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clairoscharm · 1 month ago

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you're my bestfriend

pairing : ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings : childhood bsf!ew, fluff fluff fluff, not sure what to feel abt this but wtv!, friends to lovers, mentioned of abby being in a rs w @r3starttt , modern au, college au! uhmmm that’s it? OH MENTIONED OF OWEN AS WELL

credits : @anitalenia @fawniiky @cafekitsune

✉️ : this is a draft or repost but i rewritten it :)

DAILY CLICK

DON’T BUY TLOU

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

The friendship between you and Ellie began when you were twelve.

It all started with a school project, an awkward pairing that felt like a chore at first. But as the two of you began working together, it quickly became clear that this was something special. You laughed over shared jokes, stumbled through awkward silences, and discovered you could lean on each other even during the chaos of adolescence.

By the time the middle school ended, your bond had become unshakable. Ellie wasn’t just a friend; she was a constant—a partner in crime, your confidant, your people.

That was years ago, back when everything felt a little simpler. Now, you were both in college, sharing a new chapter of life together. Time had only strengthened the connection between you. Through exams, messy dorm rooms, and late-night cramming sessions, Ellie remained the person who felt most like home.

When the winter break rolled around, there was no question where you’d spend it: back in Jackson, at your childhood house. The two-week Christmas and New Year holiday was the perfect excuse to escape campus life and dive into the traditions you and Ellie had built over the years.

One of the traditions you two built over the years was having regular sleepovers. These weren’t just casual, one-off events but rituals that kept your friendship alive, vibrant, and full of the joys that come with shared memories.

The two of you used to stay up until the small hours playing video games, binge-watching movies you’d seen countless times, and gossiping about everything from celebrities to the drama unfolding in your social circles.

Whether it was at her place or yours, sleepovers were a haven of connection.

This time, it was at your house.

—

The living room was alive with the sounds of laughter and playful bickering. The floor was strewn with takeout boxes and empty soda cans, remnants of a feast that fueled your gaming marathon. The TV cast a soft, flickering light across the room as you and Ellie faced off in a video game.

“Ha! Take that!” Ellie crowed, slamming her controller buttons with exaggerated glee.

“Don’t get cocky,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at the screen. “This isn’t over.”

Despite your competitive banter, there was an ease to the moment that felt like second nature. It was the kind of night where time blurred, where everything else faded into the background.

As you reached for a slice of leftover pizza, a thought popped into your head. You paused the game, grinning mischievously. “Wait, oh my god. I forgot to tell you something!”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “Oh no. What now?”

“It’s not bad,” you said, your grin widening. “Just some campus drama you missed.”

Ellie smirked, leaning back on her hands. “Well, don’t hold out on me. Spill.”

You set down the pizza and leaned in, lowering your voice as if you were sharing top-secret intel. “Okay, so you know Abby Anderson, right?”

“Duh,” Ellie replied. “Big, intimidating, kind of broody? Hard to miss her. What about her?”

“She’s seeing this girl, Renee—you’ve probably seen her around. She’s an art student and works at the campus coffee shop.”

“Oh yeah, she’s sweet,” says Ellie, nodding. “Always remembers my order. What happened?”

“Well,” you continued, leaning in like you were about to share state secrets, “Abby introduced Renee to her team after practice the other day. And guess who decided to make things awkward?”

Ellie tilted her head. “Owen?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” you said, clapping your hands together. “Apparently, he was making these weird, personal jokes about Abby and Renee. But here’s the best part—Renee shut him down. Like, stone cold. I wish I could’ve seen it.”

Ellie's jaw dropped, and she let out a laugh. “Renee? Quiet, coffee-shop Renee? She shut Owen down?”

“Yup," you said, popping the “p” for emphasis.

"Abby looked like she wanted to high-five her right there. Owen just kind of slunk off after that. It was amazing.”

“I need to start hanging out at practice,” Ellie joked, shaking her head. “But what’s up with Owen? I thought he and Mel were a thing.”

“They were,” you said, her tone shifting slightly. “Till Mel broke it off last month. She said he was too focused on himself and not enough on, well, everything.”

“Yikes,” she muttered. “That's tough, hope she's okay though.”

You nodded your head in agreement, then smirked. “Okay, your turn. Any juicy updates from your side of campus?”

She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Oh! Dina and Jesse—there was this whole misunderstanding last week, but they worked it out, and now they’re even stronger.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Misunderstanding? What happened?”

“Well,” Ellie started, “Jesse had been spending a lot of time at the library with Cat—”

“Cat? Isn’t she like….gay?” you interrupted, your tone suspicious.

“Yes, but—,” she said, waving you off. “They were working on a group project for their media studies class. But Dina didn’t know that at first, and when she saw them together, she thought something was up.”

You winced. “Oof. That must’ve been a fun conversation.”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding. “Dina confronted Jesse about it, and he immediately cleared everything up. He even invited her to join them at the library so she could see for herself.”

You smiled, her expression softening. “Aww, classic Jesse. That guy would probably walk through fire for her.”

“Exactly,” Ellie agreed. “Dina felt bad for jumping to conclusions, but Jesse was super understanding about it after they talked it out."

"It’s nice to see a couple that actually, you know, communicates.”

Ellie chuckled, tossing a fry at you. “What a concept, huh?”

“Right?” you said, laughing as you tossed the fry back at her.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, the hum of the television filling the room again. Ellie stretched out her legs, resting her head against the beanbag as she glanced at you.

“What about you?” she asked, her tone casual but curious. “Anything new in your world?”

You shook your head, leaning back. “Not really. My life’s basically a drama-free zone, which, honestly, I’m okay with.”

Ellie gave you a lopsided grin. “You’re lucky. The rest of us are out here living in a soap opera.”

“Yeah,” you teased, “But where would you be without my advice and impeccable commentary?”

Ellie laughed, her voice warm and easy. “Nowhere. You’re basically my rock, you know that?”

Her words made you pause, but before you could respond, she reached for another fry, casually throwing it into her mouth as though she hadn’t just made your heart skip a beat.

No matter how chaotic campus life, or Ellie’s stories gets, moments like this grounded you. With Ellie, it always felt like home.

A thick comforter lay sprawled over both of your legs, its soft fabric a welcome barrier against the cold. You shifted slightly, the rustle of the blanket mingling with the distant creaks of the house settling, a reminder of the quiet world outside this cocoon of warmth.

As you reached for a slice of leftover pizza, Ellie adjusted her position, her socked feet brushing against yours beneath the blanket. You didn’t say anything, but the small, familiar gesture made your chest tighten with an unspoken comfort.

In the brief pause between rounds, the room felt quieter.

The hum of the heater in the corner created a steady background rhythm, joined occasionally by the faint groan of the pipes. Outside, the faint whistle of wind against the windowpanes added to the serene atmosphere, as if the world itself were settling in for the night.

Ellie stretched her arms above her head, yawning loudly. “Okay, okay, I need a break. My hands are cramping,” she said, dropping her controller onto the couch beside her with a soft thud.

“You mean you’re tired of losing,” you teased, earning a playful shove in return.

“Keep talking, and I’m taking the last slice of pizza,” she shot back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Ellie grabbed the remote and turned it off with a click. The sudden quiet felt startling at first, but the soft hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the house quickly filled the silence.

You glanced around the room—pillows and blankets were scattered across the couch and the floor, remnants of the makeshift sleepover setup you'd thrown together earlier in the night. The couch wasn’t big enough for both of you to sleep on comfortably, so you’d decided to make the floor a cozy nest instead.

Ellie flopped down on the pile of blankets with a dramatic sigh, her arm draping over her face. “I’m never going to move again,” she declared, her voice muffled by the fabric.

You laughed softly, tossing another pillow down beside her. “Good. That means I get the better blanket.”

Ellie peeked out from under her arm, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Over my dead body.”

Despite the mock protests, you handed her the thicker blanket before crawling onto the floor beside her. You stretched out on your back, the soft layers of the blanket beneath you cushioning the hardwood floor.

“God, I love nights like this,” she murmured, her voice low but content.

You nodded, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah. It’s kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

The world outside might have been cold and distant, but here, wrapped in the warmth of shared laughter and quiet moments, everything felt right.

Ellie shifted beside you, lying on her side and propping her head up with her hand. “Do you ever feel like the floor is weirdly more comfortable than a bed sometimes?” she mused, her voice soft, almost thoughtful.

“Not really,” you replied, turning your head to meet her gaze. “But it feels… different. Like we’re kids again.”

Ellie smiled faintly, her expression softening. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

The quiet between you wasn’t awkward. It never was. Instead, it was filled with the subtle sounds of your shared presence—the rustle of blankets as Ellie adjusted her position, the faint sound of her breathing as she stared at the ceiling.

Eventually, you turned onto your side, facing her. The space between you felt impossibly small, your fingers just brushing hers where they rested on the blanket.

“Ellie,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“You’re my best friend,” you said casually, your voice quiet but sincere.

She looked up at you, her brow raised slightly, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course,” you replied, chuckling as you leaned back against the stack of pillows. “You’re like the best part of my life, Ellie.”

She grinned, setting her phone down beside her. “Right back at you. You’re stuck with me, you know?”

You both shared a laugh, the kind of laugh that felt natural and familiar. But as the sound faded, a brief silence stretched between you, and you couldn’t help but wonder—would things be different if she were more than just your best friend?

The thought crept into your mind like it always did, sneaking in during quiet moments like this. Whether it was the way her laugh made your chest feel light or how her presence turned even the most mundane nights into something special, the idea lingered.

Ellie rolled onto her back, her shoulder brushing against yours as she got comfortable. The soft rustle of the blankets and the hum of the heater filled the room as the house settled into the quiet hours of the night.

You let your eyes close, but the lingering thought of what if stayed with you, weaving its way through your dreams as sleep finally took over.

The quiet night enveloped the both of you, and in the peaceful cocoon of the living room, everything felt like it was exactly where it was meant to be—for now.

—

The next morning, as sunlight poured through the blinds, casting golden beams across the room, you found yourself back in the kitchen, preparing tea. You didn’t know it yet, but this was the start of something new—a chapter where the line between friendship and love began to blur in ways that felt as natural as breathing.

The faint whistle of a teapot came from the kitchen, pulling Ellie from her slumber. She stretched like a cat, groaning quietly as her body protested against the familiar couch cushions. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and blinked at the sunlight streaming through the curtains.

The house smelled of tea, the aroma pulling her to her feet.

Ellie was so familiar with your routines by now that nothing surprised her anymore. She knew that mornings were your sanctuary. From the way you’d groggily reach for your phone, squinting at the screen, to the way you’d lounge in bed for a few extra minutes before getting up to make tea and soak in the quiet beauty of the day.

Padding into the kitchen, Ellie found you standing by the counter, the steam from the teapot swirled lazily around you, and the sight made her pause for a moment. She always thought you looked effortlessly beautiful, but something about that moment felt different.

Your hair was loosely behind your ears, framing your face, and your posture relaxed as you waited for the tea to steep. You were humming—some song she couldn’t quite place—but the sight and sound of you in the morning light made Ellie’s chest ache with something she didn’t quite know how to name.

"Morning," you said, your voice warm with the remains of sleep.

Ellie slid into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, still rubbing the last traces of sleep from her eyes. "Morning. You're up early."

You laughed lightly. "Early? It’s almost nine."

She chuckled, leaning back in her seat. "Fair point. Making tea again, huh?"

You nodded, lifting an eyebrow at her. "Want some?"

Normally, she’d say no. She wasn’t much of a tea drinker and often teased you about your near-religious devotion to it. But today, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she hesitated.

"Yeah," she said suddenly, surprising even herself. "Sure. Why not?"

You froze mid-pour, turning to her with a raised brow. "You? Tea? Are you feeling okay?"

Ellie shrugged nonchalantly, though her voice betrayed a hint of curiosity. "Don’t make it a thing. Just figured I’d try it since you’re so obsessed."

You smirked but said nothing, turning back to pour her a cup.

The kitchen was quiet save for the clink of mugs and the soft whistle of the kettle, and Ellie found herself watching you again, noticing the way the sunlight played on your features.

The moment felt oddly significant. As Ellie leaned against the chair, watching you prepare the tea, she noticed the way the sunlight caught strands of your hair, the way your movements were careful and precise, as though this simple act was its own form of artistry.

Ellie found herself smiling.

"How come you want to try it today?" you asked, breaking the silence.

She shrugged again, her fingers idly scratching behind the ears of one of your pets who had wandered into the kitchen. "I don’t know," she said softly. "Just felt like it."

You nodded and smiled at her before grabbing a container that has ‘Sugar’ written on it.

Knowing Ellie’s aversion to bitter drinks, you added two and a half sugar of full spoon into her tea before mixing it. As you stirred, you felt her gaze on you, uncharacteristically focused.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on you longer than usual. The scene felt timeless, almost nostalgic, as if it had happened before and would happen again countless times.

"I want to live with you forever one day," Ellie said suddenly, her voice quiet but steady.

You froze, the words taking you back to when she had said the exact same thing years ago. Back then, it had been a lighthearted comment, something tossed into the air during one of your late-night talks. But now, there was a weight to her tone that hadn’t been there before.

A blush crept across your cheeks, but you smiled nonetheless. "Let’s do that somewhere in the future, yeah?"

When you handed her the mug, she caught the faintest smile on your lips. Your fingers brushed briefly, and Ellie felt a warmth that wasn’t just from the tea.

The two of you moved to the living room, settling onto the couch with your steaming mugs. The morning sunlight spilled into the room, wrapping everything in a gentle glow. It was one of those rare moments of absolute serenity.

Ellie took the mug, cradling it in her hands as the warmth seeped into her skin. She hesitated for a moment before taking a sip. The sweetness hit her first, then the floral notes of the tea. It wasn’t bad.

"Not terrible," she admitted, her voice laced with surprise.

"High praise," you teased, grinning as you leaned back on the couch.

Ellie shook her head, smiling despite herself. "What’s your secret?"

Leaning closer, you whispered as though sharing a sacred truth. "I add a little extra sugar. Don’t tell anyone though, it’s our secret."

Ellie chuckled, her grin widening. "My lips are sealed."

The room fell into a comfortable silence again as you both sipped your tea. For you, the moment felt like something out of a dream.

You had always imagined a life like this—peaceful mornings with someone you loved, sharing quiet moments over a warm cup of tea or coffee. You’d daydreamed about it as a teenager, envisioning a cozy home filled with the soft sounds of laughter, the pitter-patter of pets (or maybe even with kids around), and the kind of love that felt like warm, cozy, slow, like home.

Ellie knew about those dreams. You’d shared them with her years ago, during one of your late-night talks. She had always admired how clear you were about what you wanted in life.

As you sat there, sipping your tea, you found your thoughts drifting. Ellie was so deeply embedded in your life, in your heart, that imagining a future without her felt impossible. And yet, the idea of wanting her in a romantic sense felt like a line you shouldn’t cross.

Ellie broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with meaning. "You know what this reminds me of?"

You turned to her, tilting your head slightly. "What?"

"Back when we were teenagers, you told me about your dream life," she said, her eyes locking onto yours. "And this… this feels like it. Like the future you described."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"And honestly," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I want it to be me."

The words hung in the air, weighty and electric.

"You… you want it to be you?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Ellie nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yeah. I’ve wanted it to be me for a long time."

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. Emotions swirled within you—surprise, joy, and an overwhelming sense of belonging.

"I want it to be you too," you admitted, your voice soft but certain.

Ellie’s smile was radiant, and she reached out to place her hand over yours.

"I meant what I said earlier," she confessed. "In the kitchen. And years ago."

Your heart swelled as you realized this moment was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Sometimes, the simplest things—a cup of tea, a quiet morning, the soft glow of sunlight—can carry the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions. This moment, this connection, felt like coming home.

You had always dreamed of this life, and now, you were finally living it, with Ellie by your side.

Together, and perhaps, it’s a forever kind of thing.

#dyn’s | writings ᝰ.ᐟ #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader

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gardenwalrus · 21 days ago

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Paul McCartney at Wings' Christmas photo shoot, 1979(?)

PaulMcCartney.com Q&A (19 December 2022):

Q: When you first released ‘Wonderful Christmastime’, did you think it was going to be a Christmas hit that would come back every year? Or does it surprise you that it’s still so popular now? Paul: I like the idea of Christmas songs purely because they only come around at Christmas! They remind us of the fun atmosphere of the whole season, and when I was writing ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ I was trying to capture that party aspect. I did hope it would keep coming back – which it has. Sometimes people will go into a shop and hear it a little too much, but I don’t care! I’m happy!

Q: We really wanted to ask you about this ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ fan theory that has gone viral on social media. The theory suggests the song is about people practising witchcraft, chanting ‘the moon is right, the spirit’s up’, and when someone walks in, they must play it cool and pretend they are ‘simply having a wonderful Christmastime!’. Is this theory true? Paul: Oh yeah. Well, thank goodness they found me out. This is completely true and in actual fact I am the head wizard of a Liverpool coven. (Paul laughs) Either that… or it’s complete nonsense. And you know it’s the latter! Q: This theory may have come from people mishearing the lyrics. Could you confirm if the lyric is ‘the moon is right’ or ‘the mood is right’? Paul: It’s ‘the mood’! This is the mood; I’ve gathered together the witches and wizards… I’ve got ‘the mood’, which is what we in wizardry call it (laughs). The thing is about this stuff, it’s so easy to convince half the people in the world. You do have to be a little bit careful! No, it’s ‘the mood’. And you know what, I’m thinking about Liverpool Christmas parties, that’s really all I’m doing with that song. “The mood is right, let’s raise a glass, the spirit’s up” – you know, all the stuff you do at Christmas. Particularly with my old Liverpool family parties. Q: You’ve spoken before about singing around the piano at parties in Liverpool, and in ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ the choir ‘sing their song’ - but do you have any memories of going carolling at Christmas? Paul: I can’t remember ever having done it, so I probably didn’t. The fun thing about Christmas carolling, that probably would have influenced my decision NOT to do it, was that my dad always used to make fun of them. He'd say, ‘Here’s a shilling to go sing in the next street’. He was not a big fan of Christmas carols. I quite like them! Q: Are there any Christmas traditions from your childhood which you have continued into adulthood, and shared with your own children and grandchildren? Paul: I have actually started some new traditions. When the kids were little, I suddenly thought there wasn’t the ideal Christmas record, in my opinion. There’s some great Christmas records like the Phil Spector one, and Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby on the old standards, but I just wanted an instrumental of all the tunes. So, I ended up recording one for the family in my studio. And Eddie Klein, my engineer at the time, helped me. I now have this album I pull out every year, and it’s a bit of fun for the kids when we’re carving the veggie roast. I’ll stick it on and it means Christmas is here. It’s quite a cute little record actually! But it’s just for the family. Q: Some fans already know this exists, it’s part of the Paul McCartney folklore! I think they’re hoping to hear it one day. Paul: I’ve often thought it’s good enough if people would like it released, and I’ve thought I could do it for charity or something, but never really felt strongly enough to make a decision. It’s just a family record, and I’ll pull it out again this Christmas. My main job is to carve the roast. That was one of the things I liked when we became veggie years ago. I said it would be nice for me to able to do what I thought of as the traditional ‘dad’ job, so that’s the carving of the turkey in the old days, and now it’s the carving of the veggie roast. I normally do that – unless someone gets in there first, and I get miffed! Steady on! So yeah, I put on the Christmas record, carve the roast, and then we do all the normal Christmas things. Christmas crackers and reading out all the terrible jokes and trying to really be happy with the little gift that comes inside, which is something you’re never going to use or keep. This is the spirit of Christmas! We mainly do all the stuff that everyone else does at Christmas time.

#pretty sure its 79 based on the line up?#paul mccartney

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writtenbymoonflower · 8 months ago

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Hi there I was wondering if you would be comfortable writing a poly!maurauders x reader where the reader struggles with an eating disorder. Like she is from a pure blood family and it was a bad habit she picked up. I totally understand if you wouldn’t want to write something like that however!

hi lovely! thank you for requesting, i hope this is okay

cw: general discussion of ed struggles and thoughts (including restriction, binging, and purging, not detailed), swearing, sexual joke implying rough play (towards the end)

1k words

You weren’t sure how long you had been in the kitchen for, but it started to feel like an excessive amount of time. You stared into the cupboards, scanning the shelves for something to eat. Both everything and nothing was appetizing. You would then give up, sighing in disdain before repeating the same process with the fridge, then the freezer, then back to the cupboards, then the freezer again to make sure-

The door opened, a bag dropped, shoes squeaked against the hardwood floors.

“Hey, angel!” James barrelled into the kitchen. You turned towards him so he could embrace you.

“Hey, Jamie. You’re back early.” He looked at you questioningly, cutting his eyes to the oven clock.

Shit! It had been that long?

“Oh wow!” You laughed uncomfortably. “I must’ve lost track of time.” You shrugged as Sirius slid into the kitchen, patting your ass as he walked past. You turned your now-warm face in his direction. He opened the cupboard, immediately finding a snack and eating with ease. It made you jealous to see the boys eat with so much levity. They never denied their cravings in favor of something smaller, or even nothing at all. They never stared a hole into every nutrition label, wondering how days of food would have to be restricted to compensate, or how many steps would have to be taken to burn every bite off, or how easy it would come back up. They never wallowed in hunger for hours, or ate to the point of pain. Their moral value had never been questioned based off of the food they chose to eat (or not eat). You must’ve been staring in wonder for a long time, because Sirius had quirked a dark brow at you.

“You checking me out, babydoll?” He teased. You shook your flaming face, looking away from him and mumbling an apology. The quick motion had you seeing spots though, and you brought a hand to your head in hopes of steadying yourself.

“Shit, sweetheart.” James grabbed your face, looking you over for any visible injuries.

“Sorry, I just got a bit lightheaded.” This called the two boys to alert fast.

“Yeah, baby?” Sirius asked carefully. He crooked a finger at you, beckoning you over while James quickly went to get you some water. He felt your face, which was now cold, he scrunched his brows in concern. He moved his hands to your hips, hoping that would keep you steady. You took the water from James, noticing the pinkish hue.

“It’s electrolytes. It will taste good I promise.” He reassured. The taste wasn’t what you were worried about. “When did you last eat, angel?” That was the dreaded question. You struggled through the dense fog of memory.

“Umm, me and Remus ate together earlier. I’m not sure when, though.” You did remember exactly what you had eaten, though. With a little too much clarity for comfort. Like magic, Remus appeared, holding three empty mugs of tea.

“What are you gossiping about me for?” His voice would seem monotone to most, but you could hear the humor in it.

“Remus, love,” James asked gently. “When did you and Y/N eat?”

“We had a late breakfast after you two left today.” He responded suspiciously. You winced. It hadn’t felt like that long ago. The time it took for Remus to understand the situation was very little.

“Did you forget to eat today, honey?” James’ anxiety was evident. You could tell he was hoping it was forgetfulness, as opposed to the other possibility.

“Yeah. I tried to find something a while ago but nothing looked good.” They knew you got like this. Too much choice, nothing made the voice inside your head happy.

“That’s okay.” James’ hand was rubbing a soothing path up and down your arm. “I haven’t had dinner yet, we can find something together.” He pressed his lips to your forehead before turning to the other two in the room. “Have you two eaten yet?”

“Not since lunch, no.” Remus slipped back out of the room.

“I mean, I could always eat.” Sirius said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Remus returned, carrying upwards of ten bars of chocolate.

“Have some of this, dovey.” Remus picked out your favorite, starting to break it into chunks for you.

“Rem, it’s okay.” You panicked. Your brain was screaming, both in want for food and in rejection. “I don’t need it.”

“Sure you do.” He said, nonchalant. You picked up a bar of chocolate, flipping the package over. You didn’t have a chance to look before James took it from you.

“Baby!” He laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe you thought we would let you do that.” He was right. Since the boys picked up on your issues, they always tried to hide these things from you. Bottles would be handed with the label facing away from you, they would read items off of the menu at restaurants, hoping you wouldn’t look yourself, and the scale in the bathroom had strangely disappeared. Something that apparently Sirius ‘didn’t even notice, dolly, that’s funny.’

“Here, open up.” Sirius grabbed a square of chocolate from Remus’ stash. “Say, ahh.” He teased.

“Siri,” You laughed. “I don’t need you to feed me.”

“So? I want to. Stop being so selfish.” You let him place the chocolate in your mouth, rolling your eyes at him. He apparently took great offense to your attitude, deciding to worm his fingers into your waist in revenge. You tried desperately to bat his hands away.

“Careful, pads.” James tried to scold, obvious humor and affection slipping into his tone. “You’ll make her choke.” Sirius grunted in disdain.

“I guess you’re right.” Sirius kissed you, mouth still full of chocolate. You pulled away, dizzied to chug water.

“Thought that choking was my job.” Remus said casually. You nearly spit your water out.

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rip-quizilla · 1 year ago

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Eat Me

Pairing: Older!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Reader

Summary: (TLDR: you perform with Corroded Coffin, act like a brat the whole time, and Eddie makes you pay for it.) Two years after your hiatus from the music industry, you're back and all grown up now. After collaborating with early 2000's metal sensation Corroded Coffin for several songs off your new album, you debut the new tracks live in a surprise performance with the band during their tour- and the tension between you and frontman Eddie Munson is so thick, you're barely able to keep your pants on throughout the set. (Songs referenced are by Demi Lovato from her album HOLY FVCK, which inspired this fic. I highly suggest listening to the songs "Eat Me" and "Freak" while they're performed in the story for the complete experience!)

Word Count: 14K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, age gap (reader is 27, Eddie is 47), Reader is a brat (Eddie can handle it), fingering, squirting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap up!!), light degradation, reader has blue hair, reader is a grown-up child star, for the purposes of this fic Corroded Coffin started in the 90s instead of 80s for timeline reasons

🖤🖤🖤

You had no fucking clue what you were doing.

It had been two years since you’d put out music. Two. Years. That’s enough time for a person’s relevance to crawl into a hole and die, which is something you had been strongly considering doing for the duration of those two years.

It was a tale as old as time- child star grows up. Child star is not a child anymore, but the world only wants the star to be a child, so if the star wants to keep being a star, they do not. grow. up.

But you grew up, and guess what happened?

The world hated you for it.

So you stopped trying to be a star. You’d dropped off the face of the earth and deleted every social media app from your phone. You’d bought a house in the mountains, and thanks to modern technologies like Amazon and DoorDash, you basically never had to leave. It was a little scary how easily you had become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods. Your life quickly became a never ending cycle of reading, binge-watching tv, and dying/cutting your hair whenever the mood struck (The latest spontaneous color change had left you with a surprisingly pretty shade of faded blue).

It was easy, running away… until it caught up with you.

After all, at your core you had always been a performer. From your first audition at five years old to your big break at twelve, to the first album you’d put out on your television network’s record label- you had always been a person who had something to say and craved an audience to hear it. When your audience had turned on you, it had jolted your rhythm enough that you forgot the words to a song you’d been singing as long as you could remember.

It had taken you a couple years, but eventually you figured out that when you play the same song on repeat for long enough, it gets old.

So you wrote a new song.

To be more precise, you wrote a whole album. Literally.

Some of the songs were composed, some still needed a tune, but the message of the album was clear: I’m not that little girl on your TV screen anymore. You don’t have to like it, but you sure as hell can’t change it.

The minute you’d figured that out, you’d called your team. Once they understood the direction your career was headed, they helped get everything in order for your re-entry into the fray that had driven you out in the first place.

There was only one part of the album that made you nervous.

I know two years doesn’t seem like that long, your agent had said, but the public eye doesn’t have a very impressive attention span. You only have half of the album composed, right? This is the perfect opportunity to make the other half of the songs collaborations with artists that are in the public eye!

The idea made sense. Their popularity helps you, and if the songs go over well, then it helps the other artists too. The only issue was that these songs were way more vulnerable than what you used to write… hell, half the songs you’d recorded before your hiatus were written by whatever run of the mill joe schmo had gotten the kid-friendly execs’ stamp of approval. Even when you’d split from the network after turning twenty-three, you’d kept your songs strictly PG-rated since you knew the majority of your audience were minors. These new songs, though…

You weren’t an idiot. The themes of these songs were not subtle. Anyone who listened to these new songs was going to see a side of you that wasn’t all that pretty. Were you ready for that? Were you ready to bare that darkness to not only the world, but to other artists who meant to help you make music out of it?

Your anxiety about the album had gotten even worse when your agent had given you the list of potential collaborators.

One song that you were particularly proud of called “Eat Me” had some very metal undertones to it, so you’d told your agent that you’d like to collaborate with a metal band or artist to compose the music that would match the lyrics. Almost immediately, your agent had suggested a collaboration with Corroded Coffin.

The band had been HUGE when you were a kid, topping charts throughout your childhood and making a name for themselves as one of the most culturally relevant turn-of-the-century metal bands. Even now, they were a household name. Your older brother had been a huge fan, so you’d actually listened to their music quite a lot growing up. They weren’t some random collaboration- if Corroded Coffin read your lyrics (which were basically your soul laid out on display) and thought they were shit? It might just send you spiraling right back to your cabin in the mountains.

You had been equal parts thrilled and terrified when your agent told you they’d agreed to collaborate on the song.

Currently, you were sitting in your home-away-from-home, a cozy apartment that you rented on a month-to-month basis whenever you needed to be in New York, which just so happened to be where Eddie Munson, lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin had asked to meet with you. It was your album, so you had invited him to come to your place and discuss his ideas for the song. You shifted nervously on your couch and glanced at the time on your phone. He was ten minutes late- that shouldn’t bother you, a lot of musicians had a habit of running late. Just because you didn’t subscribe to that stereotype didn’t mean you had to judge him for doing the opposite.

When you finally heard the buzz of your doorbell, you practically hopped off the couch. You peeped through the little door viewer to catch a glimpse before you had to look one of your childhood heroes in the eye. You… you hadn’t been adequately prepared to see this.

Eddie Munson had been attractive in his hay day- you could admit that. You’d seen the pictures of him on their album covers, the press photos, the magazines… he had always been cute in a scruffy sort of way. You hadn’t bothered Googling what he looked like now, which you were currently regretting since you had not been adequately prepared for the father of all DILFs to be standing on your doorstep.

After doing some quick math, you came to the conclusion that Eddie Munson must be in his mid to late forties at this point. His hair was still long and curly and thick as hell, but you noticed other details that you distinctly remembered were not present on the album covers you remember from your brother’s CD collection- dark, whiskery shadow along his cheeks and jawline. Tattoos creeping up from the collar of the crew neck shirt he wore, as well as every inch of his arms. A nose ring. Smile lines. Soft creases forming between thick brown eyebrows.

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you weren’t opening the door.

Shit. You inhaled sharply and hastily made to open the door. Breathe, you instructed yourself, taking a moment to blow out a semi-relaxing breath before turning the doorknob and plastering on your best entertainment industry smile.

“Hi!” you said, a little too peppy- you knew you sounded too peppy because the rockstar in front of you actually flinched when your high-pitched sorority girl voice slapped him in the face. “Sorry, I think I’m a little caffeine-riddled, I just finished my third cup of coffee.” You said apologetically, swinging the door open wider for him to step through the threshold into your apartment.

“Too many frappuccinos there, huh popstar?” His voice… if it hadn’t been so condescending, you might have melted on the spot. Your pride, however, had to argue with your clenching thighs.

“Uhm, no-” you laughed, keeping your voice airy as you shut the door and leaned back on it to ensure it was closed. “-just cold brew, rockstar.” You couldn’t help but add that quip at the end, seeing how he had just called you popstar like it was the same as calling someone a pussy or a wimp. What was his deal?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, and then turned back as if you hadn’t said anything at all. He simply sauntered through the hallway to your living room, where you had laid all the necessary materials for your composing process across the coffee table- but he wasn’t looking at that. He seemed to be inspecting your walls, the decor, the old pictures that sat in frames on your floating shelves, the records you had displayed above your turntable. His eyes surveyed everything like he was a judge at a fucking science fair, and your heart was starting to race as you started to irrationally wonder if you fell short of his expectations or something.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get his attention.

He turned to face you, irritation flashing across his expression like a cloud blowing past the sun. You took a breath. Calm down, you chided yourself mentally, he’s probably just a prick, don’t take it personally. Be professional.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You chirped politely, to which he smirked and shook his head.

“Don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart.”

You bristled; sweetheart? Who did he think he was, Don Draper? Was this the 1950’s? Were you his fucking secretary? Your blood pressure rose by the second.

“Hm.” you respond, chewing your lip to keep a snarky response to yourself. “Well, we can go ahead and get started if you want.” You gestured to the pages strewn across the coffee table. Notebook pages with your lyrics written out in black pen, empty pages of sheet music that you planned to fill out with a melody to coincide with your words as the morning went on. Your acoustic guitar sat securely in its stand beside the couch, eagerly awaiting your hands to make the message in your music come alive.

Munson sunk into the cushions of your leather couch, manspreading enough to make you feel like a guest in your own apartment. His forearms rested on the thighs of his ripped charcoal jeans as he surveyed the pages before him. He grabbed the notebook page full of lyrics first, chuckling when he saw the title.

“Eat Me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and the way he was holding the page between the two of you left only the top half of his face visible from where you sat. You noted that Eddie Munson had extremely expressive eyes. “That’s a pretty evocative title for such a squeaky-clean ‘lil diva.”

Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of the point.” Using your pointer finger to pull the page down, the bottom half of the rockstar’s face coming into view and spiking your blood pressure again when you saw that fucking smirk still on his face.

That’s it. This guy is an ass.

“Maybe my agent didn’t accurately portray my vision for this album,” you said, struggling to grit out the words without coming across angry. “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry we got our wires crossed.”

Ready to listen, Munson leaned back into your couch and crossed one booted foot over his knee, an arm thrown across the top of your couch cushions. The picture of nonchalance.

Cocky bastard.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I haven’t put any music out in over two years.” you began. “This isn’t just a new album for me- it's more like a debut album for the new direction I want to take my career in. Up until now, I’ve been portraying a very different side of myself that…if I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me. It was childish and immature and I…”

You huffed out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep being a kid, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old, for god’s sake.” the rockstar’s eyebrows jumped up at hearing your expletive, obviously amused.

What the fuck? Here you were, being vulnerable with a complete stranger, and he thought it was amusing? You half expected him to laugh, but you brushed past it and decided to ignore this asshole being even more of an asshole.

“What I’m trying to say is this is a very personal album for me. It’s very different from what I’ve been putting out, and that is very much the point. Does that make sense?”

You watched as he slowly nodded his head, mulling over your words. “So…it’s like a coming of age thing?” he ventured, “Like, ‘little girl’s all grown up and sexy now’ all that?” his mouth turned up at one corner. “How very Miley Cyrus of you, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, physically recoiling a bit. “Are you being serious right now?” you balked.

He shrugged.

Oh, you fumed, that is it. Fuck this guy.

You stood from the couch, finally snapping after holding yourself back from giving this asshat a piece of your mind. “What is your problem?” Munson’s smirk faded a bit, but his smug air remained intact as he stared up at you.

“Look sweetheart-”

“No.” you cut him off, stopping him with a hand in the air. “Stop calling me sweetheart like you know me or like that isn’t a condescending fucking way to speak to someone. You have done nothing but talk down to me since you walked through that door, so no, you do not get to talk to me like that, I don’t care how famous you are.”

There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face now, and you took pride in that. Maybe there was a conscience in there somewhere that was telling him I told you so right now.

You took the page from his hands and held it up for emphasis. “If you had just read my fucking song before making assumptions, then maybe you would have understood that this song is actually a social commentary on people like you who assume the direct trajectory of a child star’s career is to go from cute and childish to sexy ‘girls gone wild’ or whatever the fuck.” you spat, practically shaking the paper in your hand. “I’m allowed to grow into whoever I damn well please, and that’s exactly what this song is about. If I want to write a song about sex- and I’ve written a few, they’re on the fucking album- I’ll write them because that’s what I want to write! I’m not doing it for shock value or because I like attention; hell, I’ve been a literal hermit in the woods for two years, I don’t give a fuck about attention!”

You finally paused to breathe, and you knew your eyes must look absolutely insane because the man before you genuinely looked terrified.

Steeling yourself, you inhaled and exhaled slowly, attempting to push down some of that hysteria. “Sorry.” you bit, “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s just… this song is a part of me, and you just belittled it without even reading past the title.” You looked him directly in those big brown eyes and thought- hoped- for a second that you saw understanding in his gaze. “That was shitty. I’m not letting other people make me feel like shit anymore.”

When you were finished, silence took over. It settled over the room like a reprieve from a short but heavy rainfall before the sun showed itself again. Suddenly, Eddie Munson stood from your couch and marched to your door, letting himself out with a sharp click of your doorknob latching closed.

Okay. That went well. The lead singer of one of the most famous metal bands just came to your apartment, got yelled at, and ran away. You were just starting to ponder how you would explain this one to your publicist before you heard a knock at your door. Tentatively, you opened it- you didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was.

Eddie Munson stood at your door wearing an expression that you hadn’t seen yet today- he looked open, compassionate, and sorry. One hand in his pocket with the other outstretched, tattoos winding up the expanse of skin, rings glinting light from the sconces on either side of your door. He was offering his hand.

Smiling slightly, you accepted his gesture. You grasped his ink-scarred hand, feeling the cold metal of his rings press against your skin as you shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you-” he said your name softly, and you realized that when he had entered your apartment earlier, you hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries. Hadn’t introduced yourselves, almost as if fame got rid of the need for normal human introductions. Now, here he was, remedying that.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” you said, voice less chipper than it had been when the two of you originally stood in these same spots. “I’m a huge fan.”

He winced at ‘Mr.’, clapping his other hand over yours tightly. “Please, for the love of god, don’t call me Mr. Munson.” his big brown eyes pleaded with you. “Call me Eddie.”

Your smile widened as you nodded. “Eddie.” you repeated. “Is this you telling me we’re starting over?”

He let go of your hand, and you felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his skin left yours. “If that’s alright with you?” he replied softly, turning up the end of his sentence like a question.

Instead of saying yes, you simply stepped back to make room for him in your hallway. With a pleasant grin on your lips, you gestured for him to step inside. “Let’s get started, then.”

After sitting down on the couch once more, Eddie took the sheet of notebook paper on which you’d scrawled a part of your soul written in verse and began to read intently. Leaving him to digest the song completely (also because you felt awkward sitting there in silence as he read your work) you left to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. When you returned, he had already grabbed a fresh sheet of notebook paper and begun jotting down notes.

You placed the bottles on coasters, bracing yourself for the criticism that you knew was coming-

“You were right.”

Huh?

You craned your neck to see what he had written on the notebook paper. “About what?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Eddie yanked the paper out of your line of sight. “About this song, it’s completely different from what I’d assumed you would write. Actually,” he grinned. “-it’s kinda fucking metal.”

You smiled, once again reaching for the page. “Then let me see what you wrote-”

“I’m not finished yet, keep your panties on.”

The two of you worked for hours that afternoon, Eddie suggesting lines and chords as you wrote corresponding notes and chords on your sheet music. It didn’t take long for you to grab the acoustic guitar and begin strumming out portions of the song until it was finished.

Both of you agreed it was something to be proud of.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie stuttered before exiting your apartment that evening, when you were both happy with the work you’d done for the day. “I hope you know how sorry I am for being such an ass when I got here earlier-”

You shrugged, any traces of anger melted away at this point. “Eh.” you smirked. “You made up for it. That song might be my favorite on the album now, honestly, I meant it when I said I was a fan of yours- wouldn’t have trusted it with anyone else.”

He smiled at you warmly. “I’m honored to have such a talented fan.” The door was open, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, Eddie stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest leaning his weight to one shoulder against the doorway. “I mean it though, you’re a talented songwriter. If you want to collaborate on any other songs, just say the word and I’m back here.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, “Dead serious.”

Smiling excitedly, you ran to your notebook, flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for. You looked up at Eddie, a knowing grin on your lips. “Remember those songs about sex I mentioned?”

***

The original plan for your album had been to collaborate with multiple artists for about fifty percent of your album, while the other fifty percent would only feature you. What ended up happening was slightly different.

The more songs Eddie saw, the more passionate he became about the message you were working to convey through your lyrics. He ended up reworking every single song with you in a completely collaborative process, where he never overstepped, never tried to take over- simply understood what you were trying to say and added the extra ‘oomph’ each song had been needing to truly become what you had envisioned.

“I feel like I really can’t just call this my album now, Eddie, you’ve contributed way more to this to just be credited as a featured artist-”

You’d first voiced concerns about how to credit Eddie in the album a few days into your songwriting spree. It became an easy routine, Eddie would come over first thing in the morning, and the two of you would sit in your living room working through your songs and ordering takeout until the sun set.

“Well it’s not a collaboration album with Corroded Coffin,” Eddie had replied, sticking a bite of noodles into his mouth. The two of you had been seated at your kitchen table, white boxes of Chinese food, napkins, and torn chopstick wrappers decorating the space between you. “Those fuckers haven’t even met you, they don’t get credit for anything they ain’t playing on.”

“But I’m talking about you.” you pushed, “If we keep going the way we’ve been, you’re going to be a vital part of the composition for every track on this album! I’m not going to let you avoid credit for that.” you gazed at him, unable to hide the admiration you’d begun to feel for the artist at your table. “Let me list you as a composer for every track you help me with. We already know you and your band will be featured on Eat Me and Freak, so obviously you’ll be credited for those…”

As you continued to ramble on about how Eddie would be credited for each and every song lyric he suggested, he got distracted looking at the way your hair glinted slightly different shades of blue in the sunlight that filtered in through your balcony window. His eyes followed the light along your skin, taking in the way it glistened off the dewey shine on your cheekbone, how it shone directly into the corner of your eye so that colors he had never noticed were brought to the surface of your irises…

This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had gotten distracted watching you rant about something you were passionate about. He knew he was supposed to be listening, that it was very important that he knew what your songs were about, that he understood the details of your plans for the album so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself later- but dammit, you were just so pretty. Really fucking pretty, it was hard for him not to get distracted. Initially, this whole collaboration had just been something that Eddie’s publicist had suggested for getting the newer generation listening to Corroded Coffin in time for their new album to drop at the end of the summerl, so when Eddie had first waltzed into your apartment he’d been expecting a kid; an innocent, teeny-bopper sort of persona. He hadn’t expected a loud, firecracker of a woman with hair the color of his old denim jacket.

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware that he was old enough to be your father. You were what- twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Definitely under thirty. And here he was, pushing forty-seven with a salt and pepper shadow on his jawline. The hair on his head hadn’t started graying yet (he dreaded the day that he would have to use *gulp* hair dye) but he knew it was only a matter of time. For him to be ogling you like this? It would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew how often his eyes forgot to look away when you left the room. What was that old saying? Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave-

“Eddie?”

Shit. He’d missed an entire conversation, hadn’t he?

He gave you his best apologetic smile, which didn’t work at all. You sighed, hanging your head low exasperatedly. “You didn’t hear a word of that did you?”

“Not a word, zoned out.”

You threw a fortune cookie at him.

***

You and Eddie didn’t see each other for a while after recording the album. Eddie was there with the rest of Corroded Coffin to record the two tracks that they were featured in for the album, but after that plus a few guitar parts Eddie had been kind enough to record for some other songs, the two of you hadn’t had a reason to see each other.

That was why you were so nervous for tonight.

After working all summer and the better part of the fall, the album was finally finished. Copies of CDs and special edition vinyl were already being shipped out to music stores across the country and set to hit shelves in a week, so tonight was the kickoff event for your publicity tour: you would be joining Corroded Coffin tonight onstage for a surprise performance of Eat Me and Freak. Tonight was October 31st, and premiering those songs on Halloween with the metal king that helped you make them the masterpieces they were? This was just one of those moments when the stars aligned poetically.

You looked yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before heading to sound check. It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Eddie, but that wouldn’t matter, right? You’d spent a whole week workshopping incredibly personal- in some cases, intimately personal- songs with the guy, so singing onstage with him shouldn’t be a big deal. You were a professional, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t performed in over two years, you could do this. Never mind the fact that this was the first performance of the rest of your career; never mind that sometimes the way Eddie looked at you make you feel like your knees were about to buckle; never mind that Eddie Munson, rock god and sex symbol of the metal world, was going to be within touching distance the moment you set foot on that stage…

A knock at the door of your tiny dressing room startled you, along with a voice letting you know that sound check was about to begin. Decisively, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the stage before you could psych yourself out any more.

When you got to the stage, Eddie was the first person you laid eyes on. He smiled at you, dark curls flying around his face and forming a sinful-looking halo around his face as he gave you a friendly nod- god, he was gorgeous. Waving back at him, you returned the nod and grinned. You wouldn’t be going on until the end of their set, so you situated yourself on an empty stool backstage with a view of the band.

Their practice was fascinating to watch, how all four of the band members were so obviously masters of their craft, each ear trained to notice any imperfection in the way their instruments sounded through the stereos. Every once in a while, Eddie would look your way out the corner of his eye, just to check if you were still watching; you always were. Whenever he saw you looking directly at him, never glancing down at your phone or at the other band members (besides the odd look thrown in Gareth Emerson’s direction; the way his curls bounced was honestly hypnotic), he’d hold your eye contact, smirk into the microphone, and continue to belt out the lyrics to his songs with a smidge more cockiness than he had been prior.

When the time finally came for you to join them, you took a deep breath and strutted to where Eddie stood in the center of the stage. No one had handed you a mic, so you weren’t sure where you were supposed to stand until Eddie moved aside to make room for you at his mic stand.

You looked questioningly at Eddie. “You don’t need your mic?”

He chuckled, placing a hand on the small of your back as he put his lips to your ear. You figured he was just trying to avoid the mic picking up his voice, but the hand on your back… that was new. Was this a move? Was Eddie Munson making a move? On you?

Oh.

That’s a fun development.

“This one’s all you, darlin’.” Eddie said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ll stay out of your way. Also-” He pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, and your lips must have been a little too close to the mic because it picked up your fucking gasp. You jerked your head away from the mic, cursing yourself for being so nervous.

Eddie definitely noticed, but all he did was chuckle, still staring at you with giant doe eyes framed by smile lines and bushy brown eyebrows. “-it’s good to see you, popstar.” There was no condescension in his tone this time; all you could find in his gaze was kind, genuine joy that you were here, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Confidently, you gripped the mic with both hands, smirking at Eddie through your side eye. You didn’t bother leaning away from the mic when you replied, sprinkling sultry into your voice. If Eddie Munson was trying to drop a hint, you wanted him to know you were receiving it.

“It’s good to see you too, rockstar.”

***

Mic check went flawlessly, which meant it was time for you and the band to eat in the green room while fans began lining up outside the venue, waiting for the doors to open.

You had a couple drinks with the band while biding your time before you had to get dressed for the show. Much to your delight, Eddie never left your side the whole time. You had been close to him in your living room day after day when you’d worked on your songs, but this was different; you kept noticing little glances and touches that spoke louder than words- how his hands lingered longer than expected, never missing a chance to touch your arm or place a hand on your back to guide you as you walked. How his eyes were most focused whenever he was looking at you, and he never seemed to give you passing glances- every look he gave you was intense and purposeful, it made you shiver in a very good way. When he and the band left to get ready for showtime, he took a moment to check on how you were before leaving to go to his dressing room.

“You nervous?” he asked. There wasn’t any judgment there, just concern for you.

“Yes,” you admitted, “But I think I’ve got it.”

Eddie smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. “Oh I know you’ve got it, angel.”

You caught his wrist, holding it to your shoulder before he could retract it. Turning to him, you batted your eyes a bit before raising an eyebrow. “Angel, huh?”

Eddie inclined his head, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “What, should I switch back to sweetheart?”

You smirked. “Only if you wanna make me mad.”

It took everything in you not to shrink back from him as he leaned forward, practically glowering over you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have decided against it. You saw his tongue poke into the inside of his cheek as he nodded to himself, eyes narrowing further as if he were having a whole conversation within his head that you weren’t privy to. Finally, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you let him go, staring at him with every ounce of confidence you could muster.

“...I’ll remember that, popstar.” he said, voice low and gravelly and sure to throw you into a coma if he said the right words with that voice at the right time. You didn’t let him see how much he was affecting you, though- save for a little grin that you couldn’t hide as he smirked at you and walked away.

When he exited the green room- and you were sure you were alone- you finally let out a breath that you’d been holding for what seemed like entire minutes. You grabbed your drink, chugging down the rest of your liquid courage in the hopes that it might also cool you down a bit.

***

The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and the gravity of what was about to happen was starting to get to you.

Corroded Coffin was about to start the song that would be your cue to join them. You stood in the wings like you had during sound check, this time fussing over your outfit to ensure every piece was in place. The fact that it was Halloween combined with the tone of your new album had influenced your wardrobe choice for the evening- ripped black jeans that were more rip than jean, a strappy black bustier top with a plethora of silver buckles that decorating the surface of your bodice where the sides attached at your sternum, fishnet fingerless gloves, and your favorite part of the outfit: the biggest platform boots you’d ever owned. You remembered seeing them and falling in love immediately with the straps that decorated the entirety of the shoe, as well as the silver buckles on each strap that matched your top like a dream. Paired with your blue hair, you looked strikingly goth and nearly unrecognizable from the girl your fans remembered.

When Eddie announced you onstage, you had to take a deep breath before joining him out there. Slow inhale, slow exhale… and then you were overtaken with hot stage lights.

Out on the stage, you could really take in the size of this crowd- it was far larger than what you were used to, and when they realized who you were, they went wild. You couldn’t help but be intimidated until you felt Eddie’s hand gently grounding you as it ghosted the skin on your back.

His lips tickled your ear as he leaned in and whispered in your ear out of range from the mic, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.”

You felt a flare of indignation intertwined with delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little evilly into the mic at this little shit of a rockstar.

He did that on purpose.

You looked at him with the biggest smirk on your face, and it matched the smug, sultry grin on his. Silently, he nodded at the audience as if to say ‘Well? They’re waiting.’

You looked over your shoulder at Jeff on the bass, nodded, and right on cue as Jeff began the first note of the song, the entire stage was flooded with scarlet light.

***

Eddie could tell you were nervous. Flirting with you probably wasn’t helping, and for all he knew, he might even be making you uncomfortable.

However…

Over the years, Eddie’s gotten more perceptive when it came to the subtleties of body language. He didn’t miss the fact that you’d been leaning into every touch he ghosted over your skin, no matter how overt or fleeting those touches might have been. He’d seen the change in your eye contact when it lingered a little longer than necessary- that shift from attentive to intrigued, even a little wanting at times.

The only question was what you wanted, and Eddie was really hoping it was him.

As he watched you take his place at the mic, standing monochrome in scarlet light, he bit his lip as he tried to hold back the salacious grin that slid across his lips; he was unsuccessful.

Eddie hit his guitar part easily as you purred the lyrics that the two of you had slaved over into your microphone.

Be more predictable

Be less political

Not too original

Keep to tradition, but stay individual

Thrusting ever so slightly with his warlock, Eddie channeled the rage and rebellion of your lyrics into every word, smirking with the next few lines- they had been one of the first additions to the song that he’d made, and you more than did them justice.

Dirty but washable

Winning but stoppable

All that I’m hearing is

You wanna make the impossible possible

Even though you’d been nervous earlier, it looked like you’d been able to shake it all off. Confidence was rolling off you like waves, strength in your comfort onstage practically seeping out of your pores. Eddie felt proud, yes, but mostly? He was turned the fuck on by it. His eyes never left you as you carefully removed the mic from its stand and leisurely strode to the edge of the stage as you sang the next lines, punctuating the last with a little shake of your head and a comically disgusted wrinkle of your nose.

Is this what you’d all prefer?

Would you like me better if I was still her?

Did she make your mouths water?

Ugh.

Just like you’d practiced, flashing white lights littered the stage right on cue when the drums opened up the chorus, and you belted those lyrics with all the anger and exasperation that he knew you’d felt when you’d written them. You were a force to be reckoned with- this was that girl he’d met when he’d walked into your apartment acting like a jackass; this was the firecracker of a woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought.

I know the part I’ve played before

I know the shit that I’ve ignored

I know the girl that you adored

She’s dead, it’s time to fucking mourn

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

Dinner’s served, it’s on the floor

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

You dropped to a crouch, for the end of the chorus, legs bent but spread slightly, and flashing lights glinted off the metal buckles of your platform boots. Your voice ripped from your chest as you belted into the mic.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

Eddie was incredibly grateful for the crouch you’d dropped into, because it gave him a view of your ass that was so perfect, he actually groaned. Swooned, practically. Thank god you had his mic and the music was loud enough that no one noticed. He hoped. However, anyone with eyes could probably see that he was basically undressing you with his gaze right now, so he really needed to get it together unless he wanted to be on a front page tomorrow for the wrong reasons. He cringed, imagining the headline Munson Ogles Popstar Half His Age. Mid-Life Crisis? Yeah. His publicist would love that one.

You stood back up, stalking the edge of the stage as you sang the second verse. When you were about halfway through, you turned to look over your shoulder at Eddie, and it just about knocked the breath from his lungs. Your eyes- lined in black and zeroing in on him like something out of his metalhead fantasies- smoldered like embers on the edge of a cigarette as you sang the second half of the verse to him.

Longer hair and tighter clothes

Would you like me better if I didn’t oppose?

Silver platters, pretty bows…

You were at his side now, turned sideways from the crowd so you were facing him as he turned to face you in tandem. About a foot away from each other, the only thing between you was his guitar, thankfully big enough to hide the way his hard-on was quickly growing harder with every moment you looked at him with those eyes.

Your expression shifted, eyes rolling as you threw your head back in mock boredom, amping the lines up to the extreme. As you lifted your head back up, you looked at him with the brattiest fucking face Eddie had ever seen as you delivered the final line of the verse into the mic.

…Fuck.

And then you smirked, tip of your tongue peeking out of your lips and you winked at him.

Fucking. Winked.

Ohhhhhh, you were doing this on purpose. You had to be.

And Eddie couldn’t do shit about it, because you were in the middle of a performance, on stage, jumping around in platform boots and screaming the chorus into your mic like fucking banshee. So he channeled every ounce of sexual frustration into shredding the fuck out of his guitar and staring you down, salivating at the way you blazed on that stage like a witch at the stake. Then, about halfway through that chorus, at the edge of the stage and working the crowd for all they could give you, Eddie just about had a heart attack.

Because you dropped to your fucking knees.

You let the music take control of you, screaming ‘I can’t spoon-feed you anymore’ into the mic, you dropped down to one knee followed by the other as you delivered the final lines before Eddie’s solo.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

You held your last note long and loud, widening your knees and leaning into a backbend that didn’t stop until your upper back touched the stage behind you. Eddie was amazed that he was even able to remember his part when you were in front of him doing that. Jesus Christ.

Eddie continued to play, and he saw you crane your neck just in time to make eye contact with him as you delivered the next line of the song. You brought the mic to your lips, your knees still spread open and your spine deliciously arched.

Choke on it!

God…you were gonna kill him.

You pushed yourself back into a kneeling position, facing the audience. As Eddie’s guitar solo became more complex, and his playing more impressive, your jaw dropped as you looked to the audience and fanned yourself, as if you were all sharing a joint reaction of ‘wow, are you guys hearing this too?!’. Eyes crinkling from your smile, you brought the mic to your mouth again.

Choke on it!

Once you were back on your feet, you stood at ease in the center of the stage as you waited out Eddie’s solo. When he finished, you stared down the crowd as you delivered the last chorus. At this point, Eddie could see some of the spectators mouthing the words along with you, and his chest swelled with pride at your ability to win over a crowd that hadn’t even been expecting you on stage. Hell, knowing his fans, most of them were probably older than you by several years, and yet here they were singing your song.

When you drew your first breath after the final note, the crowd went wild. He expected you to be staring at them, soaking up the energy of a satisfied throng of fans, but no- immediately, your eyes were on him, an ear-to-ear smile stretching across your face. You had just absolutely killed your first song performed in two years, and you wanted to share your joy with him before you shared it with anyone else.

Eddie couldn’t help but mirror your smile- it was the least he could do, after the way you just made his heart swell to triple its usual size. He took a few steps over to where Jeff stood with his bass, nodding to the mic in a silent question, to which Jeff gladly stepped aside.

“If this is what happens when you take a two-year hiatus,” Eddie said slyly into the mic, “then maybe you should do it more often, rockstar.”

The crowd cheered again, and you looked caught off guard by his calling you rockstar instead of popstar. To Eddie, it made perfect sense- tonight, there was nothing pop about you. You were rock & roll incarnate, his equal in every single way. You took a few steps back until you and he were the same distance from the edge of the stage, and as long as he was speaking, your eyes never left him.

“So I’ve been working with this absolute badass on an album- well no, I’m giving myself way too much credit, she wrote an album, I plucked a few guitar strings, yada yada yada-” You giggled as Eddie reminded the crowd of your name, loud and clear, so they knew who to look up on Spotify later. “-anyway, her album drops in a week, that last song you heard was called…”

Eddie looked at you with expectant eyes and a devilish smile. He wanted to hear you say it. Just for fun. He enjoyed being a little shit.

You smirked into your mic. “Eat Me.”

The crowd cheered again, all it took was hearing you say two little words. Eddie knew the feeling.

“We’ve got one more before our lovely guest has to leave the stage, and this one is my personal favorite off the album.” Eddie started warming up with a couple chords from the song before adding, “This is Freak.”

You had replaced the mic into its stand at center stage, which was where Eddie headed to meet you. During sound check, you had asked him if he would need his own mic for this one, but Eddie- selfishly- had said it was no problem, and he didn’t mind sharing. That was a drastic understatement though, since he would happily leap at any excuse to have his lips close to yours in any capacity at all.

You smiled at him, and you were doing that thing again- that thing where you looked at him like you were giving him a dare. That thing where you touched the tip of your tongue to your upper lip.

Eddie wanted to bite that lip.

Instead, he smoldered down at you as he began the opening chords to Freak.

***

You may not have been sure about Eddie’s feelings before tonight, but you were now.

He wanted you. Bad. So bad, you felt high off the lust that was rolling off the man beside you.

You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wanted to do so many things to you here and now, but due to the giant crowd before you that wasn’t an option. The power trip of knowing that every move you made was driving him crazy and he couldn’t do shit about it made you feel bratty as fuck, and you channeled every ounce of that into each word of your next song.

Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sultry lyrics take over, arms bending as you brought them up to dance above your head as you stretched your neck back. Your pose mimicked the way you might have stretched across a bed, arching your back slightly in a way that you knew would make Eddie’s mind wander to all the right places.

Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven-sent

As the tempo picked up for the bridge, your lips brushed the mic and you bounced slightly to the beat. Looking up at Eddie, you felt your chest tighten when you saw how blown his pupils were as they zeroed in on you. There was nothing silly or flirty in his gaze now- this was lust, want, need… it was predatory in a way that made you shiver.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freak go crazy.

Eddie’s guitar launched into the chorus with you, both of your mouths breaking your little standoff by smiling because you couldn’t help yourselves- performing together, this close, singing lyrics that the two of you connected with- you were having so much fun.

Am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat

Take a bite just to watch me bleed

Freak

Say what you want and what you want is behind your teeth

Ain’t gotta spell it out for me

Freak

Now Eddie’s lips were the ones on the mic, his throaty voice tearing through the air in a way that made you stop short from its power alone. He sang the first two lines on his own-

Bait me, you can cage me

Even plate me, I don’t care

You joined him for the bridge on one side of the mic while his mouth remained in place at the other, and his voice dropped down to his chest to create a sound that was more growl than song. He sounded demonic, feral- damn, you wanted to jump his bones right now.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freaks go crazy

As you both sang the chorus together this time, your eye contact across the microphone was charged with feelings reflected as though you were looking in a mirror. Anticipation for what would happen after this show was building with every lyric, and as he growled his lines into the mic you wondered what the headline would be if you stuck your tongue down his throat right now.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how you wanted to start this next leg of your career- at least publicly. Different time, different place. Like, say, in about thirty minutes. In your dressing room. Against a wall, preferably.

When you finished the chorus, Eddie shredded through his guitar solo like a bat out of hell, even improvised a scream into the mic that made your jaw drop yet again. Upon hearing it, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh, hopping up and down in your platform boots and headbanging along with him. After he’d finished, you took hold of the mic stand with both hands and began chanting repeating lines that would take you through to the next chorus before ending the song.

Came from the trauma, stayed for the drama

You sang the line twice before Eddie joined you for the third and fourth repetition, that deep, ripping croon tearing its way through his throat and out of his plush pink lips less than an inch from yours. You wanted to turn your head and look at him so badly, but you were so close that you’d be locking lips if you did.

As you both sang the final chorus, you pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet; you were rewarded with lust blown umber eyes, sweat-soaked curls framing a face as timeless as music itself, and a grin that sparked pure joy in your very soul.

If this guy can fuck, you might just fall for him.

Eddie prompted the audience to cheer for you one more time after the song was over, shooting you a smile as he brought you in for a friendly hug. He was in front of thousands; you knew his hands would remain in strictly G-rated areas (unfortunately), but he did whisper in your ear out of range from the mic.

“Wait for me in your dressing room.”

Bingo.

You thought about following his lead- waiting patiently in your dressing room for him to finish up his show then have his way with you- but you had a better idea. You tilted your head up quickly to bring your lips up to his ear, your clear lip gloss catching its shell.

“I’m gonna keep watching you in the wings- you can do whatever you want after that.”

Your eyes met as you pulled away, and you let yourself revel for a moment at the way he looked at you- like he wanted to, well…eat you. Eyes so dark they were almost black under the stage lights, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. Again, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline from driving him crazy when he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it; you were beginning to think you might be addicted.

As Corroded Coffin finished their set, you stayed offstage and did exactly what you said you would- you watched Eddie every second. You were like a sponge soaking up every flip of his hair, every deft movement of his fingers as they flew across the frets of his guitar. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick to where you stood, checking to see if you were still there, which of course you were. Each time he saw you, you watched as he shook his head again, or rolled his eyes, or- in one case which almost resulted in you melting into a puddle on the floor- maintaining eye contact as he belted out lyrics to songs he wrote, with a gaze so smoldering it felt as if there were no one in the whole arena but the two of you. With every minute, every note, every song- you felt him spinning a web around you like a spider trapping its prey, and you willingly anticipated the moment he would finally storm off the stage and drink you dry.

And that’s exactly what he did.

The last song ended, and Eddie wasted no time in ripping his guitar from his torso, handing it to a roadie without a second glance and grabbing you by the hand. You didn’t protest as he pulled you into a corner backstage away from any prying eyes. Before you could think a coherent thought besides Wow, I’m wet, Eddie took both your wrists in his strong, ring-dappled hands and slammed them above your head against the wall. His eyes, black with lust and wolfishly hungry, bored into yours as he used the last ounce of restraint to hold himself back long enough to ask the vital question, “Tell me, you want this?”

He bit the words out; growled them into your face as your eyes widened, desire painting your expression a gorgeous shade of pathetic as you nodded desperately. A deep groan sounded from his chest as Eddie pressed his pelvis against yours, and you gasped at how hard he was. “Words, sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

That familiar flare of indignation in your chest mingled with the flames in your core that burned for all he had to give you. Your eyes shifted, screaming rebellion that harmonized with the submission that your body so desperately craved. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a mocking half-smile. “Fuck yes, I want it, what do you think I was bouncing around out there for-”

His lips murmured a “Fucking Christ,” as he cut your sentence short, smashing his needy mouth against your burgeoning smirk. His arms crumbled as he finally felt the release of his skin on yours, caging you in as his forearms collapsed against the wall, hands still closed around your wrists. His biceps flexed, framing your faces as he all but devoured you in a kiss that was so wanting, so possessive- it claimed you. It ruined all kisses that came before it and would ever follow it.

He was ruining you, and you committed the way his whole body covered yours and made you feel both safe and coveted to memory, imprinting it on your mind knowing that you would probably never feel this wanted ever again.

Then, just as soon as he was on you, his touch lifted away.

A needy whine escaped your lips before you could hold it back. Eddie slotted his tattooed hand into the space where your neck met your jawline, thumb caressing your skin as he smiled sweetly down at you- but his eyes were anything but sweet.

“I gotta go back out for the encore. Go take these off-” you melted into his touch as his other hand played with the buckles at the front of your top. His hand at your neck crept back, taking your chin between his thumb and the middle knuckles of his forefinger as if he were scolding a child.

“-and wait in your dressing room.”

Your eyelids were heavy, and you smirked as you opened your mouth to argue-

“And don’t fucking argue with me.”

You bit the reply into your bottom lip- you could save the brattiness for later. Just as Eddie had begun to pull away, his eyes dropped to your teeth on your lip and in half a second he was on you again.

He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the soft skin before biting down firm enough to set off your mental alarms yet soft enough that you didn’t feel any pain from it. He pulled away once more, letting your lip go with a little pop.

“Been wanting to do that all night.” Eddie said, his shit-eating grin back in full force as he winked at you and jogged back to the stage. You stayed put for a second, smiling like an idiot as you heard the roar of the crowd, imagining what Eddie must look like while he returned to the stage with lips pink and swollen from his attempt at eating you alive. No one would know why he looked out of breath and a little extra happy… but you would.

You’d never walked as fast in your life as you did in that moment, making a beeline for your dressing room, fingers already beginning to work on the buckles at your sternum.

***

When Eddie opened the door to your dressing room about ten minutes later, the gigantic grin on his face fell instantly when he saw you lounging on the couch in the same clothes you’d been wearing during sound check, sans your oversized skull sweatshirt. Your black shorts and knit tank top still showed plenty of skin, but he had explicitly told you to take off your clothes and wait for him. You were still in the mood to brat out, apparently.

You looked up at him from your phone, smiling sweetly with challenging eyes. “Hi.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as it shut. “Hi.” he mimicked, crossing his inked forearms over his chest. He stared at you silently, expectantly.

You raised an eyebrow, coyly pretending not to know what he was being so pissy about. “What?”

Eddie pushed off the door, walking towards you at a pace that was agonizingly slow. “You know what.”

You huffed haughtily, looking back at your phone and pretending to be more interested in your screen than the man who’d had you panting up against a wall ten minutes ago. “Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, I’m not a mind reader.”

It didn’t take Eddie long to cross the expanse of your tiny dressing room, deftly sliding the phone from your hands and placing it on a low table beside the couch. “Should’ve known you weren’t listening earlier,” Eddie tsked and shook his head in disappointment. “I know you were a little distracted back there, sweetheart, but when I told you to take your clothes off, I meant it.”

You sighed as Eddie stared down at you from where he stood, towering over you as you laid back against the couch cushions. His gaze devoured you piece by piece as it roved over your wide eyes, glossy lips- your shoulders still shining from sweat after giving your all to the stage, your chest as it rose and fell with your quickening breath.

“Well,” you purred, like a cat who knew they were the center of attention and didn’t mind it in the slightest. “You didn’t say not to put on clothes after I took the other ones off…”

As you spoke he leaned forward, placing a knee on the couch between your legs so that your heat was only inches from his thigh. His hands splayed across your rib cage, admiring the stark contrast between his ink-covered hands and your soft, cream-colored shirt. It was thin enough to see… wait, were you-?

Eddie smirked, a breathy laugh escaping through his nose as he pulled the fabric taut, confirming his suspicions that yep, you weren’t wearing a bra.

Oblivious to Eddie’s train of thought, you continued, “...if you wanted me to just wait here for you naked then you should’ve been more specif-”

Rrrrriiiiipp!

Your jaw dropped, cold air hitting your bare breasts without warning as Eddie tore your shirt open. You squealed, your shocked voice jumping up several octaves. “Eddie!” but your eyes told a different story. You were pissed, but the anger you felt was nothing compared to how fucking hot he looked after doing something as dominant and unexpected as ripping your fucking clothes off.

He raised his eyebrows, giving you a moment to push him away in case he had gone too far- but you didn’t. Instead, you narrowed your eyes up at him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, pressing your cleavage together the way you knew would drive him nuts. “That was fucking Gucci!” you pouted.

Eddie laughed, taking your crossed arms and shoving them up above your head over the arm of the couch as he mockingly imitated your high-pitched “‘That was fucking Gucci!’” he lowered himself over you, bringing his face to the hollow of your neck, and you heard him inhale the scent of you from your collarbone to your ear. He wrapped his lips around the underside of your ear and sucked, then bit, savoring your little moan at the sensation. His mouth met your ear as he growled, “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just done as you were told, instead of being a little fucking brat.”

Eddie pulled back, sitting up on his knee that was still slotted between your legs as he cupped his hands around your naked breasts. He kneaded them, played with you like he was testing out a brand new toy. He addressed you without looking up into your eyes as he continued to paw at your chest. “You gonna be a good girl now and do what I tell you to?”

You raised your eyebrows, amused that he expected your submission so quickly. Smugly, you looked up at him through narrowed eyes, placing your hands behind your head like a pillow and sighed petulantly.

“Fucking bite me.”

His eyes snapped up at you, thick with predatory disbelief at your cheek even when he had you half naked beneath you. He’d been challenged before, sure- but at this point, when he had his woman pinned down and moaning under him, he was usually the undisputed decision-maker during sex. The smile that bloomed across his lips was devilish, almost like there was a beast within him that had been kept safely under lock and key- until you’d said that.

Eddie was on you, grabbing one breast and enveloping the nipple in a harsh suck of his lips, biting down on the little nub hard. You gasped, the sound a lewd, sharp moan that brought out a laugh in him so nefarious it gave you chills. He looked up at you with eyes alight with amusement and feral need that shook you to your core.

“Oh, baby-” he laughed, crawling up until his face hovered over yours. “-I’m gonna have some fucking fun with you.”

Taking your face in his hands, Eddie Munson kissed you like it was what he had been put on God’s green earth to do. His lips moved against yours with a beautiful mix of urgency and devotion, like you could just tell that right here, right now, there was nothing else he cared about except making sure you knew exactly how badly he wanted- needed- to make you his. He slowly lowered the rest of his body until his pelvis was flat against yours, grinding into your clothed heat and exploiting the chink in your brat armor that was the his fucking size.

You bucked your hips up into him, craving friction as you moaned into his mouth. Eddie chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “What’s the matter baby, you need something?”

You pouted against him, moving a hand to reach between the two of you and palm him through his jeans, but he knocked your hand out of the way, continuing to dry hump you to insanity. You whined as he bit your pouting lip, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue slipped into yours. It explored you, tasting you as your tongue happily let him in. You felt his hand creep down your torso, giving your abused, bitten tit a little squeeze before traveling further down to the button of your shorts.

He undid the button with ease before you registered that he was taking off your clothes after he had denied you access to do the same to him. “Hey,” you panted, reaching for him, “you first, that’s not fair. I’m nearly naked and you haven’t even taken off your shirt.”

Eddie chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. “Fair?” he asked, “Since when did you want to play fair?” He reached back down to your shorts, button already undone, and gently pulled down the zipper. “You were the one out there- as you said- ‘bouncing around’-” His hands raked up your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts and slowly tugged them down as you lifted your hips slightly so he could remove them smoothly. Eddie smirked; NOW she does what I want her to do. “-knowing full well I couldn’t do a damn thing about it… and that fucking wink-” His eyes rolled back in his head just imagining it. He groaned as he pulled your shorts from your feet and discarded them on the floor. “-what the fuck was that, huh? Trying to get a rise out of me, baby?”

You giggled, bubbly laughter floating into a breathy sigh as Eddie’s finger traced the line of your slit through your panties. “Hmmmmm, like it when you call me baby.” you hummed.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh you do?” His finger traveled up over the fabric, and he chuckled when you bucked up into his touch as the pad of his finger passed over your clit. That finger slipped under the elastic waistband of your panties, pulling it upwards off your skin as far as it could stretch. “You’re entirely too happy right now,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He let go of the elastic, making you jump with a breathy whimper as it hit your skin with a soft sting. “I’m switching back to sweetheart.”

You whined and he laughed as he continued to play with the elastic on your panties. He stared at them, entranced, before a wolfish grin took up residence on his face. “You like these?” he asked, and you knew where this was going right away.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “How kind of you to ask this time.”

The grin grew, and he took the crotch of your panties into his fist, grabbing the fabric above it with his other hand to do the same. You ground your hips against his knuckles as they brushed your pussy, already soaked and eager for any friction you could get. “Yeah, you know what,” he voiced, as if he were simply thinking out loud. “I don’t really care if you like them or not.”

And with that, another article of clothing was ripped to shreds by Eddie Munson and his stupid, tattooed, ring-covered, sexy-as-fuck hands.

This time you couldn’t even be offended; you were just fucking feral at this point. While he was still distracted by your panties, you quickly shoved yourself up to a kneeling position, startling him enough that he moaned into the fervent kiss that crashed into his mouth. The two of you knelt on the couch cushions, hands grabbing at fabric desperately in a quest to make your skin connect at every square inch you had. Eddie allowed you to pull his shirt over his head, and the shallow breath you had left was instantly knocked from your lungs when you took in the ink that decorated his torso. Some tattoos were old and faded almost blue, while others looked newer- song lyrics, mythical creatures, hellish images adorned his skin like a tapestry that belonged in a museum- but it was here, under your hands. All for you. You couldn’t hold yourself back from bending down a little lower, sliding your tongue up his sternum over the masterpieces scarred into his skin and licking a long, broad stripe from his chest until you reached the tip of his chin. You felt him shiver, arms tightening around you after shoving the remains of your tank top over your shoulders. You started to push him back, planning to open his pants and show him what else you could do with your tongue- but Eddie wasn’t about to let you be on top after the way you’d been acting all night.

“Mm-mm, nope.” he mumbled, stepping off the couch.

“I’m just trying to suck your cock, baby. Please?” You looked up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, widening your legs as you knelt on the couch facing him, squishing your boobs together in that way that usually got you exactly what you wanted. For some reason, Eddie was immune.

He placed his hand along your neck, thumb and forefinger squeezing just enough for him to feel your pulse. The way your eyes widened, looking up at him the same way you had when he’d shoved you up against a wall earlier- it brought a satisfied hum out of Eddie, and he loved the way he could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. There was no hiding what you felt when his hand was wrapped around your throat.

“You like calling me baby, sweetheart?”

You gulped. He felt it, of course, and he had to hold back a laugh- you looked so cute like this. Made him want to break you just to see what you’d be like when he picked up the pieces.

Your eyes were blown wide, like a hunted fox with nowhere to run. “Is that okay? Can I call you baby?”

His face crumpled- god, you were adorable. Eddie smiled sympathetically, “Oh you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart-” His thumb moved up to your bottom lip, stroking gently before working it into your mouth; he groaned, head thrown back when he felt your soft, wet tongue swirl around his digit and coat it with your spit.

“-don’t care what you’re calling me as long as you know I own your ass tonight.”

And then you moaned- oh, you fucking moaned his name around his finger in your mouth, and his cock twitched at the way it sounded. He wanted to record that, play it on loop, put it in a fucking song, hell- anything for him to be able to listen to it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to hear it, to know it was his name on your fucking tongue.

His thumb ripped from your mouth, replaced by his middle and ring finger, delving surprisingly deep into your mouth as you gagged around them. Your tongue quickly resumed its previous motions, lapping at his thick fingers and sliding over, under, around, between them. You reveled in the taste of metal as you tongued his silver rings. You gasped when he removed his fingers before, without warning, he slid them into your weeping pussy.

Your expression was beautifully obscene, eyes wide with surprise while your mouth- glistening with spit from his fingers leaving in a rush- fallen open in a silent scream. Eddie thrust his fingers up and into you repeatedly, forcing you open wider and wider with the rapid motion.

“Actually, I changed my mind,” Eddie grit into your ear, “I don’t wanna hear anything but my goddamn name leave that pretty ‘lil mouth until I’m done with you, aright?”

You were moaning, but evidently that was still not enough to deter you from being your snarky self. “Well that’s unrealistic, I’ll probably say more than just tha- ah! Oh fuck-!”

Eddie’s pace was relentless, fingers ripping through you with a vengeance as he muttered “Bratty little slut-” spearing you over and over as you sped toward the white-hot precipice that wasn’t quite release, but certainly what Eddie intended to pull out of you.

You moaned as what felt like a dam within you suddenly gave way, flooding your inner thighs, Eddie’s hand, and the couch beneath you. Eddie smiled wide, the muscles in his arm screaming pointlessly- he wasn’t going to stop until you’d given him every last drop there was to give.

“-yeah, not so bratty when you’re squirting all over my hand, are you baby? What, are you trying to say something? Spit it out, popstar-”

The noises tumbling from your lips were anything but coherent, Eddie knew that. He just kept grinning like a kid in a candy store as you babbled sounds that might have been his name, might have been a prayer, might have just been yes, yes, yes, Eddie, god yes!

Whatever it was, it was music to his ears.

Eddie looped his arms under your knees, pulling you into a sitting position with your legs wide open. Dropping to his knees, he stared at your spread pussy, glistening with the slick he’d just wrestled from you. His hands, wet with all you’d given him, grasped your thighs firmly but gently as he looked up into your eyes. It might have been the post-orgasmic haze you were experiencing, but for a second, Eddie looked at you with nothing in his eyes but care and admiration. His gaze shone like sunlight as he looked up at you, your stomach creasing from the crunch position he'd placed you in, your breasts rising and falling with each breath- the way he stared at you made you feel like an angel.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he whispered, hands squeezing your thighs affectionately. Before you could even react, his tongue was on you, lapping away at your soaked pussy. You mewled, head thrown back and spine arching as unraveled you from the inside out. He traced endless intricate shapes over your clit, your lips, your hole- thoughts flew from your brain as you let his mouth drive you fucking wild. His ministrations slowed at one point, causing you to open your eyes- you couldn’t even remember when you’d closed them- and look up at Eddie.

Upon looking up, you were blessed with the sight of Eddie Munson, close-cut beard soaked with your slick, shirtless, pantsless, and currently pulling off his black boxers to reveal a cock that made you salivate on sight.

You let your brattiness fly out the window- there would be time for more of it later, but right now you needed that cock in one of your holes and you didn’t quite care which one.

Eddie stroked himself leisurely, eyes boring down into yours the whole time. “Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

You spread your legs open wider for him. “Please.” you whined.

Eddie shook his head, disappointed, sinking to his knees again. “See, this is what I knew would happen,” he murmured, sliding a finger around your clit at a torturously slow pace. “I can’t believe you got fucked stupid already and I didn’t even have to use my cock, those were just my fingers, baby.” From the slick sounds you heard from below your line of sight, you knew that he was jerking himself off as he played with your pussy. It was enough to pull a desperate moan from your throat. He licked one flat, wet stripe from your opening to your clit before murmuring against you, “Can’t even use your words and tell me what you want, sweet girl’s been fucked too dumb to make decisions, is that right?”

You found yourself nodding ‘yes’, the dirty words flying out of his mouth in rapid succession throwing your brain into overdrive. He was right; you barely had the brain capacity to think right now, much less match his attitude with snark. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever he planned on doing next.

Eddie clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked at you pityingly. “That’s right, don’t worry baby I’ll just make all the decisions now, okay?” He rose, leaning over you as he placed a knee to your side and stroked himself, lining up his fully hard cock at your entrance. Your heartbeat quickened, excitement and anticipation building now that you knew his cock would be inside you soon. You mewled as his tip stroked your slit, up and down and up and down again… and stopping at your hole, hovering outside you.

You looked up at him desperately, only to breathe in sharply upon seeing his devilish grin paired with coal-black lust-blown eyes.

“Beg for it.”

You sighed so heavy it became a sob, frustrated and scrunching up your face like you were ready to throw a tantrum.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined.

“There she is.” he murmured.

If looks could kill, your glare would have sent Eddie Munson to his deathbed. He matched it with a condescending smile that spoke volumes of the power trip he was on right now. Leaning in slightly closer, he repeated himself. “Beg, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No.”

Eddie shrugged, backing up just enough for his cock to leave your skin- you knew it was over from there.

“Wait!” you cried, eyebrows drawing together desperately under his cocksure gaze. Christ you didn’t want to beg, but you might not have a choice. Eddie waited patiently, stroking his cock absentmindedly as he watched you squirm below him.

You looked up at him, giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice was honey sweet, soft and submissive.

Eddie crouched down, sticking a finger in his mouth before he used it to play with your pussy, stroking circles around your clit and pumping it slowly in and out of you. “Aww, baby…” he crooned before narrowing his eyes. “-we both know you can do better than that.”

You groaned, back arching as your hands fisted frustratingly into the cushions. “Eddie, pleaaasse-”

“Try harder, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Eddie you fucking prick, just fucking fuck me, please, I need your cock-”

Eddie smiled- that was good enough for him. “‘Atta girl.” he groaned deeply as he pushed his cock into your waiting hole, your thankful moan mingling with his.

His dick was perfect, filling you deliciously and long enough to just hit that spot beneath your clit that made your nerves go berserk. You didn’t realize how loud your moaning was until Eddie shut you up by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing down every sound you made and repaying you with noises of his own.

“God, baby- so fuckin’ tight-”

You moaned, squeezing him as his cock speared you again and again. You were so built up between your squirting earlier and Eddie’s talented tongue- you were already getting close.

As if he could read your mind, Eddie grunted out as he continued thrusting into you, “I’m nearly there already, baby, you gonna cum with me?”

You whined, nodding ‘yes’ as he pacified your mewling with his thumb. You lapped at it lewdly, covering him with a thick layer of your spit before releasing it with a pop. Eddie brought it down to your clit, working gentle circles around your bundle of nerves as his thrusting picked up the pace. You squirmed under him, chasing your release as you listened to the filth that poured from his mouth while he fucked the living shit out of you.

“Jesus, fuck, so tight- my sweet girl, gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna make you come undone on my cock, just a fucking mess, gonna cum so hard on my cock-”

That last thing he said seemed to jerk him back into reality- his eyes grew wide, snapped out of his high as he looked down at you. “Shit, I don’t have a condom…baby, I’m so sorry, shit, where should I-”

You reached down, raking your nails softly over his hips. “I’m on birth control.” you said, smiling calmly. You kicked yourself for being so eager; normally you would still insist on a condom even with your implant, but Eddie just did something to you. “You haven’t been fucking any random groupies, have you?”

Eddie huffed, his laughter strained by his fast-approaching orgasm. “You’re the first in a while, angel. Last I checked I was clean, but I can still pull out if you-”

“Inside.” you whispered, grasping his ass and pulling him deeper into you. “I trust you, Eddie, I want you to fill me.”

His movements stuttered, big brown eyes wide and watching you like you were a miracle unfolding underneath him. He was still for half a second before his thumb resumed its movements over your clit as he thrusted faster, harder than before.

“Oh fuck, you want me to fill you baby? You want my fucking cum?”

His cock speared into you as deep as it could go, Eddie’s attention to your clit driving you over the edge with relentless speed. “Yes, I want it Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Fucking take it baby, cum on that cock.”

Eddie groaned as you clamped down on him, his seed spilling inside of you while your pussy fluttered around him. You arched your back until your face was pressed into the cushions behind you, muffling your whimpering voice as you moaned his name.

A few moments passed, the air thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex, before Eddie slowly pulled out of your wet heat. You laid there for a moment before you felt Eddie clean his sticky spend from your thighs and ass using a tissue.

“Normally,” he said gently, “I would use a warm washcloth to do this, but we have limited options.”

You sat up as he finished, smiling up at him playfully. “That sounds nice,” you said, “maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you earlier, made you wait until you couldn’t take it anymore and just whisked me off to your place.”

Eddie sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. He looked up at you with nothing but content sweetness in his eyes, any trace of the feral dominance from earlier gone for now. “I mean, we can still do that.”

You beamed, “Really?”

Eddie scoffed, tugging you closer. “What do you mean, ‘really’? You think I need to be desperately horny to want you in my bed?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the mention of his bed. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t know if you wanted this to just be a one time thing, or…” You trailed off, unsure of what Eddie’s expectations had been for what happened after.

Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, confused. “Sweetheart,” he said, his finger tracing circles on your thigh affectionately. “We can hash out details whenever you’re comfortable… but tonight? I would count myself a very lucky man if you came home with me tonight.” He touched his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay?” he asked.

You looked down, suddenly shy upon hearing his honey-sweet words. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before looking him in his big brown eyes. “Okay.” you whispered.

Your eyes stayed connected, melting you until your lips met his again, kissing him sweetly as his hands worked their way to your ass, squeezing as he sighed into your kiss.

“Alright,” he grunted, playfully slapping your thigh as a signal to stand up. “Let’s get you dressed.”

You giggled. “In what? You ripped up all my clothes!” you held up the shredded panties, shaking your head in disbelief.

Eddie shrugged, stepping into his boxers. “I didn’t rip up all of them, don’t be so dramatic.” He picked up your shorts, tossing them to you. “Just go commando with the shorts and wear your sweatshirt, no one will know.”

You sighed, stepping over your torn Gucci tank top and retrieving your bra from where it sat neatly folded in a chair. Eddie looked over his shoulder at you as you began to put it on and gasped.

“You did have a bra!”

You smirked, reaching behind your back for the clasp. “Yeah… I wanted to see your face when I wasn’t wearing one.”

Eddie shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he buckled his jeans. “Unbelievable.” he chided, “Was it worth it?”

You tugged your sweatshirt over the bra, taking a few steps in Eddie’s direction until you were close enough to snake your hand around to the back of his neck and pull him down for one more kiss. When you pulled away, Eddie looked down at you entranced, blinking rapidly as if emerging from a dream. He could only describe the feeling in his chest as complete and utter euphoria.

You grinned up at him, eyes alight with adrenaline that still lingered from your performance onstage and absolute infatuation with the man before you.

“So worth it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #rockstar!eddie munson #older!eddie munson #popstar!reader #inspired by demi lovato's album holy fvck #brat!reader #dom!eddie munson #rip-quizilla

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withlovemark · 2 years ago

Text

all of the moments that led me to you.

warning: steve's black eye (nothing new), violence, mentions of blood, a fight between steve x billy

pairing: steve x reader, light billy x reader (not really, this isn't a love triangle lol)

words: 4.5k+

summary: the title speaks for itself -- a series of moments with steve harrington

an: i was going to post everything as one fic but i kind of hit writer's block in the middle of year 1985 so i'll post this for now instead and hopefully gain some inspiration to continue :)

yr. 1984

i. the first meeting ft. dustin henderson

the words “code red” hitting your ears every five seconds, the stomping of feet running around the house, the back door opening and closing several times - babysitting is weird. not one kid is ever the same, some are easy-going, others can be a real pain in the ass.

you hoped you got an easy kid today. one that just stays in front of the television, binging on crackers and occasionally asking for your help. obviously, you were wrong.

if it wasn’t for the fact that it pays well while simultaneously allowing you to do some of your own studies and looking good on your college resume, you wouldn’t even be here.

but you are here. seated inside the henderson household.

“hey y/n, can you please drive me to my friend mike’s house?,” dustin runs into the living room, an exasperated expression on his face, interrupting your reading.

“are you okay?” you ask, worried about the kid you just met when his mother called an hour ago trailing on about how she saw your babysitting flyer some time back. and even though she knew that she had to book a date at least two days beforehand, she still asked if you could watch over her son.

“just for today” she said, as she needed to look for her missing cat. her promise of double pay, convincing you to accept her request.

“i’m fine, i just really need you to drive me to mike’s,” dustin says hurriedly, eyes hopeful that you wouldn’t ask anymore questions.

“why?” you ask and the boy’s shoulder slumps, doing his best to not roll his eyes at your persistence. he’s obviously not used to asking for permission.

“i uhm forgot my book there and i really, really need it to study for my exam tomorrow,” he sends you a toothy grin, trying to convince you that that was all there is to it. you’re no fool. you notice the slight change in his voice, his fingers anxiously playing with his pockets, right leg slightly bouncing up and down - indications that he’s lying.

“you know your mom’s not paying for my gas, right?” you reason, not wanting to give in to his request and hoping you could just have a calm afternoon.

dustin sighs, his smile disappearing, “fine. i’ll just go behind your back and bike there and if i end up missing or in a ditch somewhere then it’ll be your fault,” he counters, personality quickly switching from the boy who said “please.”

you sat there, flabbergasted, “are you…blackmailing me right now?” an eyebrow raising, you couldn’t believe how diabolical the curly headed boy is.

“i’m not blackmailing you. i’m simply telling you what's going to happen if you don’t drive me,” he smiles, an almost devilish smile, tone hardening with every word and you truly do not know whether you’re terrified or impressed.

letting out a quiet chuckle, you shake your head, “alright, c’mon kid,” you say, grabbing your car keys off the table, “but we’re going back as soon as you get it.”

——

you should’ve known not to trust him, finding yourself hurriedly getting into the back seat of the car of the last person you ever expected to interact with - steve harrington.

pushing his forgotten red roses towards the other end of the car, you take your seat in the middle.

“wh-what are you doing?” dustin turns from the passenger seat, facing you as steve takes in your presence, eyes on his rearview mirror, a confused expression evident on his face.

“y/n l/n?,” he questions, finally remembering where he has seen you before, “you’re in nancy’s grade?,” he asks, more a question for himself than you.

you nod, “steve harrington,” acknowledging his presence for the first time.

“why are you with dustin?” he wonders. he didn’t know much about you. only that you and nancy were sometimes studying in the library together. she’s told him before that you always get the top grades in class and she wanted to be around more motivated people like you.

“i’m his babysitter and i’m coming with,” you simply answer his question, keeping the explanation short. it’s weird enough that you were inside the car of hawkin high’s famous “king.”

“since when did you have a babysitter dude,” steve reverts his attention back to dustin.

“i'll explain later,” dustin reassures him quickly before turning back to you, “and uhm, you don’t have to come, i have steve now,” he points to the guy in the driver seat like you don’t see him.

from what you’ve heard about steve, you’re not sure you trust leaving the young boy with him. he’s known for being notorious, having bad company and overall, just a guy with the money, the looks and the popularity that somehow has every girl wanting him and every boy wanting to be him. you’re not sure how that guy can be trusted with kids.

subconsciously, you eye steve suspiciously, causing him to put two hands up in surrender “hey, i have no idea what’s happening either,” he defends, shrugging nonchalantly.

snapping out of your daze, you focused your attention back on dustin, “look dustin, steve isn’t the one being paid to watch you right now,” you start to explain.

“hold on, you’re getting paid for this?” the older boy interrupted.

you ignore him, attention still on dustin, “if something were to happen to you, your mom would be looking for me. i’m responsible for you kid, i-,”

“fine! there’s no time,” he cuts you off, obviously in a rush.

“you can come, just,” dustin contemplates, already regretting the words that slipped from his lips, “just don’t blame me for getting you into this thing.”

at that, steve snaps back to reality, “wait, wait, wait, if this ‘thing’ is about ‘that’ then she definitely can NOT come,” steve declared, his voice laced with a seriousness you didn’t think he could have.

“well, are you going to drag her out of the car so she doesn’t find out about this thing?,” the younger boy replies, a sarcastic tone evident on his lips.

“guys, i can hear you,” you piped in, eyes going back and forth between the two boys, having absolutely no clue what they’re referring to.

“dustin, im not joking ok!,” steve ignores you, “we can’t tell people about this,” a serious expression appearing on his face, one you’ve never seen on him before, “we’ll get in trouble, you know that. besides, we shouldn’t involve anyone else into this anyway!,” he protested.

he didn’t sound like the steve you would hear about at school. he sounded responsible, protective. he sounded like…a babysitter.

“i know that steve, that’s why i told her to leave!,” dustin shouted.

“well, she’s clearly still sitting in the backseat of my car!,” steve’s voice raises with every syllable.

“can someone just explain what’s happening?” you try butting in, rolling your eyes, completely fading into the background as they continue their bickering.

“i don’t see YOU trying to do anything about it!,” dustin throws the argument back to steve, his patience on thin ice.

“she’s YOUR babysitter!,” steve points out yet again, ears turning red, veins popping and finally pushing the young boys’ limit.

“fuCK!, we don’t have time for this steve, we really have to go NOW!” dustin shouts, losing his temper.

steve, ready to reprimand him, before you decide you’ve had enough.

the series of “thing” and “this” has your mind spinning and your curiosity getting the best of you.

“SHUT UP!” gaining the two boys’ attention, their bodies turning towards you, “both of you. shut. up.” you enunciate, loud and clear.

“i promise i won’t blame you…or you,” glancing at the two boys, “for whatever the hell this thing is…just put your seatbelts on and drive,” ending their argument as you sat behind the passenger seat, clicking your own seatbelt into place.

steve gives up, letting out a sigh, “fuck it,” before finally stepping on the gas.

ii. the babysitters and an angry billy hargrove

you should have never picked up mrs. henderson’s call and you definitely shouldn’t have agreed to babysitting. what was the point of having your own terms and conditions when you didn’t even follow them yourself?

you should, however, have listened to steve and dustin when they told you to leave.

the day isn’t even over yet and you’re already questioning everything you knew. in a span of a couple of hours, you have been introduced to a world you couldn’t even imagine. having to pinch yourself a couple of times to make sure you weren’t just dreaming.

everything was strange.

you’ve spent the whole afternoon dropping meat, trying to bait something called a demogorgon. met steve’s spiked bat. got questioned regarding your relationship with billy hargrove from his very own red headed step-sister. came face to face with the said demogorgon, who, by the way, had demogorgon friends and were actually a pack of demodogs. almost died in a junkyard. walked in the dark woods just to end up in a creepy laboratory. felt the awkward tension between steve, nancy and jonathan. understood why will byers was called the zombie boy. stood behind steve while holding a random kitchen knife you grabbed from the byers’ kitchen — and to top it all off, encountered a little girl who flung the finally, very dead demogorgon through the window then unlocked the front door, all using only her mind.

in conclusion, monsters and superpowers aren’t just a thing people read in their comic books.

“how are you holding up?” steve breaks you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping to his voice.

everyone else has left, leaving you the only two teenagers to act as the adults once again.

the strangest thing of all of this was somehow, steve harrington went from being the popular jock to a guy whose simple presence can provide you comfort. everything you knew about him has changed.

it’s amazing what shared trauma could do.

you shoot him a small smile, “well, i definitely wasn’t expecting all this,” you look around the mess around you, “to be a part of that thing” you refer back to the boys’ banter, trying to keep the energy light despite everything that happened.

he gives you a sheepish smile, almost like he was sorry, regretting that he allowed you to be a part of this.

“it’s not your fault. i chose to come,” you say, reading his thoughts and putting an end to them.

“where did you put the demogorgon?” you continue, changing the subject, reassuring him that you were ok. at least, as much as anyone could be ok in this situation.

“we stuffed it in the fridge,” he shakes his head, arms crossing, like he couldn't believe it himself, “‘for science’ dustin said,” steve quotes the younger boy with a grin.

“right, of course, all the important things,” you chuckled, matching his grin as the two of you continued to clean the broken fragments that have scattered around the house.

you thought it was over, that you could all just wait for everything else to unfold in peace but after a few minutes of silence, the kids were back on their feet, ready to "get off the bench.” you’re not sure how steve has the energy to continue arguing with them when you’re completely exhausted.

the sound of an engine brings a silence to the house, max running towards the blinds recognizing the car that has made an appearance in the driveway, “shit, it’s billy, he can’t see me,” she says frantically, eyes meeting yours, a silent call for help.

“i got it, just hide,” you hushly ordered, quickly making your way to the front porch. steve tried pulling you back but you were out the door before anyone could protest, resulting in him looking through the peephole.

billy’s momentarily confused expression at your arrival wasn’t lost on you and if you were in his shoes you’d probably have the same one on, “hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?,” his husky voice taking up space in the cold, night air.

standing a couple steps away from him, his hand immediately finds a spot on your waist, pulling you closer. you placed a hand on his chest to keep some distance between the two of you, aware of the audience you have, “i’m babysitting a kid, his friend lives here,” you explain, smiling sweetly at him, hoping that he won’t suspect anything and leave as soon as he came.

“have you seen my sister?” he asks breathily, face inching closer and closer to yours, a smirk on his lips. if it was any other day, you would have enjoyed his attention, maybe even be up for some fun. right now though, you just want him as far from max as possible.

“no, why would she be here?,” feigning innocence, you hope he believes your lie.

“she’s been hanging out with a couple of kids here, a bunch of bad influences,” he huffed, eyes quickly glancing around you before pulling you even closer.

“i haven’t seen her, she’s probably at the arcade, have you checked?,” you hope he doesn’t hear the shakiness in your voice.

“you know what i like about you sweetheart?,” he muttered, placing a harsh kiss below your ear, his grip on your waist starting to dig into your skin. you know he has caught you.

“you can’t lie for shit,” pulling you away from him, gaze darkening, he howled with laughter as you followed his line of vision, seeing four kids peeking through the window — one, with very bright red hair.

frustrated curses slip from your lips as you shoot them an angry glance before billy grabs your wrist, dragging you right behind him as he pounded on the door, coming face to face with steve.

“harrington, am i dreaming or is that you?,” he mocks, his hold on your wrist tightening.

“yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” steve rolls his eyes, hands on his hips like a disappointed mother.

steve notices you wince under billy’s hold, “let her go man,” he orders, taking a step towards the wider boy.

billy focuses his attention back on you, for a second you see a feeling of betrayal flash through his eyes but that was quickly replaced with a snarled expression, like he was completely disgusted with the thought of you.

“is there a reason why you both are here alone?” his dark voice causes goosebumps to rise throughout your body.

you’ve heard of how violent he can be but until right now, he has never shown that side to you.

“what are you saying?,” you almost couldn’t recognize him anymore, breath hitching in your throat.

“are you fucking him behind my back, sweetheart?,” billy’s voice grew menacing, “you know i don’t like to share,” he continued accusing you, his free hand coming in contact with your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“dude, no. we’re babysitting,” steve answers for you and motioning towards the kids like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“you’re hurting her,” he emphasized, “just let her go,” gently stepping closer, steve has his arms slowly reaching for you, hands up, a signal that he comes in peace.

steve hopes billy will focus his attention on him instead, just wanting to get you out of there. he feels responsible for your safety and well-being.

“gladly…” billy shot him an evil smirk, “you can’t trust bitches anyways right, harrington?,” he scowled, violently throwing you against the wall.

your head makes a direct impact with the concrete, causing you to fall to the ground, a whimper slipping through your lips. you hear the kids' screams and a punch being thrown as you feel your vision slipping between darkness and light.

you make out dustin running towards you and grabbing your hand, trying to get you to sit up. a couple of unsuccessful tries, he pleads “i’ll come back okay, just stay alive,” as he makes his way back to his friends.

the proceeding events were all a blur and it felt like you were watching it through static television. one moment you can hear victorious cheers. the next moment, you hear something break and steve is suddenly lying on the floor a couple feet away from you, bloody faced and barely breathing. billy continuously throws his punches and the kids scream in fear. you try to get up but your body betrays you, only allowing you to reach out your arm towards the brown haired boy.

somehow, the sound of the punches halted and billy fell to the ground. a sigh of relief escapes from your lips while the slow rise and fall of steve harrington’s chest becomes the last thing you see as you completely fade into the darkness.

—

the next time you open your eyes is to another set of screams, waking you up from your much needed slumber, if you can even call it that. you ignore the pounding in your head as you try to regain your vision. the first thing you feel are the strong arms in front of you, acting as your seatbelt, as you try to piece it all together.

a couple minutes of confusion later, you finally recognize what’s happening, joining steve in full babysitter mode. the yelling of “no’s!,” and “stop the car’s!,” filling the tiny vehicle.

“great, now they’re both awake!, i told you we should have just left them!,” mike cursed dustin annoyingly.

“we were not going to leave them there, mike!,” dustin retorted, “c’mon guys i promised you’ll be cool, okay? just calm. down,” he softly ordered, like he was the babysitter and you two were his children.

you scoff, “dustin, don’t fucking tell me to calm down!,” somehow fearing for your life now more than ever.

“everyone just shut up, i’m trying to focus!,” max yells as lucas yells the directions in her ear.

max makes a harsh turn causing a chorus of screams to rise. your hand immediately clutching around steve’s arm, face burrowing in his neck, seeking for protection, afraid of the crash that luckily never came.

you’re not even too sure what happened the rest of the night but somehow you all made it out unscathed, besides the fact that you and steve are probably suffering matching concussions.

iii. the heart-to-heart

in the tiny bathroom of the byer’s house, you find yourself standing in between steve harrington’s legs. his body feels familiar now, especially after you seeked comfort in each other in the dark tunnel, the two of you thinking it would be your last breaths. in some way, the miracle happened and the screeching demogorgons ran straight past the two of you, like you weren’t even there.

you remember looking up at his golden, brown eyes. being that close to him, you noticed how beautiful they actually are and finally understood how he has charmed every girl at school.

‘i guess it wouldn’t have been too bad dying in steve harrington’s arms.’ you thought to yourself.

brushing those thoughts away, you bask in the moment of solitude within the commotion that is taking place behind the bathroom door. everyone reunited here, checking up on each other.

“does it hurt?” you ask him as you gently pat the alcohol covered cotton pad around his eye, cleaning up the bits of red that have stained them.

he slightly winces, hoping you didn’t notice, “i’m fine, this isn’t my first rodeo,” he assures, sending you a wink before completely regretting the tiny action, a frown briskly replacing his smile, causing small chuckles to slip between your lips.

“you know, you should really stop getting into fights, i could’ve sworn you had a black eye just a year ago,” you remember it like it was yesterday - steve harrington walking the halls of hawkins high without his two minions for the first time, looking like he had fallen off his throne as the hushed whispers grew louder until they finally made its way throughout the school in a matter of minutes.

you could tell he wasn’t at all the person he was trying to be and for a second, you saw yourself in him. you wanted to get to know that steve. the steve that may understand you. but that second didn’t last long.

“so you were watchin me?” he teases, a smirk on his lips resulting in a playful shove and an eye roll from you.

gently grabbing his chin, you stare straight into his eyes, “of course i was. you’re steve harrington,” you remind him, “everyone watches you,” stating the facts before letting go and going back to removing all the dried up blood from his pretty face.

he clears his throat, shrugging his shoulders, playing it cool, “yeah, i guess you’re right,” he says dumbfoundedly, making you laugh.

“you’re ridiculous,” you quietly comment, a smile still on your lips. steve focuses on your light touches, trying not to wince every time you get near his open wounds. you notice his knuckles going white, gripping the toilet seat he was sitting on and ever so gently, hurried your actions.

“there, all clean,” you softly declare as you slip from his space, turning around and putting all mrs. byer’s first aid kit back into place. he quietly thanks you, leaning his head back a bit to rest, his eyes shutting for a second.

“thanks, by the way,” you break the silence “for protecting me earlier… with billy and all the upside down things,” you explain, looking at steve through the mirror. he nods, not entirely sure he’s deserving of your gratitude. you protected him as much as he protected you.

“is he always that violent with you?” steve asks, an eyebrow going up.

you immediately shake your head, “no, he’s never laid a hand on me, i don’t know what came over him,” you say honestly.

“why billy hargrove?” he asks, causing you to pause your actions, paying attention to him.

“what do you mean?” you reply, turning around to face him once again, your back against the tiny kitchen sink.

“well, you didn’t leave dustin alone even though you just started babysitting him today, you care about having seatbelts on, you immediately covered up for max and just now, you took care of me when you should be taking care of yourself,” he points out, “you’re responsible and kind and you care and, well, billy is just a huge dick,” he finished, a hand flailing in the air as you stare at him, stunned at his observations.

you compose your thoughts for a while, not at all ready to have a heart to heart with steve harrington in a bathroom.

instead, you throw the question back at him, “why nancy wheeler?”

“you cannot possibly be comparing billy to nancy,” he replies quickly, a disapproving tone laced in his voice.

“i’m not,” you say defensively, “i’m just saying, she hurt you too but you’re still with her, you-”

“i-i don’t know if we’re actually still together,” he sadly replies, cutting you off, eyes dropping to the floor and you think back to the woods earlier that night — nancy emerging with jonathan right by her side.

“but you still love her,” you continue, “even though she’s hurt you, you still love her,” you finish, trying to make a point.

“so, you’re in love with billy?” he concludes.

you scoff, wanting to say yes and finally drop the subject but the mere thought of agreeing with that sentence makes you visibly wince.

“god no, i’ve been on a couple dates with the guy, it’s far from love,” earning an even more confused steve to face you.

“i don’t know if it’s because i got my brains punched out or i really am just dumb but i completely lost you there,” he admit, a tiny smile on his lips and all you could do is sigh.

heart to heart talk it is.

“you’re not dumb, i just-” taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself.

“we all have our own reasons why were with someone,” you begin, “i’m just so tired of the perfect good girl image that has been imposed on me, it's like people just see me as that and nothing else,” as soon as you start, the dam breaks, flowing.

you find yourself entrusting your deepest thoughts to him, “i can’t be fun because good girls aren’t supposed to be, i go to parties and people are confused that i'm there. you know, i even joined the cheerleading team so people can see me as something more? but all that does is fuel the assumption that i can do everything and still get shit done...that im not capable of mistakes and bad decisions. that i’ll turn out to be something great when really i’m just so damn scared all the time,” your voice breaks but before he could comment, you cleared your throat and continued.

“i guess being with him makes people finally see me out of my stereotype” you confess, waiting for him to say something. the silence becomes overbearing and you feel completely vulnerable under his gaze.

“oh,” steve responds, before bursting into laughter and you feel like a complete idiot, eyebrows shifting downward. god, you’re so ready to dramatically walk out of this bathroom and slam the door against his face but before you could do that, he notices.

“hey wait,” he says, gently grabbing your arm, asking you to stay as he arranges his thoughts.

“i’m sorry, i’m just relieved that you’re not actually in love with him because you deserve a lot better than billy hargrove,” he says charmingly, his cool facade still on display.

“i know,” you agree, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes, “is that all?” you ask, still annoyed.

“yeah,” steve starts, “i-no,” you give him time. you know that he’s having a war in his mind right now, the same one you just had.

he avoids your gaze, thinking to himself, until finally, he puts his defenses down, “i understand you,” he confesses.

“if it makes you feel better, it’s not at all greener on this side, i wished people looked at me less, i wish i didn’t have to go to all these parties just for people to respect me,” steve rattled on, feeling the weight fall off his shoulders with every word that falls off his lips, his facade disappearing bit by bit.

“i completely gave up on school because everyone has already expected me to fail and i started to believe them…it’s tiring having to pretend i’m this ‘king’ steve,” he quotes, “when really i am spiraling and have no fucking clue what i even want in life...i’ll probably just end up having a stupid job i hate and being as bitter as my father,” he sadly chuckles.

“i’m just as scared as you,” he ends with a small smile, eyes meeting yours. he feels lighter after having said it all out loud for the first time and he can’t quite comprehend how he feels so safe sharing his saddest truths with you.

but as you cast him a kind smile, the words “fuck stereotypes,” making its way to his ears, he can’t help but be thankful for the spilled truths and ajar doors.

steve mirrors your expression and you’re glad you finally got to meet him. not “playboy” steve harrington and definitely not steve “the king” harrington.

just steve.

next: yr. 1985

an: a lil bridgerton reference there hehe ... thank you for reading! let me know if you're interested in reading the other moments i had planned :)

feel free to inspire me by dropping your thoughts, comments, suggestions, etc. here <3

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington hurt/comfort #dustin henderson #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x reader angst #stranger things #stranger things x y/n

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 9 months ago

Text

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You couldn’t sleep.

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland.

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got.

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star.

Much like every young person who came to LA.

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year.

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it.

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month.

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason.

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead.

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you.

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change.

Not just because they offered you the job.

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was.

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens.

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope.

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years.

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then.

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing.

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life.

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition.

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional.

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone.

2:43 am.

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back.

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo.

You should be beyond happy.

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined.

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet.

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him.

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed.

More than once.

In front of the camera.

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you.

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room.

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay.

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound.

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise.

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up.

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played.

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other.

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play.

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song.

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face.

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked.

You hummed in agreement.

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side.

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled.

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile.

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place.

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you.

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him.

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed.

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours.

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered.

„Yeah?“ He asked.

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply.

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again.

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment.

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes.

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest.

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too.

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face.

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked.

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie.

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down.

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go.

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry.

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces.

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder.

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours.

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging.

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked.

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours.

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped.

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss.

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet.

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile.

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over.

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him.

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready.

And you did actually get married.

Seven months later.

On a beach.

In the rain.

Without any interruptions.

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #my fic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfic

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megalony · 1 year ago

Text

Stay With Me

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by the lovely @klovesreading, I hope you all like it. Feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream

911 Masterlist

Summary: After an argument with Eddie, (Y/n) picks up an extra shift at work. Both of them wish she didn't when she gets shot on duty.

Enjoy.

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

(Y/n) hauled off Eddie's hoodie that she had been wearing all afternoon and slung it over the back of the dining room chair before she headed through into the kitchen. It felt strange to have the house deathly quiet and barely alive like this. But she had just taken Chris to spend the night with Evan since they hadn't had a lot of time together recently and Chris was starting to miss his uncle Buck.

She loved Chris to death, he had quickly wormed his way into her heart and when he started to call (Y/n) mum, it was the best day of her life. She wasn't used to having the house this quiet without him playing his video games or dancing away to music. But it would be nice to have a night with Eddie without having to worry if Chris could hear them or if he was alright and check what he was doing.

She knew he was with Evan and having the time of his life; whenever her brother came round Chris never wanted him to leave. Last week he went as far as having a meltdown when Evan had to go on shift and leave them. At least he didn't have to be upset this time, he could spend the full night with 'his Buck' and (Y/n) knew Eddie was relieved that Chris's first night away from home- other than being with his grandparents- was with someone they both trusted.

Rounding the kitchen counter, (Y/n) tiredly looked in the fridge, trying to decide if she was actually hungry or not. She had been feeling sick today and the past few days she had no energy, even when she was at work all she wanted to do was go home to bed.

(Y/n) could hear that Eddie had put the tv on in the living room a few minutes ago when he came home and she guessed he would soon be looking for a movie to watch together. With his work pattern, whenever Eddie got an evening or a day off, he binged a few good movies because he didn't have a lot of free time to watch movies. Other than the same five cartoon movies Chris was currently obsessed with.

"When did you get this?"

Pulling away from the fridge, (Y/n) heaved it shut with a sigh and turned on her heels to look over at Eddie.

Her eyes raked over his frame, noticing the way his hair was brushed back on his head and curling up at the ends like he had run it through with wax. He was wearing a dark grey sleeveless shirt and his body was leaning up against the kitchen doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest and for a second, (Y/n) wasn't sure what he was referring to, until her eyes landed on the small box he had put on the counter in front of him.

A pregnancy test.

"Oh, uh, I don't know, last week maybe?" She leaned forward on the counter and arched her back out with her arms folded in front of her.

(Y/n) had bought so many pregnancy tests this last year that she couldn't remember when she got most of them. Usually when she thought she had one in the bathroom cupboard, she went and found she'd already used it and had to go for another. That was probably a spare one she'd bought on the off chance of needing it.

It was a sore subject to talk about at the moment.

A whole year they had been trying. A year of wanting to get pregnant and coming up empty handed with a lot of false positives. Chris had become (Y/n)'s child as much as Eddie's when they got married, he was calling and referring to her as his mum and (Y/n) was in the process of adopting him. But it didn't stop her wanting to have a baby of her own.

She yearned to have a baby and see Eddie with a baby in his arms and Eddie had as much baby fever as (Y/n), but nothing was going to plan. (Y/n) was pregnant two months after they got married but it hadn't been straight forward. (Y/n) thought she might have been pregnant, she had a suspicion but before she could take a test or book a doctor's appointment, she woke in the night with horrid cramps and found out she'd miscarried without really knowing she was pregnant.

That was as close as she came to being pregnant. For the year that they had been trying, nothing had happened and (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself or how to get out of the slump it was putting her in.

"I thought we agreed not to do any more tests for a while?" Eddie uncrossed his arms and crossed the kitchen to reach her but he hated the glum, broken look in (Y/n)'s eyes when she looked up at him.

Without replying, (Y/n) simply shrugged and started to tangle her fingers together. She didn't acknowledge Eddie's hand on her lower back because she knew where this conversation was going to go. All she did was tilt her head to the right when Eddie's lips merged with her neck and she let herself melt into the feeling, just for a while.

"Mi amor?"

"I wasn't intending on using it, not yet anyway." She didn't remember when she bought it, she had on intentions of sitting and looking at a negative test.

"That's what you said before," Eddie rolled his lips together and took a deep breath when (Y/n) shrugged out of his touch and turned to face him with one elbow leant on the counter.

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to joke. We said we wouldn't take any more tests after last time."

Eddie didn't want to come home and find (Y/n) slumped on the floor, staring into the void of a negative test. Unable to move, unsure what to say. If she wanted to do a test Eddie would rather (Y/n) do it when he was home with her but that being said, he didn't want to take any more tests. Not unless they were dead certain they were within a chance of having a positive.

He was sick of seeing the negatives on the test and watching a little piece of (Y/n) break each time they took a test. Eddie would rather forget about tests all together and forget that they were trying for a baby. If they didn't overthink this, then maybe they would have a baby without having to focus and try so hard.

"And we're not." (Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair, brushing the strands further back on her head and out of her eyes. She moved away from the counter and grabbed the dreaded test that had become her enemy rather than her friend.

"Good."

"Why is that good?" She couldn't drag her eyes away from the test to look over at Eddie. Just this once, (Y/n) wished she could tear it open, try the test and have it come back positive.

Just this once. Was she really asking too much by wanting a baby?

"Because I don't like seeing you break down every time we get a test. Hide the damn thing and forget about it. We might get lucky without all the pressure." Eddie leaned back, using his quick reflexes to catch the test when (Y/n) tossed it his way. If he wanted to hide it, he could go ahead and they would see if his relaxed way would go down well or not.

(Y/n) clamped her hand down on her hip and leaned her other side into the counter. Her eyes watched her husband with intrigue as he tossed the test from one hand to the other like it was burning hot and scolding his skin. But her heart dropped down to her stomach when she noticed him glance towards the bin. It was a quick, swift movement, barely noticeable, but (Y/n) saw. She almost expected him to toss the test in the bin but he settled on throwing it on the top shelf in the medicine cupboard.

"May as well forget about it, we won't need it."

His words were like a knife puncturing through (Y/n)'s stomach and she could feel bile creeping up the back of her throat as her stomach twisted and clenched.

"Why would you say that?" The pain in (Y/n)'s eyes matched the croak in her voice and she furiously rubbed her sleeve against her eyes to stop herself from crying. She had cried enough, she wasn't in the mood to break down about this, again.

It hurt more than Eddie could comprehend that when he and Shannon had Chris, they hadn't been trying for a baby. Chris was the reason they got married, both being Catholics and raised with the installed thought of 'doing the right thing.' Chris was a surprise, the best kind, he and Shannon didn't have to try for a year to have a baby and Shannon took that and the family she had, for granted.

And here (Y/n) was, married to the man who stole her heart from the first moment they met. She loved him and Chris and they had their own little family together, but (Y/n) couldn't seem to catch a break when it came to a baby. They had done things the way Eddie's family would have wanted, marriage first, then children. But none were arriving.

(Y/n)'s teeth started to grind down together when Eddie stared across at her with those big doe eyes that were full of panic and fright.

He hadn't meant to say that outloud.

"No, baby I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't." His hands moved to clamp down on his hips and his head tilted to the side as he looked at her with a hardened, unhappy expression. "We don't need a fucking test right now, we need to stop panicking. We have time and it'll either happen or it won't."

He didn't like the way (Y/n) scoffed and her lips curled into a snarky smile. Why could he not see this from her perspective?

"Why not just give up, hm? Shannon didn't even have to try to have Chris and I've been with you almost five years and all I get is a false positive and then a miscarriage. Clearly it's not happening."

"That's not what I'm saying. Do you think I enjoy seeing you upset like this? I'm sick of seeing you so broken and not being able to do anything about it. At least whenever Shannon did a test she didn't cry when it was negative,"

"Well it's a fucking shame you married me, Edmundo."

Eddie knew he had taken it too far the moment he spoke and hearing his full name from (Y/n) only made him cringe and back up into the counter. He hated the way she said his name. He knew he well and truly fucked up when (Y/n) croaked his name like that and had to fight back tears from his crudeness.

He didn't mean it.

Tears welled up in the corners of Eddie's eyes when (Y/n) bypassed him, moving as far to the counter as she could so even her arm didn't brush his chest an inch. And panic bubbled up in Eddie's chest when he watched his wife barge through the dining room, grab her bag from the table and march towards the front door.

What was she doing? Where was she going? He didn't want her to leave, he wanted to stay and talk and make up for the stupid things he had just said that he well and truly didn't mean.

"Wait- where are you going?" The panic in his voice almost made (Y/n) crumble. Almost.

With her jacket slung over her arm and her bag on her shoulder, (Y/n) grabbed her keys and unlocked the door.

"I'm going to work."

"You're not on shift. Baby don't leave, I'm sorry I didn't mean it-"

"I'll pick up the night shift and pray I won't be such a cry baby by morning." When the door slammed shut behind her, Eddie slumped his back into the wall and let himself slide down to the floor with a thud.

What had he done?

***

"Are you okay?"

(Y/n) slumped down in her seat and leaned her head against the window that felt cold and soothing against her burning temple. Night shifts always caught her off guard, they didn't make her feel great when most of her shifts were day shifts since Eddie did a fair few nights.

Every time she went onto a night shift, (Y/n) felt like she was going to collapse the moment she got home and she could never sleep during the day which made her feel even worse. But being on shift was preferable to being at home with Eddie and either sitting in silence or carrying on the argument.

"Just tired,"

"Hm. Makes sense that you'd pick up the late shift if you're tired." Athena tilted her head to the side and gave (Y/n) a knowing look, sporting her signature, calming smile.

Since moving down to LA with Evan, the siblings both felt like Athena and Bobby had taken them under their wings and become their surrogate parents. Bobby looked out for Evan at the station and was always there for him outside of the station when he needed him. And when (Y/n) became a cop, she had Athena to look out for her and be there when she needed a shoulder to lean on.

"I'd just rather be anywhere else right now." There was no point divuldging why she was here and not back at home on her day off. It was easier to try and forget the reason why she wasn't going home yet and pray that in the morning, the atmosphere would be gone by the time she walked through the door.

A bolt of relief surged through (Y/n) when the radio went off, asking for assistance. She needed something to focus her mind on because she wasn't the one driving tonight. Driving the streets aimlessly was something she and Eddie did when they or Chris couldn't sleep and it was only going to make (Y/n) break down and want to go back home.

"Anyone available to assist in a house call? Neighbours are reporting raised voices and items being thrown."

"This is Seven-two-seven-L-thirty, responding."

(Y/n) looked across at Athena as she shimmied up and sat up straight in her seat to try and liven herself up. It was strange to see Athena without her usual sunglasses she always wore when she was on shift, but she didn't wear them out on a night shift. It tended to give people the wrong impression and they didn't exactly help.

"Off we go," (Y/n) heaved herself out the car and stretched, clicking her back into place as she shut the door behind her.

As soon as she was on her feet, (Y/n) felt like the cold air was wrapping her up and suffocating her. Her stomach was still churning from earlier and she was sweating despite the cool midnight breeze.

"The side gates open, I'll take a look."

(Y/n) nodded and watched Athena move away from the path towards the right side of the house. The gate was swinging open in the wind, creaking back and forth which wasn't alarming but it could be something to worry about.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) followed the narrow path up to the front door and tried to peek into the window to see if there were any lights on or any sound of noise. The neighbours called in raised voices and items being thrown about but the house was deadly quiet right now.

"Police, could you open the door please? We're here for a welfare check." (Y/n) knocked on the door three times before she leaned towards the window when she heard some movement. "Open the door please." She tried again with another round of knocking but whoever was inside was now rummaging around. They weren't going to open up.

A sigh passed her lips as she took a few steps away from the door and moved back onto the path. Her hand curled around her radio and she did a sweep around the quiet street.

"Athena, any luck round back? I might check in with the neighbours- oh, someone's opening up."

When the door unlocked and creaked open, (Y/n) walked back up the steps but she stopped short when a woman shot out the door. She collided into (Y/n)'s shoulder, pushing her back and causing her to twist on her feet as she regained her balance. Falling on the pavement wasn't going to do her any favours tonight.

"Miss- miss wait-"

(Y/n) scrunched her hand around the girl's sleeve and tried in vain to stop her bolting away and rushing down the empty street. But just as her hand left the girl's shoulder, everything seemed to stop when a shot rang through the air.

At first, she thought Athena had come through the house and was trying to apprehend someone. It didn't dawn on (Y/n) that it was someone else in the house shooting until a blinding, horrifying pain coursed through her left shoulder.

Her body tilted backwards and she managed to stay upright for three wobbling steps back while her right hand moved to press to her shoulder without thinking. Blood soaked into her palm. The touch on her shoulder made it ignite in white hot pain. No air went in or out of her lungs and her knees caved in on her.

She didn't reach the floor before another shot imbedded in her left thigh just before her back hit the ground.

Her head smashed into the pavement, sending her vision black with little white spots like the stars had fell down to Earth and were dancing in front of her eyes.

The collision seemed to act as a button that turned her hearing off. All (Y/n) could hear was static. It was buzzing in her ears, ringing around in her head and worsening the way her body was shaking when she couldn't hear what was going on. Her eyes wouldn't focus on anything but the flashing stars blinking in front of her. How could she protect herself if all she could see were stars and all she could hear was blinding, buzzing background static.

(Y/n) couldn't help herself if the gunman came outside and tried to shoot at her or the civilian who most probably had fled the street by now. She couldn't protect Athena if she didn't know what was going on or where (Y/n) and the shooter were.

All she could do was lie there like prey, giving in and ready to be killed for sport.

"Shots fired! Officer down I need immediate back up and an ambulance to my location now!" Athena slumped down on her knees, dragging her eyes over (Y/n)'s frame. She had handcuffed the shooter to the radiator in the doorway after she entered the house through the open back door.

She could feel Athena's hand briefly grab hers to let her know who it was beside her and that she was safe.

"(Y/n), can you hear me? You just stay with me, help is on the way."

Something akin to a gurgling scream burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat when she felt something tight strap around her thigh somewhere near the wounded area. She couldn't pinpoint where she had been shot. Her leg was tingling from her hip bone all the way down to her toes that were cold and numb in her boots.

Her head turned to the side and her hands blindly reached out while her vision slowly started to come back to her. She could just about see Athena hovering over her and she soon realised Athena had used her belt as a turniquet around her thigh to prevent the blood loss. As soon as she pulled it tighter, (Y/n) screamed and thrashed her upper body down against the concrete.

Everything started to shake. Each breath she took made her chest shudder and spit foamed at her mouth as she pushed her breaths through gritted teeth that were puncturing down into her tongue.

Everything burned. Everything hurt. She was trapped in a body that was on fire and tearing itself apart.

Why did she bother coming on shift tonight? Why didn't she stay home with Eddie? An argument wasn't worth getting shot at, she should have talked things out with him.

He begged her to stay, why didn't she stay?

"Stay with me, sweetie, stay with me."

Tears stained (Y/n)'s face and burned into her skin like acid when both Athena's hands pressed down on her shoulder. She couldn't tie anything around her arm or chest as a turniquet, all Athena could do was apply as much pressure as she could to slow down the bleeding until paramedics came to help.

The pressure made (Y/n) choke and she reached a hand out, fumbling around until she could curl her fingers around Athena's wrist.

"Eddie. Eddie."

"Sweetie let's focus on getting some medics here-"

"Eddie!"

She screamed her husband's name at the top of her lungs until she saw Athena grapple with one hand to fish her phone out of her pocket. She had to keep (Y/n) calm or else she was going to go into shock and that wouldn't do her any favours when she had two gunshot wounds.

Blood smeared onto her phone when she swiped a shaky finger across the screen and scrolled down to Eddie's contact. As soon as she clicked on his name, she returned both hands to (Y/n)'s shoulder and pushed down as hard as she could until it felt like her hands were going to burst through (Y/n)'s body.

"Athena? Everything okay?" Eddie's confused voice came through the speaker and just the tone of his voice made (Y/n)'s head loll to the right towards the phone, wishing he was here instead of on the other end of the line.

Sirens wailed in the distance before she could answer and it made her jaw clench. She shouldn't be calling Eddie yet, it was too early when all the attention needed to be focused on (Y/n), but if she didn't, she had a feeling (Y/n) would become very hard to calm and control.

"Eddie I need you to listen carefully. (Y/n)'s been involved in an accident, you need to meet us at Mercy hospital."

"No, no what kind of accident? Is she okay?!"

"Eddie," (Y/n)'s eyes dazed around in circles, unable to focus on anything except the sound of her husband's panicked voice. His name slipped past her lips again, but much quieter this time and (Y/n) found she couldn't hear his response, or anything Athena was trying to shout at her.

"(Y/n), honey you stay with me now, help is here. Eddie meet us at the hospital." She ended the call, swallowing down the guilt consuming every inch of her being when the last thing she heard was Eddie's scream of protest. She couldn't have him on the phone when she could feel (Y/n)'s pulse was starting to fade. They had to get her to the hospital and Eddie would have to drown in the same panic as Athena until he got there.

***

This had to be the one. This was the third ambulance Eddie had seen pull into the parking bay just at the side of the emergency room entrance. He hastily parked his car as close as he could get and stood to the side of the ambulance entrance to the hospital. Eddie knew if he went through the reception in the emergency room he would be pushed to the side and would have to wait for hours in agony.

Whereas if he waited here, he could see Athena and (Y/n) come through the emergency room and he could stay with them that way.

Two ambulances had parked up since Eddie got here and neither of them had brought in his wife. He was starting to lose the feeling in his fingers and feet and at any moment he was sure he would throw up. If he hadn't of started the argument, (Y/n) wouldn't have gone on shift and she wouldn't have been hurt somehow.

The only silver lining here was that Chris was staying with Evan for the night. Eddie didn't have to panic and flutter about finding someone to look after Chris and waste time driving around. He had been able to get straight in the car and drive down to the hospital.

Eddie looked down to his phone again, desperate to call Athena but he knew better. His eyes flitted between his phone and the latest ambulance and he took two steps closer when the back doors opened.

Bingo.

"Athena!" He slipped his phone back into his pocket and skidded across the path to reach them, growling when one of the medics tried to push him back.

"Sir stand back-"

"That's my wife!" Both Eddie's hands moved to tangle in his hair and he started to yank harshly on the strands, feeling a few hairs coming loose between his fingers. His elbows pressed out at his sides and each breath started to run away from him when he realised what they were doing.

One of the medics was stood on the side of the stretcher, hands interlocked, arms straight, pushing compressions down on (Y/n)'s chest. Her heart had stopped.

There was an airbag attached to her mouth and nose, pushing each breath she needed through her system. Eddie spied a turniquet on her left leg and a bundle of gauze and rolls of bandage wrapped around her upper thigh that were starting to turn crimson. Another medic was stood on the other side, applying pressure and a large wad of gauze down onto (Y/n)'s left shoulder but the blood was everywhere. Soaked into her shirt, smeared up her neck, lathering the medic's hands and wrists.

Blood was splattered all over Athena. Her shirt, her hands all the way upto her elbows. A few droplets were even dotted on her cheek from back splash when she tried to stem the bleeding.

Eddie's feet were moving before he could comprehend what was happening and suddenly he and Athena were bolting inside down the hall after the gurney. They stopped only when the gurney travelled down a restricted corridor and the pair of them were left waiting, helpless in an empty corridor.

"What happened?"

"We were doing a welfare check… a woman fled the house and the husband open fired on the lawn. We didn't know he had a gun, there was nothing we could do."

"S-someone, shot her?"

He wasn't sure why, but gunshots didn't cross his mind when he saw the blood and the gauze padded onto his wife. He thought of knife wounds or a car accident. Eddie was married to a cop and a gunshot didn't even cross his mind.

He had to call Evan. And Maddie. He needed to find someone who would be able to watch Chris so Evan could come down to the hospital, he wouldn't be persuaded otherwise once Eddie called him and told him the news. (Y/n)'s siblings were the closest people to her, they were her world, the people who raised her when their parents couldn't. They would want to be here, waiting with Eddie for news.

What had he done? Why did he let her leave?

***

A groan tumbled past Eddie's lips and he slowly brought a hand up to his eyes, rubbing forcefully to try and wake himself up and take a look around. He could of cried when he realised he was in the same spot he had been hours ago. He wasn't waking up from this nightmare, he was trapped.

The moment he tilted his head up, his neck clicked into place and sent a shudder running down the base of his spine. His legs were numb and tingling, stretched out in front of him and his back was aching from falling asleep on the floor, leant up against the wall.

The chairs had been too uncomfy to sit on for long and when a panic attack took over him, Eddie curled up on the floor and hadn't moved since.

He stretched his arms above his head but when his eyes locked on a doctor aiming his way, Eddie jumped to attention. He stood up on wobbling legs and braced himself back against the wall with his hands clasped together in front of him. In the time it took the doctor to walk across the corridor to him, Eddie's hands were dripping with sweat and the back of his neck prickled with heat and goosebumps.

"Mr Diaz?"

His throat was too tight to speak so he settled for nodding his head and moved across with the doctor to sit on the chairs a few feet away.

Suddenly, Eddie was glad he was alone. If this conversation went the wrong way, Eddie didn't want to be around friends and family when he had a break down. Evan and Maddie were on their way here as soon as they could drop Chris off with Hen and Karen. Athena had gone to get changed after her interview with the chief of police and she would be back later with Bobby.

That left Eddie to sit and panic in the corridor for the last three hours, riding out the early morning in a state of perpetual fear he had never felt before.

"Your wife is out of surgery, it went very well."

Relief washed over Eddie like the tide claiming the sand and he let his body slump forward to land his head in his hands.

Thank God. It worked. She was okay.

"We removed both bullets, the one in her thigh was less severe. I'm afraid the shot to the shoulder managed to fracture into the joint. It will take longer to heal and your wife will need physiotherapy."

"She… she coded when she arrived…" Eddie wasn't sure what he was asking but he could feel the panic swirling around in his head. (Y/n) had stopped breathing when the ambulance pulled up. She had CPR on her way into theatre, that could have had a lot of adverse affects and cause lasting problems, depending on how long she was not breathing.

"We restarted her heart upon arrival, she's had normal rhythm since then and two blood transfusions. We were rather worried surgery would push her body into a miscarriage, but so far the fetus seems fine. We will keep doing daily observations just to make sure."

"What are you talking about?"

Her expression faltered and Eddie watched the way she fiddled with her hands on her lap, grimacing at her mistake. She should have eased into that conversation and tied to gage whether Eddie had any inkling about this or not. Now she had put her foot right in it.

"I'm very sorry, I presumed you would have known. Your wife is pregnant, congratulations, you are both very lucky under the circumstances."

Eddie's hands clamped together and he leaned forward, pressing his mouth against the side of his hand with a sudden desire to bite down into the flesh and rip it apart.

What had he done?

Their argument earlier in the night had been futile and pointless and he should have stopped her from leaving. If they took the test the night would have gone very differently. If they had worked things out and stayed home together, they would have found out this news in a few weeks and everything would have been better. (Y/n) wouldn't need to be pent up on bed rest and undergoing surgery and physio and cardiac arrest. She wouldn't have gone through all of this and ended up being shot if they didn't argue.

"I want to see her."

"Of course, this way."

Eddie could barely feel his legs when he stood up. He was trembling all over and he raked his nails over his thighs to try and ward off the sudden energy and adrenaline fuelling through his system.

"Eddie," The way she said his name when he bolted through the door made him shiver. He couldn't get her voice out of his head. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear her crying out for him while he sat motionless and powerless to do anything to help his wife. He was never going to get that shrill cry out of his head, no matter what he did to try and forget.

Tears were already streaming down his face by the time he stumbled over to the bed and reached out for her.

He could see the way her eyes blinked rapidly and how she tilted her head groggily to the side to try and lock her gaze onto him. She had only just started to come round from the anaesthetic.

Eddie let himself slump down on the side of the bed and he took a second to rake his eyes over his wife's frame. Her left arm was wrapped up in a sling, bound to her chest which she seemed rather put out and confused about. And he didn't dare look under the blanket to see how badly her leg would look. He could only imagine how discoloured, swollen and sore it was going to be. Eddie had had his fair share of bullet wounds in the past.

When her fingers curled around his bicep, Eddie slipped his hands beneath her back as carefully as he could and gently pulled (Y/n) up when she tried to lean over for him. Her right arm curled around his neck, scratching her nails into his skin and her face slumped forward onto his shoulder. While Eddie wrapped one arm around her lower waist to keep her pinned into his chest and his other hand cupped the back of her neck.

He buried his nose into her hair and sighed against the side of her temple, pressing as many kisses to her skin as he could manage.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

(Y/n) turned her head until she could press a butterfly kiss against the underside of Eddie's jaw and her hazy eyes tried to focus on him when he pulled his head back to look down at her.

"Hm?" What was he sorry for? From what (Y/n) could recall, Eddie hadn't been the one to shoot her. He hadn't done anything wrong, he didn't force her out the house or make her pick up that shift. She should have gone for a drive to clear her head instead of pushing herself to go on shift when she didn't need to. It was stupid of her.

"I shouldn't have let you walk out the door. If I didn't say all those things, you wouldn't have been hurt." Eddie tilted his head to the side and swiped his cheek against his shoulder to rid the tears from his eyes. words were never going to be enough to explain how horrid and idiotic and ruthless he felt for what had happened tonight.

"Baby, I walked out… I k- I knew going to work would be a bad idea," (Y/n) leaned forward again and buried her face into Eddie's neck, groaning into his shoulder when it felt like a storm was rolling into her mind.

"We should have taken the test,"

"Hm?"

(Y/n)'s lips twitched against Eddie's neck and she curled her hand against his back and nuzzled her nose into his neck. She couldn't see what he meant by that, unless there was some secret undertone she was missing. Her eyes soon opened and her lips parted when Eddie's arms suddenly unravelled from her skin and moved to cup her face instead. He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks and gently lifted her head up from his neck so he could look down at her.

The hazy look in her eyes made his heart melt and when she tried to smile so sweetly up at him, Eddie shivered. She had been shot, twice, and had been on the brink of death and here she was trying to smile to calm him down.

"Mi amor, you're pregnant."

Confusion flooded her face and her eyes narrowed while her smile morphed into something closer to unsettling panic.

If this was some sort of joke, it was in very poor taste and it wasn't funny in the least. But the longer (Y/n) stared up at Eddie, the sooner she realised he wasn't trying to play some sick joke on her or guilt trip her. A cry burned at the back of her throat and she choked on her breath as her head started to shake.

"But… I," (Y/n)'s hand fumbled towards her shoulder and her leg twitched at the memory of being hurt. If she was pregnant, she had put herself and the baby in danger by going on shift tonight. She had been shot, how could the baby be okay after that?

"Shh, it's okay, you're both okay." Eddie's fingers brushed across her cheeks, wiping away the tears falling down her face before he leaned down to kiss her. "And I'm gonna make sure nothing else happens to you. I swear."

#eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #imagine #911 imagine #pregnant! reader #eddie x reader #athena grant

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c1eepypas1a · 9 months ago

Note

Can you do some dark Dean Winchester smut? With an age gap, daddy kink, and virgin reader?

A/n: I can only try, this is my first smut pls don't make fun, plus I dunno how to do the writing color change thingy, cringe ahh title name (plus: this is fictional, I know it's fucked up but honestly I've been through shit like this, and if you don't like it, don't read it, there are multiple fics like this, I'm just doing what people want okay?)

Parings: dean Winchester x fem! Virgin!sub! Reader (I can do a male version if it's not supposed to be fem)

Warnings: age gap (dean is 29 reader is 18, daddy kink, dean forcing reader to call him daddy/dean calling himself daddy, non-con, pain for the reader, forced oral (m!rec), tit palming/slapping, slight choking, kissing, swearing, obviously Dom!dean and sub!fem! Reader, nipple play (for like a second), crying, blood (slightly yk since she's a virgin)

"Please, don't...daddy."

*gif isn't mine I got it from Pinterest*

*readers pov*

Me and dean have been friends for awhile now, he thinks I'm stupid, that I don't know about all the staring or lingering touches when he's fixing up my wounds, I hate the looks, I remember when it all changed, when he changed

*flashback*

I smile as I walk into my house with jo, I jump as everyone shouts surprise at me,my dad, bobby singer walks up to me "wow kid, the big 18, do you feel older yet." He smiles warmly and I smile "uh, yeah I guess." I giggle, dean makes a backhanded joke about me finally being legal,

Sam rolls his eyes "dude, your almost thirty, stop being so gross, you knew her when she was in pigtails." Dean grumbles and hands me a present, telling me to open it later when nobody's around and his hand lingers on my shoulder,

That night I open the gift dean gave me, a fucking vibrator, in the shape of a rose and a photo of him, gripping his clothed hard cock, I quickly throw it under my bed along with the vibrator and I pretend nothing ever happened.

*end of flashback*

I walk into the motel room, I look at dean who's binging through channels on the tv "where's Sam?." I sit down next to him, "gone to get food." I nod and I continue to watch the tv, dean lands on a horror movie,

My eyes wander to the hand he placed on my thigh, I don't move it nor I say anything and I get back to watching the shit gore on the tv, "you know sweetheart, sammy's gonna be gone for a while." He says in his usual flirty tone, his hand sliding more up, I push his hand back down, "so what if he's going to be gone." I say feigning my clueless tone, bile rises in my throat as I feel his eyes move down from my face to my tits, "means we could find other things to do then this shitty ass movie." He grips my thigh tighter, borderlining on pain "d-dean what the fuc-" I'm cut off by his lips on mine,

I try to push him away and get up but he pins me down and he tsk's "no, your not going anywhere, I've waited to fucking long for you, I'm not letting you go now." He smirks and starts to undo and push down his jeans "as much as I want your cunt, I'm gonna use your mouth first."

He manhandles me so I'm on my knees, tears sting my cheeks and he smiles condescendingly, "oh baby, you started this, this is your fault, parading in your short shorts and your tight shirts, wearing no bra thinking I won't notice." He says, gripping my hair with one hand and palming my tits and thumbing at my nipples with the other, against my mind praying for this to stop, my body reacts, my nipples getting hard and my cunt getting wet, he smirks at me, pushing down his jeans, leaving himself in his boxers, the imprint of his dick visible,

He stops palming at my breasts and pulls his boxers down, his hard cock slaps against his stomach, leaking pre-cum at the angry red tip, "open up for daddy." He smirks but I don't, I keep my mouth shut and he gets visibly annoyed, he grips my hair tighter and then his other hand closes my nose, "c'mon baby, you gotta breathe soon." He says in a condescending tone,

I try my hardest but I finally open my mouth to breath, he quickly shoves his cock down my throat, I gag and spit forms around my lips and his length, he lets go of my nose and I try to breathe but its hard, "you know, this all could of been avoided if you didn't play fucking coy with me.", he says as he practically skull fuck's me, gripping my face and hair, thrusting his hips roughly,

After about 5 minutes he finally pulls away, I take a deep breath of air,tears streaming down my face, he roughly pulls me up against him, his cock against my clothed stomach, he pushes me down and sits in between my legs, trying to push my shirt up but I twist and I turn to get away, "c'mon babygirl, the less you resist, the less it'll hurt your little virgin pussy." I whimper at those words,

After what felt like forever of struggling, he finally gets my clothes off of me, leaving me in my panties, "lace...it's like you asked for me to fuck you.", I cry at those words "c'mon baby tell me how much you want this, tell daddy how much you want his big cock to stretch you open." He grins sadistically, I stay silent and dean doesn't like that, I feel his hand strike my left breast, "say it!." He shouts in my face, I whimper and I finally speak with a scared tone, "i-i want d-daddy's big cock to stretch me open." He smirks, "that's a girl.",

"please don't...daddy."

That's all I can say hoping that will please him but before I know it he thrusts into me, pain shoots through my whole body and I start to cry again "awe, baby don't cry, daddy's got you." He says as he fuck's me faster, taking away the one thing I thought I could control, but I can't, I'm helpless as he takes it from me, I feel liquid down at my pussy and I look down, I notice the crimson liquid leak down my cunt,

"I fucking knew you would bleed, don't worry sweetheart, it won't hurt that much anymore.", he says as he fuck's me harder, it hurts, no pleasure from it, I beg for him to stop, I cry to god that it'll be over soon and before I know it, I feel him pull out and his cum spurt on my tits and stomach, I feel dirty as dean kisses me before he flops down beside me and cuddles me, like he didn't just destroy me, exhaustion takes over me, before I slip into sleep I hear dean mutter something and I fall asleep.

*the end*

(a/n: my first smut, I hope it was good, if there is any mistakes or anything you didn't like please tell me, I'm sorry it's so short, I wrote this at 1am.)

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #demon dean smut #deanwinchtser #dark! dean Winchester #smutty fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #dark!smut #non-con

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brawltogethernow · 1 year ago

Text

I dreamt the other night that there was an extremely mid live action Murderbot TV show adaptation. That's not my retroactive assessment in the daytime. In the dream I was like, "This has multiple very avoidable or outright comedic flaws. I am going to binge all of it." (I'm aware that this is very meta.)

It had a "life on a starship" structure in the style of Star Trek, though it may have technically been set on one of the satellites orbiting Preservation.

The core relationship was SecUnit and Mensah, which was executed with absolute sincerity that couldn't not be charming, and was also where a lot of the more narmish moments were centered.

SecUnit would hack devices by focusing on them, cuing the camera to zoom in on the relevant machine—then the zoom in would continue with a transition to aggressively average CGI of the inside of the machine, which would animate it...being hacked or whatever. I got the impression that happened at a pivotal moment at least once an episode.

Some of the canon characters were present and were well-cast and characterized. However, the "crew" had also been padded out with a handful of original side characters. There was a gruff ship's doctor type (more Kelso than Bones though), a cook SecUnit had an arbitrary rivalry with, and for some reason two teenage boys who were BFFs. The cook existed to facilitate interpersonal comedy, the teens to have sci-fi concepts explained to them, and the doctor to solve like a third of the one-off plotlines at the end of the episode once whatever emotional arc they'd been facilitating was concluded. The new characters were almost all played by white guys like after they cast the canon characters thoughtfully and considerately they ran out of energy/wanted to work in people who were already on the lot.

I dream-watched three random episodes, but unfortunately the only one I remember specifically is the last one, where the plot was Murderbot getting amnesia (because of sci-fi reasons) to back when the company owned it before it hacked itself. The emotional climax was it deciding to help Mensah even though it didn't remember their friendship, by disabling a machine that was harming her—which it did by triggering the hacking animation by slamming its hands against it several times. Like you do when you hack stuff. The amnesia was fixed after this by the medical doctor administering a liquid for it to drink that reportedly had nanomachines in it. I'm pretty sure the prop was one of those plastic cups dentists give you stuff to swish around your mouth in with water in it.

Murderbot was played by a tall and gloriously buff...enby woman...? I don't exactly recall. —Who in behind the scenes content had a startlingly sweet demeanor and higher vocal register than the character.

10/10 dream I am laughing my socks off. I miss the fake show.

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries

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creative-robot · 7 months ago

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I know The Founders Cut, generally, is the edited scrubbed over version of genloss from Showfall in-universe (as well as a not-8-hour-long-three-stream-binge-night whenever we want to watch it again) but something that struck me as odd and I haven’t seen anyone mention yet, is this warning

It shows up right at the junction where the third act starts, where it appears the Hero is breaking free of Showfall thanks to Hetch. But here’s the thing, while a LOT less than the previous acts the audience still played a significant role in this act, even when really only given two audience interaction choices. Which makes me wonder, how real is this warning, and who is it for? Obviously the audience involved knows what happens past this point, but the audience is also implied to be an integral part of the Social Experiments, which is part of why things start to tweak out when the Founder removes them in the Founder Cut as the Generation Loss generation loses.

My first thought, was that obviously this is another bait and switch, a way to draw the audiences attention, seeing something that’s secret, something that’s not “meant for them”, which is a tactic I could see Showfall using in universe to keep people’s attention and add an air of mystery to their shows.

But

Showfall is doing all their experiments and these shows with a LOT of help from their censors to show it off, displaying a fun silly show that is definitely not uber fucked up and that is 100% just slime don’t worry about it, it’s kid friendly if it’s green! And I don’t think they’d want to bet all their cards on this one experiment doing well enough to their audience to not question the sudden shift in tone that follows this warning. Which makes me wonder.

They did their test, they did their experiment, and the evidence of this last act? I think it was a one time run, they don’t want anyone seeing this, it isn’t for the audience. Act three is specifically to both test and play with their Hero, Hetch’s new lines add a level to this, never once does he call the Hero by their name, just refers to Ranboo as their Role, and he’s not exactly. Nice? About literally any of Ranboos concerns, which wouldn’t really seem conductive to making an audience trust him, especially with his monologue at the end. Ranboo has escaped before, possibly right before act 1 started, they tightened the security on his mask to be unremovably part of them, Hetch doesn’t like the Hero but they’re a fan favorite so he can’t just get rid of them.

Act three is the cumulation of Ranboo being punished for things they don’t remember, for daring to break free from Showfalls control, this is Hetch taking the Hero and essentially majorly fucking and manipulating them to take his frustration out on a fan favorite they can’t otherwise get rid of or give a smaller role like Slimecicle. which is exemplified by the fact that we now know Charlie most likely was never able to actually able to fully snap out of the control, that even in act three in panic and confusion there was at least still a part of him being influenced by Showfall.

So the first two acts are the usual show, they have their posters, they have Squiggles to introduce them, they have goofs and silliness and only a couple slip ups that’re quickly dealt with, the usual rose tinted curtains. Act three?

Do not watch the following material

#or Showfalls just bein silly goofy and pretending they’re letting us in on a secret that isn’t one and playing off the reveal of #what they’re up to as just another plot of a show and hey that isn’t real don’t worry it #but I also think Hetch is really truly throwing Ranboo around like a ragdoll for more than just audience entertainment during act three #I think it could tie in to Chronicle Zero though. if Zeros dreams are connected to what happened to Ranboo then she knows something #Showfall would have a vested interest in her. not in fact. knowing that #and maybe trying to make her not know about any it anymore in a very Showfall kinda way #I’m less versed in what’s going on with Chronicle Zero tbh but I’m tryin. I fuckin love Gen loss #robot rambles #generation loss #genloss #Ranboo #I’m doin the thing where I ramble but it’s my blog I do what I want here #and I’m having hard life stuff happen irl rn so I’m clinging to genloss because it brings me joy and the timing of the FC was super helpful #also if anyone was curious I think Hetch is a bitch but I do acknowledge the possibility of him also being controlled #and I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him #but that’s stuff for not-in-this-post lmao #I had a theory tag at some point but imma be so fr I Do Not Remember what it was

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inkybyl · 1 month ago

Text

The Bad Batch x Fem!Pregnant!Reader

18+, suggestive themes! Minors DNI

Part 2 is here!:

A/N: So I’ve been on nothing but a Bad Batch binge - I finally got around to watching it a couple months ago and rewatched it the other day! Since then I’ve been (shamefully) reading nothing but Bad Batch/Clone Wars Fics 🫣 I’m absolutely in love with the community and can’t help but kick myself for waiting so long to watch it.

I couldn’t help but write something to get it out of my head. I’ve already written part of a Bounty Hunter Reader x TBB and sent it to my friend 😔 🫣 This, however… I don’t think I can send to people IRL lmfao. I’ve also remembered that people can post whatever they want to their own accounts and I thought, ‘why the hell not?’ I think the last time I ever posted a fic anywhere was back in the golden days of Wattpad many, many years ago. (This’ll be the first fic I’d of ever posted on Tumblr 🫣)

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warnings:

Wrote this on my phone with zero plot about it!! (Copy & pasted directly from Notes so the paragraph spacing might be weird)!

I lowkey just wanted to write a cute dynamic between the boys + reader… 🫣

Not Proofread, rushed ending!

Reader’s Relationship with Omega is PLATONIC!

Fem!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, POLY!BadBatch (the Reader is in an established relationship with the boys), (I didn’t write as much as I would’ve liked about the pregnancy because I got super embarrassed and self conscious with myself), Suggestive Themes - mentions/thoughts of oral! Mainly fluff, wholesome and domestic dynamics with the Batch + Omega. Slight Spoilers for TBB Ending, not really, but just in case!

(Set post-TBB ending + Tech is alive for the sake of this fic!)

“Wrecker! Can you come and help me out, pleeease~?”

You called out from your bed, snuggling into the covers further. Wrecker had heard your voice from his seat in the dining room amongst his brothers, immediately scraping it backwards and nearly toppling over. He rushed from his unsteady position towards the room, unbeknownst to him that his brothers had followed with the same urgency.

“Mesh’la! Are you alright?!” He hurried, skidding into the bedroom and kneeling by the bed, his hand capturing yours as the boys stood by the door.

With a giggle, your other hand came to his cheek, “Of course, my beloved.” He breathed a sigh of relief, as did the rest of them, leaning into your touch while placing a delicate kiss to your wrist. “Then… what-uh.. what’d you need help with, Sarad?” He asked gently, looking into your eyes.

You smiled, eyes flicking to the rest of the batch, knowing that they hoped you couldn’t see them - but you had been a member of their squad for too long, been their partner for too long to know exactly when they were looking out for you. It warmed your core as you brought your hand to your enlarged belly underneath the covers, placing a gentle kiss onto Wrecker’s nose.

“Could you get me something sweet? I’m not sure what we’ve got left in the kitchen apart from the fish you and Crosshair had caught.” You hummed, a mischievous grin playing on your face as you heard Crosshair click his tongue. Wrecker laughed loudly, “Of course, Mesh’la! But is that all ya’ wanted? I can always get you more than that!” He grinned, not realising Tech had walked into the room to kneel down next to his larger brother, eyes and fingers engrossed in his data pad, “I have to interject, cyar’ika. Too many sweet treats may affect you and, or the baby.”

“Awh, don’t worry, Tech! I haven’t had that many!”

“This will be your fifth of the day.”

Wrecker laughed at his brother’s quip, Hunter and Crosshair walking into the room this time, the Sergeant sitting by your feet whilst the Sniper sat behind your back. “Are you surprised? Our Riduur is carrying Wrecker’s baby.” Crosshair said to Tech, earning a playful scoff coming from the largest of the group. Wrecker turned to look at Hunter with you, both of you attempting your best pouts, “Pleeease?” You asked sweetly, earning a sigh from the tired leader.

You had always tried to sway Hunter to have him wrapped around your finger, usually it always worked in your favour, but since you fell pregnant he’s been able to put his foot down a lot more than before. “You heard Tech, Cyar’ika. Why don’t we get you something different this time?” He offered with a small smile, his hand rubbing up and down your calf over the covers. “We can comm Echo, he should still be at the market with Omega.”

With a soft hum, your finger patted your chin. You really wanted something sweet but you knew your boys were looking out for you, albeit they might go over the top, but it was all you could ever ask for.

You smiled softly at him, “Okay, Hunter.” You grinned, laughing at the visible tension leaving his shoulders at your agreement.

Crosshair’s bionic hand had slowly made its way to your shoulder - the skinnier brother of the group had always struggled to show his affection for you in front of anyone else, but with recent events, he found himself ignoring any teasing that he thought would come his way. “Why don’t we meet them halfway?” He murmured, “You haven’t had any fresh air today.” He told you simply, raising an eyebrow when you whined, “But I’ve had the window open all day!”

“An open window does not give you the same benefits of going outside for a walk, cyare. The benefits that would bode well for you would be the exercise, additionally the—“, “Yeah, yeah, Tech, she knows!” Wrecker interrupted with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. Wrecker turned his face back to yours, leaning his cheek on the mattress to brush his nose with yours, “C’mon, Mesh’la. Cross’s right, let’s get you outside for a li’l bit.” He spoke with his softer tone that he knew you loved and could never say no to.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to look as though you were physically fighting off your partner’s cuteness, dramatically letting out an exasperated breath, “Fine, I suppose I should.” You sighed, hiding your smile when you could see them relax slightly. “And don’t worry, Mesh’la, I’ll carry you up the hill if your feet get sore!” Wrecker grinned, his hands coming underneath your arms to gently pull you out of bed and to your feet. You hummed in appreciation as his hands drifted to your belly, his eyes softening at the bump beneath your dress.

Crosshair and Hunter stood from the bed while Tech stood from his previously knelt position next to Wrecker, his hand gingerly coming to yours. “If you require assistance walking down the steeper parts of the way, you may hold onto me. I-If you require.” Tech offered, the rim of his goggles hiding majority of his awkward blush. However, just like how Crosshair’s would, the tips of his ears were brighter than anything and had earned a chuckle from the Sniper, “Smooth, Vod.”

You placed a kiss to the tip of Tech’s nose like you had with Wrecker, gently squeezing his hand in appreciation and looking between them, “Thank you both, and you’re right Wrecker, I might need a hand coming back up. And I’ll take you up on that offer, Tech.” You smiled kindly, addressing both of their offers before stretching, walking past Hunter and towards the refresher. “But first, I need to get freshened up, are you okay to wait for me at the door?” You asked, fluttering your eyes at the group, innocently connecting your hands behind your back. With a subtle blush from each of them, they nodded, hastily leaving the room to you for you to get ready.

You were quicker than you were expecting, walking into the dining room to see Hunter on his comm talking to Echo. “Yeah, we’ll be leaving soon - are you and Omega okay to wait up for us?” You smiled as you heard Omega’s excited chatter from the small device, grabbing your bag and slipping on your sandals. Wrecker had taken notice of you when you slipped your shoes on, walking over to you and gently taking the bags from your hands, “Wrecker, don’t be silly - I can carry bags at least.”

“Don’t you worry, Mesh’la. You leave all the work to us.” He beamed, placing a kiss to your lips with a soft squeeze on your shoulder.

You both walked over to the rest of the batch, Tech walking over to your side while Hunter and Crosshair stood by the door, adjusting their bags and taking one last look around your house to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. Tech slid his hand into yours, and with a gentle squeeze began walking with you out of the door. “Now, cyare. Is there anything else that is calling to your cravings?” He asked, “Apart from anything highly concentrated with sugar for the time being.”

You giggled, looking behind at the group, “That depends… who’s cooking tonight?” The boys looked amongst one another until Crosshair spoke up with a tone of boredom, “Echo.”

“Wait, but isn’t it—“

“Echo.”

You laughed at his adamance, “Does Echo know that? Didn’t he cook last night?”

Crosshair shrugged, placing a toothpick between his lips as you all began your descend to the market stalls. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll know it’s his turn to cook.”

Wrecker let out a boisterous laugh, nudging Crosshair’s shoulder, “You can admit ya like Echo’s cooking ya’ know, Cross!” Hunter gently shook his head as the Sniper grunted in protest. “As long as we’re not eating rations again, I don’t mind cooking.” The leader offered, catching up to you and Tech to talk about what you could eat, or rather, what Tech thought was best for you to eat.

It wasn’t long before you reached the bustling stalls of the island, many locals nodding and greeting you all politely, some even asking you how you were getting along. You looked along the crowd, searching for Omega and Echo until you looked up to one of the lamp posts in the distance, “Ah, there’s Omega!” You cheered, pointing and waving at the young girl.

Omega had climbed the foundation of the lamp to get a better look over the crowd, and once she had caught eyes on you with her brothers, she began to wave excitedly, looking down to probably alert Echo. She leapt down and you could only imagine she was running towards you all.

As soon as you saw a flash of her white hair in the crowd you ran ahead of the boys, all of their breaths hitching as they shouted after you to slow down. With an excited giggle you opened your arms for a hug from Omega, spinning her around and squeezed her closer to you. “Ahh, I missed you so much Omega!” You chirped, giving her cheek a gentle peck before ruffling her hair affectionately, “Hey!” She giggled, swatting your hand away, “You saw me this morning!” She said to you with a big smile as you sighed, “I know, and I’ve been stuck with your brothers since then!” You joked as they caught up to you both, Wrecker panting with a worried expression. Omega grinned at Wrecker, giggling a little at his concern before giving your belly a cute kiss and gave you another tight squeeze before running over to her brothers, hugging them all the same. Wrecker walked over to you, his expression still one of concern, “Mesh’la… you scared me, what if you tripped? What.. what if you’d fallen…?” He whispered, his hand coming down to your belly. Your eyebrow raised as you tilted your head, still smiling at him as you didn’t want to undermine his concern for you. “Oh, love… I understand that you— you’re all concerned for me, but don’t forget I was a soldier too. I can handle myself.” You told him, your hand coming to meet his on your bump.

His brows furrowed in thought, knowing that you were more than capable of protecting yourself and his little one - even before the batch had met you, but it didn’t mean he didn’t worry. The first time you had gotten intimate with the boys they had spent, what felt like, hours kissing the scars you’d received in your battles alongside the 501st. You were more than capable of handling yourself.

And that was exactly what worried them.

Your mind still lingered around the days that you were a field medic, a skilled one at that. You knew your way around a blaster and had certainly gotten familiar with the trigger of one. You could patch up a whole squad alongside Kix whilst fighting off any enemies that came your way, a protectiveness in your eyes, and actions, that Clone Force 99 got to witness firsthand when you were assigned on your first mission with them.

You knew that sometimes they would long for the battlefield, and they knew you longed for it, too. It was in their nature to long for it, they knew nothing else, they were made for it - however you chose to sign up with the republic, you had chosen to train to help the clones and Jedi with their battles across the galaxy.

They thanked the Maker that you were assigned to their squad just that one time.

You never left them.

They saw firsthand how much you cared for them, how you refused to see them as, “expendable”. They would shower you with affection alongside your markings, but you would show theirs far more delicate care, ‘A woman’s touch…’ You had told them, disguising your affections with small tales and fibs.

At the time, you hadn’t the words to convey to them how much you cared about them, how their mistreatment angered you, despite of all of their successful missions.

But having been with them for as long as you had now, you made it a daily goal to remind each of these boys how much they had meant to you, especially now you were carrying a child within you. You’d be damned if any of them died on you now.

Wrecker knocked himself back into the present when your hand graced his cheek, “Cyare?” Your voice broke through to him.

He managed a breathless chuckle, his small reminisce on the old days had brought a smile to his face, kissing your palm with a fondness he knew you’d pick up on, “… I know you can handle yourself… that’s what worries me.” He joked, earning a loud laugh from you, gaining curious glances from the rest of the squad. You hadn’t realised that Echo was behind you during Wrecker’s space-out, gently tapping his scomp into your side, “You’re not running around and causing trouble, are you, Mesh’la?” He asked.

Placing a kiss to Wrecker’s cheek, you turned your face over your shoulder to see the ARC trooper grinning at you, dressed in comfortable slacks as his arm wrapped around your waist, his forearm taking some of the weight off of your belly that let you sigh in relief, “Thank you, Echo… And of course not! Who do you think I am?!” You jested, motioning to yourself as both men stared at you unimpressed.

“Our troublesome medic.”

They answered for you, Wrecker leaning in to your right, and Echo leaning in for your left cheek, leaving their kisses on your soft skin with a shy squeal from you. “Hey, we still need to grab some things for our dinner tonight!” You protested, playfully swatting the men away, your arm resting atop your stomach as Wrecker placed his arm around your shoulder affectionately.

“Ah, I already grabbed some things, I thought we could have either this for our dinner or—“ Echo started, showing you a bag full of goodies you hadn’t noticed until now, listing the many dinner options you all could have thanks to the mother-trooper of the group.

Wrecker and you had exchanged a glance before giggling softly, not wanting to make Echo think he’d said something wrong, “What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing, Echo.” You grinned, holding his hand, “We’re laughing because on the way here, we were joking about who was going to make the dinner-“

“Crosshair wanted it to be you!”

“But Hunter’s offered to make it, if you don’t want to.” You explained, smiling softly at your massive partner interrupting you from excitement, grinning at Echo’s stunned face.

He glanced at his shopping bag before looking over at the leader of the group, “Oi, Hunter,” he called, gaining his attention, “Catch.” He said simply, skilfully throwing the bag in his Vod’s direction and smiling once Hunter had caught it, “Figure out what you can make with that.” He teased, his arm wrapping around your back alongside Wrecker’s, “I haven’t been able to spend any time with our lovely Cyar’ika since this morning.” Echo explained, staring down at you with an expression full of endearment.

Leaning into the men’s warmth, your little group continued to walk around the stalls, Hunter looking rather pensive as he began to take his duty as cook seriously, looking for herbs and spices to go with whatever he had planned. Omega would chip in with throwing in random ingredients, charming Hunter with her innocent smile as he would look to Tech to fact check what she had thrown in.

Crosshair, trying his best to remain as enigmatic as he could, kept a close eye on what was going to be involved in your dinner, whispering to Tech and double checking if you would be okay eating certain things. The thought behind his actions warmed your heart, but you knew that you wanted to relax - and you wanted the boys to feel the same. “Cross, we’re not going to get poisoned any time soon.” You joked, looking at him with a raised brow as your arms were still interlocked with Echo and Wrecker, enjoying the time you were able to spend with them on this walk.

Crosshair scoffed, acting as though he wasn’t looking out for you, “Who knows what Hunter’s grabbing? Might make the dinner taste like osik.” He huffed, his ears tinging with a soft blush much like Tech’s would. Hunter whipped around to glare at his brother with a growl, deciding against arguing with his youngest in public before rolling his eyes. You giggled, softly sliding out of Echo and Wrecker’s arms with a soft kiss to each of their cheeks, walking over to the leader of the squad, your hand gracing his shoulder comfortingly, “Don’t worry, Sergeant. The dinners you make are always lovely,” you complimented, sending a playful glare towards Crosshair.

The meals that Hunter would make would always end up being on the blander side, none of you the heart to break it to him that his portioning of herbs and spices did nothing for your own tastes. He could pick up on the faintest of seasonings and at times he’d forgotten it wasn’t the same for you all. It wasn’t until Crosshair used it against him in one of their arguments that Hunter’s world dawned on him.

“For the last time, you need to stop antagonising anyone who comes near us! It nearly cost us missions in the past, and now you’re pissing off the neighbours! Guess who has to apologise, because it’s sure as hell never you?!”

“Yeah, well maybe I wouldn’t be so pissed off all time if it wasn’t for your shit cooking. Your cooking tastes like shit, Hunter. It’s shit.”

When Crosshair had said to Hunter what you’d all essentially been thinking for months, the Sergeant’s posture stiffened and his cheeks had dusted with embarrassment, the only one able to stick up for him without stuttering being Omega. You all lectured Crosshair until he apologised to the eldest brother in his signature fashion - thankfully now it was a joke that was shared between them both.

Now every time he would create a meal he would ask for someone to be there to taste along the way, knowing that just because his enhanced senses lead him towards picking up on every grain of flavour he would add, he didn’t want that to stop everyone else from having a decent meal.

His intentions were met with praise, knowing it wasn’t his intention to feed you all the bare minimum, so he would over compensate with portion sizes, you were a massive family as it was, he didn’t have to feel like he had to feed you all three times over. Wrecker wouldn’t complain, the more he could eat, the happier he was.

Hunter had blushed at your compliment, your use of his rank always making his hairs stand on end, it would always remind him of the intimate moments you would spend with him. Whether it were moments spent with his brothers or just himself, his rank slipping from your lips always excited him in ways he knew he should never have indulged - but with the war for them over, he found himself leaning into his enjoyments a lot more than usual.

But with you all in public, with Omega of all people, he had to bring himself almost to attention, his eyes looking away from yours, “… Thank you, Cyar’ika…” He mumbled, his blush darkening when you had kissed his cheek, grinning at him with adoration. He smiled at your soft giggle, placing a kiss on your temple before turning back to the stalls, Echo deciding to join him and Tech in looking for ingredients.

Crosshair snuck up behind you, his hand lightly tracing your waist as he looked down at your form, “You don’t need to lie to him.” He joked with a straight face, earning a laugh from you. “You can always tell me if you’re sad Cross, I know Echo’s not making the dinner tonight but-“

Your arms came around to hold his jaw, loving the feeling of his chuckle against your back, “Never, ram’ser.” You smiled, leaning up to place a kiss on his chin.

Your attentions turned towards the group, Wrecker now holding Omega on his shoulder, snacking on some of the crackers Echo had bought before you got here whilst getting scolded that they might fill themselves up.

“Y’know… we could sneak back to house without anyone noticing,” Crosshair whispered in your ear, his arms coming underneath your stomach and alleviating some weight, “I could rub your legs… your back,” he began to list, lips coming to kiss the shell of your ear. His voice sent tingles through your thighs and to your core, a pleasant shiver rolling down your back, “And after I’ve given you a massage I could help you relax…” he purred, his fingers comfortably rubbing circles along your belly.

You wanted nothing more than to see Crosshair looking up at you from between your legs, to feel his hands over your body once again.

Since becoming pregnant, all your boys made sure to treat you like the most delicate gems, looking out for your every need no matter what the situation. In the fleeting moments of intimacy you shared with them, they were all incredibly gentle and soft, showering you with constant compliments and praises, paying close attention to your changing body - especially Wrecker.

The thoughts enveloped your thinking entirely, biting your lip with a cheeky smirk, looking at Crosshair from your peripheral. “We’ve probably got… 2 minutes before they realise I’m missing.” You grinned, the sniper matching your mischievous glint, “Well then we better not waste them.” You covered your mouth when a giggle fell from your lips, Crosshair kissing at your neck as he began to direct you back in the direction of your shared house.

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

Thank you for reading!

Sorry for the incredibly rushed ending - like mentioned at the top, this had zero plot when going into it, it was very much writing as the ideas come into fruition 🤣

I’ve never posted a fic to Tumblr before so if you enjoyed, woohoo! 💕

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