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nikovraskol · 2 months ago

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crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone.

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t…– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in – oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

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eph3merall · 3 months ago

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dealer!chris n innocent!bff!reader who eventually have sex ...

☆ . . . chris is so so sweet <3 gently coaxes you into believing that it's okay. that it wont ruin your guys' friendship at all, even though he knows once he hits he'll want to come right back. he'll be damned if he lets his best friend go fuck some other guy.

☆ . . . chris ends up taking your virginity when hes high. you were slightly tipsy from a few drinks, crawling all over his lap and giggling like some puppy. he couldn't exactly help the hard-on he got, y'know? hes a man. you couldnt blame him.

☆ . . . the two of you were just talking, truthfully. after chris had finally managed to get you to loosen up a little you were so smiley and squirmy, accidentally rubbing against his cock without even realizing. tipsy giggles left your lips every second he said something, his mind feeling all fuzzy and not quite there.

☆ . . . the topic of sex came up. chris isnt sure how, or why. "you've never been fucked?" "no..? s'that a problem?." "no, no.. jus', you're missin' out." chris is chuckling and staring at you like he wants to devour you, and you completely miss it. "m'parents always told me to wait until marriage" and he nearly starts cooing at you with how adorable you sound, tugging you closer as his hands cup your cheeks.

☆ . . . fast forward and he's lazily grinding up against you with his hands planted firmly on your hips to help you roll them against his clothed dick. "ohh, i know.. feels good? huh?" the prettiest little whines are sounding from your lips that have been bitten raw, eyes glancing down to where you repeatedly hump against your best friend. "chris..." his name sounds so good in that whiny tone, said in a low mewl as you grasp at his shoulders.

☆ . . . you dont know fully why you feel like this, all hot and eager for chris to continue helping you rut against him. then again, it isn't all sunshines and rainbows for him either. chris is fighting back the urge to bust in his pants, holding you close and letting your body move slowly on its own.

☆ . . . soon enough, he's breathing heavy as his cock strains against his jeans. staring at your nervous face as you tug your panties down and he has to stop himself from grabbing you and sitting you down on his dick until his tip hits your cervix. he knows it'll hurt. and chris just happens to be so kind to his best friend, he's letting you sit down in his lap with both of your legs thrown across his.

☆ . . . your head leans back, his chin resting on top of your head as he sinks his middle finger into your cunt. "fuck, oh.. look at you. s'cute, baby" "chris.." you just sound so pathetic to him, as he hushed you gently. his other hand is wrapped around your stomach, holding you close and keeping your thrashing to a minimum.

☆ . . . your gasp turns into a moan when chris eases another finger in, the squelching sound of your own cunt echoing in your ears—making heat spread up your neck to your face. it just feels so... weird. your hips twitched gently and yoh didn't miss the chuckle that sounded from your best friends mouth, his free hand sliding up gently to squeeze at your tits.

☆ . . . when you start shifting around more and your hand grabs at chris' wrist to try and slow the sensations down, he knows you're close. a soft hush comes from him as he continues with his ministrations, ignoring the way you whine and cry about how you feel weird. "jus' let it happen. s'not a bad thing, baby.. c'mon, cum for me. theere you go" the wave of pleasure that washes over you is almost heavenly, your body tensing then going slack a few seconds after, lips parted in heavy gasps of air.

☆ . . . you think you would be done honestly, until chris is tapping the side of your hip with two of his fingers. "up, c'mon. gotta help me now" and when you shakily lift yourself up from his lap, you hear the sound of a belt buckle and fabric being slid off skin. chris' hands are looping around your stomach gently to pull you back—ordering you gently to close your eyes. "trust me, i got you. you trust me, right?"

☆ . . . of course you trust chris.. which is why your eyes fall shut—letting the brunette pull you back and sink you down slowly onto his dick. except your eyes fly open the second his tip is nudging into your entrance, a shaky gasp falling from you as your hands grip at his wrists. "chris.. that—that hurts, y'know." except he ignores you, clicking his tongue in his mouth and slowly sinking you down further. maybe he should've stretched you out a little more, but god, he was so hard to the point it hurt.

☆ . . . once chris is fully sheathed inside you, he lets you adjust for as long as you need. he knows he's big, and he knows you've never had sex. you were gulping in big gasps of air like you were dying, even though it was fine... chris' hands rub comfortingly up and down your sides, rolling his eyes at how dramatic you were. "s'kay kid.. stop doin' that," "no, i feel full..."

☆ . . . when chris was finally able to move without you throwing a fit over how much it hurt or something, he's thrusting up gently and cursing under his breath. you've turned around just so you could hide your head in his shoulder if needed, and you do—burying your head into the crook of his neck and letting his hair tickle your skin.

☆ . . . chris isn't sure how long it's been but when you squeeze around him he knows you're cumming without you having to say it, and he almost busts his own load right then and there. biting down on his lower lip, he urges you off him when he's sure your orgasm had washed over you—shoving your shoulders down to get you on your knees between his legs.

☆ . . . chris knows you aren't on birth control or anything, so he opts for a quick lesson teaching you how to bob your head up and down his length until he cums over your pretty lil' face. surprisingly, for someone who's never sucked dick before, you were damn good at it. fitting whatever you could in your mouth and then wrapping your hands around whatever else was left, just like chris had told you.

☆ . . . he isn't the best at aftercare. you guys took a shower and he seemed so awkward, because normally the girl he just banged would be out the door in a few minutes. but you're his best friend, so he just pats the bed and you two watch a movie or something. cuddling always felt too intimate for him, never been one to initiate it or entertain it.

☆ . . . you don't complain much. sure, it would've been nice. well, it would've been really nice, but you were a little too scared to ask chris to hold you like you guys were dating. were you two dating now? probably not. you've never really seen chris with the same girl for more than three days straight, and he's told you a bunch how he hates labels. huh. so why is that pit of longing still stuck in your chest?

—

ur girl wrote this with a vicious nosebleed. i lowk need to write for matt more so some stuff for him is comin soon hopefully !!! after i finish all the reqs i got tho

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx

©eph3merall 2024

#ᶻz eph3merall #ೀ dealer!chris #ೀ innocent!bff!reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo drabble #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo smut

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luveline · 5 months ago

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if it’s at all possible, i’m requesting the fluffiest, giggliest fic with poly!marauders where reader is just sad and teary so they get in a big cuddle pile and tickle her and kiss her until she’s a giggly mess and all cheered up 🥹 thank you lovely jade!! <3

ty for requesting angel! fem, 1.1k

You watch yourself in the mirror. At your vanity, a cotton pad soaked in toner in hand. You wash down your face gently, your eyes hot and heavy and waiting to fill with tears.

Maybe it’s because it’s Sirius who’s sitting on your bed that you end up crying. It’s hard to explain why it makes a difference, why he’s the one out of everyone who you can’t hide from when you’re sad. It’s not as though James or Remus are any less understanding than he is. James is the most generous person you’ve ever met, he’d let you cry into his arms for days on end without complaint, and Remus understands better than most what it is to be in pain, but Sirius won’t make you talk about it. When you’re feeling better, you’ll realise that it’s the complete lack of pressure to confront your feelings that brings them to the surface. Sirius won’t ask you to explain yourself.

The tears fall down in discordant waves. One from the left, two from the right. Your nose grows hot, an uncomfortable wetness gathering at the back of your throat.

You put your cotton pad aside, sniffling.

“You okay, my angel?” Sirius asks, turning another page of his novel.

You take a shaky breath. “Yeah,” you say, voice thick with tears.

“You don’t sound okay.” You watch in the mirror as he puts his book down. He stands up quickly, and you’re presented with how good looking he is. Even through tears, he looks pretty. “What’s wrong?”

You bend in on yourself, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “It’s nothing.”

His hand falls against your shoulder, warm, the other not far behind. He leans on your back. “Come on, sweet girl,” he whispers, “don’t cry by yourself. Come to bed with me.”

He doesn’t push you. You knew he wouldn’t.

You let him usher you into the bed, where he sits with crossed legs and you fall into his chest. Your shoulders ache with your crying, shaking as the tears turn to sobs. You think about everything too much. And, despite the best intentions, Sirius’ gentle patting and hugging makes you cry harder.

It’s a quiet house. The sound of your breakdown attracts another boy. He climbs into bed in front of you both. You know it’s Remus because James’ would’ve exclaimed in fear at the door, his hand tentative on your thigh. “Is everything alright?” he asks softly.

“She’s okay, just a rough day,” Sirius says.

It isn’t a lie. You wrap your arms around his waist like a clamp and lay there, face slipping down against his stomach, all bent and hurting as tears soak his dark t-shirt.

“Really rough, it must’ve been,” Remus says. He rubs your thigh. “It’ll be okay. We’re here.”

That makes you cry worse, too, but eventually the sentiment is driven home. No matter how bad the day is, or what happens to you, you’ll always have people to come home to who love you, and who want to rub your back for you when you can’t calm down.

Remus pats your leg in a rhythm. Sirius stays very still. They both, somehow, know what you need.

A little later, you lay with your face pressed to Sirius’ chest just shy of his armpit, Remus’ patting turned to light tickling, his voice a low constant. “You’re just so beautiful it intimidates people, that’s your problem, dovey, you’re scary because you’re that pretty. You think I’m blowing smoke, but I’m serious, and Sirius agrees with me, and James would get down on his knees right here and now and testify to that same thing.” His hand slides between the soft upper insides of your thighs to squeeze one reverently. “Everyone is jealous of you.”

“Stop it,” you mumble.

“She’s smiling,” Sirius says, drawing a loop behind your ear.

“Stop.”

“Everyone is jealous of me,” Remus furthers, “at Books and Coco, whenever you come with me, the boy behind the counter always gives me that stupid chauvinistic look like I’ve done some great service to men-kind in landing you.” Remus leans down to kiss your leg. “And it’s silly that he gives me that look, but his sentiment isn’t wrong. I can’t say I landed you, but I am lucky.”

“Stop,” you say again, laughing as his breath further tickles your leg.

The door to the bedroom clatters open. You jump, having not heard the front door, but Sirius rubs your arm and you quickly calm. After all, it’s James coming in. He’s far from scary.

“Hello,” he says, a little breathless, “you guys wouldn’t believe the photo I just took at the pond. The sun was setting and there were all these colours coming through the trees and over the water.” He gives you a funny look. “Have you been crying?”

“Just a bit,” Sirius says gently, hugging you a half inch closer, “she’s alright now.”

James frowns. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius answers for you. To some, his speaking for you might irk them, but right now it’s exactly what you need. It’s less embarrassing to have him talk for you. “Remus has praised her half to death, and he keeps tickling us both.”

“Oh, you’re tickling him too?” you ask.

Remus squints at you. “Well, just a little bit.”

You put upon a forlorn sigh. “I’m not as special as I thought.”

“Sweetheart, you are the most special,” James says, climbing into the bed, making you the centre of their flower, “you’re gorgeous. Let’s have a kiss.”

“That’s what I said,” Remus says, laughing as you lean away from James’ kiss, even as big hands find your cheeks to hold your face.

“Come on, lovely girl, just give me a kiss so I know you’re alright,” James says.

You evade to tease him. You can’t help laughing as you turn your head one way and then the other, quick to dodge him, his lips pressing half kisses against whatever bit of skin he can as you move.

“This is harassment!” you laugh.

“Just one kiss…” He holds your face steady, and he looks at you long and hard. When you move your chin up to kiss him, he moves away. “You’re okay?” he asks softly.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, kissing him quickly.

James collapses atop you, all his weight and smells. “Thank god for that.”

“Well, thank Sirius,” Remus says, “he did all the back-rubbing.”

Sirius groans and tries to get out from under you. “You’re all very heavy.”

“James? Can I see your photo?” you ask.

He squeezes you half to death in answer.

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charliemwrites · 10 months ago

Text

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Brandon the crash dummy

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fayes-fics · 2 years ago

Text

Second Son

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: The second son is, for once, the first choice...

Warnings: none really... mild angst, family dynamics, love at first sight.

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: Request fill for anon here, about Benedict being the second choice for everything.... until his love turns up. Thanks for this request; I hope this is angsty enough for you anon. Im not sure about it tbh. Sorry that it's taken more than three months to get to it on my WIP list. Unbetaed. Enjoy <3

Benedict Bridgerton was born into privilege and can have few complaints. Except perhaps that he is always second. The spare. The just-in-case option. Being a familial insurance policy lends one more freedom than the burden of being the titled first son, perhaps, but it also feels like your whole existence, in some respects, can seem like a contingency plan.

____

His stomach swoops with excitement as the arrow pierces the target dead on the bullseye. And on his first ever archery lesson, just after his twelfth birthday.

He turns around to see if anyone is there to witness his triumph, but it goes unmarked. All his young siblings gathered around Anthony, patting him on the back for his achievements in doing the same moments before. Being a good shot is an essential skill for the next Viscount indeed. The fact that he has been receiving instruction for months already and this is Benedict’s first lesson hurts a little.

But he doesn't bother to bring attention to his arguably more impressive feat. It seems pointless now. Wordlessly he shrugs and walks towards the target, plucking out his arrow and starting again. Perhaps next time, they will notice.

____

“Is that the new Viscount Bridgerton?” Benedict hears a young girl murmur as he sweeps into the first societal event of the season, the spring following his father's death.

“Oh no, my dear, sadly not; I believe that is one of the brothers,” her mother replies, acting as if he has no sense of hearing, even trying to ignore it as he is, surveying the crowd.

“Such a shame,” the young girl huffs, “he is so very handsome.”

“Yes, dear, but sadly not titled. We can do better,” her mother chides, moving them along out of earshot.

He will never get over how cutthroat the Ton can be, a part of his tender seventeen-year-old heart sinking. Not that he had a potential interest in that girl, more the principle that he will somehow be rendered as an also-ran, at best a consolation prize, for the rest of his life.

What is most galling, perhaps, is that, when his mother needs their presence the most on a night like tonight, the new VIscount is nowhere to be seen. Has not even bothered to show his face, running off to some spurious gambling den and brothel, spending the night indulging himself rather than facing society.

So here Benedict is, stepping up to play the dutiful son that his elder brother should be. Being the support their mother so desperately needs at her first event as a widow, her arm looped heavily through his, her whole bodyweight seeming to use him as her literal pillar of support. As he escorts her around the room, he is filled with admiration at her brave face. He can see the overwhelming sadness in her eyes every time the word dowager is invoked, and his heart cracks a little at the loneliness he can feel emanating from his mother’s very soul.

“Tis a shame the Viscount did not deign the first event of the season worthy of his patronage,” she states pointedly as she sips champagne.

“I am sure he has very good reasons for his absence,” Benedict replies soothingly, covering for his errant brother, attempting to shield their mother from the truth of his philandering ways. Benedict knows it is Anthony’s way of dealing with the responsibility of the title of Viscount being thrust upon him so young. But sometimes, just sometimes, Benedict wishes he could escape his grief in such a manner, Anthony taking his turn attending a stuffy ball and playing guardian to a grieving woman. Their burdens may be different, but the wish to escape them is often not, Benedict realises.

____

She catches his eye at a garden party at Aubrey Hall. She is a pretty young lady, maybe eighteen to his twenty-three, with bright eyes and a sweet, happy face. She makes his palms slightly sweaty. He watches her from a distance, uncertain how to approach or what to say, feeling a little tongue-tied, even.

Just then, Anthony materialises at his shoulder.

“Who is that pretty young thing?” Anthony asks, tracing Benedict’s line of sight.

“Miss Bradstreet,” he replies, watching as she turns to face the sun, closing her eyes, basking in its warmth. The light captures her cheekbones perfectly, and he itches to have his sketchbook and capture her likeness. He would very much like to get to know her better.

“Let's go provide a warm welcome,” Anthony smirks, clapping a hand on Benedict’s shoulder and practically dragging him across the lawn.

Benedict reluctantly follows, a flutter of excitement as her eyes land upon them as they approach.

“Miss Bradstreet,” Anthony swaggers. “Viscount Bridgerton at your service; I am so very pleased to be your host today,” he bows.

Benedict's stomach plunges as he watches her practically melt into the lawn right there, virtually swooning at Anthony’s feet.

“Oh, and this is my brother, Benedict,” Anthony adds, almost as an afterthought.

She flicks her head to the side briefly to politely acknowledge Benedict before returning to Anthony. All of her undivided adoring attention on him as he regales the story of his latest hunting triumphs upon her insistence. Benedict heaves a sigh and watches as yet another young lady he likes chooses his brother over him. He is almost used to it now, but it doesn't stop the sting every time.

____

Your world grinds to a halt as you see him. He is descending the stairs with what you assume is the rest of his family. He is very much in the middle of a tight circle, walking behind what appears to be his mother and perhaps older brother. Quite the most beautiful man you have ever seen, your heart pounding in your ears, your throat suddenly dry despite the lemonade in your hand. You assume they must be the hosts, seeing as they are the very last to enter the ballroom here at Bridgerton House, and there is no announcement of their name.

“Who is that?” you whisper, leaning towards your elder sister. She has been out among society for a year and knows the Ton better than you.

“That is the Bridgerton family, of course,” she replies. “Illustrious in the extreme. Our hosts for this evening. The Viscount there is the most eligible bachelor of every season… and every season, he has resisted a match. So I wouldn't bother if I were you,” she sniffs.

“Which is the Viscount?” you check, your eyes unable to leave the beautiful man with a cravat tied in the most unconventional fashion.

“The one with his arm looped with their mother, the dowager Viscountess, naturally,” your sister rolls her eyes as if patently obvious.

“And what of the others?” you inquire keenly, realising the man you admire cannot be the one your sister is referring to. “Do you know their names?”

“I do not,” she admits, “such things are not really important when one is looking for a titled husband,” she points out airily.

You nod, knowing the responsibility your sister must carry as firstborn to find a suitable match that can provide for your widowed mother and, indeed, perhaps yourself and your younger sister should neither of you be able to find a husband. You don’t envy her position one little bit.

You are, however, desperate to get closer to the most beautiful man you have ever seen. And so you spend your evening working towards them, in as polite of a fashion as you can, your stomach in knots of excitement to know him.

“Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you,” you curtsy, heart pounding as he now stands a few feet away, unable to look at him so close by.

“Hello, my dear and you are?” she asks politely.

“Miss y/n y/l/n, it is my very first season; I am so honoured to be here,” you explain. “I must provide the apologies of my mother, Mrs y/l/n, who could not attend tonight due to a cold, but she is so very thankful for the invitation.”

“Oh, of course,” the viscountess smiles. “I am so sorry to hear of her illness; please pass on my best regards… Anthony!” she turns to her side to grab the attention of a man. The viscount’s head whips around from where he is in discussion with another. “Come meet Miss y/l/n,” she needles pointedly. “Miss y/l/n, this is the Viscount Anthony Brdgerton, and he is so pleased not only to make your acquaintance but also for your presence here tonight,” she welcomes on his behalf, and you do not miss the subtle nudge in the ribs she gives him.

Then his regard is drawn to you. He is handsome certainly, and you appreciate his polite but absent-minded greeting. His attentions are obviously elsewhere, but then you cannot fault him as yours are the same. Your gaze strays over his shoulder to the man who first captures your attention. And your breath is stolen by how his hazy blue eyes stare intently at you.

____

Benedict is twenty-six years old when he is struck by lightning. Not literally. But that is the sensation that runs through his body when he first lays eyes on you—politely introducing yourself to his mother and thanking her for your invitation to this ball.

He thought he knew what attraction was until this point. He thought he knew the depths to which one could fall in love in an instant. He was an utter fool. He looks at you, and at once, everything is so quiet and loud all at once. He is desperate to know you in a way he has never felt. To grab your hand, take you somewhere, and ask you a million questions to get to know your soul. He also wants to kiss you so much that his lips tingle. And inside, his lungs want to scream as his mother does the natural thing and introduces the beautiful, polite young lady to her most eligible son… Anthony.

Then his heart jolts as your eyes stray from Anthony and meets his, your pupils dilating in a way that makes his lungs too small to inhale air. It is the first and only time a young woman has had Anthony’s full attention and has looked away from it. And to him, no less. The tidal flood of chemicals in his system makes it feel like he is vibrating in his very shoes.

____

You try your best to be polite and look at Anthony as he speaks, but your sight is drawn to this other man like a moth to a flame. From appearance, the second son, as you are the second daughter. A flare of understanding and sympathy in your chest as to how that is. You want to grab his hand and run away with him.

“My lord,” you find your voice and snap your eyes back to the Viscount, “would you do me the honour of introducing me to the rest of your wonderful family?” your ask, almost timid.

He looks temporarily taken aback, as if mystified why anyone in the Ton would care about the status of anyone beyond his mother and himself. You smile at him expectantly and do not miss, from the corner of your eye, how the beautiful man’s face is awash with surprise at your request.

“Oh, most certainly,” Anthony seems to snap out of his temporary stupor and turns to introduce his siblings in attendance. A tall, baby-faced young man stands to attention as Anthony moves from left to right. “This is Colin; he has just returned from his travels in Greece,” you nod and smile politely, knowing nothing of the subject. “And this is my sister, Eloise; it is her first season, and she is not in the slightest bit happy about that,” he adds dryly, and you can't help but giggle and feel a kinship with the spirited young lady who returns your wry smile. “My eldest sister, the Duchess of Hastings, who is visiting us,”

You curtsy and bow your head. “It is an honour, your Grace,” you add, and she smiles sweetly at you, her arm looped in her mother's.

“Obviously, you have met my mother,” he continues, and suddenly he is the last in the line. You feel your palms clench, sweaty in anticipation of learning his name “... and this is my brother, Benedict; he hopes to be an artist.”

You are finally brave enough to meet his eyes again. He is so achingly beautiful that the rest of his family, indeed the whole ballroom, melt away from your view—he is all you can see.

“Oh, I adore art,” you stutter, mesmerised, offering your hand to him, the first and only person in the family you do so to. Unseen by you, your gaze only on one man, Anthony’s mouth drops open in surprise.

Nothing can prepare you for when Benedict’s gloved hand gently touches yours, him bowing to kiss the back of your hand. You catch a woody citrus scent that makes your mouth water as he does so. And then you feel the warmth of his lips through your glove, and you are utterly undone.

“Miss y/l/n,” he rumbles quietly, the sound making your insides melt even more; it's deep and resonant and makes every inch of your body tingle.

“Please call me y/n,” you murmur, moving closer, knowing how scandalous that might be, but seemingly unable to stop yourself. He has a hypnotic hold over you that you don't want to fight.

“Only if you shall call me Benedict,” he breathes, and it takes Anthony clearing his throat to make you spring apart, suddenly remembering where you are.

____

His lips touch the silk of your glove, and he is gone.

Already planning a future, his mind supplying images of you at his cottage out in the country, the lady of the house. Tending to the herb garden, reading happily curled up in front of the fire in the drawing room, fearlessly plucking a bow as you stand in front of joint archery targets gently teasing him for losing to a girl, and finally, the image that truly knocks the wind out of him, you naked under him, desperately moaning his name as you move together, entwined in ecstasy.

He hears your sharp inhale, and his heart skips at the idea you feel it too. That you are the first woman ever that sees him and not Anthony. Really sees him. Not as the second son. Not as a consolation prize.

And when your body seems to sway towards him, he is already mentally asking his mother for a betrothal ring from her grandmother, which she said she is keeping just for him.

____

“Benedict,” his name feels wonderful in your mouth, like a gift from the heavens. “Please, may we take a turn around the gardens?” you implore, the boldest you have ever been in your whole life.

“It would be my very greatest pleasure,” he responds.

And you know with absolute certainty you have met your husband, the father of your children, your very future.

____

“It is not as if this is my show….” he sighs.

“You should not do that, darling,” you say affectionately, ruffling his hair as you move to fix his cravat; it definitely needs to be more jaunty, in your opinion.

“Do what?” he breathes, his wedding ring catching the light as he places his hands gently over yours and stills your motions.

“Think of yourself as second,” you argue, running your hand over his cheek. “This gallery opening may feature others' work too, but you are the star of the exhibit,” you reassure, tilting his forehead down so it rests upon yours.

There it is again. That look that always floors you. Even now, a year later. Like you are the most wondrous creature, and he can scarcely believe you are his.

“Never forget, you will always be first to me,” you utter fiercely, watching his eyes soften with devotion. “And not just me….” you guide his sizeable warm hand onto the swell of your belly, “to us. We love you so much, Benedict,” your tone is ardent, wanting him to believe he deserves this recognition, that he should believe in himself the way that you do.

“I love you, too,” he responds quietly, reverentially. “So very much. Both of you are my whole world,” his voice choked with emotion, and you throw your arms around him and squeeze hard, wanting to telegraph just how much he is the very centre of your universe.

An hour later, you clutch your hands over your chest as you watch him being brought onto the raised stage and introduced to the crowd as they applaud him and his work rapturously, awaiting to hear him talk of his art. As he does so, you stroke your belly unseen under your cloak, beaming with pride for your wonderful husband.

____

He sees your face in the crowd, and as ever, it calms him, especially at this landmark moment. So as he finishes the speech that he has rehearsed for days now, he decides to do something perhaps unconventional but something he seems unable to resist.

“Lastly, before I allow you back to your champagne,” he jests, finally at ease with the attention and recognition. “I want to thank my life’s inspiration, the very reason I stand before you today. My wonderful wife. Thank you, my love, for being the light of my life; for always making this second son your first choice. You will always, always be my first choice. I love you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

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burts-baked-bees · 6 months ago

Text

One of a Kind

D&WGambit! x X-Men97!Fem! Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst, X-Men 97' Spoilers, Pining, happy ending, two idiots, hurt/comfort, mention of character death

WC: 1686

“Have you been watching the news?” Scotts voice came as Y/n entered the mansion. The mutant looked up at the team leader with a look of confusion as she placed her bag down on the counter.

“No? Why?” Her brow furrowed as Scott swallowed hard. He moved quietly to the small TV on the kitchen counter and flipped it on; Y/n watched in horror as images of the aftermath of a full scale attack on Genosha flashed on the screen. She felt a chill run through her body as flames danced in her vision and ashes coated what was once a proud and new country. She gripped the counter as Scott watched the unfolding news with her.

“We have people there.” Y/n croaked as she kept her gaze locked on the screen. “Scott. Rogue, Kurt and Magneto are there.” Her eyes moved to her leader as his emotionless sunglasses reflected her distressed expression back at her. “Scott.” She said sternly. “Remy is there.”

Scotts brows furrowed as he opened and closed his mouth, like he was trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. Y/n Felt her stomach drop as the horrors of the news broadcast played in her ears.

“Are they okay?” She asked, her voice breaking as she gripped the side of the counter. The same counter that Remy taught her to make jambalaya at. The same counter she had sat on and shared a late night bowl of cereal with him just a few nights before. “Scott.” She practically snarled. He took a step forward, his arm reaching out, almost like he was looking for comfort as well, like he was trying to tell her he had lost something too.

Lost something.

“Scott. Is Remy okay?”

…

“Eva’ since you wandered up in ‘ere, you been lookin’ at ole’Gambit like you seen a ghost sha.”

Y/n was ripped from her thoughts as she glanced at the man next to her. She was suddenly reminded she was in the Void and not the kitchen of the Xavier Mansion grieving loss all over again.

“What?” She asked horsley as she looked up at the tall man on her left. He gave her a small smile.

“Sha, you been up in ‘ere a few weeks now, yeah? When you gon tell Gambit why you lookin at him like dat? Hmm?” The Cajun sat down across from her his gaze intense as he perched his elbows on his knees. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, she kept her gaze on the floor, on his boots. His voice felt like a million knives in her chest as she fiddled with the frayed ends of her shirt sleeves. It wasn’t him; not her version of him anyways. He sounded like Remy, moved like Remy, laughed like Remy… His eyes were different though, clear green instead of a red iris surrounded by black.His hair was slightly different too, not red but a natural brown. He gave her a pointed look, as if to say he wasn’t leaving till she answered him. Y/n sighed.

“Don’t know what you mean…” She spoke softly rubbing her face; Gambit chuckled.

“You don know? Or you jus’ don wanna’ say, sha?” He sat back slightly, fidgeting with his deck of cards like he always did. Shuffling in an endless loop just to keep his hands busy. She watched his hands intently, bile rising in her throat as she watched the dance of the cards, feeling that same emptiness she had when Kurt gave his homily at the funeral….

“Been tree’ weeks since you popped into da void, been known you was an X-Men from da way you fight. We had a lot of X-Men up in ere’, but not like you.” He sighed, hands still moving and shuffling, but his eyes never left her face. Y/n sighed again, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

“So? Why do you care?” She asked, finally looking up to meet his gaze. He gave her a small smile, almost proud of her for finally looking at him head on. She felt sick again.

“Gambit cares. He always does, sha. ‘Specially when one of his own kind gets dumped in dis hellscape.” His words were soft, like he was speaking to a cornered animal. Her Remy never talked to her like that. He was always obnoxious and snarky, pushing her buttons and trying to get a rise out of her. She scowled before leaning back.

“I've got my own reasons to be apprehensive. Everything here, everyone, it's all very new… Very… real…” Her eyes drifted away again as Gambit nodded in an understanding way.

“No one here knew da Gambit when dey first seen him. But you? Toi mon amie, you took one look at da Gambit et, mon dieu thought you was gonna combust on da spot. You looked at me like you known me. But da thing is, sha. Gambit don’t know you.”

Her eyes glossed over at that statement; he didn’t know her. He was intrigued by her, but he didn’t know her. She scoffed,

“Guess I don't exist outside of my timeline. Everyone seems to have variants except me.” She spoke with a shake of her head. She had seen countless Deadpool’s in the void since she got here, a few other versions of her teammates and even some Avengers, but she had never seen another Y/n. She was the only one, and now she had been put here.

The last thing she remembered was Charles and Magnus asking her and her teammates to pick a side. The answer was clear for most of them, Rogue went with Magneto and so did Sunspot. The rest stayed loyal to a cause that didn’t seem to have a point anymore. She had fled the choice, unsure how she was supposed to pick a side when the only person she had fought for was dead. Humans had killed him. And she hadn’t even been there to tell him she loved him… to tell her best friend that after all this time, she had loved him more than she had ever loved anyone in her life.

That’s when the TVA showed up, spouting something about how she was a danger to her timeline and needed to be removed to ensure the survival of the true X-Men. She had been thrown in, against her will, to a hellish landscape that was fitting of a reject like herself. She had fought tooth and nail against bandits in the wastelands before she came across a face that she hadn’t expected to ever see again.

“I lost you ‘dere, sha. Where you gon off too now?” Gambit’s voice cut through her memories like Logan’s claws as she snapped her eyes back up to him. He gave her a warm smile before shuffling his deck again. She watched his hands again and he chuckled. “People are like cards, sha. Different suits, but all made of da same material. I like to tink’ of myself as a jack of all trades-” He flipped the jacks of the deck out to face her before shuffling them back in. “You doe? You give da Gambit a very specific type’o vibe.”

Y/n watched as he shuffled a bit more before the queen of hearts flipped from the deck. Her blood ran cold. That wasn’t her card. That was Rogues. It had always been Rogues. Never her. Gambit's smug smile fell as she stood up abruptly, her eyes flashing with a twinge of panic. He stood up with her hands out in a show of surrender as he chuckled airly.

“Gambit done take things too far. I apologize, meant no ‘arm in it. Je suis désolé mon amie.”

She shook her head before reaching forward and taking the deck from his hand. He protested but watched her as she pulled the Joker card from the deck and pressed it back in his hand, atop the Queen of Hearts.

“This card. You always said this was me.” She pressed the glossy paper to his palm, staring at the jester printed in black and white. “You would pull this card and laugh at the resemblance, saying I was a damn couyon.” She frowned as tears pricked her eyes. “That Queen was reserved for far better than me. Never for me. Don’t you dare.” Her voice sounded labored as she locked eyes with him; his green eyes flashed with sympathy and hurt as he slowly closed his hand around hers. She didn’t pull away, instead she felt her breath hitch as a wave of burning hot emotions flooded her chest and mind.

“Comment une personne si belle peut-elle être si triste?” He spoke softly. “You did know me den? Where you come from?”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat before nodding.

“I did. But I lost you.” She choked out.

He squeezed her hand softly.

“And me and you? Was we…?” He asked softly, eyes searching hers. “Dis Gambit only ever known da Void. Pretty sure I was born here, neva known another way.”

“He was my best friend. My whole world.” She choked out with a sad smile. “But I was his couyon, never his queen.” She laughed, remembering the way he used to throw that word around with a charming smile running away from her playful wrath everytime. This Gambit gave her a sad smile.

“He must have been blind ta not see da gift he had.” He spoke softly. Y/n shook her head.

“If you knew Rogue, you wouldn't say that. A Queen of hearts through and through. I could never blame him for picking her.” With that she dropped his hand, the lingering warmth fading from her skin.

“Dis Gambit wants to know you more, sha. Dis Gambit don't wanna’ leave you lone.” His words were followed by him placing a card in her palm.

Y/n smiled softly before looking at the card he had handed her. “You aint no couyon-” He chuckled.

Ace of Hearts.

“You one of a kind.”

#marvel #gambit #remy lebeau #gambit imagine #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau imagine #deadpool and wolverine #mcu imagine #mcu #xmen #xmen 97 #channing tatum

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munsonsmixtapes · 4 months ago

Text

Billy Still Doesn't Know

virgin!eddie x experienced!reader

summary: you and Eddie make up after that disasterous night and very quickly become friends with benefits. But problems arise when you starts to have feelings for the metal head. Billy quickly gets winds of your arrangement and decides to call the both of you out at Nancy's party.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) oral (m receiving) sub!eddie, dom!reader, exhibitionism, anal, public sex, Billy just generally being a dick and abusive, but that's not new, use of nicknames (baby, good boy, honeybee) hurt/comfort, mild violence, mention of an abortion, mention of reader's rough home life (verbal abuse)

100% inspired by the song “Scotty Doesn’t Know” by Lustra!

part one

You stare at the ceiling as you try to fall asleep, the events of the night running through your head on a continuous loop. Guilt is causing a pit in your stomach to form, bile rising in your throat as the look on Eddie’s face stays in your mind, making you feel even worse. It wasn’t his fault. He was trying to do what he had thought you had liked and you freaked out. You panicked.

No one had ever bothered to care about things like that when it came to you so when someone finally did, it felt weird. Foreign. Eddie wasn't the problem, that much you were sure of. It was all you. Letting Billy into your life had created so many problems for you, especially mentally so it made hanging out with anyone normal difficult.

You hadn't actually wanted to leave, but it was a trauma response, something you always did with Billy so it was just second nature when anything went wrong. And unlike Billy, Eddie just let you go. Why, though? Why didn't he chase after you? Why didn't he demand you to stay like Billy would have?

Because Eddie wasn't Billy. Not in the slightest. He let you go because he felt like he was the right thing to do and didn't want to cross your boundaries. You thought a part of you knew that but you still wished he had asked you to stay.

You wanted him to get on his knees, holding your hands in his as he pleaded, begging for you to stay the night. And he would have invited you into his room where the two of you would have cuddled in his bed for the rest of the night.

Now you were starting to feel like a bitch for how things had ended. Because what had Eddie done except be an absolute gentleman? And now you had hurt him so badly that he hadn't even called you before bed like he always did.

Your seat in the pre-calculus class that you share with Eddie is empty when he walks into first period. He’s internally panicking, but he plays it off as he sits in his assigned seat behind yours, pulling out the things he needs for the class, feeling his heart sink as he realizes that the events of the night before were so bad that he had made you not want to come to school.

And he feels horrible, that feeling in his gut gnawing, eating at him, the clenching feeling getting even tighter, almost as if a boa constrictor had been wrapping around his midsection. He swears he’s going to throw up, putting his hand over his mouth to try to hold it back, but then you walk into the room, looking a little worse for wear with your head down as you hurry to your seat before Ms. O'donnell started the class.

Eddie wasn’t paying attention to her, though, and neither were you. And you were clearly out of it because you hadn’t even noticed that he was staring at you, leaning over ever so slightly to the right so he could see your face.

“I’m sorry Mr. Munson,” he hears Ms. O’Donnell’s voice, and immediately turns in her direction, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s about to fall out of his chair. “Is my lesson boring you? Because clearly you seem to be very interested in Miss l/n.”

“No ma’am,” he shakes his head vigorously and doesn’t miss the way you slide down in your chair, pulling the hood of your hoodie up over your head in embarrassment. “Please, continue.”

Miss O’Donnell continues the lesson and neither you nor Eddie are paying her any attention. You both are in your own little worlds, still thinking about the night before. And if you’re being honest, you kind of hate how he’s acting like his usual self this morning.

You were half expecting him to apologize even though you know you don’t deserve it. What does he have to apologize for anyway? Being a total sweetheart? If anyone should be apologizing, it’s you. And there’s no way you’re going to do that because vulnerability terrifies you.

And you absolutely hate confrontation, hating having to put your feelings out there when you have a problem. You can still see your father yelling at you when you politely asked him to turn the TV volume down so you could sleep. You know that’s the reason why you are the way that you are. And hanging around Billy only made it worse, the similarities between the two men not lost on you.

And you know Eddie well enough to know that all he wants to do is put it all in the past. That’s what he’s done with the few spats that you’ve had and know that this isn’t any different. But he’s waiting for you to make the first move like he always does, because that’s just who he is. Eddie respects your boundaries and never wants to push, so that’s why this is getting to you.

Well, that and you’re so used to Billy being the one to blame that you want to pass it off to Eddie to make yourself feel better. Because if you don’t accept the blame then it’s not your fault and then you don’t have to carry your guilt around because let’s be honest, you have more than enough of that already.

But what you don’t know is that Eddie fully believes that he’s to blame, that he had pushed you too far. That you have every right to be mad at him for what he’s done. He just wants to apologize and for the two of you to be friends again, but he’s afraid that this isn’t something he can make up for with a song.

So he spends the entirety of first period trying to wrack his brain for some way to make it up to you even though he doesn’t think any of it will be good enough. And just when he thinks he has something, the bell rings and you rush out of class, moving too fast for him to even catch up.

He gets out the door and you’re already halfway down the hallway, hurrying to your next class that’s on the other side of the school. He won’t have time to catch up with you and go to his own class, so he decides he’ll just talk to you at lunch.

But you don’t sit with him. In fact, you’re not even in the cafeteria. He knows because he’s checking every five minutes, his eyes darting between all the doors and the lunch line, just to make sure he hasn’t missed you. He knows how crazy he looks, but everyone already thinks he is so that doesn’t bother him. All he cares about is finding you and telling you how sorry he is about last night.

You’re not in the cafeteria because you’re in the newsroom with Robin and Nancy. You owe it to yourself to have a little girl time and forget about all the boy drama that’s been surrounding you for quite some time. You’ve only recently gotten close to them and appreciated that they let you into their group no question.

They had been nothing but nice to you despite your reputation as a “mean girl” as that hadn’t been who you really were. It was just a facade that you had put on to push people out, and clearly it hadn’t worked as well as you had hoped.

They’d been for you when you complained about Billy and now they were trying to help you out with your situation with Eddie. They know how important he is to you and the both of you have become such important parts of the friend group and they hate to see either of you so upset, especially when it comes to being upset in regards to each other.

You didn’t give them all the details of what happened because you felt like it was giving too much information, but you definitely alluded to what had happened and how you had left and how horrible you felt about hurting Eddie and that you were afraid that he was mad at you.

“You know that Eddie is way too easy going to be mad at you,” Nancy told you as she rested her hand on top of yours. “And neither of you did anything wrong anyway. It’s all just a big misunderstanding. I’m sure if you talk to him about it and explain where you’re coming from, this whole mess will be fixed.”

You can always count on Nancy to give you good advice. You know she’s right, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to listen. You’re just going to thank her and then continue to avoid Eddie like the plague for the rest of the school year until the both of you graduate. It’s what’s for the best, you think, deciding that it just wasn’t meant to be.

“I don’t know why you bother, Nanc,” Robin rolls her eyes. “We all know she’s not going to listen to you and continue to ignore Eddie, running back to Billy as if last night never happened.”

You’ve always hated how well Robin can read you. Because she’s exactly right. Well, except for going back to Billy. You’ve been done with him for a while and now you’re finally going to rip off the band aid after school.

“No,” you deny. “I’m going to break things off with him after school.”

“What about Eddie?” God, you’re tired of talking about him. You were only doing so because they had brought him up. You just wanted to forget about him even though it was impossible for you to do so. The metal head had taken up your thoughts every single second of every day since you had started hanging out. So much so that you had even started imagining his face when Billy was fucking you, always so close to moaning his name. And now you’ve pushed him away.

“What about Eddie, Nancy? He doesn’t want to talk to me.” You’re shrinking into yourself and you know that you sound like a broken record, but you can’t help it.

“Alright,” Robin sighs, scooting her chair close to yours, looking you dead in the eyes, her own forming into a glare. “Since no one’s going to be honest with you, I will.”

“Go ahead,” you tell her, trying to show that you can handle it, but deep down, you’re terrified that she’s going to say something way out of pocket. That you’re going to have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and cry afterwards.

“You left last night because people always leave you so you wanted a head start. You know Eddie won’t do that and that’s why you’re scared. Because he’s seen all your flaws and still wants to hang out with you. You’re not used to that.”

She’s right and your eyes widen as she speaks, realizing how well she had hit the nail on the head. You scoot out of your seat and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you just as the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

Anger courses through you as you stomp to your locker at the end of the day. You’re supposed to catch a ride home with Nancy and Robin since Eddie’s usually your ride, but you decide to just take the bus since you don’t have your other options.

Well, you could if you stopped being so stubborn and actually talked about your feelings, but you can’t so you won’t. You want to be alone anyway, to drown your sorrows in a gallon of ice cream while you finally let yourself cry about everything.

You get to your locker as the doors at the end of the school burst open. You turn to see who it is and immediately bury your face into your locker, the door hiding your face as you do so. Go, could this day get any worse?

You hear Billy before you see him, his boots stomping down the hallway, getting closer and closer to you and you want nothing more than for the floor to swallow you whole. You know why he’s there and you really want to put off speaking to him. You’ve had far too much drama for the day and just want to go home.

“Baby,” he says with a smile and the nickname makes your skin crawl. You continue to grab your things from your locker and stuff them into your backpack as if he’s not there. And that pisses Billy off. He hates when you act like he doesn’t matter, especially when he’s been so generous as to give you his cock almost every night. You looking at him is the least he deserves.

“You didn’t call me after last night.” He moves around the door to stand behind you, his cock rubbing against your ass. That would normally work on you, but not today, not anymore. You’re done with him and need to finally tell him the truth. You can’t keep going back to him. He’s not good for you, but you’ve gotten addicted to the way he makes you feel. And once the high wears off, you’re left feeling gross and used and you don’t want to feel like that anymore.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Billy,” you respond and his hand slams against the locker, causing it to close, the rate at which it slams closed causing a breeze to move across your face. You pull your hand away in the knick of time and before you can get away, Billy grabs onto your face, squeezing your cheeks in his hand.

“You look at me when I’m talking to you, bitch,” he commands and you wince at the pain that he’s causing. You really wish that more people were around to witness what was happening, but the halls are empty since it’s the end of the day.

“Billy,” you say firmly, trying to get out of his grasp, but he just squeezes harder, that fire from yesterday filling his eyes again. “Let go.”

“No,” he spits. “You’re going to listen.” He steps closer so his face is only inches from yours and you’re more annoyed with him than anything. He doesn’t scare you anymore and you’re going to stand up to him for once and for all.

“No,” you finally push him off you.-

Eddie hurries down the hallway to the room where he hosts Hellfire, knowing that he’s last, but he’s relieved when no one’s waiting outside the door. Miss O’Donnell had found him after the bell had rung and reminded him that he was to report to her class after school the next day for tutoring. He’s so close to getting a passing grade, all he needs is to pass the test on Friday and he’s golden.

He’s smiling to himself about the whole thing when he turns to see that you’re talking to Billy. The knife twists and now he’s sick to his stomach as he watches the whole thing. It looks like you’re arguing. And he’s invested as soon as he sees you throw a key onto the floor and it lands right at Billy’s feet. Billy picks it up and if looks could kill, you’d be dead.

He can’t hear your conversation, but he just knows it’s ugly by the body language. He wants to help, take a punch for you to show you how much he cares for you, but he won’t. He doesn’t have the chance to because Dustin, Mike, and Lucas are standing behind him, waiting to be let inside.

“What is this?” Billy asks He knows what it is, but he wants you to say it. He wants to hear the words come from your mouth, because as soon as you say them, he’s not going to hook up with you anymore. The door will be closed and he’s gonna move another girl up to the list to take your coveted spot as his number three.

“You know what it is,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest. His blood is boiling now as he realizes what it means. This is so embarrassing to him. He’s always the one who cuts ties, not the other way around. He thought that you loved. That’s why he kept you around. You were just someone to boost his ego and do whatever he asked because you worshiped the ground he walked on.

He’s never loved you, he’s never loved anyone and he’s always made sure to remind you of that when you’ve done something nice for him, like doing the dishes when you knew it was his night to do so and he had forgotten, so focused on taking you to bed.

He owes you nothing and supposes that you owe him nothing in return, because deep down, this whole thing is strictly transactional. He knows that you can go fuck any guy he wants, but he’s nothing but a jealous man to his core so he’ll make sure he’s the only one who’s gotten inside you then turn right around and fuck some other girl within the same hour of having fucked you.

Billy pockets the key then steps forward again, his eyes narrowing into slits as he looks you up and down one last time. He doesn’t like the look on your face. He would have thought you’d be crying, begging him to take you back, but you just look unbothered, almost relieved.

“This is your last chance, bitch,” he says, pointing his finger in your face and you just stare at him with a nod. He then pushes past you, storming towards the door in a fit of rage, the door slamming behind him as he flees the school, heading to his car to figure who he’s going to replace you.

You’re crying now and Eddie’s watching, completely distracted by what’s going on, everything he was thinking about entirely abandoned in his brain to make space for you just like always. You stand there as sobs rake through you and he wants nothing more than to take you into his arms while he strokes your hair and tells you that everything is going to be okay.

“Eddie?” Dustin waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face, but he’s still dazed. He’s so focused on you that nothing else matters. Not even Hellfire, and the boys know just how important that is to him.

To the boys’ surprise, he just utters the words “Hellfire’s canceled today,” and before they can even process what he’s said, he’s taking off down the hallway to catch up with you as you’re heading to the doors. But he’s able to stop you before you get there, skidding to a stop in front of you.

Your sniffling stops as you look up at him, wiping away your tears as you take him in, his wide brown eyes and his mouth that’s slightly agape as he wracks his brain for something to say. He was so focused on preventing you from leaving that he wasn’t thinking about what he had to say.

You both stare at each other, waiting to see who makes the first move, both of you nervous as shit to be the first one to speak, so you say nothing, the halls eerily quiet without all the chatter of students or lockers and doors closing. It’s just the two of you and the rising tension sitting there between you, begging to be acknowledged.

You wouldn’t even know what to say. Your tongue is tied and the only thing you want to say you just can’t get yourself to. And to your surprise, Eddie is just as quiet. Just great, you’ve somehow managed to render the boy who never shuts the fuck up speechless.

He can tell that you’re thinking as he can practically see the gears turning. You’re always so in your head and he hates that for you. That you always overthink everything to the point where it all takes over your thoughts. He knows you’ve been thinking about what happened last night since it happened and he wants to get you out of your head. To make you understand that it’s not your fault. You had every right to act the way you did. He couldn’t be mad at you if he tried and he knows you know that so he has no idea why you’ve been avoiding like the goddamn plague.

The words are on the tip of his tongue and you can see it. His mouth opens to speak, but for some reason, you don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to tell him that the whole thing is in the past and you can move on like it didn’t happen.

But when Eddie bites the bullet to speak, you just shake your head and hurry past him, but he catches your wrist before you can leave, pulling you to him as his hand rests on the small of your back. His hand reaches up to push some hair away from your face and then it cups your cheek, forcing you to look into his warm bambi eyes.

“Stay,” he whispers and all you can do is nod as your lips part. He licks his own and an “I’m sorry” tumbles from his lips. They’re said with purpose, emphasis on each word to show you how much he means them.

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry Eddie. I fucked up and I-”

“Shh, honeybee,” he murmurs as his lips press to your forehead. “Just let me hold you, okay?”

All you can do is bury your face into his neck, tears streaming down your cheek once again. His hands move up and down your back in a comforting manner as he whispers nothing but soothing words in your ear, wanting to make sure that you know that happened last night is all in the past. He just wants to be there for you right now.

You pull back to look at him and his features are nothing but soft, a small smile kicking up at the corner of his mouth as he wipes away your tears before pulling you in for another hug, squeezing you tight, deciding that he’d hold you in his arms for the rest of his life it was possible so you’d never get hurt again.

“He’s such a fucking dick,” he mutters, his hands still rubbing lazy circles along your back. “God, I should have punched him when I had the chance.”

“Why would you do that?” You ask, your voice small. No one has ever done anything like that for you so you’re wondering why it’s Eddie who wants to be the one to defend your honor.

“Because I care about you,” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb moving back and forth along it gently.

“You do?”

“Of course I do, honey.” He’s laughing now, but not at you. It’s in disbelief because he can’t truly can’t believe that you don’t know that he’d take a bullet for you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and just the mere thought of possibly losing you last night made him sick to his stomach. He needs you to know how he feels right now so that you’ll stay. That you’ll know that he values what the two of you have, his friendship with you meaning more to him than you’d ever know.

The nickname warms your heart and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you don’t fully realize what you’re doing until your lips are on his. Eddie gasps into your mouth but eventually melts into, his lips capturing yours and he’s somehow become a natural overnight, kissing you like he had been doing it all his life.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble over and over against his lips and he just shushes you, his lips slotting between yours again, his arms tightening around your waist to pull you even closer as yours wrap around his neck. He’s smiling against your lips because he really can’t believe he’s kissing you, let alone in the empty school hallway because most of the girls would laugh or even want to throw up at the mere thought of kissing him. But you’re not most girls, he supposes.

The kiss progressively gets more heated as his tongue flicks into your mouth as your fingers find their way into his hair and then suddenly, you’re in the boys bathroom, backing yourselves into a stall. As soon as you lock the door, Eddie presses you against it and you love the way he’s taking charge, this newfound confidence he has. But you don’t want him to feel like he has to do this just to make up for last night.

You push him away and quickly speak to quiet all of the fears you can see swirling around in his head just by the look on his face. Your hands are on his face so he has no choice but to look at you and for a second, you swear he’s going to cry.

“Let’s slow down, baby. Nice and slow, okay?” You ask and he nods. “Nope, none of that,” you shake your head. I’m not mad at you. I never was. It was all just some miscommunication.”

“Miscommunication?” He supposes that is the right word for the situation

“You think I’m mad at you and I think you’re mad at me, but that’s not the case. Let’s get something clear right now, alright?” You ask and he nods again. “I had a great time last night. Genuinely, and I’m not saying this just to make you feel better, alright? You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

His eyes widen at your confession as he wasn’t expecting it in the slightest. No fucking way. You have to be pulling his leg. But you wouldn’t lie to him, right? Especially not about that kind of thing. Holy shit, he’s really better than Billy? That man has slept with pretty much every woman in Hawkins and somehow Eddie has been the best you’ve ever had? If he was anything like Billy, he’d be rubbing it in his face.

“Wow,” Eddie nods, that dopey grin making its way upon his face and you want more than to pinch his cheeks because of how adorable he looks.

“It’s feeding your ego, isn’t it, baby?” You ask and his cheeks flush. In response, he just kisses you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth again as his hands slide up your shirt. You test the waters by wrapping your lips around it and giving it a rough suck and you feel your panties getting soaked as a whine escapes the back of his throat. God, what you would give to suck him off.

You can feel his cock getting hard against your crotch and quickly pull away, bringing your bottom lip between your lips as your gaze slowly moves down to where his dick is tenting in his pants.

“I can take care of that if you’d like,” you smile, putting on a flirtatious tone and Eddie nods enthusiastically.

“God, please,” he whines. You unzip his pants and pull them along with his underwear down to his ankles before getting on your knees. You look him in the eyes to make sure he’s okay and he nods enthusiastically.

You then take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue around the head, hollowing your cheeks as you give him a rough suck. Eddie’s hands press against the side of the stall as he lets out a loud moan.

Your hand wraps around the base as your other one grabs onto this thigh, holding him in place. His head leans back as his eyes shut tight, feeling pleasure that not even how penchant can give him.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he hisses as you take more of him into your mouth, letting your tongue moved up and down the shaft as you try to as much of him as you can.

He’s already close, you can feel it.

“Jesus Christ,” he whines as his knees start to buckle. You’re holding onto both of his legs now as you try to keep him steady. He hasn’t got that far to go as he needs his release.

He’s practically screaming as he reaches his orgasm, cum leaking into your mouth as someone bursts through the bathroom door. You can hear chatter coming from outside the stall, but you continue as Eddie freezes, putting his hand over his mouth to muffle yet another moan.

It’s Jason and his buddies, you can tell by their voices as you’ve hung out with them more times than you can count because they all seem to want to get into Billy’s weird little club.

“Well, look what we’ve got here, boys,” Jason laughs. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a blowie in action.” And in response to that, the rest of them start a commotion, banging on the door and jiggling the lock back and forth as they taunt you.

“C’mon out,” Andy laughs as he rattles the door and as the rest of them are taunting, Jason stands on the toilet in the stall next to yours to get a look at who’s behaving badly and he lets out a gasp as he takes in Eddie’s flushed cheeks.

You turn to Jason and glare and he lets out a laugh as the jokes just seem to write themselves. Eddie “the freak” Munson and Billy’s girl? Oh, it all was just too good.

You swallow and stand to your knees, still making eye contact with Jason as you get off your knees, pushing yourself against Eddie as he gets himself dressed, his cheeks fully bright red.

“Why don’t you take a picture, Carver?” You ask as you exit the stall and Eddie follows behind you once he’s dressed. “It’ll last longer.”

He just glares and goes to get off the toilet, but his foot slips and lands in the bowl, a string of curse words falling from his lips. You, Eddie, and the others hurry to see what’s happened and you can’t help but laugh at the sight before you.

“Well, isn’t karma just a bitch?” You shake your head. “I bet the rest of the team would love to hear about how you and your buddies are into voyeurism,” you wink as Jason pulls his foot out of the toilet, his shoe squelching as he hurries to grab some paper towels.

You follow and stand right next to him, not afraid to get in his face. Eddie is right up against you, using your as a shield and you don’t mind one bit. You love to protect him and love that he feels safe with you.

“And you’ll think of this when you want to tell Billy. And besides,” you shrug before moving over to the mirror, pulling a tube of lipstick from your backpack before applying the color to your lips then blot it out with your finger. “We wouldn’t want Chrissy to know about the Polaroids in your locker, would we?”

You can see that he’s violently angry and he raises his hand, but your grab hold of his wrist before it can touch you. You whip around, your lips twisting into a smirk as you bend his arm backwards.

“You can’t do shit and you want to know why? Because I have shit on not only you, but all of your boys here and the rest of the basketball team. So I would think about your actions very carefully. Because you walk around here like you’ve got the biggest dick but honestly, I think that’s just wishful thinking as I’ve unfortunately seen it and let’s just say it leaves a lot to be desired.”

You hold up your pinky and the rest of the boys all make a commotion at your size reference. They’re all cackling and you just smile as Jason seethes with anger, his cheeks burning red.

With that, you let his arm go and Jason and the rest of the guys file out of the bathroom, making sure to push past Eddie as they do so, calling him a freak as well as other names before they’re all out in the hallway, leaving the two of you alone.

You look at him and think he’s gonna shrink in on himself, but he’s just smiling at you like an idiot as he steps closer to you, his hands moving to rest on your hips.

“Eddie, I’m so-“ you go to apologize but his lips are on yours before you can.

“That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles against yours lips. “God, I love when you take charge like that. It makes me-“ he pauses, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Makes you what?” You ask and in response, he pulls you close and presses his bulge against your crotch, showing you exactly what he means. “Oh-“ you gasp and look into his eyes that are getting darker by the second.

“Why don’t we go back to your place and finish what we started last night, hm?”

“God, please,” he whines and you take him by the hand, leading him out to the parking lot where his van sits.

Eddie honestly can’t believe his luck as he hurries to open the passenger door for you. Shit, the prettiest girl in Hawkins wants to go back to his place and fuck him? He wants to know what he’s done in his past life in order to have deserved that.

You get into the van before he closes the door and you can’t help but notice the tension and how different it is. The van is filled with nothing but sexual tension when Eddie gets inside and you want nothing more than for him to take you right there, but you know he won’t, not in public.

You throw your backpack in the floorboard while Eddie’s ends up somewhere in the back before he starts the engine, pulling out of his space, speeding out of the parking lot and down the road.

He really wants to speed like always, but he’s got precious cargo, so he’s going to slow down just to be sure you’re safe. He reaches over and turns the dials of the radio up as a metal song you somewhat recognize comes on.

You must admit that it feels very weird to go back to being good friends as if last night hadn’t happened at all, but you’re grateful for it, hoping that now it can all be in the past so you can focus on the present. That seems to be what Eddie wants to do anyway. And you’re more than happy to oblige.

You still can’t believe that out of all of the women in Hawkins that you’re the one he wants to be his first. But then again, maybe you can. He’s told you on more than one occasion that he trusts you more than anyone and that he considers you to be his best friend.

To you, sex is sex, a meaningless transaction between two people that’s nothing but for the sole purpose of using each other for their bodies. But to Eddie, you know it’s much more than that. He wants his first time to mean something. You wanted the same thing for yourself, but all you got was a quick fuck in the backseat of Billy’s car and it was over before you could even process what was happening.

It was something you felt like you had to do in order to make Billy like you, so he’d keep you around. And he was always so selfish in bed, taking and taking from you, not even caring if you were enjoying yourself. It eventually got to the point where you started faking it and he was none the wiser since he was so caught up in his own pleasure.

Just from last night, though, you know what sex with Eddie will be different. He actually seems to care about what you like and had even been beating himself up because of how he had done too much too fast. You wanted to enjoy yourself, but ultimately, you wanted to make sure that this was a perfect first time for him.

The van pulls up the familiar trailer and Eddie grabs his backpack before hurrying to your side and helping you out of your seat. Hand in hand, you head into the trailer where Wayne is sitting at the table, eating what looks like an early dinner before he has to go to work.

Wayne has easily become a father figure to you since your parents aren’t really around and he treats you like you’re part of the family. Even though he doesn’t have a lot to give you since he’s always tight on money, he still reminds you that what’s his is yours. Because in his mind, this is your safe place, the spot you go to when you need to get away from your house. And he’s always there with a mug of his famous hot chocolate and a warm hug. If it’s especially bad, he’ll have Eddie run down to Family Video to rent your favorite movie so it’s ready when you show up.

He beams when you walk through the door before grabbing his jacket to head out the door. As he’s putting it on, you approach him, waiting until he’s done to pull him into a tight hug. His arms immediately wrap around you and he gives you a tight squeeze as you bury your face into his chest. It’s moments like these where you feel the most safe. Because being in Wayne’s arms takes away the nightmares. And you suppose like uncle like nephew because the same always happens with Eddie too.

“Well, you two kids have fun,” he says once you pull away, moving to ruffle Eddie’s hair. “I left some money for pizza on the counter. And don’t stay up too late, you hear me? You two still have school tomorrow.” That’s right. It’s only Monday.

With that, Wayne flees the trailer, leaving you and Eddie alone once again. Eddie heads into the kitchen to pick up the phone to call the pizza place and you stand next to him as he speaks, ordering the usual that you always share.

You look up at him as he wraps the cord around his hand, something he always does to stimulate his brain. And you love all of his cute little quirks like that. If it’s not the phone cord, he’s fiddling with his fingers, sometimes yours when you let him hold your hand when he’s particularly overwhelmed.

He’s not the guy everyone says he is, that much is true. People just don’t like that’s so unapologetically himself. He’s nothing but sweet and kind and you hate that everyone just jumps to conclusions because he plays a game with his friends.

You wish they could all see what you do, but you know they won’t. They’re all so stuck in their ways that they won’t even stop for a second to consider that maybe they’re in the wrong. But it doesn’t matter anyway because you kind of want him all to yourself.

Eddie hangs up the phone then looks at you, his mind wandering to all the things you could show him. And he wants you to. He wants so badly to finish off where you started off last night. After all, wasn’t that why you were there in the first place?

And before he can think too much about it, his lips are on yours as his hands grab onto whatever he can get to first and that happens to be your cheeks. It starts off soft and sweet but then he gets more rough with it, his hands sliding into your hair as they press into your scalp. He’s kissing you like he’s been doing it his whole life and you can’t help but get lost in him, the feeling of his lips on yours absolutely addicting.

You grab hold of his hands and he’s concerned about how much he likes feeling yours in his. They’re always soft and warm compared to his cool, rough ones. You’re giving him a look and he knows you have something important to say because you’ve got that look. The one that always means that you have something important to say.

But he doesn’t mind. In fact he likes it. He likes seeing this side of you, the side that’s not afraid to take charge, stealing exactly what it is that you want from him. You’re needy and hungry and goddamn are your lips addicting.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur as your hands slide up his shirt. “And you’re such a good boy. Gonna be a good one for me tonight?” You ask as Eddie’s hands white knuckle the edge of the counter since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Mhm,” he nods, too caught up in the way your tongue slides into his mouth. He remembers what you had done last night and wraps his tongue around it, giving it a rough suck that elicits a whine to fall from your lips.

He likes the way it sounds and you can tell because you can feel him harden slightly against you. You think he’s going to ask to take it to the next step, but he doesn’t, his lips finding yours again as your hands stay against his bare back, not roaming around like he wants them to.

And now you’re pulling him close to you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you’re backing out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, closing the door behind you. Your hands are moving higher and higher as Eddie pulls away, lifting his arms so you can remove his shirt and you do, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside before you pull him to you again, taking his hands in yours and looking him in the eyes.

“If I do something you don’t like or you just want to stop, let me know. And on the opposite of that, if I do something you do like, don’t be afraid to make noise. In fact, the louder the better.”

“I understand,” he nods, threading your fingers together. “Thank you for making me feel good. That means a lot to me. And I’ll do whatever you want. This is just as much about you as it is about me.”

Your cheeks heat at his words, feeling your heart warm. You had only ever slept with one person and he never did what you wanted. So while Eddie’s words make you feel special, you can’t help but think about how foreign they sounded.

“You’re so sweet,” you smile, fighting back your tears as you pull him in for another kiss, this one more needy, more hungry than your others. He licks into your mouth and lets it roam around, wanting to taste every single inch of it, wanting to familiarize himself with it.

“Undress me,” you mumble against his lips and he pauses, pulling away from you as his eyes widen. The words have come out so naturally as if it was something you had asked him to do all the time. He saw you naked last night, but this is different. He hadn’t really been thinking about it, thinking more about how he was inside you and what he was supposed to do. He was really going to appreciate you now.

He feels nervous but excited as he raises his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling up on it and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head, revealing a black bra that he can’t stop staring at. He then pulls himself out of his trance and moves on to your jeans. You can see his hands shaking and you want nothing more than to pull him into a hug.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you say, bringing your hands up to rest on top of his. “C’mere,” you hold your arms out and he’s quick to pull you against him, his head resting on your chest while his arms wrap around your waist.

“There’s no need to be nervous, baby,” you tell him as you bring your hand up to stroke his hair the way you know he likes. “It’s just me.”

But that’s the thing, Eddie thinks. It’s just you. You’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and you can sleep with any guy you want, so why him? Why’s he so special? He’s got a lot of insecurity surrounded by not being wanted, so you wanting him…in this way, is making him feel out of place.

“Yeah, exactly,” he replies, pulling back to look at you. “It's you. You’re beautiful and could have any guy you want. So why me, y/n?” He’s pouting as he lowers his head and you want to kiss him stupid, to take him right there on his bed to show him just how much this means to you and that he’s not just someone you want to cross off a list.

You know he’s asking a genuine question, but you can’t help but laugh. You thought it was obvious. He’s your best friend and all you want to do is make him feel good. You want to tell him about how often you’ve thought about him in that way. That you’ve thought about him almost every time you’ve slept with Billy, just wishing that Eddie had taken his place

“You wanna know why I chose you?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and he just nods. “Because you’re sweet,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “And kind.” His other cheek. “And adorable.” This one is pressed to his nose and he feels his cheeks flush with all of the compliments. “And not to mention stupidly hot.” The last kiss is for his lips and he quickly melts into you, his hands moving up to your bra as that was all the convincing he needed. He somehow unhooks it with ease then steps away so it can fall between the two of you.

When he takes your naked torso, he lets out a gasp at how absolutely breathtaking you look. He lets his eyes rake over you, stopping at your tits, really taking the time to check you out since he hadn’t last night. You’re definitely the most beautiful naked woman he’s seen, not that he’s seen as any in real life besides yours, but he’s still sure that he’s right.

“You can touch me, Eddie,” you assure him. “It’s okay. I know you want to.” And he does, so badly. So he slowly reaches up and brings his hands up to them, letting you fix them so they’re making the correct gesture.

His thumbs press against your nipples and you instruct him on what to do, moaning loudly as his thumbs move in circular motions, leaning into him as you do so. He’s getting harder against you, feeling himself progressively tenting in his jeans as more moans fall from your lips as he continues to work.

The whole thing feels foreign to him, but you just feel so good in his mouth that he wants to continue. He hasn’t been doing it for long, but he thinks he could easily do it for hours. Especially when you’re making such pretty sounds. And they sound even better in real life than they have in his dreams. You’re so loud and he’s absolutely eating it up.

“That’s it,” you moan. “Just like that-fuck.” Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing, but the next thing he knows, his mouth is on your nipple, his tongue swirling around it he gives it a rough suck. “So you’ve got foreplay down for sure,” you tell him through labored breaths.

His movements continue, sucking on your nipple as his tongue flicks against it, but then he decides to test the waters by bringing it between his teeth and that seems to unleash something in you. You moan so loudly and he just knows you’re coming by the way you arch your back, your nails scratching down his as your head falls backwards, his name coming out of your mouth in the most hot way he’s ever heard.

He’s feeling cocky now as he’s successfully gotten you off. And he was able to do it with just his mouth so he thinks that has to mean something. He wonders if Billy’s ever done that, making you come so loudly even though he shouldn’t be comparing himself to him. Things with you and Billy are clearly over, so he doesn’t need to be thinking about him anymore. He’s no longer a threat anymore.

“Fuck, need you inside me,” you whine as you’re coming down from your orgasm. “Take off my pants. God, he’s bricked now and he finds himself needing to be inside you just as much as you do. So you’re both taking each other’s pants off, struggling to do so, so you take your own pants off until you’re both in your underwear.

And the next thing you know, you’re both fully naked and Eddie is lying flat on the bed, all ready for you as you move to straddle him, but you pause before you can get into position. He sees a concerned look on your face and he’s quick to sit up, grabbing hold of your hips as he sits up, a look of concern flashing across his face as he prepares to do whatever you need, whatever he can to make that furrow of your eyebrows to go away.

“What’s wrong, honeybee?” He asks as his fingers move up and down your back gently.

“We used my last condom last night, and obviously I didn’t think this was going to happen, so-” You cut yourself off as you chew on your bottom lips. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this nervous and it’s internally panicking. You’re usually so laid back about everything so he can’t understand why something like not having a condom is causing you to stress.

“We don’t have to use one,” he says and clearly that was the wrong answer by the way you look at him. You haven’t even done anything yet and he’s already fucked up again. But he’s willing to fix it. To do anything to see that pretty smile again.

“But what about-”

“Hey,” he cuts you off, his voice so soft and reassuring that you take a deep breath, trying so hard to match his energy. “It’s okay. I have one.” He leans over to his bedside table and pulls one out of the drawer and he sees you visibly relax as he presents it to you.

You open it and roll it onto him before topping him, the moan that falls from his lip sounding like music to your ears and you begin to ride him slow as his hips buck against yours at the same pace. Together, you move as one as you lean over him as your hands find his. You watch him come undone underneath you, grateful that it’s going much better than it did the night before.

“Fuck, honeybee,” he whines. “This is so much better than I was imagining.” He’s cringing as soon as the words leave his mouth, but all you can do is smile.

“Oh, so you’ve been imagining it?” You tease, but really, you’re nothing but flattered. That he’s been thinking about it in the way that you have. “Well that makes two of us.”

“All the time,” he tells you. “When I go to bed, in the shower, even in-” he’s cut off by an orgasm rolling through him and you watch in amazement, fascinated as you watch him come absolutely undone beneath you.

He’s a little embarrassed by how quickly he’s come, but you seem to be into it, encouraging him, talking him through it. And god does, this beat the nights where he has nothing but his lotion, sock and hand to keep him company. Now that he’s had the real thing, masturbation is never going to compare in his eyes.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. Such a good boy for me, hm?” You coo and he swears he’s going to all over again just by hearing that nickname. He eats it up every time.

Just when you’re going to make him come again, there’s a knock on the door, making the two of you pause. You had completely forgotten about the pizza as other things had taken over your mind. You let out a laugh then climb off Eddie before helping him sit up.

“I’ll get it,” you tell him as you throw on his boxers and t-shirt before standing in front of him. “Just make sure to save room for dessert,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to his lips and then you disappear into the hallway while Eddie hurries to dispose of the condom and clean himself up before he finds another pair of boxers and t-shirt.

Once he’s dressed, he sits on the bed feeling nothing but giddy as he’s actually had sex with his dream girl. He collapses onto his bed with a contented sigh as he waits for you to come back. A grin is plastered on his face as he stares up at the ceiling and he can still feel himself inside of you. He’s riding a high that drugs have never been able to give him and that orgasm was easily the best one he’s ever had.

You come back into the room looking like nothing but a dream and he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon as you set the pizza box on the bed along with two plates and bottles of water.

You hand Eddie a plate and he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier in his life. You’ve shared more meals together than you can count throughout your friendship but this one feels different. It feels more intimate, almost like you’re a couple but you’re clearly not. At least, that’s what Eddie keeps reminding himself.

You sit right next to him and Eddie can feel your warmth emanating off your body. And seeing you in his clothes is doing something to him. Why is he more nervous to sit next to you than he was to sleep with you? Maybe it’s because it’s brought you closer, makes him realize just how in love with you he is even though he knows his feelings aren’t reciprocated. And that’s perfectly fine with Eddie. He doesn’t care what you are to him as long as you’re in his life.

The two of you polish off the pizza then go for multiple rounds between Eddie’s sheets before you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Eddie’s convinced that’s the best sleep he’s ever gotten and he knows that’s just because you’re there. There’s something about you that always seems to calm the screams that always circle his mind when he’s alone or with anyone who’s not you.

And you sleep well too, deciding that you’ll be able to do so as long as you’re in his arms, and you intend to be for as long as he’ll have you. It’s not like your parents will notice or care anyway. They’re either out for the night or arguing so loud that you can’t focus on anything else. Eddie’s trailer is the one place where you feel like you can actually get some peace and quiet.

Ever since that night in Eddie’s trailer, the two of you have been fucking on any surface you can find. You’ve done it on his couch, the back of his van, the boys’ bathroom at school, the janitor’s closet, and even on the hellfire table when you had met up with him after the session. It’s all just a cycle and neither of you can seem to get enough, as one of you is always initiating it and it’s always obvious where it’s going.

And even though it’s only been almost a week, Eddie’s become a natural. He somehow always knows what you want and when you want it, giving it to you with no question. He knows where to touch and what to say, god is he good at the dirty talk. He may be shy in public, but as soon as it's just the two of you, he’s got a filthy mouth.

But even when you’re not sleeping together, you’re still attached at the hip wherever you go. If you’re at his trailer, you’re cuddled up on the couch and at school, you’re either walking hand in hand or have your arms wrapped around each other. And when you can’t see each other for whatever reason, you’re on the phone, yapping into the early hours of the morning when you’re definitely supposed to be asleep.

This is the happiest either of you have been and even though you don’t exactly know what you and Eddie are, you’re just happy to have him around because of how happy he makes you. You know that the elephant in the room should be addressed, but you’re terrified to have that conversation. You’ve already had it with Billy and look where that got you.

Eddie knows there’s something you’re not saying. He can see it in your mannerisms and even right on your face, but he doesn’t want to pry. He doesn’t want to get into your business because that’s yours. He doesn’t like to pry. But he wants to know what you’re thinking. He wants you to just come out and say it even though he can’t get himself to ask. So you both just dance around the subject since your bodies do all of the talking anyway.

You find yourselves in the back of Eddie’s van once again in the parking lot of the grocery store. You know how public it is, but that makes it even more exciting. You’re on all fours as he fucks you from behind, his cock pounding into you as one of his hands is massaging your tit. You’re facing the back so anyone could see pretty much all of you as they pass by, but it’s not like you’re looking anyway.

Your eyes are shut tight as continuous moans fall from your lips as Eddie’s encouraging you with the most filthy words. He’s slowly fitting all of himself inside you inch by inch and even though you feel like you’re going to be torn apart, you hardly mind. In fact, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So good, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine.

“Yeah, you like that, honeybee?” He asks as his fingers dig into your hips. You like how he still uses your sweet nickname that always juxtaposes his dirty words. You don’t know where it came from, but it always seems to make your cold heart thaw just a little bit every time you hear it.

“More,” you moan. “Harder.” He hesitantly does as you ask and pounds into you even harder, a louder moan falling from your lips as he does so.

Billy pulls into the parking lot, muttering to himself about how he always has to do everything. Of course Susan just had to be out of pumpkin for a recipe and of course she sent him to the store because Neil can never get off his lazy ass and do anything for his wife.

He’s still muttering to himself about his shitty life when he sees a van rocking back and forth a few feet away. And because he’s a perv, he just has to see who’s getting it on in the grocery store parking lot. He recognizes the van, but he can’t figure out where from.

He approaches the back and peers in, feeling himself getting hard as he’s just thinking about seeing what he thinks he will. Whoever this chick is, she’s hot, and the way she comes makes him feel tight in his jeans. He’s seconds away from climbing in the van himself and taking over while he makes the bastard watch.

The girl looks familiar to him, though. He’s definitely seen her but he can’t quite pinpoint where. Maybe he’s fucked her? That seems likely considering he’s fucked pretty much all of the girls in Hawkins…and their moms. But then it all clicks in his brain as he sees you moan and now he’s angry, especially when he gets a glimpse of who’s behind you.

You and Munson?

He thinks he’s going to be sick as his hands slam against the van, causing both of you to jump. But he’s gone when you two look up, continuing what your doing. You’re reaching your orgasm and your moans are loud as your body starts to go limp.

You don’t mean to say it, the words just come out because of how overwhelmed with pleasure you are. It’s just three words, but they hold so much meaning, hold so much power.

“I love you,” you cry, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, you both pause, the sudden realization of what you’ve said washing over the two of you. Eddie’s quick to pull out and he grabs your shoulders and twists you around, pinning you to the floor of the van so he can see your face.

You think he’s going to make a run for it, but he just stays there, staring down at you with his pretty brown eyes. And then a smile kicks up at the corners of his mouth and now he’s full on grinning. You cover your face in embarrassment, wanting to take it all back, but he grabs hold of your hands and pins them to the floorboard so you can’t hide.

Eddie lowers himself down onto you and he pushes some of your sweaty hair away from your forehead, his grin faltering, but the smile is still very much there.

“I love you too, honeybee,” he replies as his lips find your cheek, then your other one, peppering your face in kisses as multiple “I love you’s” come from his mouth, the giggles coming from yours sounding like music to his ears. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. But if we’re getting specific, it was that night we watched Carrie and you snuggled into my chest.”

“You’ve loved me that long?” You ask and he pecks your lips.

“I have,” he nods, his cheeks going pink as he lays his head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair.

“I think I’ve loved you for a while, but I realized it when I left that night, thinking that you were mad at me and I realized how devastated I was to possibly not have you in my life.”

You feel your heart hammering in your chest as you confess to him, the feeling of vulnerability making you feel sick. But that all disappears when he leans up to look at you, resting his chin on your chest as he smiles up at you.

Eddie knows how scary you find sharing your feelings so he’s honored that you’re being honest with him. That you value him so much that you feel like you can tell him what you’d never want to tell anyone else. And that just shows just how much you value him as a person.

“Wow,” he replies with a smile.

“And I was thinking…that if you’re up for it…we could go to Nancy’s party tomorrow night. As a couple.”

Eddie’s smile grows even wider as he pins you to the floor one more time, peppering your face in kisses again, your laugh even louder this time.

“I’d love to,” he says as his lips find yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he smiles into the kiss. And the two of you stay like that for a while, until your lips are kiss-bitten and he lays his head on your chest again, thinking to himself that he’s finally done something right in his.

“The blue one,” Eddie says as you hold up two dresses for him to choose. He’s lying on your bed as you get ready for the party, staring at you with so much love, completely enthralled by your routine.

“That’s the one I wanted you to pick,” you reply as you pull it off the hanger and throw it over your head. Eddie is quick to stand behind you and he zips up your dress, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he does so.

“You look beautiful,” he says. “But you know where it would look even better?” He asks, his lips right by the shell of your ear. “On the floor,” he whispers and his hot breath sends a chill up your spine. “We could stay in,” he presses another kiss to your shoulder, moving up to your neck.

“Eddie,” you laugh and turn around so you’re facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands rested on your waist. “We have to go,” you tell him. “I promised Nancy.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “But you owe me after.”

“Of course I do,” you nod and press a kiss to his lips before you grab your shoes and let him lead you out to his van.

Everyone’s already at Nancy’s when the two of you show up and Eddie squeezes your hand as you pull him through the crowd, pressing his body against your back as he’s suddenly nervous again. He had hyped himself up the whole way there, but now he’s feeling like his shy self and is trying so hard to resist the urge to lock himself in the bathroom the whole night.

You’re the only reason why he’s even there. He can’t say no to your pretty face even though parties are the bane of his existence. Well, he doesn’t know that for sure since he’s never actually been to one that wasn’t hosted by someone in Hellfire. But they’re not really his thing. He hates the loud music and all of the chatter gets into his head and drives him crazy.

But he’s there for you. Because he loves you so much that he’ll do whatever you ask. And he saw how happy you were when you were getting ready and there was no way he was going to disappoint you.

So he lets you pull him into the living room where the host of the evening is conversing with Robin. You pull Eddie over to them with a smile and theirs match yours once they spot you.

“There she is,” Nancy says as she pulls you into a hug and Robin follows. “And it looks like I owe Robin five dollars.”

“Why do you owe her money?” You ask and she and Robin giggle.

“She bet me that you’d bring Eddie. But I only owe her if the two of you are together.”

“We are,” you confirm and you and Eddie are wearing matching grins. As shy as he is, he wants the world to know that he’s your boyfriend so he doesn’t mind in the slightest that you’re telling your friends. In fact, he prefers it. It means that you feel so secure in your relationship that you want to tell people about it.

“Good, because I owe Steve,” Robin replies and Nancy’s quick to elbow her in the stomach.

“What she means is that we’re happy for you guys. It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it, Rob?”

That makes you wonder how obvious the two of you have been and how neither of you saw it. But you can see where they’re coming from as you’ve always been very close to Eddie, both emotionally and physical.

“It sure has,” you hear a voice behind you and feel your skin crawl as you know exactly who it is. You don’t want to turn around, but force yourself, making sure that your mind isn’t playing tricks on you. You have to confirm that you’re not in some sort of fucked up nightmare.

You gasp when you see Billy standing a few feet away, slowly making his way closer as one arm holds onto a girl’s waist and his other hand is holding a cigarette that he’s putting to his lips. He takes a drag and blows it into the air. You grab hold of Eddie’s hand and squeeze it as Billy approaches, blinking a few times and even going as far as pinching yourself to be positive that he was actually there.

“So you two, huh?” He asks, referring to the both of you with his cigarette. “So it looks like you got my sloppy seconds. That’s fine. She’s damaged goods anyway.”

By the way he’s speaking, you can tell he’s drunk, so much so that you can smell it on him even with him standing so far away. You can see how angry Eddie is already getting out of the corner of your eye.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” He asks as he removes his arm from the girl, slightly pushing her aside as he puts his cigarette out on the mantle above the fireplace. “Better be careful, Munson. She might try to baby trap you.”

That’s a low fucking blow and Billy knows it. He knows how to hit you right where it hurts and he can see it’s worked as horror flashes across your face. Good, that will show you for leaving him.

You remember it all so vividly, the flashbacks coming back to you in full force. It hits you all so hard that you have to hold onto Eddie as you try to shake it out of your head, but you can’t.

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell Billy as you hold up the test for him to see. You think he’s going to jump for joy, but you guess you should have known better as he steps closer to you, anger evident on his face.

“What the fuck is that?” He asks as he points to the test.

“It’s a test,” you reply, your smile faltering, your voice getting smaller.

“Yeah,” he spits. “A positive one and there’s no fucking way I’m having a baby.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I can raise it on my own.” Before you can turn away from him, he grabs onto your wrist and squeezes it until you’re wincing.

“Yeah, that’s not fucking happening. I don’t need people finding out that I fathered a child and I most certainly don’t need that little fucker trying to find me when it gets older.” He lets go of your hand then takes the tests and throws it in the trash before turning back to you. “We’re getting rid of it and you’re not going to tell anyone, got it?”

“Y/n…what’s he talking about?” Eddie asks as he steadies you and you’re not ready to tell him the truth.

“Tell him, y/n,” Billy commands. “Tell him about how you were so hellbent on having a baby that you tricked me into it.”

“I didn’t trick you,” you correct, shaking off the nervousness in your voice. “It’s not my fault you never wear a condom and didn’t pull out in time.”

You’ve got an audience now and you want the floor to swallow you whole while Billy is eating up the attention. That’s the whole reason why he’s there. He just wants to put on a show, to make you regret what you’ve done. Because if Billy can’t be happy, no one can.

You feel like you’re going to throw up and have to step closer to Eddie to make yourself feel more comfortable. You want to leave but know you can’t, because then Billy will win and you can’t have that. You want to be the champion this time.

“Well it doesn’t matter anymore,” Billy chuckles as he grabs a cup from some girl’s hand then downs it before throwing it to the side. He then takes a few strides until he’s standing in front of you. “Because the little thing doesn’t exist anymore, does it?” He asks and you’re so pulled into the flashback that you don’t hear everyone gasp as he makes the revelation.

All of a sudden, you’re thrown back in the waiting room where you had to sit alone, unbeknownst to you that Billy was fucking some other girl right after dropping you off. He was making you get rid of the baby that you wanted and he didn’t even have the decency to sit with you.

When you come out of your trance just in time to see Eddie throw a punch Billy’s way and Billy retaliates but Eddie is quick to move out of the way, causing Billy’s fist to collide with your face. Everyone gasps as you cover your nose with your hands and the girls pull you back as Eddie gets in a few more punches, causing Billy to fall to the floor before Eddie takes you up stairs to the bathroom to help clean you up.

You’re sobbing as Eddie pulls you up the stairs and once you’re there, he pulls you into the bathroom, making you sit on the toilet as he rifles through the cabinet above the sink to find what he needs to help you.

He can’t fucking believe it. He knew Billy was a dick, but he didn’t know that he went around making his hookups get abortions, especially not you. He wants to ask exactly what happened, but he knows it’s not his place. So he just gathers what he needs then moves to kneel in front of you.

He cleans up your wound and you feel guilt rising inside you as you think about the fact that he knows your biggest secret and you weren’t even the one to tell him. It makes you feel so sick that Billy had shown up with the intention of embarrassing you, but you guess you shouldn’t be surprised. And he got what he wanted anyway, even if he got a bloody and possibly broken nose in return.

“It happened last year…around this time,” you tell him as he hands you a piece of toilet paper which you put against your nose, wincing at the pain. “I told him that I was pregnant and he…I…” You try to find the words, but Eddie presses his hands against your cheeks to stop you.

“Hey, hey, let’s not focus on that right now, okay?” He asks. “We’re gonna fix up your nose and then we’re gonna go home and watch a movie and once you’ve slept on it and have a clear head, then you can tell me.”

“Okay,” you nod, knowing that you can’t fight him on it. And you don’t want to anyway. You agree and think it's too much for one night.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up, okay, honeybee?” You nod and let him clean you up, noticing how often he’s called you that nickname and now you want to know where it came from, the meaning behind it.

“Why do you call me ‘honeybee’?” You ask, looking up at him and he laughs in response.

“Because you’re sweet like honey, but you sting like a bee,” he winks. “Now hold on, this might sting,” he says as he brings a cotton pad covered in alcohol up to the wound.

You watch him as he works and can’t believe that after all the shit you’ve gone through that you finally found someone who loves you for who you are. That he doesn’t think low of you because of where you come from or your home life or the way you react to things because of your trauma.

Eddie sees the version of you that you show to only him and as you’ve gotten closer to him, you’ve felt the walls that you’ve spent years building fall away. You feel more like yourself around him and less like the shell that you had been when you hung out with Billy. And when you look into the future, you can see the two of you together, rocking your newborn on the front porch of the house you share together. And then you’d take her over to Wayne’s so he could watch her while the two of you go out for a much needed date night. And maybe, if you play your cards right, that’s exactly what will happen.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #virgin!eddie #virgin! eddie x experienced!reader

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remlionheart · 1 year ago

Text

“You came.”

“You called.”

✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.

He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.

“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.

But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.

Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.

He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.

It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.

He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.

He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.

You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.

Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.

Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”

His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.

His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.

So, he drank.

Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.

You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.

He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.

He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.

After all this time, he was still running.

With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.

Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.

“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.

“You’re up late.”

There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”

He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.

His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”

“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”

“Good. Come over.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”

But he already had.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.

His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.

He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.

He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.

His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.

With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.

You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.

Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.

He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.

"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.

You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.

"You called."

The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.

The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.

He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.

“How’ve you been?”

It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.

But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.

“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"

He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.

“Quit.”

You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”

“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."

You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.

His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."

He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.

"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."

It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.

His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.

"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."

"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.

His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.

His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."

"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.

"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."

He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.

"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."

"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."

Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."

"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."

"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.

"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"

Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.

"Tell me to stop."

His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.

With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.

He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.

"Tell me to fucking stop."

There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.

You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.

He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.

"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.

Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.

His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”

It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"

It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.

"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"

It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.

His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.

He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.

Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.

“Fuuuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.

His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.

You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.

“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”

It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.

You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”

“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”

You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.

“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”

He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.

You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”

He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.

"You're doing so good. Just like that."

You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.

"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."

It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.

His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.

“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #megumi smut #megumi x angst #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi smut #jjk x you #toxic!megmi #jjk fanfic

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unriding · 4 months ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 11 — PET PLAY. kiryu mitsuki x f!reader ﾉ you think he just likes seeing you embarrassed at this point. tonight, it’s worse than ever before, and he’s loving every single second of it.

contains — brief dry humping, pet play (kitten), anal (toy only), double stuffed (kiryu + toy), praise, teasing, pet names

“Does it hurt?”

Kiryu loops one finger underneath your collar, then another. Even a third after that for extra measure. It doesn’t seem to be too tight when he gives it a gentle tug, but he takes notice of the way your breath hitches underneath his fingers. “N-no. Not too tight, ‘Suki.”

The soft smile he gives you makes your heart skip a beat. “I’m glad. I want you to be comfortable after all.”

“So, let’s see. Starting now…” his fingers slowly trail down your neck— down the center of your chest, and you shiver. “No more talking, okay? Cats can’t speak.”

A shaky exhale slips out when he finally ghosts over your stomach. He slows down here, drags his fingertips across your skin until he’s hovering only an inch or two above your clit. “Hm? So how about it? Sound good?”

The eager nod you respond with makes him chuckle. On a normal day, you’d be embarrassed—cheeks heating up as soon as you catch that glint of amusement in his eyes, but you can’t find it in yourself to care today.

Not with how badly you need him right now.

His fingers move behind you— over your hips and they land just over your tail. You freeze as soon as he touches it. That tail. The toy he’s been teasing you with all night, and also the one that’s currently three inches inside you. “Aren’t you such a..” his lips curl into a little smile, and he presses into it, “good kitty?”

“A-ah!” You jolt forward in his lap, accidentally pushing your hips down against his cock in the process. “Oh?Careful there, kitty. And that wasn’t very cat-like.”

You almost apologize. Almost.

“N..nya.”

The heat rises to your ears as soon as the sound leaves your mouth. It’s embarrassing, but you’re painfully aware that Kiryu’s always loved seeing you like this. A little shy, a little flustered, and a little needy. It makes his cock ache— twitches up and slaps against your clit, and you bite back a moan.

He was never able to fight the urge to tease you a bit whenever you end up like this. “See? That’s good. Good, good kitty- I love you.”

The praise only makes you feel warmer inside. It’s practically impossible for you to tell whether the warmth bubbling up inside your core is from your need to be filled or just plain embarrassment from his praise— but it doesn’t matter to you either way.

He’ll always give you exactly what you need in the end. He always does. “..Again?”

“….Nya.”

“Good! Wow. You’re such a perfect pet, aren’t you?”

You nod with a little more desperation this time.

Because as good of a kitten as you are, you don’t think you can wait much longer. A tight embrace around his middle as you start rubbing your cunt up and down his length is all he needs to know what you want from him. “Mhm. Then, I’ll give you your milk now, okay? Be good for me.”

You nod even harder. Let him run his palms along your thighs and line you up with his length. Let him plant sloppy kisses along your neck and jaw, smiling against your skin when you gasp from the initial stretch. It’s a little different— feels much fuller with the tail in your other hole and you wonder if he can feel it too.

He has to.

Kiryu always fucks you so well. Thrusts deep inside you— starting slow and precise. Aims to hit the spot deep inside you that’ll have you gushing in seconds. And you think that if it wasn’t for the eager throb of his cock— you probably wouldn’t be able to tell just how much seeing you like this is affecting him.

Kiryu is still only human though.

It slips past his sweet smile for just a moment— just enough to accidentally slam you down onto his length, and a loud whine of his name escapes your lips this time.

Uh oh.

“Oops,” he tugs your collar downwards, pulls you towards him until your face is just an inch away from his own, and you do everything in your power to keep your face from contorting at fullness. “No speaking,” he pushes his thumb into your bottom lip, and you nearly whimper at the touch— “…..remember?”

You want to apologize so bad, but you can’t. Not again. So you settle with a slow gulp and a nervous nod, giving him that look you’re certain he’ll understand as an apology.

He smiles again. Cute.

You don’t know when he snaked an arm around your waist— takes you by complete surprise when you’re suddenly flipped onto your back before you even realize it, wide eyes now peering up at him. He only gives you an apologetic smile. “Just kidding.~”

Typical.

His hands come to pin your own above your head, laces his fingers with your own before he rubs this thumb back and forth along your palm. “I was gonna reward you from the start, of course. You’re just so cute.”

He gives you one reassuring squeeze. “So,” Kiryu dips down until his lips hover just over your own, “you can make all those pretty sounds for me, okay?”

Another squeeze. This one’s tighter than the first. More like a warning. “All of them. And look at me when you when you cum.”

#— ⚘( ၴႅၴ writing.#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wbk #wbk x reader #wbk smut #wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker smut #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker kiryu #wbk kiryu #kiryu mitsuki #kiryu x reader #kiryu smut #kiryu mitsuki smut #kiryu mitsuki x reader #wb smut #wind breaker imagines #wind breaker drabbles

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sturnioz · 3 months ago

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toxicex!matt knows exactly how to get under your skin.

you feel sick, your stomach churning in tight knots while your throat constricts painfully as you peer over the rim of your cup, your gaze fixed on matt, watching through glassy eyes as he flirts with the fourth girl of the night.

his hands linger on their waists, occasionally slipping down to grope their ass. lipstick marks stain his jaw and neck, and he leans in to whisper sweet little things to them — all while staring you down with that smirk on his lips.

you hate the smug look on his face, and you hate the way you're still feeling this way nearly a month after the breakup. you constantly remind yourself that he's not yours anymore, that the jealousy and hurt swirling inside you are unwarranted.

yet, it's nearly impossible to believe those words when matt always seems to find his way back; back into your bed. his body pressed against yours, his breath hot in your ear as he murmurs how much he wants you and how much you need him.

but, inevitably, you're left feeling like the fool when it's all over; after he slips away and leaves you alone in your bed, hollow and aching, tears swimming in your eyes as you wonder which girl he'll be flirting with the next time you see him, always replaying the scene in your mind like a haunting loop.

matt shouldn't matter to you anymore; he should have been faded from your thoughts and life the moment you ended things.

but it's not that simple—nothing in your life ever seems to be.

your attention is momentarily pulled away when your friend approaches, gently gripping your elbow and leaning in to shout in your ear over the thumping bass that vibrates through the club. her words are a blur, drowned out by the pulsating music and the chaos around you as your gaze drifts back to matt.

you can hardly focus on anything but him; his hand glides up to the girl's face, fingers stroking her cheek in a way that feels all too familiar— a gesture that once belonged to you. a wave of nausea hits you again as you watch him lean in, his lips brushing against her own, all while his eyes still remain completely locked on you.

you can't take it anymore, you really can't.

the weight of your emotions crashes down, and your bottom lip quivers uncontrollably as tears threaten to spill over, and in a whirlwind of desperation, you jerk away from your friend's grasp, rushing toward the exit.

your cup slips from your fingers, the plastic clattering on the floor and liquid spilling, but you don't stop to see it.

you barely register your friend calling out your name, her voice lost in the crowd's noise as you shove through the sweaty bodies, stumbling over your own heels as you strain to escape the suffocating room.

the exit door swings open, and the biting cold air rushes in, filling your constricted lungs with oxygen.

leaning against the wall outside the club, your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. the tears finally spill over, streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably as a choked sob escapes your lips, the sound raw and unfiltered.

you know you must look like a completely mess to the people lingering nearby, but their stares blur into the background — you're too caught up in your own agony to care about their judgement.

each bated breath you take feels heavy, and you stand there shivering in the cold, sniffling and sobbing as a storm of emotions swirl within you — grief, anger, and a deep sense of loss.

"oh, baby..." that all too familiar voice cuts through the haze of your mind, and your head snaps up, barely able to see through your teary vision as matt walks toward you slowly.

he must have noticed your disappearance and followed you, and despite everything, a strange warmth flickers in your chest at the thought that he might care just a little. but it's quickly overshadowed by the hurt.

you're still upset, still in agony from the sight of him with someone else, and as he closes in, you pathetically back against the wall, trapped, your heart racing.

with one hand, he grips your chin, tilting your face up to full meet his gaze, while the other taps your cheek in a way that feels condescending.

"get a hold of yourself, baby... i only want you, yeah? only you.." his smirk widens as he coos, his thumb brushing away the mascara smudging beneath your watery eyes. the gesture feels intimate, but you know it's just another manipulation tact, yet you can't help but slowly fall into it. "m'just bein' friendly, y'know... got a lot of female friends. can't just ignore 'em."

you want so desperately to believe him, to let his words wrap around you like a comforting blanket, but the reality is suffocating. the sweet scent of other girls' perfumes clings to him, and the lipstick marks smeared across his jaw are tugging painfully at your heart.

matt leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you feel the weight of his gaze, assessing you, searching for any hint of weakness. "c'mon, baby.. don't cry. y'know i can't handle seein' you cry. it hurts me."

"you hurt me," you whisper, fresh tears falling down your cheeks, and you can't look away from him. "you hurt me—you always hurt me."

his expression shifts, feigning regret as he murmurs. "m'so sorry, baby.. know i love you, only want you."

the words drip with insincerity, yet the curl around your heart like rope, pulling you closer, igniting a flicker of hope. he presses his lips to your cheeks, kissing away your tears, and you hate how your heart flutters at the familiarity of his touch, how it quiets the storm inside you.

as his mouth trails down your neck, each kiss awakens memories of warmth, and the corner of his lips twitches into a smirk. "always wan' you. my favourite girl."

you want to push him away, to remind him that you're broken up because of all the times he's shattered your heart, all the moments he's left you alone in tears, how his toxicity became unbearable. but there's an undeniable pull that you struggle to ignore, it makes it hard to resist.

"why do you do this to me?" you ask quietly, your voice trembling, torn between longing and defiance, desperation lacing your words.

he pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he murmurs, "'cos you let me, baby. you need me."

in that moment, the truth hits you like a cold wave, crashing over you brutally. it claws at your insides, a bitter reminder that you're caught up in a cycle of pain and passion. you feel lost, helpless, teetering on the edge of wanting to escape, yet you're overwhelmed by the urge to pull him into your arms and forget about everything that's gone wrong.

"tell me you need me," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, his thumb gliding across your cheek to rest on your plush bottom lip. he pulls it down slightly, watching as it bounces back into place, a playful yet possessive gesture. "tell me, baby. c'mon."

you swallow hard, your resolve crumbling as you stare into his eyes. all the reasons screaming at you to walk away seem to fade beneath his gaze, and you find yourself on the brink of surrender.

"i... i need you," you whisper, the admission slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

matt's smirk widens, a glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, "see? s'all i wanted to hear... the truth."

he pulls you in, hands firm on your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours. in that instant, the world around you fades away and you allow yourself to melt into him, surrendering yourself to desperately forget about the hurt that lingers like a dark cloud over your heart.

his kiss is both intoxicating and heart-breaking, yet it feels so familiar—so right—and you can't help but get lost in his touch, even as the tears continue to stream down your cheeks.

you can taste the salt of your tears on his lips as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding from your face to the small of your back, coaxing you in, pushing you against him.

the tension in your body starts to melt away, replaced by a dizzying rush of emotions that swirl within you; the longing, the desperation, and a flicker of hope that maybe this time will be different.

it won't be.

it never is.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

#©sturnioz #matt sturniolo angst #sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x reader #☆ toxicex!matt #꒰ toxicex!matt prompt ꒱

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megalony · 8 months ago

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Family Matters

Okay, this is my first Jim Street imagine from SWAT, requested by a lovely anon. I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriterwriter @reneinii

Swat Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When Jim's mum is out on parole and comes to live with him and (Y/n), she does whatever she can to hurt (Y/n) and come between them. And it puts (Y/n) and her unborn baby at risk.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hm, morning."

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt an arm loop around her waist and a warm pair of lips attach to the side of her neck. She tilted her head to the left, trying not to move or shudder when the short hairs on Jim's head started to graze against her cheek and caused her nerves to ignite beneath the touch.

Her lips curved into a smile and she paused, her fingers tapping against the counter where she was in the middle of making them each a coffee.

"Morning, want breakfast before you go?" She twisted her head to the right and kissed the top of his head, smiling into his hair when she felt his teeth nipping against her skin.

It was hit and miss whether Jim would have breakfast or not, most of the time he grabbed a protein bar and waited until lunch with the squad at work.

"I'd rather have you." The way his words vibrated into her neck made (Y/n)'s heart flutter and she couldn't help the grin that spread across her lips.

"Oh really?"

(Y/n) forced her hands to work and started pouring the coffee, being mindful not to spill it when she could feel Jim's lips distracting her. And she could feel him smirking into her neck. He knew what effect he had on her and how to turn her to jelly.

She barely had the cups poured before she felt Jim's hands moving down to her stomach. He finally released his head from her neck but only so he could peck the side of her head and stand up straight behind her. (Y/n) tilted her head down, rolling her lips together as she watched his hands move to roll up her top.

"What're you doing?"

"Let me look at you."

She let go of the mugs, biting the inside of her cheek when Jim spun her round so her hips were backed up against the counter and she was facing him. Her hands moved to grip the counter, keeping herself steady as a fond look danced across her face when she looked up at her husband.

"You act like you haven't seen me in weeks." The tender edge to her voice was clear while she danced her fingertips along the back of his neck.

She could see where his eyes were drifting to. He had rolled her shirt up so it rested just beneath her bra, leaving her small bump on show. He was fascinated. Every day he was looking to try and see if he could notice the small changes and to see if he could see her bump growing and changing each day.

Jim's childhood had been far from great. Fighting parents, his dad who abused the both of them and his mum who always struck back until the day she decided to fend him off with a gun. And then foster homes for the next seven years until he could finally live on his own.

He wasn't used to having a family until he worked in Swat, and he wasn't prepared for the amount of love he would receive and feel for (Y/n) when they got together. Having a family was something Jim always wanted, but it was something he had been nervous about.

Jim didn't know how good of a dad he was going to be until that pregnancy test came back positive and he could feel the changes already. He had prime examples of what not to do and he used Deacon as a role model for how he was going to make this work. The love and excitement Jim felt already was enough to show him he was going to be okay at this.

"I wanna look at my girls." He responded with a shrug and a tick of his head that almost made him look boyish.

(Y/n) reached her hands up to cradle the back of his neck and she brought him down for a kiss, soaking up the sound he made when her nails scratched the short hairs at the back of his neck. She could feel his thumbs stroking across her hipbones which made her squirm and shudder in front of him, and when he bit her lip he elicited a gasp that had him smiling against her mouth.

Her hands moved down to his shoulders when he finally released her lips and trailed his way down her neck.

She heard hum murmur 'morning girlie' against her stomach and his hands kept moving back and forth over the sides of her hips. His lips tickled her stomach but the butterflies he elicited beneath his touch had (Y/n) swaying on her feet.

"She should start moving soon." (Y/n) continued to run her hands over Jim's shoulders and the smile that danced over his face made her heart leap in her chest.

She was sure he murmured 'can't wait' against her lips when he leaned up to steal another kiss.

(Y/n) knew anytime now she should start feeling the baby move and kick and she knew once that happened, Jim wouldn't be separated from her stomach. He wanted to be there for everything, he wanted to be at all the scans and feel every movement and he was already thrilled at the thought of when (Y/n) was going to give birth. He didn't want to miss a thing.

"Good morning."

"Morning mum." Jim nuzzled his temple against (Y/n)'s neck so he could just about see his mum as she walked past them in the kitchen. He grinned when he felt (Y/n) squeeze his shoulders and he sighed and tore himself away from her. He gave her hips a lasting squeeze before he grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it back down to cover her bump.

"Want some breakfast, Jimmy?"

"No, I'm good. Guess I need to get ready." He pecked (Y/n)'s temple and pressed up close until their abdomens were touching so he could grab the travel cup from behind her that she had filled for him.

He wasn't hungry in the mornings and he wasn't bothered about breakfast, he just had to get ready to go to work.

(Y/n) ran her hand up and down his shoulder, following him with her eyes as he moved near the fridge to kiss his mum's temple before she sat down at the kitchen table.

The look Karen shot (Y/n)'s way made her shiver but she forced herself to smile. She wouldn't let her mother in law get to her, at least not while Jim was home. When he was at work, Karen seemed to unleash her spiteful side. She would make snappy comments at (Y/n), move things, changes the dates on the calendar, she would do anything she could to upset or annoy (Y/n).

But when Jim was home, Karen was the picture of the calm, sweet mother who wanted nothing more than to get along with her son and his wife.

(Y/n) hated it. She hated how rude and spiteful Karen could be, and she hated that Karen was living with them, but what other choice did they have?

She needed to have a place sorted out or else she wouldn't have been released from prison and with Jim's reasoning, (Y/n) didn't feel like she could say no. Karen had guilt tripped Jim just like she always did, she made him feel guilty, she told him that he was the reason she was in prison in the first place. She had shot her husband to protect them both and that was the way Jim had always seem things.

He wanted nothing more than for his mum to be released and they had a spare room, which his mum was always pointing out. They had the space, she wanted to be close to her son and she didn't want to be alone after all those years locked up. There was no way Jim could refuse her without breaking her heart and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Oh Jimmy, are you taking me to my interview tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? No, you said it was Friday." Jim leaned around the fridge to catch a look at the calendar on the wall.

His mum had a job, but it a long bus ride to get to and from work so Jim had found a few places closer to home that were willing to hire someone with a record.

"No, it's tomorrow at one. Can you take me sweetie?" Her smile was sincere, but it was the way she glanced over at (Y/n) that had the younger woman pushing back into the counter.

The smile faded from (Y/n)'s lips and she looped her arms over her bump, taking a deep breath to remain calm. She knew what tomorrow was. (Y/n) had her scan tomorrow and Jim had an extended lunch break tomorrow specifically so he could go to the scan with her. Hondo was happy and proud of Jim for being so involved and excited about starting a family and he said they would try and arrange Jim's shifts around (Y/n)'s appointments.

"Mum, we have the scan tomorrow, can't you get the bus?"

Jim tossed the travel mug between his hands and sank his teeth down into his lower lip enough to draw blood. He didn't want to upset his mum or make her panic, but he wanted to be at the scan, he couldn't miss that. And it wasn't a long bus ride to get to the diner in town where her interview was being held.

"Jimmy, you know how nervous interviews make me… it's not the first scan, (Y/n) will be fine without you."

With a deep breath, (Y/n) bypassed Jim and moved to the fridge to get a yoghurt. She wasn't getting involved in this, but she would make sure her silence was clear and disagreeable.

That wasn't fair.

Karen knew (Y/n) hated hospitals. Whenever Jim used to visit his mum in prison, he was forever talking about (Y/n) and their life together, how she made him feel like a better person and helped push him to get into Swat and get on the right track. Jim talked about her a lot and when he told his mum they were having a baby, he had mentioned once or twice that (Y/n) didn't do well with hospitals.

He went to the scans because he was desperate to be involved with his baby but also because he wanted to support (Y/n). He knew she had had bad experiences in hospitals and they made her nervous so he wanted to be at all her appointments to try and make it easier for her.

Jim spared a look over at his wife. He could see how hard she was gripping the fridge so she didn't start to shake and the way her eyes danced around the room gave away her unease which made him sigh.

"I can't take you, but I can pick you up afterwards."

"Oh, okay." The disappointment in Karen's voice was clear and it made (Y/n) feel sick.

Her mother in law wasn't going to make things easy for her now. Whenever Jim was at work and Karen was on a day off, (Y/n)'s day got worse. (Y/n) worked from home which had always been a comfort, right until Karen moved in with them two weeks ago. The first week she had been on her best behaviour, mostly because Jim had been home quite a lot.

Now he was back to his usual work pattern, (Y/n) was left alone with Karen who was becoming spiteful and insufferable.

"I gotta go, I'll see you both tonight."

(Y/n)'s chest fluttered when Jim held her chin between his finger and thumb so he could tilt her head up in his direction. His lips quirked up to one side and he brushed his thumb along her chin before he captured her in a quick but searing kiss.

"Love you," He spoke into her mouth, pulling her lower lip between his teeth before he was turning away and heading down the hall to grab his things.

The moment the front door closed, (Y/n) pulled her arms into her sides like she wanted to wear a suit of armour for protection. Her eyes followed Karen as she got up, lips pursed, nose crinkled and shoulders squared like she was getting ready for a fight.

Part of (Y/n) had thought in the beginning that Karen would be happy about having a grandchild. She thought Karen would be pleased for Jim because he was happy and settled. It didn't dawn on (Y/n) that Karen would become jealous. She was no longer the only person in Jim's life. Karen had been replaced. She couldn't have Jim all to herself, he was no longer the little boy she had left when she got taken to prison.

She had missed out on almost two decades of his life and as much as (Y/n) could sympathise, she couldn't condone Karen trying to keep Jim to herself and control him like she was.

"I guess you got what you wanted then."

Her harsh words made (Y/n) flinch and sigh. She didn't know whether to reach out for her mother in law or stay huddled up near the counter.

"Karen, I-"

"No, I get it. You think because you're having a baby that you've got him wrapped around your finger. Well you don't."

Both (Y/n)'s arms pressed into her stomach and she swallowed a gasp when Karen roughly barged her shoulder into (Y/n)'s chest on her way past her.

Why did she have to be like that? Why did she have to be so crude and snarky and possessive over Jim? (Y/n) always thought when she got married that she would have a great relationship with her in-laws. And when Jim told her about his mum, (Y/n) wanted to get to know her. She wanted to know the woman who had gone to prison to protect him, but that wasn't the same woman who was walking away from her right now.

This woman was bitter and manipulative, and maybe that was because she had to toughen up when she went to prison. Maybe she really did kill her husband to protect Jim, but she was using that as an excuse to control Jim and his life and worm everything to her advantage. And she knew (Y/n) wouldn't stand for it, which made (Y/n) an obstacle in her path.

God, (Y/n) hoped the worst Karen would do would just be to spit insults at her. She could endure this for a few more weeks, it wouldn't be for long.

Jim had agreed that his mum could stay with them for a few months, but she had to go when they had the baby, preferably just before they had the baby. The house was going to be lively when they had their daughter and they would be busy.

(Y/n) couldn't be looking after her baby and dealing with Karen and her vindictive nature. And she and Jim wanted to be a family and have their home to themselves when they had the baby.

Just a little while longer, and then Karen would be living on her own.

***

"Karen?" (Y/n) rapped her knuckles on the door and gingerly leaned around to peek into the spare room. Her hands stayed clinging to the door and she bit down on her lip, trying to pluck up as much courage as she had within her to both have this conversation and stay calm.

"Yeah?" The older woman looked less than interested in a conversation with her daughter in law.

She rose a brow and nudged her glasses further up her nose while she twisted on the bed so she was looking in (Y/n)'s direction.

"Have you seen my notebook? The blue one, I use for work?"

The flicker that danced over Karen's eyes and had her lips twitching made (Y/n) press further into the door. She knew it. She felt so stupid for even asking when she knew deep down that her book wasn't anywhere to be found, because of her mother in law.

(Y/n) worked from home, she kept all of her notes in two separate notepads which were always either in her and Jim's bedroom or tucked under her arm. (Y/n) needed her blue notebook with the sparrows drawn on the cover, it was all her dates and details and facts that she had to type up and send across to her boss this week.

The last time she saw her notebook was yesterday when she had been writing in the living room. Now the book was gone, and (Y/n) knew exactly who had moved it. Jim had been at work all day yesterday and he had gone again this morning. There was no way he would of moved it when he came home and went straight for a shower before climbing into bed. He didn't go in the living room.

"No, I don't think so. Why, is it important?"

She knew it was. Karen knew it was important, if (Y/n) didn't have those notes she would have to start from scratch and it would delay her and cause her to be reprimanded by her boss.

"It- it's my work, I need that book." Her voice was unusually quiet and she could feel defeat clawing at her throat.

"Oh, well I haven't seen it."

Nodding, (Y/n) turned on her heels and walked down the hall. She wasn't standing here arguing. She was going to search the house from top to bottom and if that made her look like an idiot or stressed her out then so be it, because she needed that notepad.

The living room had already been searched. (Y/n) had moved every book and magazine, looked beneath the sofa and the cushions and the bookcase. She looked everywhere she could think of.

She made her way into the kitchen and scanned over the few papers on the table, again. She looked in the little wooden crate on the windowsil that was for important letters and bills. She looked in the messy drawer and the cupboards.

Sweat rolled down the back of her neck and adrenaline sparked in her stomach that was churning and rotating awfully. She felt like she was going to be sick. What was she going to do if she couldn't find her notes? She was going to have to work late into the night to redo everything. (Y/n) would have to rewrite her notes and then type up her essay and her notes and then she would have to edit and make sure everything was ready to send off.

Grabbing a few wrappers from the counter, (Y/n) scrunched them up in her hands and started to tidy up. She may as well tidy the house as she tore it apart looking for what she needed, something (Y/n) wasn't so sure she was going to find.

She flicked open the bin, about to toss a few bits in until something caught her eye.

A sparrow.

A flash of blue.

(Y/n) leaned down, dragging her fingers through the bin with a wince, trying not to touch last night's dinner or the cereal from this morning.

She choked on a sob that had her lips curdling like sour milk when her fingers curled around her notepad and she wrenched it out of the bin.

The book was lathered in sauce from last night. Splotches of milk painted the cover and the pages were crinkled, cracking and sticking together.

(Y/n) couldn't stop the tears falling down her face or the way her chest shuddered and jumped when she looked through the pages. All her work. All those hours, those notes, the tentative, neat handwriting. Stained. Destroyed. Ruined.

Karen had put her work in the bin. She had dumped it in the bin and threw the leftovers on top to try and hide it and keep (Y/n) from realising where all her hard work had gone.

Why did she have to do this?

"Hey baby, what're you doing?" Jim leaned against the doorway to the nursery, glancing his eyes around the room. The walls were still pale magnolia from when they bought the place and moved in last year. They hadn't decided what colour to paint the nursery yet, all they knew was that they didn't want this pale, bland colour when the baby was born.

(Y/n) was five and a half months along now so anytime soon, Jim would get ready to paint the nursery and he would start setting up the crib and units soon too.

His arms folded over his chest and his head leaned against the door while he looked down at his wife.

She was knelt on the floor, a few onesies and bibs and little trinkets surrounding her.

A fond look swarmed through Jim's eyes, right until his wife turned around. The smile faded from his lips and the warmth in his eyes turned ice cold the moment he noticed the tears streaking down (Y/n)'s face. Her eyes were overwhelmed with tears, the colours blurring together and meshing around her pupils that were as wide as saucers.

He noticed the puffy look beneath her eyes and the way her lower lip kept wobbling as she tried to draw in a proper breath.

"Hey, hey what's the matter?"

He moved before he could stop himself and he slumped down to his knees beside her, trying not to kneel on any of the clothes scattered around. What had happened while he had been at work? They had been to their scan last week and everything had been fine with the baby, so he hoped she wasn't upset or panicking about the baby.

He reached out for her hands and gently pulled them onto his lap, smoothing his thumbs over the back of her hands while he waited for her to explain so he could help.

"I'm not doing this anymore Jim." (Y/n) pulled her hands away from his touch so she could run her fingertips up and down her face. It didn't matter how many times she tried to swipe away the tears, more drenched her face and had her breath bubbling and catching in her throat.

"What, doing what? Baby what's happened?" He tried to reach out for her again but (Y/n) moved faster.

"Look."

Something twinged in (Y/n)'s chest like her heart had physically been slashed when she looked across the floor. She scrunched up the blanket in her hands and roughly tossed it at Jim, sending him leaning backwards when it hit him in the chest.

Jim's stomach pulled inwards and his lips parted when he looked down at the blanket.

It was the one (Y/n)'s grandma had knitted when she was little. The blanket was a worn shade of white with a deep blue ribbon stitched around the edging. (Y/n) had had this since she was little and she had started adding a few flowers and embroidery stitches to update it ready for when she had her baby to pass it onto.

It was ruined.

The bottom corner had either been cut or pulled and the wool was unspooling. Half the blanket had been pulled so the woven stitches were undone, leaving a tangled mess of wool attached to what was left of the blanket.

"What happened?" Jim swallowed harshly as he held up the blanket and looked it over.

It would take a skilled knitter to fix this and even if someone could fix the blanket, there would be telltale signs and stitches that showed it had been wrecked and patched back together.

This was important to (Y/n). She didn't have a lot to remember her grandma by and their baby would never know her. (Y/n) wanted to give their child something that would remind them of someone they would never know, and now it was damaged, possibly beyond repair. "I- I found it in the drawer like this."

"Maybe… maybe it got caught in the drawer-"

"It's been cut! She's cut it. Jim, you- you know what this meant to me." (Y/n) swallowed harshly, wiping her hand beneath her eyes as she took the blanket back from Jim.

She wanted to throw it across the room, unravel it completely and toss it in the bin, but she couldn't. Her touch was unnaturally gentle as she folded what was left of the blanket and ravelled the loose wool around the blanket to stop it from unravelling further.

"And where's the stuff I bought?" (Y/n) motioned around to the clothing she had set out on the floor around them and Jim took a moment to look at it all.

There was the onesies Jim had picked out. A few items Deacon had given them last week when he and Annie went through their old baby clothes they didn't need for their girls anymore. And a few things from the others at Swat who had either donated their kids old things or like Chris, had gotten a few things to surprise Jim with.

But nothing (Y/n) had bought was here.

The few teddies she had picked out. The jumpsuits and mini dresses and tights she couldn't resist from town. The bibs and socks and little things to stock up on, everything (Y/n) bought, wasn't here.

"I- I don't know, maybe I tidied them in the chest of drawers-"

"Jim, everything I got is gone. The stuff you bought, that's all here. The things Deacon donated to us, that's here. Can't you see what she's doing to me?"

Jim ran his hand up and down his face, trying to take a deep breath but he found he could barely breathe at all.

This wasn't right. This couldn't be happening. It was just a mistake.

There was no way his mum would be this spiteful and vindictive. She wouldn't toss away the things that were bought for her first- and only- grandchild. She wouldn't cut up something so important to (Y/n) and unravel it like this to hurt her. She wouldn't wreck and mess with everything to wind (Y/n) up, Karen wasn't like that.

She was his mum. She loved him, she did everything for him, she had spent years in prison because and for Jim and now she was out. She wouldn't do anything to jeopardise what she and Jim and (Y/n) had here.

"No, mum wouldn't do this."

"No, no Jimmy I'm not doing this anymore, okay? You go to work but I work from home, I'm the one dealing with your mum's tantrums and her fits of rage. She doesn't like me, she scares me Jimmy and now she's doing this to me. What if it gets worse?"

(Y/n) couldn't do this anymore.

She had spent a month living with Karen and it was too long, too frightening. She had gone too far. First she had been rude when Jim's back was turned, then she started being horrid whenever she passed (Y/n). She had thrown (Y/n)'s notebook in the bin.

Karen watched as (Y/n) screamed and cried and sat on the living room floor for hours rewriting her notes and trying to salvage what she could from her notepad. Now Karen had gone as far as to throw things away that were for their baby, and she had destroyed something that was so important to (Y/n).

This couldn't keep happening. (Y/n) couldn't carry on like this, she wasn't staying home when Karen was here. She wasn't going to keep living like this with a cruel mother in law who was out to upset her.

(Y/n) was pregnant, she couldn't be stressed and panicked and she couldn't stay with Karen when she her temper was flaring. What if Karen lashed out at her? What if she went from verbally aggressive to being physical? What would (Y/n) do then?

"I'll talk to her."

With a broken smile and a shake of her head, (Y/n) moved her hand to Jim's shoulder and got up from their position kneeling on the floor.

"Thanks." The sarcasm dripping from her tone made Jim shiver and his expression dropped completely. He watched her leave the room, doing her level best to control her breathing and calm herself down before she made herself sick.

Part of (Y/n) didn't expect Jim to go and talk to his mum straight away. She thought he would take a few minutes to calm down, maybe look around the nursery and try to prove (Y/n) wrong and find all the clothes she couldn't find. But she heard him storm out of the nursery and when she looked over her shoulder, he was aiming for the spare room where his mum was since she wasn't at work today.

(Y/n) couldn't help herself.

She took a few seconds to calm herself down and clear the tears from her face before she backtracked and shuffled along the hall. She stayed close to the wall and a few feet away from the door. She didn't want to watch, but she wanted to know what Karen would try to say to defend herself.

She wished she hadn't listened.

Jim seemed to start off strong. He walked in there with the intention of telling his mum that whatever went on while he was at work needed to stop. But Karen's words were like a knife cutting right through (Y/n)'s stomach. She moved both hands down to cradle her stomach as she coiled in on herself.

"Jimmy she's pregnant, all those hormone changes and she's always so temperamental these days. She doesn't want me here, this is her way to get rid of me but I don't wanna leave you, baby. I'm finally out, finally able to be with my little boy again."

"I know, mum. I just… I need you both to get along, you're both my family and this is upsetting (Y/n). Try and be nice to her-"

"She needs to accept that I'm staying. We're meant to be together after all the lost time, Jimmy. (Y/n)'s just emotional."

"I guess."

Moving her hand to her mouth, (Y/n) swallowed down whatever cry was desperate to claw at her throat. She wasn't doing this anymore.

If Jim couldn't have her back and stand up for her, then she wasn't going to stay here. She didn't feel safe in her own home and that wasn't fair. (Y/n) had a right to feel safe where she lived and right now she didn't. She didn't want Karen living with them in the first place, but she didn't really have a choice.

If he wasn't going to help her and Karen was going to target her, then (Y/n) wasn't staying here with them.

Karen could have what she wanted. She could have Jim to herself until he worked out what he wanted to do and who he wanted to prioritise.

They were both his family but Jim was picking Karen over (Y/n), he was believing her over his wife and (Y/n) couldn't stay and be victimised any longer.

Staying wasn't an option.

***

"She doesn't wanna talk to you."

"Chris please. Five minutes, please?"

The pleading look in Jim's eyes won Chris over, although she still looked disappointed and angry.

Her lips rolled together, her eyes narrowed and she placed her hand on her hip before slowly opening the front door to let him inside. She didn't want to let him in, but he was here, again, and he was begging her. He had called and called (Y/n) and Chris but neither of them answered and this was the fifth day and he thought he was going to go insane.

He hadn't seen his wife in five days, that was almost a week. The longest he had gone without her was three days when Swat had been low on staff and everyone had been on a big assignment. This was different.

This was (Y/n) staying with Chris because she didn't feel safe in her own home and Jim wanted to do whatever he could to change that. He wanted his wife home where she belonged, not here with her best friend to get away from him.

Jim squeezed Chris's shoulder and bypassed her to get into the living room where he could see his wife.

He bounded up to her before she got the chance to see who it was and before (Y/n) could try and get up, Jim was already plonked down on the sofa next to her. He reached out and clamped his hand down on her wrist, his touch comforting but desperate at the same time as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch of space between them.

His knees bumped into (Y/n)'s thigh and he was close enough that (Y/n) could feel each rapid breath fanning against her cheek.

She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to turn and see those puppy dog eyes that could win him whatever he wanted. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But when Jim tilted his head down and attached his lips to her shoulder, (Y/n) shivered.

She felt his hand let go of her wrist and slide round to cradle her lower back and when his other hand moved to squeeze her thigh, (Y/n) finally looked down at him. He was glued up against her side, his chest pressing into her arm, his fingers twitching against her skin like he feared she was a figment of his imagination and would fade away any moment.

"Baby…"

"Why're you here?" (Y/n) couldn't hide the pain from her voice and she couldn't stop her eyes from welling up with tears when Jim flinched against her. He squeezed her thigh tighter, shifting his hand up higher, testing the waters to see if she would throw away his touch or not.

"You shouldn't be here, you should be at home-"

"Not while she's there." (Y/n) didn't want to stay with Chris, she didn't want to impose on her friend, but Chris had more than welcomed her to stay.

She was the one who told (Y/n) she couldn't go home until Jim realised just what his mother was doing. The whole team knew how crazed Karen was becoming and they understood that (Y/n) was being targeted, she wasn't losing her mind or imagining anything or overreacting. Chris told (Y/n) to stay with her as long as she needed until things settled down and Karen was sorted out.

"Baby, come home. I've talked to mum, properly, I swear, it's sorted now."

(Y/n) wanted to believe him, she really did. She wanted to let herself sink into his touch and the way his lips were feathering across her neck, feeling her in without having to do much at all. But if Jim was just saying this to get her to come home, (Y/n) couldn't do that. She had to know that he was taking her seriously and he would listen if anything else happened.

"You didn't listen to me, Jim. She called me hormonal, and you agreed." Tears welled up in her eyes as she gripped his chin and tilted his head away from her neck so they were face to face. "I can't come home if you won't take me seriously."

"I'm looking at flats."

"What?"

His words sent shivers running up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she couldn't help but lean away from him. What on Earth did that mean? Was he truly believing his mum over her? Was this it? Had Karen well and truly got in the way of their marriage like she strived to do?

"Mum staying with us was- is, temporary. I'm trying to find her a place of her own, somewhere nearby. Then she's still close to home, but we have our own space again, just you, me and our girl."

His mum living with them had never been a permanent thing. Jim only agreed because his mum needed a place secured or else they wouldn't approve her for parole. She had to have that security and Jim couldn't let her rot inside a day longer. But he had always had the intention of helping his mum find her own place.

It wasn't healthy for her to be living with them and be so attached to Jim and he and (Y/n) needed their own space now they were extending their family. He was trying to get his mum a place of her own as soon as he could so they could all have a better, healthier relationship together.

When he shifted his hand up from (Y/n)'s thigh to trace her bump, (Y/n) couldn't help the tear that slid down her face.

He could feel her resolve melting away when he started to trace designs across her stomach with his fingertip.

Five days had started to feel like five weeks away from (Y/n) and all the team knew something had been up. Chris was the only one who knew the details, but all of them saw how tightly strung up Jim had been. He felt like he had been having withdrawel symptoms when he came home to an empty bed and he couldn't have his arms around (Y/n) or his hand on her stomach.

"Come home." Jim didn't take his hand away from her stomach, but the way his nose twitched and his lips drew to one side told (Y/n) he was one minute away from crying.

She saw a tear slither down his cheek when she nodded and that was all Jim needed to practically push her back into the sofa and steal a starved kiss from her.

She could feel his teeth grazing her lower lip and the way he smiled into the kiss as he took all the breath from her lungs, leaving her starving and lightheaded. He wanted both his girls to come home, he missed them more than any words could say and he wouldn't let this happen again.

He would listen next time.

***

A quiet, lulling hum filled the nursery as (Y/n) moved towards the window. She could faintly hear the music channel playing on the tv downstairs and it was loud enough for her to know what song was playing and to hum along to the music.

Her head ticked from side to side as she looked up at the window frame with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

They had decided on a pale shade of lilac for the nursery with a bleached white ceiling. The colour looked beautiful and when the sunlight hit the walls just right, (Y/n) could almost see sparkles twinkling off the walls. They had finished the second coat over the weekend while Jim was off and now (Y/n) was just adding a few more details.

They still had another three and a bit months left until their girl would be here, but Deacon had told them it was better to plan ahead and be prepared. According to him, the last few months would go by in a flash and they didn't want to be rushing about trying to sort everything at the last minute.

Grabbing the chair from the corner of the room, (Y/n) dragged it across and took her time climbing up.

Her fingers scrunched around the dusty white curtains that had a mixture of burnt orange, beige and bright pink flowers painted across them. She unclipped one end of the curtain pole and started feeding the curtain rings on.

Once these were up, the only things left to do in the nursery was to put up some shelves, assemble the crib and sort the changing table. Then they would be well and truly prepared.

"What have you said to Jimmy?"

A gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she wobbled, quickly regaining her balance before she toppled off the chair.

She fed the last ring onto the pole before she glanced behind her over her shoulder.

Karen didn't look happy.

The elder woman stormed into the nursery she had barely looked at since they started decorating it. If (Y/n) had thought before that Karen wasn't interested in her grandchild, she well and truly understood now. She could see the way it started to gnaw at Jim when they had been getting things ready and Karen could barely manage a smile. Whereas everyone down at Swat was more than delighted and listened intently if Jim ever talked about the baby.

"Excuse me?" (Y/n) took a deep breath to steady herself for the upcoming argument and she pressed her hand to the wall to climb down off the chair.

She had no idea what Karen was going on about and she was sure whatever it was, Karen was blowing it out of proportion. But she just had to do this now, when Jimmy was still at work. He would be coming home around about now, why couldn't she just wait until he got back so they didn't have to argue any more?

She had promised Jim she wouldn't argue or upset (Y/n) or fight with her. (Y/n) knew she wouldn't stick to it.

"He's looking at flats. He's trying to find a flat for me, he wants me to move out before the baby comes. What have you said to him? Why are you trying to get rid of me, he's my son I've sacrificed everything for Jimmy so I can be with him now. Why do you have to get in the way?"

"Karen calm down-"

"Calm down? When you're taking my son from me?!"

(Y/n) coiled her arms to her chest and took a strangled breath when Karen grabbed the nearest object and threw it her way. Thank God it happened to be one of the teddies Chris had given them, but seeing what she had thrown only riled Karen up even more.

She reached out for one of the coat hangers on top of the chest of drawers and launched it so hard and fast (Y/n) barely had time to move.

She bit back a scream when the plastic hanger collided with the edge of the windowsil and snapped on impact.

What the Hell was she doing?

"He's my husband, I'm not taking him from you. But you… you can't think that it's normal to live with us forever? We're having a baby, things are gonna change." (Y/n) held her hands out in front of her as if trying to act peaceful as going to make a difference when her mother in law was on the warpath.

"You little hustler. You're turning my son against me and I won't have it." Karen's voice heightened until she was at the point of screaming and (Y/n) winced at her pitch and tone.

She sidestepped and slumped into the wall when Karen tossed a paintbrush her way and when she threw the paint tray to the floor, (Y/n) cowered back.

She was aiming things at her. If Karen got hold of the screwdriver set or something heavy, she could aim it just right and cause (Y/n) some real damage.

"You and that bloody baby are destroying him."

Would Karen go as far as to hurt the baby? (Y/n)'s hand moved down to her stomach at the thought and she winced, feeling the baby give out a strong kick. She had no idea if Karen would try and come over to hit her or push or slap her or toss something directly at her, but she didn't want to find out.

She was scared. Karen had killed her husband. She had been so riled up and defensive over Jim, wanting to protect him that she had shot her husband in cold blood. Of course she had her reasons, she was a battered wife protecting her only son. But now, Karen was thinking of (Y/n) and the baby as a threat. A threat to Jim.

(Y/n) needed Jim to come home. She needed to go get her phone and call him to find out if he was on his way home or not. She couldn't stay here and argue with Karen who was only getting angrier by the second. Being here with her wasn't safe for (Y/n) or her unborn baby.

"You need to stop."

She kept one hand on her stomach and held the other out towards Karen, both to try and calm her down and to keep a good distance between them both.

Pushing forward, (Y/n) quickened her steps in haste and cowered down when Karen screamed. She bolted past her, giving Karen a nudge to get her out of the doorway so (Y/n) could fly past her.

Her phone was downstairs. She had to call someone. She had to get hold of Jim or Chris or even Hondo at this point, just someone that would help and not think she was overreacting or being silly. She had to keep as much distance between her and Karen as possible.

"Where are you going? You can't do this to me and Jimmy, he's my son! You hear me, he's mine."

(Y/n) couldn't help the scream that slipped past her lips when she felt a hand smashing against her shoulder. She wasn't sure whether Karen tried to punch her or grab at her, but either way it threw her off balance and had her falling into the wall that stopped her from going down on her knees.

She flung her arm out behind her, managing to scratch her nails along Karen's arm and push her back. She had to get away from her. She had to get downstairs and either get her phone or get out the house. Karen was trying to attack her.

"Get the Hell away from me!"

"Does your girl know you've invited us all round?" A wide grin spread across Luca's face as he leaned forward and grabbed Jim by the shoulders, giving him a little shake.

He pushed down on Jim, nudging the shorter man forward while Luca practically jumped up and down behind him like an excited child. It had been a while since the whole team gathered together to hang out after work, and this was the first time they would see Jim's new home.

Luca had spent almost five months living with Jim and (Y/n) two years ago in their old apartment. They had been gracious enough to put up with him for that long and let him stay and he had loved being around two of his closest friends.

"Nope, she wants to see you all though." Jim fished his keys out his pocket while Luca continued to shake him back and forth.

He could hear Chris laughing somewhere behind them and Hondo and Deacon were close by.

They had all agreed to come over for a few drinks, and Hondo and Deacon were more than willing to help Jim set up the crib he had been having trouble with over the weekend. They knew what they were doing, Hondo was good at fixing things and Deacon had four kids, he had done this before. Luca was the only one who wouldn't be so good with sorting out the furniture so he would stick to sorting the music. Chris knew what she was doing, but she was here to see (Y/n) more than to do any DIY.

"Course she does, she's missed us." Hondo grinned and shimmied his back pack higher on his shoulder as Jim finally reached the front door. They watched him make a big effort to wave his hands in front of the house, showing off with a cheesy grin before he unlocked the door.

Jim had never heard a scream quite like the one that hit his ears when he walked over the threshold.

It was so perfectly timed to when he walked inside that he thought for a moment that someone was playing some sort of prank on him. Like he had stepped on a trip wire and a fake scream sounded through a megaphone.

But he knew it was real.

He knew that scream was real, and he knew exactly who it belonged to.

The clouting thud that followed had Jim shivering and backing into Luca who in turn took a step back over the threshold. None of them knew what they had walked into. Had they interrupted a break in? Had some sort of accident happened? Had they done something by walking in at this exact time?

"No!"

"Oh Jesus- someone call 911!" Luca flapped an arm behind him, hitting any of his team that he could to make them listen while his other hand fisted Jim's shirt as if to make sure he hadn't vanished or fallen down with shock.

Jim bolted forward, feeling the team close behind him but he didn't care. He wrenched out of Luca's grip and took double strides until he was five paces up the stairs.

(Y/n) had fallen.

His left arm bashed into the bannister while his right knee bent out and punctured into the wall, wedging himself in place on the stairs so he could find his balance without falling down.

His hands were quick to find her neck, his thumbs smoothing over her jaw as he tried to be as gentle as he could to tilt her head away from the bannister. Her temple had been pressing down on the wooden beam until Jim turned her so she was facing him.

"Baby? Baby, oh come on, open your eyes for me." Words flurried past his lips before he could realise what he was saying.

His fingers pressed down into her neck and he winced, hoping he wasn't hurting her when he realised the grip he had but he couldn't let go. His whole body was shaking as he looked over his wife.

She was laid in the middle of the stairs, crumpled at an odd angle. Arms bent and stuck near her waist, legs curled awkwardly with one foot pressed against the opposite wall and the other hanging off a lower step. But she wasn't moving. She wasn't opening her eyes like Jim was telling her to. She wasn't even moving her head or acknowledging him.

"She's not waking up." Panic entwined in with Jim's words and he glanced over his shoulder, tears already streaming down his face as he begged any of his team to help him. To do something to make this better, to help his wife.

But when Jim glanced up, he wished he hadn't. He wished he never bothered lifting his head because the sight he was faced with made his stomach churn and had him gagging.

Karen.

His mum. Stood at the top of the stairs, one hand stretched out for the bannister to stabilise herself while her other hand was pressed against her mouth to cover her shock. She had tears streaming down her face and Jim realised she was shaking her head like she was trying to tell him she didn't do this. She hadn't wanted any of this to happen. But the guilt was written across her face.

The look in her watering eyes, the shock that was making her tremble back and forth like a lead. The way she was backing away from the stairs with little gasps and croaks.

She had pushed her.

When Jim heard Hondo's voice, it sounded faint and distant like his leader was calling from across the street instead of the bottom of the stairs.

Hondo's hand found Jim's shoulder and he quickly and expertly climbed over Jim and (Y/n), stepping over the entwined couple on the stairs with Luca hot on his heels. The pair of them bolted up the stairs towards Karen, both so they could stop her from trying to wander away and restrain her in case she tried to lash out at any of them.

"Do something." Jim's voice was oddly low but the desperation was clear. He spat the words with venom and he leaned into Deacon until the older man could see the fright blowing up his brown orbs.

Deacon rested his hand on Jim's shoulder and knelt beside him, leaning around to try and reach out for (Y/n). He pressed his hand to her neck to check her pulse before he gently peeled back her eyelid, but her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Only allowing them to see the whites of her eyes with prominent veins crawling across them.

"Chris we need that ambulance." He glanced at the bottom of the stairs towards Chris. She had one hand tangled in her hair, a determined look on her face and tears in her eyes. Deacon couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Chris cry. "We can't leave her here like this, we need to get her down in the recovery position. Okay?"

He didn't want to wait for an ambulance with (Y/n) in this position, she was crumpled up like a piece of paper. It was going to hurt and if she had any internal injuries, lying like this was going to make them worse.

Deacon moved to try and hold her legs but Jim was moving off a different schedule.

He was already easing (Y/n)'s head onto his shoulder and curving her arms around her waist to keep them out the way so he could lift her up. Biting his lip, Deacon helped ease (Y/n)'s legs over Jim's arm and kept a hand on Jim's back to support him standing up on the stairs.

They walked backwards, slowly easing down the stairs until they were safely in the hallway and Deacon held the back of (Y/n)'s head and her waist to help lower her down.

"Airways are clear and open, breathing is good. Pulse is high… I can't tell if she's broken anything." Deacon tilted (Y/n)'s head down just in case she got a nosebleed or she started to throw up.

He tried to check her over but he couldn't see any obvious breaks or feel any dislocations. That didn't mean her ribs weren't broken or that she didn't have any internal injuries. They needed the paramedics here. Now.

"Two minutes," Chris gripped Jim's shoulder and gave him a little shake. She had dispatch on the line. They were already relocating an ambulance and a squad car down to them. This was an emergency and they would have help soon. Chris would ring Captain Cortez and tell her the situation, they would get hold of Karen's parole officer and sort this out for Jim so he could go with (Y/n).

"What have I done?"

"Street, you couldn't-"

"S-she told me. She told me she wasn't safe here, and I- I didn't- I never… God, what have I done?"

She told him she didn't feel safe with his mum. She told him everything his mum had done and he didn't believe her. He wanted to see the best in his mum, he wanted the family he hadn't had since he was eleven. He wanted a proper, loving, caring mum in his life, not one that sent him letters from behind a secured facility. He wanted his mum to get along with his wife and be involved in her granddaughter's life.

This wasn't how it was supposed to work. This wasn't the family Jim had tried to build. He hadn't kept his family safe. He hadn't listened to (Y/n) and now both his girls were in danger.

Why didn't he listen?

#imagine #swat cbs #swat #swat luca #hondo harrelson #david deacon kay #jim street #jim x reader #jim street x reader #jim street x fem!reader #swat x reader #jim street imagine #jim street fluff

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violentdeliiights · 1 month ago

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my baby

eek this is my first time properly writing for ghost gasp

this was supposed to just be a quick little drabble but i kind of got into the writing mood and couldn’t stop

also disclaimer i have never first hand played the games, but i’ve watched friends and family play them so any inaccuracies please ignore!

cw: details of car accident, hospitals, angst, female reader (i think that’s all pls let me know if there are others)

word count: 1.8k - not proofread, ignore any mistakes thank youuu

Simon could feel something was wrong.

Something in his bones, a rippling wave of nausea, a shift in the breeze on the back of his neck.

The other lads had always made a joke of his seemingly supernatural levels of superstition, how he was able to almost always accurately predict when or if something was going to go wrong.

Information had been from a dodgy source? Simon had guessed from the way Gaz had dropped his mug of coffee that morning.

One of their safe houses was infiltrated? Yeah, he’d known something was coming after Soap had stubbed his little toe getting out of bed and they’d heard the Scot’s high-pitched swearing from the mess hall.

They were being ambushed whilst on a seemingly harmless mission? You guessed it, Lt. Simon Riley had warned them in the helo the day before that Price’s favourite hat going missing was a sign.

One thing about Simon- he never, ever ignored his intuition.

So the forlorn look on Price’s face as he approached Simon’s hulking frame in the gym caused his stomach to drop. He’d been stood supervising Gaz and Soap training the newbies when that god awful sensation washed over him- and now he could tell Price was going to confirm that feeling.

Turning to face the Captain when he reached his side, Simon nodded out of respect, “Cap’n”.

The sigh that he received in response only made his stomach plummet further.

“Simon,”

Price never called him by his first name. Only ever Lieutenant or Ghost.

Something was really wrong.

“…it’s your girl. She’s in a bad way.”

✯ ✯ ✯

Unlike your husband, you’d never been one for superstition. All those things online about a woman’s intuition made you feel slightly out of the loop- you don’t think you’d ever predicted something bad before it happened.

In some ways you were thankful; you never lived with the lingering sense of dread and suspicion that Simon seemed to. You’d never woken up filled with anxiety over something that was a possibility.

However, in some ways, it was a curse. Every bad thing that had ever happened to you or your loved ones seemed to blindside you. Breakups, whilst sometimes predictable, had always gutted you in a deep, physical way. Betrayal, death, accidents, injuries. They all seemed to hit you deeper when you never saw them coming.

Being stabbed in the back hurts worse when you can’t see the knife coming.

That was why that morning had felt like just another Thursday. Your normal day to go food shopping, knowing the supermarket would be relatively quiet and that you would need to stock up for the weekend when Simon tended to snack like nobody’s business.

You had just packed up the car with the bags, pulling out of the car park and onto the large roundabout the led onto the main road.

Just like every other time you’d made the trip.

Only, those other times didn’t include a huge Land Rover who hadn’t seen you in your tiny Volkswagen Beetle- the one your husband had bought you when you’d told him it was your dream car as a little girl.

The Rover pulled out just as you passed him, driving head first into the passenger’s side and sending your car spinning, careening out of control and straight into a sign post on the other side of the road, tipping the car onto its side.

The accident had happened at such a speed that you hadn’t even mentally understood what was happening before your eyes closed involuntarily, shards of glass from the smashed windshield and doors littering your skin, your chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, cuts all over your body and your seatbelt digging painfully into you.

Your last thought before your body shut down was the face of the man you loved.

✯ ✯ ✯

Simon had never driven as fast in his life.

He was well over the speed limit, his foot on the accelerator almost parallel to the floor.

The hour drive to the hospital from the base took him 25 minutes.

He hadn’t even bothered with a response when Price had informed him of which hospital you were in, Gaz and Soap only looking up from their training when they heard the door slam after him, the gym feeling slightly colder than it had minutes prior.

He had no doubt that the rest of the task force wouldn’t be far behind him: you had become somewhat of a staple around the base over the years, bringing the boys hot meals, helping with odd jobs, making sure they were all taking care of themselves.

Sometimes, Soap would come to you with his issues instead of Ghost- that was when you knew your husbands colleagues were more than just colleagues. You had been welcomed into their little dysfunctional family.

Throwing his car into the first parking space he found, Simon stormed into the reception area, his aura more that of Ghost than Simon with the palpable anger and tension radiating off of him. The elderly receptionist seemed to cower in his shadow looming over the desk, ignoring the funny and fearful looks he got from the rest of the waiting area as he barked out your name.

“R-room 414, pet,” He made a mental note to thank the woman a bit more softly and charged his way down the hall to the stairwell. The lift would only hinder him and he knew fine well he would run up a million flights of stairs to get to you. Hell, he’d scale Everest blindfolded. Wrangle the moon with a rope. Anything. For you.

After reaching the fourth floor, he flung the door stairwell door open and began his search for you, scouring each and every door number until he found it

Despite his earlier efforts to get to you as quickly as possible, he felt himself take a shuddering breath before he dared to enter- he had no idea what he was walking into. The only information Price had been given was that you’d been hospitalised a handful of hours ago. It was harder to reach a next of kin who worked on a military base, apparently.

When his eyes landed on you in that hospital bed, the only thing keeping his legs from giving way beneath him was the thought of getting to you.

Your usually glowing face was pale and sunken. Your lovely rosy cheeks he loved to pepper with kisses were hidden beneath tubes and cuts. A bandage wrapped around your head skewed your hair from his sight. The feeling of seeing you lying there, helpless, relying on machines to keep you going was so much worse than any bad intuition he’d ever felt before.

He would swap places with you in a heartbeat. No physical pain would ever compare with the utter devastation he was experiencing. His heart was no longer in his own chest, but lying battered and bruised in a hospital bed attached to machines.

His large hands swept delicately over the side of your head, “My baby,” his voice wavered, heavy with fear, “My sweet girl. What happened to you, baby?”

The taste of salt on his lips was his only sign that he was crying.

Big, bad, Lieutenant Simon Riley. Ghost. His name drove terror into the hearts of men across the globe.

Reduced to tears at the sight of you.

His knees hit the floor by your bedside, both of his hands delicately cupping your bruised face, “Come back to me, baby. You promised forever, yeah? I’m holding you to that,” A quiet sob ripped from his throat before he could control it, pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek and moving to bury his head in your stomach to muffle any more sobs.

Simon had no idea how long he had been sat slumped over you, still on his knees yet not willing to leave your side for more than a second to grab a chair. He would never let you out of sight again. Judging by the fact that the sky was significantly darker by the time he heard the door open, he could tell he’d been here for a while. Jerking his slumped head up to the door, he left out a silent breath of relief when a familiar face appeared with a sorrowful smile.

“Hey, Si. How’s our bonnie lass?” To Soap, you had been their girl since the moment Simon had introduced you to the group. His best friend- second only to your husband.

When Simon said nothing, only looked at him in silent despair and flickered his eyes back to you, Soap pushed open the door and revealed the other two men stood patiently behind him. Filtering into the room, both Gaz and Price removed their hats in respect as the three of them came to stand by your bedside but Simon couldn’t remove his eyes from you. His baby. His sweet, funny, intelligent girl.

“Hope you don’t mind, LT- we found ‘er doctor a bit ago, asked ‘im what happened, thought we’d give you some space,” Price’s voice had never been so soft, so cautious not to disturb the sullen atmosphere of the room, “Said she’d been in a car accident. Some idiot had pulled out on her, thankfully on the passenger side so she avoided the brunt of it,”

“They’ve said to let her rest, should hopefully come round in a bit, but she’s gonna be sore for a while,” Gaz finished Price’s explanation as gently as he could, knowing his LT’s tendency to become protective and hostile at the flip of a switch.

“She’ll be just fine, Si. Just needs her beauty sleep.” Even Soap’s usual humour couldn’t calm Simon. Someone had done this to you. You were in her because of the careless mistake of someone else.

He wouldn’t leave your side. Never again.

✯ ✯ ✯

Price had managed to coax Ghost into a chair before they’d left to return to base, hoping to save his knees and back but allowing him to stay with you.

Simon had resumed his previous place of laying his head gently on your stomach, clutching the hand closest to him in both of his.

At some point, the utter terror he had been feeling since the minute he saw Price’s face that afternoon caught up with him and he had passed out, still clutching your hand.

The feeling of gentle fingers weaving into his hair was what stirred Simon from a dreamless sleep, confusedly lifting his head to see you looking down at him with a pained smile when you caught sight of his red-rimmed eyes. The only time you’d seen your husband shed a tear was at your wedding.

His mouth dropped open slightly as he took in your eyes. Your beautiful, open, awake eyes. He’d never take those eyes for granted ever again.

“My baby.”

#fanfiction #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #x reader

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monstermaniawrites · 4 months ago

Text

Lost On You. Liam Mairi

TW!! Smut, Oral (M and F Receiving) reader has undisclosed scars on her legs, cockwarming,squirting, creampieing Minor minor angst, Not canon

Read at your own risk.

I do not own fourth wing it belongs to Rebecca Yarros.

This is my first work here

YN POV

It’s dark when we arrive. The cover of night and the storm that has freshly passed leaves the air smelling of salt and rain as the waves of the ocean lap at the shoreline far below the cliff edge.

“Something the matter?” a voice breaks off from the throng behind me, I don’t turn to see who it is though, eyes trained on the gorgeous display of stars. I never did night missions and this was my first. I pat the strong blue scaled foreleg of Durontei as I turn to look at the approaching rider. I raise my eyebrows in surprise when Liam stands there, his face flushed and a wineskin clasped in one hand. They must be celebrating then.

“That was fast” I quip, arms wrapped around my midsection as Durontei curls her scorpion tail around me with an obvious protectiveness. I glance up at her, watching her blink her golden eyes at Liam.

‘He’s not going to hurt me, you know.’

‘He has something to discuss with you.’ is all she says back as Deigh strides forward, swordtail swinging back and forth as he passes me and nudges his nose against Duronteis. Her tail unwinds from around me as she follows her mate and soon it’s just Liam and I standing alone on the cliff edge.

“So what do you want to talk about?” I swallow around the lump in my throat, hands tightening on my forearms as he takes a few steps closer. I can feel the anxiety radiating off of him as he watches me. I bend my knees subconsciously, stretching and keeping myself from tensing too much. Violet and I are too alike and it scares me sometimes. Especially because no one else knows. It’s the only reason no one treats me as fragile, not quite like everyone else does.

“Is it that obvious?” he asks almost breathlessly as he runs a hand through his hair. I tug on the band attached to my sleeve. It looped around my middle finger and kept the fabric from riding up.

“We took out that group of wyvern and successfully killed the venin controlling them.” he starts and I nod, watching as he attaches the wineskin to his belt before taking another step forward.

“There was a possibility of losing you today and that honestly scares the hell out of me.” His usually bright blue eyes are dark with emotion as he looks away from my eyes. My pulse jumps and my cheeks go warm as he steps closer again, now only about five feet away. I don’t move, too tense to move from my spot as he gets closer.

“I know we haven’t been able to see each other as often with me always being around Violet but I want you to know that you’re still my friend,” the word ‘friend’ makes my stomach knot and sink like a dead weight. I nod and attempt to clear my throat as I pull my shields tight around me. The door of my mothers front door locked tight to keep out Durontei’s thoughts as well as the surprising new link I have to Liam. I keep that tether of soft blue light tucked away from me, not wanting him to feel just how painful the word is.

“Thank you Liam. I appreciate that.” I lie through my teeth, clenching my jaw and praying that he doesn’t see through it. I can’t bring myself to look at him as I turn and start walking.

“Hey- where are you going?” he asks from behind me, confusion pulling at his speech and I bite back the sob that threatens to break from me as I wave a hand absently over my shoulder, tears streaking hot lines down my face. “Off to celebrate.”

Liam

I watch her back as she walks away, my grip tightening on my leg as I watch her walk away. She’s limping slightly and her shoulders are shifting in jerky motions. I don’t call after her, giving her some space as she disappears into the throng of tents spread out along the tunnel walls, walking deeper into the cave.

“What happened to confessing your feelings?” Xaden asks as he appears out of the shadows to my right and I surprisingly don’t react, unbothered by the appearance of my closest friend.

“I don’t know,” I start, running a hand through my hair and looking up at him as he stands beside me, arms crossed and dark eyes watching me expectantly.

“I froze, I didn’t know what to say.” I grit and he fucking rolls his eyes at me.

“Say what you think, if you can’t say it out loud tell her to through your bond.” my eyebrows jump up in surprise and he shakes his head.

“How do you-” “-also a part of a mated pair remember?” he cuts me off and gestures off to where Violet stands talking with our friends. Suddenly a lot of their behavior makes sense. The silent staring contests, knowing info as it’s being given.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised.” I scratch my rebellion relic absentmindedly as I glance off in the direction she had walked off. The thought of her hair having been pulled back away from her face, lines around her eyes and across her nose from her flight goggles made it impossible not to warm me.

“Do you feel this way about Violet?” I ask quietly and he pauses and watches me as I clench my fist against my flight leathers above my heart.

“Like you can’t breathe when she’s not right next to you?” Xaden looks down at the ground and adjusts his stand. I’ve known him long enough to know his tells.

“Yes” is a simple word but it shows how vulnerable he is when it comes to Violet.

“And do you think it’s worth telling her how you feel?” I ask and he looks at me again.

“I think it’s worth showing her if I can’t tell her.” He takes the final step closer to me, clapping a palm against my back before walking back towards Violet. I turn instead and walk into the crowd of tents and head in the direction of hers. How do I show her? Consensually without her kicking my ass at least. Heat flashes down my spine suddenly, hot pulsing need twists my stomach and I have to stagger between tents and fires to get to the cave wall. It’s rough and cold under my palm and I rest my forehead against it as another wave of heat washes over me. I squeeze my eyes shut as I pull at the neck of my leathers, heat building and making sweat slick my skin.

“Liam?” I turn at the sound of a new voice and nearly vomit when Violet stands in front of me.

“Oh shit are you-” she stops short when she looks me over and I look down when I see her lips curve up into a smirk. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head when I see the hard on currently stretching the fabric of my clothes.

“Shit! Violet, I don't know what's going on!” I whisper yell, turning quickly and she snickers behind me.

“Liam, it seems like Deigh and his mate are getting busy” she snorts and the heat under my skin flares bright. If Deigh and Durontei are doing what she’s implying then that means…..

I swallow hard and fight to control my aching body as she steps to the side.

“I saw her go into her tent a few minutes ago.” She gestures in the direction of the back of the cave and I don’t waste a second before bolting. If her dragon’s currently coupling with his then she could be just as affected by them as I am. I feel her down the bond, the gentle throbbing of our bond draws me towards her. I weave between tents and people, trying to keep my erection under control until I get to her. Another wave of heat nearly takes me to my knees as I stagger and shake my head.

As soon as my knees stop wobbling I try my best to straighten when I feel that heat simmering down our bond from her and I nearly come undone on the spot. I see the faint glow of a lantern through the fabric of the tent, in the faint flicker I see shadows moving and I bite back the groan that builds at the base of my throat.

I stand in front of the fabric that makes up the only barrier separating me from her. I breathe deeply and slowly before speaking, looking up at the glittering top of the cave.

“Hello? It’s Liam,” I hear something clatter and the shadow moves before the fabric of the door shifts and unbound hair hangs around a flushed face. Her lips are parted as she pants, wide eyes staring at me in obvious panic and surprise. She had changed out of her leathers and into a loose long sleeved shirt that cut a V down the center of her chest, a leather cord woven through it. A long dark skirt obscured her legs from me and I can’t help the image I’ve thought of before from flashing through my head.

“What can I do for you Li?” she asks me, her eyes still wide and I swallow hard, mouth dry as I suddenly am at a loss for words.

“Can I come in?” I ask after what feels like forever and nearly groan when she licks her bottom lip. Her pink tongue darting out and wetting her lips. “Yeah of course” She smiles at me and steps to the side to let me in. The first thing I notice is the smell of her that engulfs me. Soft and sweet and so uniquely her. A mat and a few blankets and pillows from the supply carts are spread about on the floor while her pack sits beside the entrance of the tent. I sit down on the blanket to the left and pull my boots off and set them to the side. She follows, hiking up her skirt to expose the scarred skin of her thighs and calves. I breathe through my nose and close my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself.

When I open my eyes she’s sitting beside me, her back to the entrance of the tent. Her knees are pulled to the side while she rests her hands in her lap.

YN POV

I fight the urge to lean into his warmth as I sit next to him, the urge to press my hands between my thighs to relieve some of the tension I’m feeling due to our dragons is strong but I don’t give in. I keep them in my lap as I sweat and try not to pant like a dog in heat as the man I’m desperately in love with sits beside me.

“So what did you want to talk-” I stop short and nearly topple over as a wave of heat flashes me from head to toe, warmth making my stomach tingle and my cunt throb as every brush of the fabric of my shirt touches my sensitive skin.

“Fuck” He groans, hunching and holding his stomach as he pants in front of me. I keep from reaching out and touching the pretty blonde locks of hair that are sweat slicked to his forehead and cheeks.

“I want you” He blurts and I still, I don’t even breathe as I process the words and he looks up. His pretty eyes watch me with such softness and lust that it makes me dizzy.

“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life and it scares the shit out of me. I almost lost you and I realized that if I didn’t tell you, that if I was too much of a coward to do that then how am I worthy of you?” He runs a hand through his hair and my heart thunders in my chest as he looks at his rebellion relic.

“I’m cursed. I’m the son of a traitor and I have a lot of secrets,” he keeps going but he reaches out and takes my right hand. His skin is warm and rough against mine, the shine of the mark on his skin reflects off the candle light as he sits up on his knees and looks down at me, determination in his eyes as he gently cups my face with his free hand.

“Nothing can keep me from you. I’ve been in love with you since before Threshing and I’ll be damned if I didn’t at least tell you.” he looks so focused as I look up at him. His mouth pulls into a soft smile, dimple becoming visible on his cheek.

I open my mouth to respond but I gasp out instead as a shock of pleasure shoots down my spine. I grip his hand with one of mine and the other flies to his hip, holding on for stability as he curls in towards me at the same moment. I shake as my nipples pebble and brush against the fabric of the shirt. I swallow the saliva that’s pooling in my mouth as I fight to regain my composure.

“Fuck” he bites out, head dropping so that his mouth is pressed into the crown of my head, his warm breathing making my scalp tingle. I scratch my nails across the leathers and take a deep breath through my nose, cracking my eyes open and fighting the urge to moan at the tent in his pants.

“Are you okay?” he whispers against my hair and I nod shakily. The hand cupping my face squeezes my jaw and I part my lips, panting through my mouth as he pulls away and looks down at me with pupils blown wide, nearly swallowing the blue I love so much. His cheeks are flushed as I look him over, taking him in and soaking in the heat coming off him.

“I want you” I whisper and he goes very still.

“I feel barely worthy of you but here you are, bonded to me like our dragons are bonded to one another and you’re confessing your feelings for me. This is not quite how I was expecting this evening to go” I snort softly as my lips tilt up slightly. His eyes go soft and he leans down, pressing his mouth to mine and I don’t fight, closing my eyes and losing myself to the feeling of him as he holds my face close to his. He tastes like liquor and chocolate and when his tongue gently touches my bottom lip I eagerly part my lips for him. He moans deep into my mouth and tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss as his tongue slicks against mine.

That heat builds and builds all on its own now, his hands cupping my face while I hook my fingers into the waistband of his pants.

“Been wanting to kiss you for so long” he murmurs against my mouth, pulling away only for a moment to tug at the leathers and I waste no time helping him undo the ties and clasps.

Once he’s down to the black long sleeved shirt he wears underneath I can’t keep from sliding my hands under the warm fabric and allow my fingertips to trail up his stomach and abs.

He lets out a choked groan and slips a hand into the hair at the base of my neck and squeezes so that my neck arches to look up at him.

“Careful pretty girl,” he warns, sliding a hand down the side of my neck and under the neckline of my shirt. His large warm palm slides down my spine, his face nearing mine as his hand meets the small of my back and then he’s kissing me again and pulling me up against him, hooking an arm under my legs and laying me flat. I reach up, hands still under his shirt and wrap my arms around his neck and look down at the perfect muscles of his chest and stomach and then to the trail of blonde hair that leads down his navel.

“I want this off” I murmur against his mouth and he doesn’t hesitate in leaning back and pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the side. His chest is slick with sweat and the curling tail of his bond relic to Deigh disappears under his pants.

“Your turn” he grabs the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms and arch my back as he pulls the clothing from my body.

I shiver as the cool air touches my skin and Liam moans deep in his throat, my thighs clenching at the sound to apply some pressure.

“You’re so fucking pretty” He growls against the skin of my cheek as he trails his lips down the exposed expanse of skin.

“I’ve never seen your relic before” he runs a hand down the curve of my right side and I fight the shiver that crosses my skin, his warm fingers tracing the path of Durontei’s wings underneath my breasts, her head hovering over my belly button.

“Absolutely fucking gorgeous” he sounds absolutely wrecked when he says it and I shiver as his eyes take in my peaked nipples before he’s sucking one into his mouth. I gasp, wrapping an arm around his head and lacing my fingers in his hair as I rest my cheek on the side of his head, panting directly into his ear as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive skin of my chest.

Liam POV

I nearly come in my pants at the sound of her breathy little gasps. She knows exactly what she’s doing as I run my hands up her spine, pushing her back into an arch, her chest pressing up into my face. her cheek is pressed against the side of my head as I used the tip of my tongue to spell her name over and over across the sensitive flesh before swapping to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment.

“Liam please!” She whimpers into the shell of my ear, her lips brushing against me with each word. She’s flushed and panting, her fingers still curled into my hair as I look at the purple marks I left around her relic. I look down at the waistband of her skirt and then I grab the fabric by her knee and pull it up. She has two sheaths, one on each thigh and each armed with two knives each. Gods she’s so fucking sexy.

“Gods you’re so fucking beautiful” I tell her and she darts her eyes away bashfully but I don’t let that go, grabbing her chin gently and pulling her to look at me.

“Lemme taste you pretty girl, please?” another surge of heat flares in my spine and she gasps at the same time as my cock throbs in time with my heartbeat.

“Thank gods” I groan as I shove the fabric up to bunch around her hips and the sight before me absolutely undoes me. I shake as I see that she’s already bare underneath her skirt, leaving her gorgeous and on display. Her slick is smeared on the insides of her thighs, her cunt swollen and shiny as she tries to close her legs but I don’t let her. Holding her ankles apart and she whines.

“Were you touching yourself before I got here?” I murmur lowly and she stills, her cheeks ruddy and her eyes blinking up at me wetly.

“Fuck you where werent you” I throw my head back and swallow, hand running over my face as she gasps softly. I jump at the sudden feeling of her smaller hand brushing up my inner thigh towards my still throbbing hard on. I flush as I see the dark fabric and register the heavy wet feeling that surrounds my cock as she looks at the spot. I swallow down the embarrassment at the look of pure hunger in her eyes. She bites her plush bottom lip and then grips my hip with a hand and looks up at me.

“Was this because of me?” She whispers and I shudder as she licks her lips again and I nod slowly, gently I grab her hand, dragging it to the bulge in my pants. I hiss at the contact, still sensitive as I squeeze her hand around me softly.

“All of this is because of you” I tell her and move her hand over me. I bit down on my lip, fighting the urge to moan as I hear footsteps pass the tent. I press the back of my hand against my mouth as she leans forward and mouths at the cum soaked fabric of my pants, her warm tongue soaking the fabric even more as I throw my head back resisting the urge to just grab and fuck her.

“Wanna taste you Li, please.” She practically whines as she nuzzles my bulge again and I’m quick to unbuckle the belt and shove my pants down my thighs, my boxers following quickly after. The cool air against my cock makes me pant as I feel every part of my body tense. I look down at her spread out in front of me, propped up on her elbows and gazing at me from under her lashes as I stand and finish taking my clothes off, standing naked in front of her before I kneel in front of her again.

“Come here beautiful” I hold my hand out to her, tracing my fingers over her calf and ankle, marveling at the thin silver lines cut into her skin from her past.

I grip her ankle and press a kiss to the side of her foot before moving up her ankle and back up her calf. I make it past her knee and she whines, hands combing through my hair and tugging me to look at her.

“Wanted to taste you first” She’s fucking pouting at me as I look up from my spot, lips hovering over her thigh as I throw her leg over my shoulder.

“But baby I wanna take care of you.” I murmur, eyes never leaving hers as I brush my lips over her inner thigh, the skin prickling with gooseflesh as I breathe deeply. The scent of her makes me want to bury myself here forever. I could die happily between her legs.

“But-” I cut her off before she can get much further, using the flat of my tongue to lick the slick leaking from her pretty cunt, tasting her with a moan. She squeaks out and snaps her legs shut, throwing her head back. I wrap my arms around her thighs, humming into her warmth as I lick over the swollen bud above her center.

“Fuck Liam just like that!” She squeals and arches her back and I swirl my tongue around her clit, flicking it up and down as she shakes, squeezing her thighs tight around my head, my hearing being muffled by the strong muscles.

I wedge a hand under the small of her back while I use my middle and ring finger to circle her entrance before pressing them inside. She's tight and warm and pulsing around my fingers. The harder I lick the more she shakes. I’m kneeling over her at this point, her body folded in half for me as her hands hold my face tight against her. I don’t stop moving my tongue, don’t stop as she squeals and starts to push my head away.

“Liam please! Too much! Too much!” despite her words she digs her heels into my shoulders, holding me against her as she scratches her nails into my shoulders.

She’s close, I can feel it as she begins to spasm and I close my eyes sucking her clit into my mouth at the same time as I smack a hand over her mouth gently, her lips parting under my palm as she cums hard against my face. The gush of wetness floods my mouth and coats my chin as she spasms under my hold, her hands gripping the wrist of the hand covering her mouth.

Slowly I pull my hand back and unwind her legs from my head, my ears ringing slightly as I sit back on my heels and brush the hair out of my face with my damp hand. I watch her eyes flutter as I suck her juice soaked fingers into my mouth, sucking as much of her taste from my skin as I can.

YN POV

I lay in absolute bliss for a moment, slowly regaining the feeling in my fingers and toes first. I’ve never came that hard before in my life and he’s not even fucked me yet.

“How are you feeling?” he asks me, his voice hoarse as he wipes my slick from his chin. I flush warm as I let my eyes roam over his fucked out expression to the flush thats spread from his neck down his chest, my scratch marks line his shoulders and a few are even scabbing. He’s breathing heavily and I can’t help but look at the bobbing length of him in front of my face. I watch him take his fingers into his mouth and the way his eyes close in bliss. I don’t miss the way his cock jumps at the same time as he licks slick from his top lip. I unclip my sheaths and let them fall, my skirt quick to follow so that I’m laying naked under him.

His eyes open and watch me as I shakily shift to sit up on my knees, his hand extending to my waist to help steady me. I rest a hand on his chest, the other settling on his hip as I lean closer to him. I look up at him, eyes moving from those beautiful blues to his swollen lips.

“Let me take care of you?” I whisper against his mouth, his other hand grabbing my hair and holding me close, kissing me hard.

“Whatever you want it’s yours” he promises as I pull back and sit on my heels, gesturing for him to stand. Once he does I take his hand and pull him closer until he stands in front of me. He watches as I take his length in my hand, more long than girthy but he has a beautiful curve and he throbs in my palm, a prominent vein runs along the side and I slowly trace my thumb over it. He exhales a shaky moan but doesn’t look away as I take the swollen pink tip between my lips and lap up the pre that leaks onto my tongue. I feel his hand comb through my hair, pushing the hair away from my face and holding it in a loose fist at the back of my skull.

I begin to bob my head, hands settling on his thighs as saliva pools and drips in globs onto his thighs and my chest. With each thrust into my mouth I take him deeper and deeper, gagging when he touches the back of my throat.

“Fuck pretty girl.”

“That feels so fucking good”

“Don’t stop- please gorgeous”

“Gods look how good you look sucking my cock”

With every filthy word the more enthusiastic I become. I don’t relent until my nose is pressed into the patch of blonde hair at the base of his cock, his breathing ragged and deep as his thighs shake.

“I can feel you swallowing me down- barely even gagging look at you”

I bob my head faster and faster, letting him hold tight to my head and thrust his hips into my mouth.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m close pretty girl”

“Where do you want it?”

“Your face? Your tits? Or do you want my cum on that pretty tongue?”

At his last words I swallow him down as deep as I can, sticking my tongue out as far as I can and he throws his head back, growling low in his throat as he snaps his hips forward. I hold onto his thighs and breathe when I can, my throat will be aching after this but I don’t care. If I’m making him feel this good then I don’t care what it does to me as long as I can see the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his chest flushes.

“Cumming cumming cummingggggggg” He moans, hips jolting lightly as warmth fills my throat, I fight back from gagging and swallow every drop he gives me.

When I’m sure I’ve sucked him dry I attempt to pull back but he keeps a hand firmly on the back of my head, his cock has only softened slightly, his eyes sparkle as I look up at him in confusion.

“You just look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, just wanted to look at this sight a little longer” my belly warms at his words, his fingers carding through my hair as I lean my cheek against his thigh.

After a moment he slowly tugs my head back until his cock falls from my mouth wetly.

“How are you feeling?” He kneels in front of me and grabs my waterskin and hands it to me. I smile in thanks and take a few deep sips before handing it back and waiting until after he’s finished drinking before I move a little closer.

I let my eyes roam over his perfect body and the sharp curves of his jaw and the strong corded muscle in his arms and chest that flex under my touch. I trace my fingers over the bare skin of his shoulder and feel that warmth in my belly spread further through me, my blood warming as his eyes roam over me as well.

“What are you thinking?” he asks me softly, hand coming to gently trace my side before a finger circles my nipple, drawing a shaky breath from my lips.

“Fuck me” I don’t look away from him as the soft look in his eyes shifts to something more hungry, territorial.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?” his voice drops a few octaves as he watches my mouth, fingers tugging at my nipples now. I wince and hiss at the sharp pain from the tugging but it only proves to make them more sensitive when he draws his fingers delicately over the swollen skin.

“I’m not gonna do it unless you tell me” he growls and I narrow my eyes on him.

“I just did-” the words are barely out when he’s grabbing me by the throat and pulling me close to him. He's strong and holding my throat tight enough to keep me in place but not enough to cut off my airflow.

“Are you giving me attitude?” His words are calmly deceptive as he narrows his own eyes at me and I can’t hide the way I clench my thighs in arousal because holy shit, he’s sexy when he's putting me in my place.

“If I am?” I ask slowly and he raises an eyebrow at me, lips narrowing into a straight line as he tilts his head.

“Then I can’t fuck you baby. Only good girls get cock.” He murmurs to me and my lips part in shock. No way, he wouldn’t.

“But-” “Come on pretty girl, be good for me and I’ll fill you up nicely for the rest of the night. You just need to ask politely” his smile is all sin as I snap my mouth closed and furrow my eyebrows.

I see movement somewhere below me and when I glance down I can’t help but stagger. He’s got a hand wrapped around his hard and leaking cock now standing at attention all over again as his eyes roam over me.

Liam POV

I watch her eyes as the cogs turn in her head. I touch myself, relieving some of the pressure as she watches. And then, she’s dropping back down to her knees on the blankets and lays down on her back, hair spread around her head like a halo. She spreads her legs so I can see the dripping slit practically calling me to it. She cups her breasts with her hands and I can’t help but take in the gorgeous pictures she’s putting on display for me.

“Please Liam, need you to fill me up so badly. Only you” She bites her lip and I can’t resist, can’t hold my composure as I fall onto her, catching myself as my hands hit the ground on either side of her head and she looks up at me with needy eyes.

“I love you” the way her eyes soften when she says it makes my heart soar and affection flares as I gently brush my lips across her cheeks, brushing the loose hair from her face.

“I love you” I whisper back and kiss her gently, then kiss both her cheeks and over the side of her neck. I hike her thighs up around my waist as I collect some of the slick from her cunt before smearing it over my cock.

I gently press the tip of my cock against her entrance, the warm wetness of her begging for me. I gently take one of her hands in mine, our fingers laced together as I press my hips forward. She’s so tight that I have to move slowly enough not to cum right then as she arches her back and moans. I lean over her quickly and press my mouth to hers. Her free arm comes up and wraps around my neck as she pants against my mouth. Once I’ve bottomed out I hold still, waiting the agonizing seconds until I can move.

I kiss over her face gently before pulling back slightly and then pushing back in. pleasure flares through me and she bites down on her lip as I slowly build a rhythm.

“Gods look at you taking me so well” I coo and lower myself over her, face tucking into the croak of her neck and breathing her in as I pick up the pace.

“Liam please- fuck you’re filling me so good” she scratches into my back, nails sinking deep and I know I’ll have fresh scars in the morning. Heat builds at the base of my spine as I sit back up and lean back on my heels and pull her half onto my lap, arching her back and I press my palm against her abdomen moaning low, just for her as I feel the quick press of my cockhead against my palm through the soft skin of her navel.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ve got you I promise.” I grit out softly, the sound of wet skin slapping together and her soft moans fill the tent as she tightens around me until I can barely move.

“I’m gonna cum Li- Please I’m gonna cum” at her words I look down and meet her fucked out expression, her mouth hanging open and her wet pink tongue on display as I lean down and spit into her open mouth.

She arches and keens as she goes tight around me wetness coats my cock and sprays against my abdomen, soaking the blankets as she shakes. I thrust one, two, three more times before I pressed into her deep, my face buried in her chest as I filled her with my cum. I breathe her in and keep my arms wrapped around her as we both breathe in the quiet of her tent.

“Liam” she calls my name softly and I look down at her. She’s so soft beneath me and I can’t believe I get to hold her as she brushes her fingers over my cheek.

“I love you” She whispers and I lean into her touch, soaking in her warmth. “I love you”

#liam mairi #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing smut #liam mairi x reader

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kooggukk · 20 days ago

Text

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK ; 2

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

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— 2/??

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“i told you i could just look after her for you.” the raven haired man said while doing nabi’s pigtails that she loves so much.

“you have your own job too, taehyung.” jungkook simply replied, “plus, you’re always near killing her when you’re left alone.”

taehyung scoffed, taking it by heart as he tied the final loop of nabi’s pigtails. “killing her? don’t be dramatic. she’s perfectly fine with me, right nabi?”

she giggled and taehyung picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. the boring, quiet house was now filled with her sweet laughs. “hey! see now? put her— tae!” jungkook went to reach for his daughter, but the man ran away, nabi’s pigtails swinging and bouncing.

“you’re gonna drop her!”

“you know i won’t!”

“but anything could happen any second-“

taehyung stopped, playfully throwing nabi down on the soft mattress of the couch. “you ever have some fun, man? jesus..”

jungkook rolled his eyes at his words, “i can have fun too!”

“be for real, the last time you had fun was probably when you made nabi— ow!” taehyung laughed but instantly stopped when he felt a slap on his neck.

“watch your mouth?” he whispered, pointing to nabi. taehyung turned around and noticed how she was unbothered, being in her own little world playing with her princess dolls.

“calm down, the fuck. she ain’t even paying attention to us— i mean, you. right nabi?” taehyung asked the last part loudly with a huge grin, glancing at her.

he turned back with a smile to jungkook when she nodded, “see? i’m always in the center of her attention. she loves me, dude. you know that too!”

“of course i know she loves you, you’re like the second dad.”

“whoa, we ain’t gay—“ taehyung put his hands up in surrender.

“not like that!” jungkook smacked his neck again, “you’re her uncle, besides you and me, she got nobody else.”

“you ever thought of dating again?”

jungkook let out a sigh of frustration. “you at this again? i told you— at least a million times already that i don’t want to.”

taehyung shrugged and fixed the blanket next to nabi. “dunno, you could’ve changed your mind since then.”

“well, i haven’t.”

“okay, great to know. so, i guess i should cancel the blind date i planned?” taehyung asked with a raised brow.

“the hell, tae?!”

“jokin’..” he laughed but he quickly took his phone out, typing a message to someone. jungkook watched in disbelief, shaking his head as he checked the time.

“you should go, she could be here any moment now.”

“what? you won’t even let me meet the person who’s gonna spend all day with my precious angel?” he feigned hurt, pouting.

“you can, just another time.”

jungkook crossed his arms while taehyung kept his pout on with his puppy eyes, “no. that looks weird on you, grow up. stop it.”

he cursed at jungkook in a whisper, reaching his hand out to nabi. “nabi, come on. say goodbye to tata.”

she got up and walked to him, holding his hand. he bent down to plant a kiss on her hair, “am i the best?” he whispered to her. she smiled and nodded, “the best!”

“just go already,” jungkook scoffed and pushed taehyung. he opened the door but stopped, “what?” jungkook asked and looked to the door.

you stood there, about to press the bell. “oh,” jungkook rushed to the door and pushed taehyung aside.

he looked at jungkook and then back at you. “is this her?” he asked, unbothered if he sounded rude. jungkook gave him a look but nodded, already knowing what’s gonna happen next.

taehyung turned to you, looking you up and down. he hummed and that made something weird in your stomach, as if you were being looked down on.

“hey, i’m taehyung, single—“ he couldn’t finished as he got pushed out of the door. “bye tae!” jungkook said and stepped aside to let you in.

you glanced at taehyung and you saw him make a ‘call me’ sign with a smile before he turned his back to you, walking away.

“sorry about that,” jungkook embarrassedly apologized as you both got inside. “it’s alright. is he your friend?” you asked, taking off your coat.

he nodded and took the outerwear from you, neatly hanging it. you mumbled a thanks and you took off your shoes too, placing them nicely next to the wall. “yeah, he can be kind of annoying.”

you both settled down on the couch, and after jungkook got a glass of orange juice for you, it was now discussion time.

“so, i have a set of keys hanged next to the coats, those are yours. i wrote the names of the doors on the keys to not switch them up. gate, front door, basement. i also got a key for nabi’s room if it would be an emergency.”

he explained everything and you nodded, taking a sip. “she usually eats lunch around 2PM, the latest is 3. if you’re out and get back late, just wait till’ dinner.”

he leaned a little closer to make sure nabi doesn’t hear him, but it was useless because she wasn’t paying attention anyways. “i have chocolate ice cream in the bottom drawer of the freezer, if she’s having a huge— and i mean huge tantrum, give her a small cup and she’ll be nice again.”

you laughed and nodded, “does she have allergies?” you asked. he hummed and shook his head, leaning back to his original seat.

“no, nothing that i know of. she got it checked a few months ago and she can eat anything.”

“oh god— food. she’s hella picky.” jungkook sighed and glanced at her, then back at you.

“first of all, peppers. she doesn’t like the seeds inside, so i always cut them in thin lines to make sure none gets in there. same with grapes, oranges and tangerines. literally anything that has seeds, needs to be picked out. except tomatoes, thank god.”

“whoa, i never met someone who doesn’t eat the seeds.” you said, looking at her.

“she says because it’s soft food, and the seeds are hard. i dunno, i guess it’s.. nabi logic or something.” he waved his hand, leaving the topic.

“next, bread. always cut the bread crust off. it once poked her gums and she wouldn’t eat it since then.”

“i don’t like the crust either, so that’s not an issue.”

he looked at you weirdly, “the crust is the best part of a freshly baked bread.”

you shrugged, “i don’t like it.”

after a good 5 minutes long discussion about bread crust, jungkook lead you to a door. “and lastly, this is your room.”

you step inside, taking in the decor. it wasn’t much different from the other furnitures in the house, “it’s the guest room,” jungkook broke the silence.

you turned to him with a nod, “it’s really nice. thank you.”

“it used to be my office so there might be a few papers or folders in one of the drawers, just let me know if you find anything.”

“yeah, of course.”

“you can bring as many decorations as you want in here, i want you to feel the most comfortable. you can move in whenever, i won’t rush you.”

he saw the hesitation written on your face, and he panicked that he must have misunderstood the situation.

“or— you don’t have to move in obviously! i just thought you’d be with nabi from early hours to late afternoons, sometimes even nights therefor-“

he ranted, his eyes going everywhere in the room but your eyes, his hands in a fist next to his body. he was nervous, afraid he made a woman, — he made you uncomfortable.

“i understand, don’t worry. and i think i’ll just spend a few days a week. if that’s alright?”

“yeah!” his tone was more excited than he intended to be, he cleared his throat. “yeah that’s fine.”

you smiled at his clumsy behavior, your eyes looking around the room once again. “oh, i wanted to ask you something.” you turned to him.

“yeah?”

“the man, who was here before, does he come over a lot? i don’t want unexpected people to show up when i’m alone with nabi.”

“oh, taehyung. well yeah, a few days a week but he also has his own job, so don’t worry. and he knows i wouldn’t be here, so i doubt he’d come over.”

you nodded as he explained, walking out the room and heading to the living room, where nabi was still occupied.

“i could—“ jungkook started and he hurried in front of you, stopping you with his arms reached out. “i could write a list of names and their phone numbers about whom to trust and reach out to if i’m not available.”

“oh, that’d be helpful. thank you,” you smiled and jungkook got lost for a second, your lips looking wetter than they did a minute ago, shining beautifully.

“i have a very close friend of mine, her name is sasha.” you said and he got his attention back, looking at you dumbfounded as what you wanted to say.

“uh, like— if i ever go out with nabi, would it be a problem if sasha comes along with us?” your voice was uncertain, if he said no it would be damn embarrassing and awkward.

he hummed as he hesitated, scratching his head. “i mean i guess not? you said she’s your friend, so i believe she’s not a serial killer..” he joked, or half joked, maybe didn’t even joke about it but you laughed and his shoulders relaxed.

“no, she’s not. she was my co-worker, i can give you her number if an emergency were to happen.”

“sure, that’d be nice.”

┈ ⪩⪨ ┈

the first week of taking care of nabi wasn’t so horrible, better than you expected. she was really calm, sometimes too calm and quiet. you didn’t think much about it, telling yourself she gotta get used to you.

one day she was sweet like an angel, asking to play dolls with her, “__! play barbie with me!” she didn’t ask, she commanded you to play it with her.

so you did, you sat down on the floor across her, holding another blonde barbie doll. it was going fine, until she— or more like her ‘barbie’ talked bad about your doll.

“ew! your dress is so not cool!” her tone was high pitched, you gasped. “oh my! that’s not so nice of you, nabi.”

“i didn’t say that, it was her!” she held up her doll.

you got lost in your thoughts that day, afraid she might grow up thinking it was fine to judge others’ appearance. you know that she’s aware it’s just games, but what if she thinks it’s just as fine to do that in real life as with dolls?

then some other days, she just wouldn’t say one single word to you. she would mumble a few ‘thank you’s when you give her juice or make food, but she wouldn’t ask you to play with her, go out for a walk, watch a show. nothing.

when you would be the one suggesting to go outside, she’d shake her head. “everything okay, sweetheart?” you asked when you walked from the kitchen to her, holding a plate of cookies.

she didn’t look up at you but she gave you nod, “i brought cookies. chocolate, the one you like.” you put it down but she completely ignored it, continuing to draw.

you watched her in silence, maybe you were the one doing something wrong? maybe your cookies aren’t tasty? maybe you said something that she misunderstood?

all the bad possibilities flew to your mind, stressing you out. you sat down on the couch, zoning out but not completely. you saw nabi move from the corner of your eye, she walked up to you with two dolls.

“you wanna play?”

…

she just shrugged, giving you the same doll she did the other day, which made you remember what she had said.

it started fine, she said some stuff about horses and playgrounds, but then it happened again. she randomly changed the topic, saying your doll’s hair was ugly and it’d be better to buzz it off.

you put the doll down, “nabi, don’t be so mean. you know you can’t say stuff like that, right?”

“you can’t say someone’s dress is not cool or their hair isn’t as pretty as yours. you might think it’s okay because these are just dolls, but no. treat them like you would treat a friend.”

“i have no friends.”

your heart sank. you never asked about friends, assuming she had them. what a disgusting thing you did. assume.

you felt horrible, ashamed. “i’m sorry angel.” you placed your hand on her small back, and that’s when the door opened.

jungkook walked in, looking a bit like a mess but the tiredness left him as soon as nabi ran to him. he smiled but then frowned, hearing her sobs.

you widened your eyes, confused why she was crying now. you stood up and jungkook stared at you, picking up his daughter. “what’s wrong?”

he asked her, but she gave him no reply. he looked at you again for answers but you shook your head, no idea what was going on with her. “ya, it’s fine, stop crying.” he kicked off his shoes and carried her to her bedroom.

you waited, patiently sitting on the couch.

“she’s okay?” you asked when he got back, plopping down next to you.

“yeah, but she wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

you stayed silent, staring at the turned off tv in front of you.

“did you.. say something to her?” he asked, trying to sound as polite as possible.

you snapped your head towards him, “no, nothing bad that i know of.”

“what did you talk about?”

“we were playing with her dolls and she started talking bad about my doll, for the second time this week. so, i told her it’s not nice and she shouldn’t do that. she needs to be nice, not judge the dolls.”

he listened carefully, resting his head on his arm.

“i told her to treat them like she would treat a friend. i didn’t know she doesn’t have friends..”

jungkook sighed, “she must say those things because some girls used to be rude to her at daycare. that’s why i got you instead, i don’t want her to be raised in a place like that.”

“i’m so sorry i brought that topic up in front of her, i should’ve acted like a mature person and think before saying anything— god, i feel awful.”

“you don’t have to, you didn’t know.”

“but i assumed..”

“so? that’s just how the brain works, social life and friends are normal and common, we assume everyone has them.”

he saw how much this affected you too, he scooted a little closer and placed his big hand on your shoulder. “don’t feel bad. she’s fine, she will be fine.”

you groaned, throwing your head back. “i know..”

he chuckled, noticing how exhausted you looked by the end of the week. “was she fine tho? how was your week with her? i hope she’s not too.. horrible to you.”

you shook your head, giving him a look then closing your eyes. “she’s fine. a little quiet but that shouldn’t be a bad thing, right?”

“right. better than a child who runs around yelling all day.”

“oh i hope that day never comes. i wouldn’t survive that.” silence fell in the room after a round of small laughing.

“you had lunch?” he asked you out of the sudden, looking at the clock. almost 5PM.

“yeah, i cooked her some of those dino nugg—“

“no, i meant, you. did you have lunch?”

oh. how embarrassing..!

“no, i didn’t.” you sighed, sitting up straight.

“come on, then.” he stood up, walking to the kitchen. you frowned, “what?”

“let’s eat.”

“it’s late, almost dinner time.”

“then, let’s eat dinner. call it whatever you want.” he shrugged, taking off his hoodie which he threw on the armchair when he walked past it.

“i can eat at home, it’s fine.”

“__.”

wow, there was something in his tone, commanding, strict. he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed, staring at you. he jerked his head towards the kitchen, signaling you to follow.

“please, eat with me. it’d be late when you get home, i don’t want you to cook at that hour. come on,”

his voice wasn’t aggressive nor loud, but yet it had a firmness, leaving no room for argument.

“also, it’s already getting dark. stay for tonight.”

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