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hgfictionwriter · 2 days ago

Text

First Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You and Jessie meet at UCLA and have been together a couple of months, but still haven't been intimate. In fact, she's never been intimate with anyone. But when your roommate is out one night, she might finally experience her first time.

Warnings: G!P content. Dry humping Simulated intercourse. Premature ejaculation. Cunnilingus. Penetrative sex. Loss of virginity. Unprotected sex. Praise kink. Language.

A/N: In response to this request. Virgin Jessie - shy, nervous, but just oh so eager to please. Happy holidays!

Jessie gave your hand a small squeeze as you walked across campus together. A bashful smile crossed her face at the way you turned your head towards her with a hint of surprise before giving her a warm smile and laugh. You giggled softly as you leaned in for a quick peck on her cheek mid-step.

"You are too cute," you told her as you faced forward once more.

"I just had a good night with you," she said as she reflected on the sunset picnic you'd had together at a nearby park. She released a quiet sigh as you approached the juncture in the path that signaled the end of your evening together; her dorm one direction, yours the other.

You stood together, your arms now resting across the back of her shoulders in a comfortable embrace. Jessie felt her face growing hot before she'd even begun speaking.

"Uh, my roommate's home tonight. Love her, but, it kinda sucks. Don't get me wrong, I love our dates," she gestured between herself and you as her eyes were affixed to the cement below, "and exploring the city together, but it would be kind of nice sometimes to have our own space? You know?" She shook her head quickly with a nervous chuckle as she looked back up at you. "I'm probably not making any sense."

You leaned in a gave her a sweet, chaste kiss, calming her nerves immediately.

"Good news. My roommate is at a party tonight. She probably won't be home until late," you told her.

Jessie's face lit up before she quickly quelled her excitement. She automatically assumed that meant she'd come over, but she shouldn't assume.

You laughed, giving her another quick kiss.

"Want to come over?"

Or maybe she could assume.

"Yeah. Sure. That'd be great," Jessie replied, trying not to sound too eager.

Though you'd been together a couple of months now, between the nature of her schedule and the realities of your living situations, there really was very little time where it was you two alone and in private. A night like this was rare.

In your dorm, you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you, inviting Jessie to sit down instead of standing awkwardly several feet away like she was.

"What do you want to do?" You asked as you leaned back on your hands and looking far too tempting. Jessie sat stiffly rubbing her already-sweaty palms against her jeans. She cleared her throat, glancing at you over her shoulder before looking away despite her efforts.

"Um, anything," she said before forcing a smile and looking at you once more.

"You're my guest," you countered with a smirk as you sat back up and nudged her with your shoulder, "it's up to you."

Jessie laughed, feeling the tension of the moment - whether it was solely in her head or not - settling all throughout her body as she nudged your leg with hers. "No, it's not up to me."

"Mm, I think it is," you said easily as you shifted slightly towards her, your knee coming up onto the bed as you tucked your foot under you. You held her gaze and it felt so intense to her in the best way possible.

"I want to do whatever you want to do," she offered with a shrug, turning slightly towards you on the bed now as well.

You held her gaze a moment longer before finally exhaling with a soft huff and looking away, an affectionate smile lingered on your face.

"Well, we don't get much time alone, so...," you trailed off as you slowly leaned in, capturing Jessie's lips. She smiled into the kiss.

The kisses started of very chaste, but things shifted just so as Jessie allowed her hands to ever so slightly wander; a hand gently cupping the side of your neck, her thumb softly caressing your jawline and her other hand toying with the hem of your shirt. You reciprocated, a thumb caressing her collarbone and your other hand on her knee.

Your tongue began to explore her lips and mouth and Jessie remained steady. Even if things didn't progress much, she could feel herself starting to get hard within her jeans. If you noticed, you didn't let on.

Jessie wanted to explore so much more, but you didn't make a move, so she didn't either. It was only a matter of time until you pulled back with a soft smile and rest your head on her shoulder.

She sat tensely, very keenly aware that although jeans gave some concealment, you could probably still very much see the bulge in her pants.

"Want to watch a movie?" You asked, getting up off of the bed without waiting for an answer.

"Y-yeah," Jessie stammered, still trying to be present in the moment and will her erection away. She looked around quickly and saw a throw pillow at the edge of your bed and laid it across her lap.

You returned with your laptop and coaxed her to the wall so you could both lean back and watch the movie. She couldn't help but notice how you very politely didn't acknowledge the pillow across her lap.

She sat there awkwardly at first as the movie started, but soon put her arm around you and you cuddled in. You both initiated light caresses throughout and it did nothing to help her with her arousal. It was nearly painful now and she honestly had no clue what was going on in the film. All she could think about was every touch, every movement, and her mind was creating an entirely different movie inside of her head.

Outside of Jessie being on the receiving end of a few fleeting, but heated kisses throughout your relationship, things hadn't gotten much more serious physically. What happened tonight is about as far as you ever got.

Jessie didn't know what to expect, really. She'd never dated before. She was never around in high school, so building that kind of a connection would've been difficult to begin with. And God knows she was even shyer back then, so between how young she always looked compared to the other girls and how she fell apart around anyone she had a crush on, it was no surprise that she was never seen as more than a friend.

Now, in uni, she was still shy - there was no denying that - but between her growing role on the national team, her role here on the Bruins and just exploring this new phase of her life, her confidence had grown. So though her nerves were rattling as she talked to you the first few times in class, she got through. She made you smile, made you laugh, impressed you with her smarts, and was over the moon when you gave her your number.

As you planned out your first date, she sheepishly admitted she wasn't entirely sure what to plan - she'd never been on a real date before.

It was embarrassing to her, frankly. Being in her second year - no serious romantic experiences to speak of, no girlfriends, and certainly no sex. All of her friends had lost their virginity and were, how should she put it, very confident and experienced in that department by now. And one would think she would be too given her athletic status, but that just wasn't her.

You'd been a little shocked initially. Bashful now in your own right over your own experience and history. Jessie profusely interjected - telling you there was nothing for you to be embarrassed about or feel ashamed about. You're beautiful, you're charming, you're smart - of course you'd have past relationships and experience. She joked she'd just need you to be patient with her.

"We'll take it slow," you'd promised with a sweet and caring kiss.

But now, two months in. Jessie regretted her joke. You'd really taken it to heart and now she felt like it was entirely upon her to push things forward. She didn't know where you stood - if you wanted more already or not and she didn't know how to proceed. She'd dropped hints - like tonight - and you didn't reciprocate the way she wanted.

So she worried. And fretted. And ultimately never pushed further.

Time went by achingly slow as the movie continued. Jessie couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in place as her member throbbed with want. You weren't even really doing anything - nothing explicit, certainly, but she wanted you so bad even a feathery touch sent goosebumps flaring across her skin.

"You okay?" You asked.

"Yeah," she assured you with a tight smile.

"You can move if you aren't comfortable," you told her.

"Oh, no," she dismissed with a rapid shake of her head and another reassuring smile. "It's not that. I mean - I'm not uncomfortable. I-I like being with you."

You chuckled, a faint smirk on your face as you kissed her cheek sweetly. "I like being with you, too."

As the movie continued and you drew faint, teasing circles on her collarbone and the odd fleeting breath hit the sensitive skin of her neck, she clutched the pillow in her fists and clenched her jaw, nearly grinding her teeth together.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked.

Jessie found herself letting out a slow exhale, keeping her eyes fixed on the screen.

"Yep, I'm good," she said almost curtly though flashed you a quick smile after. You frowned.

"You don't seem comfortable. I can give you some space if that's it," you said.

Jessie couldn't help the bewildered, frustrated laugh that escaped her as she looked up at the ceiling.

"No - that's, that's really not it," she said, feeling now like she could explode out of her own skin with the tension that had mounted in her body. She scratched at the side of her head as she struggled to figure out what to do.

"I, um," she stammered. She shifted, feeling compelled to stand up and get away, but quickly realized she couldn't - not without the tent in her pants being fully on display once more.

"Babe, what's wrong?" You asked, now looking genuinely concerned.

Jessie buried her face in her hands with a shake of her head. She dropped them heavily onto the pillow and let her head fall back against the wall with a dull thud.

"I'm just...yes. A bit uncomfortable," she eventually admitted, feeling immense heat radiating off her face. She could only imagine how red she must be.

"Um, well, is there anything I can do?" You asked tentatively.

She laughed. "No. I um," her mind attempted to conjure up the best response but she landed with another, "no." She caught the perplexed frown you shot her.

"Well, you seem unsettled. If I'm making you uncomfortable I'm really sorry," you told her as you sat back a bit.

She sighed before letting her head roll to the side to give you a frown of her own while she did her damnedest to push down the embarrassment that flooded her system. "Come on, you know."

"I-what?" You asked with a deeper frown.

Jessie sighed once more and ran a hand roughly across the back of her neck as her gaze settled on the blankets of your bed.

"It's nothing bad," she eventually settled on saying, mustering a look to you before flitting away again. "Least I don't think so."

"Okay. Now I'm really confused," you said. You took a small breath. "I wish you'd tell me."

Her face felt hot as ever as she laughed lightly and looked up to the ceiling once more.

"I just find you very, very attractive. So. I'm struggling a bit right now."

"Oh." You said simply. She studied you, but your expression was unreadable.

"I'm sorry," Jessie breathed, shifting slightly as she scratched at her temple. "That's so awkward. And we said we'd go slow. And I don't want to pressure you-"

"Pressure me?" You asked, voice rising in confusion and swiftly ending Jessie's ramblings.

"Well, yeah," she stammered slightly while offering you a faint smile. "I know I asked you to be patient with me. But that also means I don't want to push you at all. I mean, just because I'm-I'm...," she inadvertently looked down at the pillow in her lap, "whatever, doesn't mean we have to-"

"You aren't pushing me at all," you told her calmly. A hint of a smirk played at the corner of your mouth. "I'm...waiting on you." You held your hand up quickly. "No rush! I'm happy to take our time. But. Whenever you're ready. I'm ready."

She shot you a somewhat bewildered look. "Seriously?" She blushed as you couldn't hold back a laugh. She frowned. "I just meant you haven't initiated anything!"

"Why would I?" You returned, folding your arms across your chest playfully. "I know it would be your first time, so I thought we were letting you set the pace."

She blew a raspberry, blushing at the action before shooting you another tempered glare. "Well I could've used some encouragement! I just thought you weren't interested in more yet. You didn't reciprocate any-" she gestured aimlessly for a second, "you know."

"I reciprocated," you said pointedly, though still smirking at her. "Whatever you did, I reciprocated. But I didn't push further. It's important to me that you be entirely comfortable. I didn't want you to feel like we had to do more until you were ready. Hence, letting you set the pace."

A groan escaped her throat and she let her head fall back against the wall with another thud. She closed her eyes in frustration and mild regret for a moment before opening them and looking at you with a sheepish smile.

"Well. I'm..."

"...what?"

She gave an exaggerated shrug and a fleeting glance. "Ready."

You nearly snorted. "That didn't exactly sound enthusiastic." You laughed once more. "I'm looking for enthusiastic consent."

"Oh my God," Jessie complained as she dropped her hands into the pillow heavily once more. "You're going to kill my 'enthusiasm' with criticisms like that."

You gasped dramatically and Jessie's gaze snapped over to you.

"Just what every girl wants to hear," you teased.

"No, wait, I'm sorry," she offered as she adjusted her spot on the bed, facing you more fully, still keeping the pillow firmly in place. You seemed to be joking, but she felt compelled to reassure you either way. "I was just kidding. You never have to worry about that. I, uh," she glanced away playing with the seam of the pillow distractedly, "often, you know, struggle to," she cleared her throat, "contain myself around you." She felt heat rising in her cheeks once more and she went on in a rush. "I don't mean that disrespectfully at all. I meant it as a compliment. But now I'm hearing it and-"

"Babe," you cut her off as you reached up to hold her face in your hands. She stopped as your eyes searched hers. "it's okay. I understand. I was just teasing you. And I don't feel at all like you're disrespecting me. In fact," you gave a slight tilt of your head, "you can consider me flattered."

Jessie digested your words and eventually gave a couple of slow nods.

"So," you started. You lowered your hands, one landing to rest on her lower thigh. "[y/roommate] is out. She won't be back for hours - if at all tonight, to be honest. Do you want to...?"

Jessie swallowed. After so many years and countless dreams, it seemed the moment might actually be here.

"I-If you want to."

You gave her a look and a single shake of your head. "Do you want to. It's not enough if I just want to."

She nodded, maintaining your gaze. "I do." She chuckled, unable to stop herself. "Most definitely."

You gave her a soft smile. "Okay." You leaned in and kissed her slow, similar to how you'd done several times before, but this time it felt different. Jessie barely stopped the moan that nearly bubbled up her throat.

"You don't need this, then," you said gently as you picked up the pillow by its corner and pulled it away from her. Habit almost made her grab it and hold it back, but instead she let you move it away.

This time, unlike any other time before, you didn't politely avert your gaze from her bulge; you stared unabashedly. She couldn't help but shift slightly under your gaze and she cleared her throat.

"Don't worry," you told her, "I like what I see already." Surprise washed over her as suddenly you lifted yourself up and swung a leg across her to straddled her thighs. "I can't wait to see more."

Jessie just stared up at you speechless, though thankfully her body at least know how to react and her hands came to rest on your hips.

"Is this okay?" You asked. It took her a second, her throat dry, before she nodded.

"Yeah." A crooked smile tugged at her lips. "I love it."

You captured her lips in a heated kiss, this time your hips slowly started to grind upon her. Her breath shuddered and her eyes flew open at the sensations that shot through her.

Holy shit.

She stared up at the ceiling, a slight panic coming over her at the realization that there was a very real chance of her blowing her load before you'd even taken her pants off. If you were deterred by how she paused, you didn't show it, instead you tilted your head and began to start kissing down the side of her neck.

She remained still under your touch, her eyes falling shut now. A couple of small whimpers escaped despite every effort to suppress them.

"If you want me to stop, please tell me. We can stop at any time," you told her as you continued to kiss her neck and rock your hips against the hard bulge in her jeans. "I'm serious."

Jessie opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out. She merely nodded to start, eventually saying, "I-I don't want you to stop."

"Then I won't," you said simply, a lilt in your voice as your hands began to wander down her chest.

"Oh God," she said, again, cursing the inability to control her reactions. Her hips began to now push back into yours and her hands pushed under your shirt, a small moan nearly escaping at the feel of your warm skin under her touch.

You moaned against her neck and her fingers instinctively dug into your skin. The sound of your moan immediately burned itself into her brain and she decided right then and there that she wanted to hear that sound again and again.

Her mouth hung open as she breathed heavily while you continued to patiently explore.

"You feel so good already," you told her as you rocked against her restrained member.

"Oh God," she said once more and eyes slammed shut as she tightened her grip on you, pushing against you to the point of holding you in place.

You paused and she forced her eyes back open to see you looking down at her in concern.

"I, um, no, it's- I just." She took a moment to breath. "I'm seriously going to - you know. I just need a second. I'm so sorry."

To her surprise, a wicked grin crossed your face and you kissed her hard.

"You have no idea how hot that is," you told her unequivocally.

"Really?" She said with a near glare and blatant skepticism. "Because I'm pretty sure that's what girls make fun of most of the time."

"Not me," you responded, unbothered. "The thought of you cumming just from me being on top of you like this? Gorgeous. That is so sexy."

Jessie was ready to offer a rebuttal when you shifted off of her, giving her some greater reprieve.

"We can save that for another time though," you said benevolently. "For now..."

Jessie unknowingly took a deep breath as you started undoing her jeans. She felt like she was in a dream or a daze as you began removing her clothes and yours.

She originally thought she'd be too shy to look at you in your fully naked glory, but she surprised herself with how she couldn't take her eyes off of you instead. Her gaze raked up and down your body and she couldn't resist caressing your skin.

The moans of approval you gave her as her hands wandered or she kissed your skin had her in an altered state. This must be what it felt like to be high.

Soon you were back where you started, holding yourself above her, but this time her bare cock standing tall, precum dripping over the head and down the shaft oh so eager to be inside of you. Your warm hand gently wrapped around her to hold her in place. She felt breathless.

"Are you sure?" You asked as you held yourself poised above her.

Her eyes were fixed on her cock in your hand and how hot and incredible it felt to just have her tip nestled at your entrance. She forced herself to look up at you.

"I'm sure," she told you.

You smiled gently at her and leaned in, kissing her softly. She'd barely leaned up into the kiss when suddenly the heat from your core that rest on the head of her cock began to envelope her. She broke off the kiss immediately, eyes closed and jaw slack as your wetness stretched tightly around her tip and you slowly sank down onto her.

It sounded ridiculous, but she felt like she was seeing stars even eyes closed. Her jaw dropped further as your core fluttered warm and wet around her length and you settled on top of her.

Holy fuck. She'd masturbated countless times before. Hell, she even used the fleshlight - once - one of her teammates got her as a gag gift. But fuck. Nothing compared to this. No wonder people liked sex so much.

Just when she felt she'd steadied herself, you began to lift yourself up on her hardness once more until it was just the tip stretching out your entrance once more.

"Is this okay?" She heard you ask. She couldn't formulate words, she merely nodded and inadvertently began to push you back down onto her waiting cock.

You may have chuckled, she couldn't be sure, but soon you were establishing a rhythm, steadily rising and falling on her length. She could barely open her eyes. She heard you moaning softly as you began to ride her.

"You feel so good inside of me," you said as you began to rock yourself against her faster.

It felt incredible. Too incredible.

Her throat seized up as she felt the familiar tightening between her legs come on way too fast and by the time she'd even recognized the feeling she was gripping your thighs, fingers turning white, as she shot rope after rope of cum inside of you.

"Oh f-fuck," she stammered as she subconsciously jerked up into you as her orgasm continued. She felt mortified as she realized what was happening, but she couldn't stop and she could do nothing more than helplessly rut into you, muffled whimpers escaping her as she tried to quiet herself.

As her body slowly relaxed in the wake of her sudden orgasm, she vaguely began to notice how you tenderly massaged her scalp, stroking her hair. She blinked in a haze as you laid soft kisses atop her head. Despite your affection, her stomach sank.

"I'm so, so sorry," she began, voice pleading as she looked up at you. "I-I don't know-"

"Shh, it's okay," you assured her as you caressed her face and tilted her chin to kiss her softly. "I'm not bothered at all." Still, Jessie shook her head adamantly.

"I'm so embarrassed. Oh my God-"

"Hey," you said, cutting her off and looking her in the eye. "It's okay." She watched in confusion as the faintest smirk crossed your lips. "Like I said. It's pretty hot. I take it as a compliment. And besides," you went on lightly, brushing her hair back with your hands once more as you wiggled your hips atop of her and she held back a moan, "there's still plenty more night ahead of us."

Jessie quashed the rebuttal forming in her mind and instead simply looked at you and gave a slow, adoring shake of her head.

"You're the best. And I'm lucky to be with you," she said instead.

Before she could let her nerves get the best of her again, she gently nudged your hips with her thumbs, coaxing you to get off.

"I want to do something for you," she said and it only took a split second for you to smirk at her again. "What good manners," you said with waggle of your eyebrows as you rose off of her, obliging her request.

Her eyes fell to the sheets below as a pool of cum spilled out of you as down her softening cock and onto the bed. She stared wide-eyed for a moment at the mess you two had made, her cock pulsing at the sight as the visual tickled some part deep inside her brain.

She refocused as you settled onto your back, your head on the pillow.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, you know that right?" You said as you looked down at her. Frankly, she was too distracted by the sight of your wet pussy, cum still leaking out, and it took her a moment to register your statement.

She frowned. "I'm so into this. You have no idea," she breathed as she placed a hand on the inside of your knee, your legs automatically parting at the gesture. Her pulse quickened in anticipation.

"You're beautiful," she told you as she began to lay a few kisses along the inside of your thighs. Your scent overtook her senses and she felt herself growing hard again.

"Hand me that other pillow," you told her and she did so. She watched as you lifted your hips and settled it under them. "I find this helps," you explained. Jessie simply nodded, taking a mental note.

She began kissing her way up your thighs, her arms hooked under your legs and fingers gently digging into the top of them. Her nose was nearly touching your lips when she paused briefly.

"Um, I won't be offended if you tell me I'm doing something wrong," she said. "Or if you tell me I'm doing something right. I want to make sure you feel as amazing as possible. I've read a lot, but still, you never know. And-"

She looked up your body at you to see you smiling - maybe even cheekily - down at her.

"What?" She asked slowly, feeling a blush coming on.

"Nothing bad," you promised. "That's the perfect approach. And you're observant. And a good listener. So I'm sure you'll do great. My only tip is - when I tell you 'don't stop' - I mean it. Keep doing what you're doing - don't switch it up or speed up. Just do exactly what you're doing."

Jessie nodded intently. "Okay. I will."

Settling back in, Jessie began kissing along the juncture between your thighs and your core. Again, your smell was intoxicating and her cock throbbed, wanting to feel you wrap tightly around her once more. But first, she wanted to focus on you.

She laid a tentative kiss on your lips. A second time, gently suckling your folds, the taste of your cum and hers hitting her tongue for the first time. She peeked her tongue out and gave a faint lick through your folds. Her ears perked up as your hips shifted before her.

She gave another curious lick, this time at your entrance, surprised at the sensation of your juices on her tongue. She continued to patiently explore, trying to capture every subtle change in your breathing, any slight movement of your body.

"Mm, right there, baby," you moaned in approval as she settled her mouth around your clit. She sucked and licked delicately for several moments, again noting every reaction you had.

"Like you really mean it," you instructed as you rolled your hips into her face. Whether it was your words or the action, it triggered something in her mind and she dove in. You let out a low moan, your hand raking through her hair as you tilted your head back into the pillow.

That was the affirmation she needed. She abandoned her inhibitions. She gripped your thighs, pulling you closer to her on the bed and loving the small cry you let out as she fully latched on and lapped you up. She moaned into you and felt a wave go through her at how you moaned in returned, your hand still gripping her hair.

"Holy shit, Jess. Yes - like that," you told her and any need she had to come up for air dissipated in favour of wanting more and more praise from you.

Your hips began to buck into her mouth, but she stayed with you and didn't let up. Her senses buzzed as your legs grew restless and she felt you digging them into the mattress.

She continued her eager exploration, seeing what seemed to get the most reaction out of you and in time as she sucked on your clit and flicked the tip of her tongue against it you let out a particularly wanton moan and held her head firmly in place.

"Yes - oh my God. Right there, don't stop," you panted.

She resisted the urge to quicken her pace and instead did exactly as you instructed. You noises ceased for a moment and she was about to wonder if she'd done something wrong when a crescendo of a cry came from your mouth and your thighs locked around her head. You began to spasm against her and she felt a rush of liquid run down her chin.

She continued to suck and lick despite the way your hips jerked and eventually your body grew limp. She remained attentive, not wanting to stop too early until she felt you gently push her head away with a breathy laugh.

"Okay, okay," you laughed. "Give me a second."

"Oh," she said as she lifted her head, looking at you curiously before laughing softly herself. "Sorry. I didn't know if you wanted me to stop."

"No, no," you dismissed as you pulled her up onto you, wrapping your arms around her as you let out a content sigh. "You did amazingly."

"You're sure?" She asked as she lifted her head to look you in the eye, only to see you laying there, head tucked into her shoulder eyes closed. "You can be honest. I want it to be good for you."

You chuckled against her, giving her a squeeze. "That was really good. Like...hard to believe it's your first time kind of good."

Jessie felt a few embers of pride flare up within her chest and she bit back a satisfied smile.

"Okay. If you say so. But, if you want something different at any point just say." She began to blush, but forced herself to say what was on her mind anyway. She said it jokingly, despite how true it was. "I want to make sure you're fully satisfied."

"Mm," you voiced as you kissed her shoulder. "If that's just a preview of what's to come, you have nothing to be worried about."

Again, that prideful feeling stirred in her chest, but this time it was shrouded in apprehension. There were still other aspects of this she had yet to impress you with.

"Speaking of," you said, a lilt in your voice as you leaned up and began to lay teasing kisses on her neck that sent goosebumps across her skin. Her jaw dropped as your warm hand wrapped around her stiff member. "Seems like you're ready for round two."

She allowed herself a short laugh. "Well, you were really fucking hot, so..."

"Well, you felt - and tasted - how hot you got me just then, so, I guess we're even," you said with a smile in your voice as your hand began to slowly stroke up and down her length.

Even this felt so good, though. In the recesses of her mind she was already trying to formulate ways for you two to get more alone time together - she wouldn't be able to wait weeks and weeks again for this.

As good as it felt, she felt more in control this time around. Having cum earlier seemed to have take the edge off - slightly anyhow.

She grit her teeth together as you continued to patiently jerk her off. She subtly rocked her hips into your hand and you moaned softly in approval in her ear.

"So, ready for round two?" You asked. Her breath hitched slightly as she pushed into your waiting fist.

"Whenever you are," she responded. "Seriously. We don't have to rush," she went on, mindful of your request to give you a short break. She chuckled. "We've waited this long."

"Was the wait worth it?" You asked as your thumb circled her tip and your tongue teased the shell of her ear. She shivered, fingers digging into your hips.

"Fuck," she breathed as her eyes closed. "Way more incredible than anything I could've pictured. You're so perfect."

"We haven't even got to the good stuff yet," you teased, nibbling at her ear as you hooked one leg around the back of hers, running it up and down her leg.

It felt like energy was pulsing through her body and she had to smile in disbelief at it all. "You're incredible. I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby," you said as you tilted your head to kiss her softly at first before deepening the kiss and eliciting a moan out of her as your rocked your hips against her, her length flat against her stomach and yours now.

"Now," you went on, whispering in her ear once more. "I want you inside of me." Jessie's breath hitched yet again.

Despite feeling more confident and at ease, the nerves she felt before started to come back.

“Do you want to be on top again?" She asked as her hands caressed your curves, appreciating your body as she awaited your response. She felt you shake your head against her.

“I want you on top. I can still call the shots while on my back," you said flirtatiously as you traced a single finger down her spine. She let out a breathy laugh, flustered by your reply.

"You're really sexy," she said in wonderment. "Did I tell you that already?"

"Not exactly," you said with a soft laugh as you grasped her hips and shifted both of you so she was poised at your entrance once more. You leaned up and kissed her. "I'll tell you what I like, but if you're feeling overwhelmed you can slow down or stop. Don't worry, okay? It's supposed to be fun. And it's about us connecting and being together."

Jessie nodded. "I know. And I hear you. But I also just want you to feel as good as you make me feel."

"Mm, you want me coming undone on your cock, do you?" You asked as you held her chin between your thumb and index finger.

"Shit," Jessie said as her eyes fluttered shut at your words alone. She smirked. "Come on, babe. You gotta give me a chance here."

It seemed to be the right thing to say because you beamed up at her and caressed her face.

"If I know you the way I think I know you, it won't be long until you know all the right things to do and say to have me falling apart at your every whim. So, I'm going to enjoy this while I can."

Jessie grinned above you. "While that sounds pretty fucking amazing, I really just love the idea of being the one to make you feel incredible. I hope I can do that for you."

"You're off to a good start already," you chuckled as you reached down to hold her cock steady at your entrance. You gave her a light tug and she allowed you to guide her forward, her tip nudging your entrance open. She couldn't help but let her head fall against your shoulder at how good it felt already.

Your other hand came to her ass and gently pushed her hips down, she moved with your pressure and she felt your heat envelope her as she slowly sunk inside.

"Fuck," she breathed at the sensation. Her fists clenched into the mattress next to you and it almost made her toes curl.

You chuckled good-naturedly as you ran a hand through her hair. "Feel good, baby?" Her head lolled against yours.

"Mm. You feel so fucking amazing. Holy shit," she said as your legs wrapped around her waist and she sunk even deeper into you. "Oh Jesus."

You moaned lightly arm wrapping around her shoulder while the other remained teasing her hair. "It feels good for me too. You're filling me up so full."

Her fingers curled tighter into a fist, the sound of the sheets straining in her grasp below her. "Christ," she said. She hadn't even completed a full stroke and she was nearly on the cusp again.

She didn't think she'd be into dirty talk, but from the way her cock twitched inside you at the mere words you whispered to her, she had to admit she learned something new about herself.

She felt short of breath, but you didn't rush her and she took a moment to reset before she felt composed enough to draw her hips back. She was slow and deliberate in the motion, admittedly not knowing exactly how much she could pull back so she pushed inside sooner rather than later.

She did this, slow and steady, a few times over, one hand of yours on her ass and the other now on her hip to guide her. The amount of concentration it took actually turned out to be a blessing because the edge that had seemed far too near a minute ago didn't feel so imminent now.

"Just like that," you said in her ear as she began to find her rhythm with less and less of your guidance.

She felt her confidence building just for it to be shaken as she drew back too far and felt herself pop out of you.

"Oh fuck," she said, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment right away. You massaged the back of her neck tenderly and reached down to grasp her cock which was now fully slick with your cum again.

"It's okay," you assured her as you lined her up at your entrance again.

Jessie quickly worked to dismiss her nerves; not wanting to get rattled by such a thing and just allowed herself to feel safe with you instead. She slowly pushed back inside of you, reassured by how you moaned softly in her ear as she filled you up once more.

Soon she re-established the earlier rhythm, this time knowing how far she could draw back before sinking back to the hilt inside of you.

"Is this okay?" She asked, voice shuddering ever so slightly with the movement of her thrusts. You nodded against her.

"It feels good," you told her and laid a hand on her ass again, pushing her hips a particular way. "Try rolling your hips like this." She didn't question it, just followed your lead and soon your head fell back against the pillow, mouth agape. "Oh fuck. Just like that."

She grinned, spurred on by your praise. It felt like bliss the way you began to cling to her and pant in her ear.

She was doing that. She was the one making you lose your breath, making you pant and moan, causing you to dig your fingers into her skin as your pleasure built. It was greater than anything she ever dreamed of and she wanted more.

She began to quicken the pace of her hips and by the way your moans heightened in pitch, you approved. She wrapped her arms under your back and held you close as she continued to rock on top of you.

"Shit, that's so good, Jess," you moaned as you clung onto her, nails digging into the back of her shoulders. She couldn't help but smile smugly though you couldn't see it.

"Yeah?"

The sounds of her thrusts in and out of you were wet and growing wetter. Her climax was close, but she was absolutely focused and determined to make you cum before her. She flexed her muscles pumping into you harder.

"Oh God," you said. "Fuck. I'm going to cum - don't stop, Jess."

Again, she followed your advice and remained as steady as she could, careful not to cum though knowing she was about to make you orgasm just about sent her over the edge.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and she bit her lower lip as she concentrated on staving off her climax. The way you whimpered in her ear and how your walls fluttered wet and hot all around her was driving her wild. She couldn't help the way the odd whimper or moan escaped her throat as well as she did her best to bring you to your high.

Finally, she felt you tighten around her in a way she hadn't experienced before. Her strokes stuttered as you began to convulse around her cock and she exploded inside of you for the second time tonight. She grunted, wincing at the overwhelming sensation as she emptied herself deep inside of you as you held her tightly.

"Oh shit," she breathed as she collapsed on top of you. Her body felt spent and exhausted in a way she'd never felt before. It was strange, but incredible.

"Oh my God," you panted beneath her as your grip on her grew slack and your limbs relaxed.

The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came back to your senses and Jessie was the first to speak next. She lifted herself up onto her forearms to see you, though her softening cock remained inside of you.

"Was...that okay?" She asked, newly tentative, brows furrowing in worry. To her surprise, you laughed, kissing her shoulder in consolation.

"I'm sorry. Me moaning your name, whining and panting underneath you and cumming all over your cock isn't answer enough?"

Jessie blushed, ducking her head slightly. "Well I don't know," she muttered.

"It was way more than 'okay', Jess. You're a natural," you chuckled. Again, she blushed deeper.

"Well, I don't know to feel about that," she complained slightly. "I don't want to be a 'natural' - I just...I don't know. Want to make you feel good."

"You did. Absolutely. You fit perfectly with me. You listened. You knew exactly what I wanted and needed." You sighed contentedly, head falling into the pillow further. "Fuck. That was so good."

"You'd tell me if you didn't like something, right?" She asked.

You huffed lightly, but gave her an affectionate look nonetheless.

"I know there is a mess beneath us on these sheets. And it's mostly me. That you can't fake. I promise you."

The image in Jessie's mind made her cock pulse and she began to grow hard inside of you once more. She kissed you, pulling back with a crooked grin.

"Any interest in round three?"

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #woso smut #g!p

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softestqueeen · 3 days ago

Note

emily pre it’s x female reader who loves spoiling emily? like the relationship feels like the reader is a sugar mommy, but it’s actually just wanting to see emily happy and loved? if you could that would be great!

a/n: hey anon, thank you for your request! i'm sorry i'm only getting to it now, i wrote it like 2 weeks ago in my notebook but didn't have the time to type it out! but here it is, enjoy! <3 warnings: none, just fluff I 400 words

꣑ৎ ever since emily and you have officially gotten into a relationship a little over a year ago, the team has started to notice some changes

꣑ৎ not just has emily become happier, but also her style has changed

꣑ৎ her pant suits started to fit a bit better and the quality of her shirts has also improved

꣑ৎ not to mention the new rings, earrings and the expensive watch adorning her writst

꣑ৎ the truth was, while emily was your girlfirend, it sometimes felt as though you were her sugar mommy

꣑ৎ your job as a fashion designer gives you not just the money, but also the ressources for your gift giving

꣑ৎ you buy her designer clothes that haven't been launched yet and designed and made some of the best clothes she's ever worn

꣑ৎ your love language has always been gift giving, so it was clear that you were about to spoil your girlfriend rotten. and now emily has a whole new wardrobe, so it's a win/win situation

꣑ৎ you just loved to spoil and take care of her. and with her hectic and chaotic job she deserved a little pampering here and there

꣑ৎ if she comes home from a longer case and you are out of town, there will be flowers and jewellery waiting for her in your shared flat

꣑ৎ and don't get me started on anniversaries. you always call hotch beforehand to make sure emily gets the day off and then organise the coziest dates

꣑ৎ high-profile restaurants with private rooms, special screenings in cinemas, special performances of plays and of course rented out malls for your girlfriend and ger bau-girls

꣑ৎ but emily doesn't even has to think about paying, you already took care of it

꣑ৎ "just let me take care of you, you deserve it baby."

꣑ৎ in the beginning she didn't feel that comfortable with you paying for everything, but she's since gotten used to it

꣑ৎ she had to, because you definetely didn't stop the gifts

꣑ৎ the rest of the bau just smiles when they see her with a new designer go-bag or the newest phone

꣑ৎ they're just happy emily's found someone that treats her right

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

requests open!

taglist:@silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

#x reader #reader insert #ao3 #love #fluff #no y/n #criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader fluff #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x reader headcannons #headcanon #request #requests open #lesbian #wlw #jemily

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kookygranger · 2 days ago

Text

Blue Christmas

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Aka Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Three

Summary: The town of Hawkins calls for you once again this Christmas, but with sugar-laced memories of a certain metalhead tainted by a recent breakup your stance on the holiday season has returned in full force.

Warnings: angst with fluff ending (it's a Hallmark Christmas!), casual holiday drinking, exes to smitten, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 6.8k

Author's note: It's been a year since we were all here in this little corner of the world so I would just like to say – whether there were more moments of accomplishments, love, gratitude, euphoria, or just more of the same as these past few years seem to have presented so many of us – I hope you find some form of joy and a moment to breathe at the end of another year, or at least that it comes to you soon. You are not alone in this feeling; we keep on moving.

Part One | Part Two

8 weeks ‘til Christmas

“I’m gonna book my flights tonight, do you want me to do yours too?” The blank stare you give Robin is reciprocated when she looks over at your silence. “The price will just go up if we wait.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Booking flights. For Christmas. To Hawkins.” Your frown deepens with every additional sentence she pushes out. “We talked about this last month.”

“You thought I was serious?”

She shifts her body to face yours on the sofa, tucking her leg in. “When I asked if you were coming you said, oh sure!”

“Robin, it’s called sarcasm. I thought you were fond of the language.”

She frowns back at you, “You’re not coming for Christmas?”

You shake your head, “You can’t be serious.”

“Everybody’s expecting you.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re not.”

“You had so much fun last year–“

“Robin.”

“–Max and El want to go ice skating with you, and Steve’s already making plans–“

“Robin!”

“What?!” She throws her hands in the air, her shoulders meeting her ears.

“Eddie and I broke up.”

She nods once, “I know.”

“Okayyy, so what makes you think I could ever go back to Hawkins?”

“You’re being a little dramatic.”

“I can’t crash your Christmas are you kidding?! I’m the ex-whatever now. I’m the outsider again.”

She rolls her eyes, “Except you’re not. You’re a part of the family. Everyone’s so excited to see you.”

“Uh, I don’t think Eddie is.”

She breathes out a huff, “I think if the two of you saw each other this whole thing would just blow over.”

You tuck your legs towards your chest, focusing back on the TV.

“I’m not having this conversation again. Eddie was very clear about what he wanted. He doesn’t want to see me, and I’m never ever going back to that town. Especially, not for Christmas.”

***

7 days ‘til Christmas – Hawkins, Indiana

“Are you just gonna stand there pouting the whole time or are you gonna join in?”

Robin’s voice snaps your attention from Frank Sinatra crooning from the open window of her parent’s house. You frown, looking down at the string of lights wound around your hands then up at Steve as he balances on the ladder, placing the lights along the gutter and brushing the snow away as he goes.

You peer around the ladder at Robin, holding her own bundle in the warmth of the house. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Try looking a little less like you’re being held against your will.” She shouts through the window.

You’re about to tell her that’s exactly what’s happening, thinking back to a couple of days ago when Steve had shown up out of the blue at your shared apartment, telling you he was going to drive Robin home for the holidays before suggesting you all go out for something to eat before they left. It had taken you 28 minutes to ask where on earth Steve was going, initially distracted by his detailed update of Dustin’s last year of college. You clocked the shifty look he shared with Robin in the front seat at the same time you realised you were about to turn onto the highway.

But Steve interrupts your bitter reminiscing with his own interjection, “Jesus Rob, leave her alone. I don’t see you out here freezing your ass off.”

You thank Steve as Robin rolls her eyes and resumes decorating.

“Anytime. We kidnapped you ‘cause we love you, you know that right?” He looks down in between the gap of his arms with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I know.”

He nods, “It’ll be alright.”

You give him a barely reassuring nod in return, ignoring the stinging at the back of your eyes while Frank sings about glistening treetops like the snow-capped ones lining the suburban street. You sniffle and wipe your nose quickly, hoping Steve thinks it’s just the cold and has nothing to do with how you wish it was his roommate who was comforting you instead, and the pain of knowing he was so close but wouldn’t care anymore.

You focus on unwinding more of the lights as Steve descends the ladder to move it over.

How the hell did you get dragged into this again?

***

I’m twirlin’ a cane made of peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh), uh huh (uh huh)

Nice sticky hands, sticky peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh) uh huh (uh huh)

Spun sugary cloud I’m floatin’ on

The fresh fallen snow melts into the tyre tracks left by traffic along the main street. You watch it through the frosted glass of the diner, one hand cradling the warm mug on the table in front of you.

“Gosh, you’d think they’d give the Christmas songs a break every now and then.”

“I actually kind of like this one.”

Nancy watches you watching the outside world, checking over her shoulder to see if Robin is still occupied in the bathroom before leaning in across the table.

“So, how are you feeling about seeing him? Have you two talked about it yet? Are you both going to be at everything together or are you taking turns? We could totally do something separate if you’re not feeling up to it–we could go shopping, just us two!”

You turn to smile at her, “Jeez Nancy, you should be a reporter or something.”

She shakes her head with a smile, “Sorry. I just know things can feel a little overwhelming coming back to Hawkins with everybody here. I don’t want you to feel left out or uncomfortable or anything.” She glances over her shoulder again, “And Robin kind of seems–“

“She’s not really accepted it, I think. Keeps saying it’ll all blow over.”

“Could it?”

Your attention is caught by a man ringing a gold bell in a Santa suit walking past the window before it falls on Nancy again, with her look of quiet hopefulness. She’s smart, defiant, and effortlessly beautiful. Even in your brief encounters with her, you’ve always been in awe of her strength. You think about Steve and wonder how long it took for the pain of being around her to turn into gentleness again. You think about asking her how you can be strong and vulnerable in love at the same time.

“It just didn’t work out. I’m sure he’ll find someone better for him soon enough. If he hasn’t already.”

“Oh, n–“ Nancy flinches as Robin slaps her hands on the table, before sharing a knowing smile with you at her proclamation.

“I just had the best idea!’

“In the toilet, Rob?” You laugh, “Can’t wait to hear this one.”

She slides into the booth seat next to you, bumping your shoulder gently with hers. “I think we ditch the civilized lunch, go home, get changed and meet back at the bar for a grown-up girl’s night. Whaddya think?”

You shake your head, “I don’t think grown-ups actually call themselves grown-ups.”

“They refer to themselves as adults,” Nancy nods knowingly, “and they pronounce it a-D-ults.”

You turn your head towards Robin, “Plus our last trip to the watering hole in this town didn’t really end well for us.”

“He won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. Steve said he works late at the shop on Fridays.”

“Robin.” Nancy’s warning glare is enough to make you feel flushed, but Robin only shrugs dramatically.

“Why does everybody keep looking at me like that?! This is my best friend,” her arm squeezes around your shoulders and you giggle when she pinches your cheeks together, “and I’m always looking out for her, which is why she is here and why we’re getting festively hammered tonight at the Hideout. No boys allowed.”

***

The Hideout is exactly as you remember. All sticky tabletops, dim lighting, and gruff patrons (with the exception of a few young home for the holiday-ers). Robin wastes no time in ordering shots, keeping both you and Nancy on your toes, until you’re very much not.

“I can’t even tell which is stripes and which is…the other one.” Nancy drops her pool cue on the green table. “’M calling Jonathan.”

“I’ll call Steve!” Robin follows her to the payphone on the wall.

“But we can fit one car.” Your slightly slurred voice of reason is waved off by Robin and it’s not long until you’re waving at Jonathan’s retreating car, feeling her head slump against your shoulder, your breath leaving you in clouds.

“I don’t feel good.”

You pat her gently on the head, “Steve will be here soon.”

“No, I really don’t feel good.”

“Are you going to throw up?”

She mumbles something that sounds like a yes into your shoulder and you move swiftly to turn her body away from you and support her off to the side of the bar where there’s shrubbery. She spits a couple of times first and you think it might be a false alarm before she’s vomiting all over the bushes.

“Okay, there we go.” You pat her on the back, holding her hair away from her face.

There’s a slam of a car door echoing across the small carpark that makes you turn your head, hoping it’s Steve. When you hear another one followed by girlish giggling your attention turns back to Robin, finally starting to shiver from the cold as the alcohol begins wearing off.

“C’mon Steve.” You mutter.

The hand that’s rubbing circles on Robin’s back freezes when you hear a familiar voice cut through the giggling behind you.

“And then the car just sprays the hell out of him with oil.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You glance over your shoulder with a hammering heart; one that feels like it drops to your stomach when you see those familiar curls and his dimpled smile when the pretty girl he’s with reacts to his story. The girl who has her hand tightly clasped around his leather jacket as they walk across the close-to-icy pavement. Your head snaps back around when they get closer, and you’re thankful for the poor lighting keeping you mostly hidden until Robin’s hacking up sick again.

“Gross.”

Your eyes screw shut at her words, your body stilling until you hear the front door of the Hideout close behind them both. You’re saved moments later when Steve pulls up right beside you.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve helps you get Robin standing upright again, grimacing at the way her head lolls as you both shuffle her into the passenger seat.

“Pretty sure it was the decision to switch to spiked egg nog to keep the “debauchery festive” that did it.” You sigh, then smirk at Steve’s perplexed look, hands on hips and head shaking. “Just remember you’re moving in with that.”

He winces, “Yeah, you forget the intensity of Robin when you’re not around it that often.”

“You two are going to have so much fun.”

Steve looks at you, eyebrows raising, “I thought it was us three? You change your mind?”

You shrug, biting your lip as he watches you with confusion, “I don’t really know anymore.”

He just nods slowly then, “Okay, that’s–okay. I wasn’t gonna start looking at places until the New Year, so you have a bit of time to decide. We can talk about it later.”

There’s a momentary silence that’s interrupted by Robin mumbling something about getting fries.

“No, we’re going straight home.” Steve shuts the passenger door and squeezes you on the shoulder before walking around to the driver’s seat. You look back at the bar, expecting to see him walk through the door with a cigarette prepared in between his lips, but you quickly get into the car before you get caught.

***

6 days ‘til Christmas

The screaming kid being dragged down the aisle away from the candy does nothing to soothe the headache you’re currently enduring. Nor does the slightly flickering and dim fluorescent lights of the small grocery store, as you struggle to make a decision in front of the potato chips.

You hadn’t slept much, despite your heavy limbs and swimming head when you slipped under the covers on the sofa bed. You couldn’t get the image of him smiling at another girl off your mind.

It had only been a couple of months did he move on that quickly?

Did he know her while you were together? Was she just waiting in the wings? Did something happen between them while you were–no, Eddie wouldn’t do that. But maybe developing feelings for someone else was the catalyst for him breaking it off. God, she was pretty.

Needless to say, your brain is a little fried from the tossing and turning and struggling to make a decision about snack foods. It even takes a moment to register the questioning call of your name behind you.

You turn around.

“I thought that was you darlin’. What a surprise.”

You smile, taking in the worn flannel and pristine trucker’s cap of the older man in front of you.

“Hi, Wayne.”

He embraces you briefly, the scent of a familiar brand of cigarettes stirring a pang in your chest.

“Ed never told me you were coming back for Christmas.”

“Oh, well I didn’t know until about two days ago myself. I’m not sure if he did either.”

“Robin wear you down, did she?”

“Kind of.” You offer him a small smile.

Wayne rubs the grey stubble on his jaw. “You’re welcome to come over again on Christmas day. Whatever happened between you two, you’re always welcome.”

You frown, “That’s really sweet Wayne, but I don’t think he–“

“Hey old man, you want the creamed corn or the regular–“

You make eye contact at the same time. Eddie walks down the small aisle holding up his options, his sneakers squeak when he comes to an abrupt stop.

“Shit. I mean–hi.” He shakes his head quickly.

Wayne crosses his arms, “Christ son, what kind of greeting is that to a lady.”

You burn under the attention of the two, the situation not what you had anticipated when you entered the store. Damn small towns. You didn’t get a good look at him last night, but he looks well. His hair is freshly washed and a little shorter than the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve gotten that trim he kept putting off. But there’s no dimpled smile. Just a look of uncomfortable shock.

“Um, I should get back to Robin,” you hold up the basket in your hands full of sugary hangover food and boxes of Kraft mac and cheese, “she’s feeling a little rough this morning.”

“You two been celebratin’ early?” Wayne smiles.

“Uh,” your gaze flickers to Eddie briefly, “just went to the bar for a few drinks last night, which Robin couldn’t exactly keep down.” You see the realisation hit him in real time, his brows creasing before his eyes widen, turning your attention back to Wayne as he chuckles.

“Well, you better get home quick then.”

“I will. Have a Merry Christmas Wayne.” You hope he doesn’t take offence to the almost grimacing smile you give him, but you can’t muster up anything better given the situation. “See you later, Eddie.” You turn without another glance at him, feeling embarrassment wash over you when you hear a light thump and Wayne’s grumble at Eddie’s complaint.

“Ow.”

“You better get your tongue untwisted next time, son.”

***

He watches the windows of his van frost over quickly after he cuts the engine and the warm air off. They said to expect heavy snow any day now, continuing into the new year. Eddie can’t move his hands away from the steering wheel.

He thought this would be the first time you’d see each other when everyone gathered at the Buckley’s for a Christmas movie night to kick off the festivities. He’d been preparing himself for this moment, even going as far as washing his hair this morning, which he was kind of thankful for given he’d run into you at the grocery store earlier.

You stole his words from him.

Not that you were wearing anything particularly flattering, he’s sure you actually had pyjamas on under your thick coat, in fact you looked a little tired. But, fuck. You always looked beautiful.

And Eddie wasn’t expecting to see you yet, especially not last night at the Hideout. He shakes his head, of course you saw that. He’s sure if there’s some higher power out there controlling his ill-fated life they had a good chuckle about that shining moment.

This was where you were supposed to be reunited, in a controlled environment around friends flowing with the holiday spirit – just like last time. He was going to find a quiet moment to talk to you, to apologise, to explain his cowardice.

Now he couldn’t work up the courage to leave the van.

It’s the banging on the window next to him that startles him out of his trance.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Despite the teasing, he can’t help but smile at the smirking, still youthful but grown faces of his younger D&D cohort.

“I bet he’s crying to a sad pop song.” Dustin nudges in beside Mike, the window framing them along with Will and Lucas as they all push up against the glass, the condensation not enough to hide their taunting looks.

The door creaks as he opens it, pushing the group away with a wave of his hand and a faux snarl. “Get inside, you little Gremlins.”

He’ll never tire of hearing their collective laughter, even if it’s at his own expense.

He follows the kids up the icy path to the house, ending up in a half-hearted wrestle with Dustin when he asks if it was Joni Mitchell he was listening to. He’s choking out a rendition of River when they tumble through the door with Dustin in a headlock under Eddie’s surprisingly firm biceps.

Your eyes are wide when they stop right in front of you.

“Can I take your jackets?”

Eddie straightens up quickly, his face flushed while the colour quickly drains from Dustin as his air supply returns.

“Uh, sure.”

You hang everyone’s coats up on the hooks in the hallway, and Eddie swears there’s a zap when your fingers brush his as he hands off his leather jacket. You’re wearing a cute Christmas sweater. Not one of those garish over the top ones, just a simple forest green and white knitted thing that makes you look cosy and makes him miss the feeling of your arms wrapped around him. You join the others in the living room off to the side of the hall without another word, leaving him standing there with his party.

“Well that was weirdly formal.” Lucas pats him on the back as he brushes past and the others follow his lead. Eddie sighs, wanting to just turn on his heel and bolt, but more determined to talk to you and encourage you to start looking him in the eyes again.

You’re separated from him by the group crammed into Robin’s parent’s living room. Bodies spread out across couches and cushions scattered on the floor, some innocent cuddling and even more innocent squabbling. You’re only a few metres away across the other side of the room, but it feels like you’re unreachable to Eddie. He still manages to steal glances at you, laughing along to the conversations, your pretty face lit up by the Christmas tree and the company.

After what feels like hours, he finally gets his moment near the end of the film, his attention drawn to you in the dark as you stand up and make your way to the kitchen alone.

He waits a minute, praying nobody else decides to join you, before rising slowly from his seat nonchalantly walking in the same direction.

He finds you at the sink with a glass of water, looking out the window at the Buckley’s backyard.

“They say it’ll probably snow overnight.”

You jump at his voice, the water in your glass spilling over onto your hand.

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie holds out his hands as if trying to calm a wild animal when you turn around.

“It’s okay, I was just…somewhere else.” You give him a weak smile, drying your hands on a nearby tea towel. He steps a little closer to you when it looks like you’re going to move away.

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but I wanted to clear the air about last night first.”

“We don’t have to talk about anything.” You shrug, still not catching his eye. “It’s not any of my business.”

His chest puffs up under his maroon sweater (the one you like) before he sighs, “She’s the receptionist at the shop. She keeps pestering me to get after work drinks with her.” He scrambles to get to the point when he notices you step towards the door, “She won’t get the hint every time I say no, and she stayed late last night just so I wouldn’t have an excuse. I was just tryna’ get it over with. Show her that we probably have nothing in common and let her down nicely I guess.”

“Eddie, you don’t owe me an explanation just because I saw you.” You smile, finally looking up at him and he hates the insincerity of it, the clouded over eyes that look straight through him. “You can see whoever you want, it’s none of my business.”

He shakes his head, reaching out to you, “I’m not seeing anybody, of course I’m not sweet girl–“ That gets a reaction out of you, and the anger, the lowering of your walls gets Eddie’s heart racing.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You’re looking at him now, really looking at him, eyebrows pinched in indignation.

“I want to apologise.”

3 months ago

He felt it coming from a mile off. The way you had an excuse every time you were supposed to come down to Hawkins. The way you switched subjects on the phone whenever he brought up future plans, concerts happening next year, a pay rise that meant he could afford a decent place when Steve inevitably moved out. No matter what everyone would say about his intelligence, Eddie Munson could read the writing on the wall.

So, when you finally caught up after weeks of dodged calls and visits, he had his mind set. Get out before he was pushed out. Be the breaker not the broken.

“So, Robin and Steve moving to Indy huh?

“Mhm.” He hums in reply as you try to stir up conversation from the kitchen. There’d been an awkward silence ever since he’d walked through the door of your apartment. You watch him sitting on the edge of your couch, a dark cloud hanging over him you were trying to shoo away.

“Didn’t think them being separated would last much longer,” you breathe out a laugh through your nose and he only nods, still distant. Your hands are clammy with nerves, a slight shake to your voice he doesn’t seem to notice. “You know actually, my lease is up next month, I was thinking of moving in with Robin for a while.”

“Your place is nicer.”

You tip your head back and forth, “Yeah, but she has an extra room since her roommate moved out.”

“What are you gonna do when she goes?” His leg starts to bounce, and it’s like his mouth is moving but his mind is elsewhere.

“It’s not until next year…I was thinking maybe, well not maybe, I was just thinking that I would–“

“This isn’t working, right?” His head snaps up and it takes you a moment to answer him under his furrowed gaze.

“It’s…what?”

“I mean, I’m exhausted from all the travelling back and forth and I know you are. Why the hell would you wanna spend your weekends in Hawkins?”

You take a deep breath, “Well, I wanted to talk to you about that–”

“Great let's talk. You can’t keep coming to Hawkins.”

“I–“

“And hell, it’s not exactly like I would move here.”

Oh.

He wouldn’t do the same for you.

“Wayne’s only getting older, and Steve well he’s gonna move to Indy but it’s still close, and Robin will be there, and the kids when they come home. And I can’t just quit my job, you know I’ve got a good steady thing going, and of course you can’t so you know…where does that leave us?”

It leaves you with moving with Robin to Indianapolis. Saying fuck it to your job because you can always find another one. It leaves you with moving in with Eddie because he can find work and still be close to Wayne.

At least, you thought it did, but now…now you feel like a fool in love. Rushing into something unreciprocated, because it hadn’t even been a year, why would he be willing to move away from everything familiar for you?

“Right.”

He sighs, rubbing his face before standing up and walking over to you. “Sweetheart I just don’t see how this can work anymore.”

You try to swallow the dryness in your throat away, “Right.”

“I don’t know how to…” he shakes his head and looks to the door, “Should I go?”

“If you want to.”

“Fuck.” He rubs his face harshly, “I’m sorry. I’ll just go.” He starts to walk away, pivoting quickly to give you a barely there peck on your temple then walking straight out the door with a slam that makes you flinch.

You’re left standing there, shocked into immobility. That wasn’t how you thought that conversation was going to go, but maybe you should have prepared for that. This is what happens when you leave yourself vulnerable.

You wish he’d left a more lasting kiss where you could feel the imprint of it.

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I should’ve called you and properly talked. With you and not at you. I’m so sorry. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”

“That’s nice.”

“Sweet–“ he corrects himself and with a breath says your name instead, “I want to apologise.”

You shrug, eyes glazing over again. “It’s whatever Eddie. Maybe I should thank you for having the guts to rip the band-aid off. To say how you felt before–before I made an idiot of myself.”

He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just move on and have a good Christmas with everyone.”

Eddie’s shoulders deflate as you walk out of the kitchen.

Maybe his fuck up was truly irreparable this time.

***

Three days ‘til Christmas

The day after movie night had been a girl’s day. Ice skating with El and Max in the centre of town, a light dusting of snow catching on your tongues as you giggled and listened to them gush about their independent lives away from home and the ever-present homesickness this time of year, even when they were with their families. Nancy had met you all after, driving you to the mall for some last-minute Christmas shopping. You’d pulled Dustin’s name for Secret Santa this year and found him some albums on cassette you’d thought he like based on what Eddie had told you he’d enjoyed of his musical teachings.

You waited up for Robin later, who’d spent the day with Steve and Eddie.

The next day, there had been a gingerbread house making competition at the Byers residence. Joyce, her two sons, El, Hopper, Robin, Mike and Steve were all there fighting over the best candy decorations and cheering over the collapse of each other’s creations. The rest were with Eddie at the mall.

Nobody had mentioned it explicitly, but it was clear that everyone was working around the issue of you and the boisterous metalhead by taking it in turns and whispering about who’d be where when. And so it was, that most of your week in Hawkins had gone by without seeing Eddie, except for the run-ins at the Hideout and the grocery store and the awkward conversation at movie night.

You were worried you were bringing the mood down. You’d tried to be comfortable around him for everyone else’s sake, but you mustn’t have been hiding your emotions very well.

So, you’d excused yourself from today’s activities – Christmas tree chopping and decorating at Steve and Eddie’s apartment – feigning a scratchy throat and headache that could only be cured by staying in and resting.

You’d actually ended up leaving the house to find the cute bookstore in town in search of something to keep you company. You’d browsed for over an hour, the comforting smell of the fresh pages of paper, the occasional jingle of the bell above the door as shoppers flowed through the store and the quiet hum of Christmas songs from the radio on the counter all enveloping you in this space of temporary peace.

By the time you leave the store, paper bag weighing one arm down as you button up your coat again, the snow that had been threatening to fall for days had well and truly blanketed the town.

“Oh.” Your voice is carried off in the wind, with the snow that’s falling down sideways. The streets are significantly quieter, the sky darker and the pavements covered.

You’d walked into town from the Buckley’s. It wasn’t particularly far but it seemed like miles in these conditions. You turn around, briefly considering calling someone from inside the store, when the shop owner flips over the sign to closed. Giving you an oblivious wave and smile which you return.

Walking it is then.

***

“I’m an idiot for thinking I could just cut and run. I hate not being able to talk to her. She’s angry, and she deserves to be, but she won’t even let me see that. I just want her to talk to me, be angry at me, yell at me. She’s not her when she’s around me anymore and it kills me. I just–I just want…I don’t know.”

Steve munches on popcorn from the bowl in front of him, while he waits for the fresh batch to stop popping in the microwave. Eddie is holding a bowl of cranberries, slumped against the kitchen table, laughter spilling through from the other room.

“Sounds like you want her back.”

“Not just that,” he shakes his head, “I still think she deserves better I just wish we could still be in each other’s lives.”

Steve crosses his arms, truly ugly Christmas sweater bunched up by his elbows. “What do you mean she deserves better?”

“I couldn’t be there for her most the time. Our relationship was over the phone, I couldn’t hold her back anymore. I spent half my life dreaming of leaving this stupid town and now I’m too chicken shit to do it. She should be with someone in her league you know. At least someone who lives in the same damn city.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Steve waves his hand around. “Are you telling me you broke up with her because of the distance?”

Eddie looks at him and shrugs, “Yeah. You knew that.”

“No, I didn’t. Anytime I tried to talk to you about it you just kept saying it didn’t work out.” He imitates a deeper, grumpy voice.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man. What difference does it make?”

Steve scoffs, “Indy’s like an hour and a half away, you couldn’t just hang on ‘til she moved?”

“She…what? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Eddie!” Robin rushes into the kitchen, causing him to straighten up with the look of panic on her face. “You need to find her.”

***

Cold. Cold. Cold.

Never has anybody been this cold in the history of life itself. Cold doesn’t even begin to touch what you’re currently feeling – or not feeling, like your fingers. How long does it take to get frostbite?

You thought you were closer to the Buckley’s, but now all the snow-covered suburban houses looked the same. It didn’t help that all you could think about was the cold! Practically wading through the thick snow as it continued to pelt you side on, your feet burning with blisters or chilblains, you weren’t sure.

Cold. Cold. Cold.

The tyres slip a little as Eddie pulls quickly to the side of the road, easily being able to make out your form despite the blizzard-like conditions camouflaging everything. You were wearing that pink beret you looked adorable in.

He leaves the engine running as he jumps out, almost slipping on a patch of ice when he grabs you by the arms. He has to yell over the wind, your body trembling underneath his gloved hands, not even able to speak.

Eddie gently maneuvers you back to the van, helping you up into the passenger seat. He blasts the heat even more once he’s behind the steering wheel, reaching behind him and procuring a blanket which he tucks around you, rubbing your arms for good measure.

“Just sit tight sweetheart, I’ll get you home.”

He peels off slowly from the curb, wipers screeching in complaint against the window as he struggles with visibility.

“It’s l-like we’re d-d-destined to repeat this scene ovver again. You evver see the movie g-groundhog day?”

His head snaps to you and he smiles, happy to hear your voice.

“I’ll always be there to find you in the snow.”

“It’s probably best I just stop coming all together.” You’ve thawed enough to stop chattering now, shifting to tuck yourself further into the blanket.

He frowns, “Don’t say that. Everyone wants you here.”

“I’m just making it harder for you to be with your friends.”

He shakes his head, eyes flicking between you and the road. “That’s not true.”

“Then why is everyone trying to keep us apart?”

“I think they were just trying to help you feel comfortable sweetheart.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I wasn’t here?”

Eddie looks at you in disbelief, before the van lurches and his attention pulls back in front of him.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The engine stutters as he rolls to the side of the road and cranks the handbrake.

“What’s going on?”

He sighs, “We’re out of gas.”

“What?!” You lean over the middle, peering at the dashboard and the blinking red light. “How can you be out of gas?”

“Because I was supposed to fill up the next time I went out and I’ve been driving around looking for you!” You shrink back into your seat. “Sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“I know it isn’t. What grown man leaves it until the light comes on.” A smirk pulls at his lips which grows even wider when he catches you mirroring him.

“This idiot.” He points two thumbs at himself.

“Should we find a payphone to call a tow truck?” You peer out the window, unable to make out much of your surroundings.

Eddie groans and hits his head repeatedly on the steering wheel.

“What?”

“I’m the one on call tonight,” he mumbles.

“Oh. You probably should’ve just brought the truck then.”

“Yep,” he leans back in the seat, rolling his head to look at you. “I wasn’t really thinking things through. You scared me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, and he offers you a small smile. “How did you know I was out here anyway?”

“Robin called her parent’s house to check in on you. Her dad said you’d gone out for a walk, but you hadn’t come back since the snow started.”

“Right. Thank you for finding me.”

He shrugs, “Like I said. I always will.”

You watch each other for a moment and Eddie’s eyes drop to your lips making a shiver run through your body.

It breaks him from his trance, “Sweetheart, we need to stay warm.” He looks over his shoulder at the back of the van, unbuckling his seatbelt and squeezing between the gap in seats. “C’mon.”

You follow him unquestioningly and he helps you with a hand on your arm. He notices the look on your face when he brings out another blanket and some pillows from a picnic basket among a small mess of boxes and junk he’d thrown back here without thought.

“They’re still in here from that time we went to Lover’s Lake. Haven’t used them since, obviously.” You offer a nod, taking the pillows and arranging them next to each other. Eddie throws the other blanket over the both of you, “Uh, we’re gonna have to get kind of close to–to stay warm.”

“Okay.”

He opens an arm out, waiting for you to slot in and pulling you both down to the floor. You breathe in his scent, a musky cigarette and peppermint enveloping you. Pure, Eddie. You’re both quiet for a while, the steady drum of his heartbeat against your ear. He sighs, and his breath shifts your hair a little, followed by his hand when he notices something.

“You’re wearing the earrings.” His hushed voice vibrating in your head makes you close your eyes.

“I love them,” you whisper back. “They make me feel a little less alone, which doesn’t make sense I know.” You feel Eddie’s lips press against your hair.

“I’m sorry sweet girl. I made a huge mistake.” Your arms squeeze him tighter, and his hand strokes the side of your face.

Eddie begins humming a tune, featherlight at first but the vibrations from his chest warm you up further.

“It was Christmas Eve, babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me, “Won’t see another one”

And then he sang a song

“The Rare Old Mountain Dew”

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you”

“Don’t make me sing the duet. You know I can’t sing.” You feel his smile against the side of your head.

“Then just whisper it back.”

You sigh, “You were handsome.”

“You were pretty, Queen of New York City. When the band finished playing, they howled out for more.”

After a while Steve eventually found you. Pulling up in his new truck and bursting the bubble with a loud honk. He took you both back to the apartment where everyone fussed over you, bringing hot chocolate and a hot water bottle as they finished off decorating the tree. After Eddie placed the star on top, he led you to his bedroom to find dry clothes.

You turned his gaze back to you when you undressed, kissing him once he helped you into one of his t-shirts; his Slayer one he so loved to see you in. You swayed back and forth for a moment before returning to the mayhem, the snow still falling heavily outside the window.

“Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

He kissed your eyelids.

“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

***

Christmas Eve

You’d actually fallen ill after that night, the snow-soaked clothes and below zero conditions culminating in a cough and a sore body. Eddie kept you in his bed and brought you cups of tea and soup.

Steve filled in for him when he went to tow his own van, and you threw a pillow at him when he said, “Aren’t you glad we dragged you down here now?”

By Christmas Eve you were feeling a little better, able to join in on the Secret Santa shenanigans, tucked under Eddie’s arm on the sofa. Dustin loved his tapes and gave you an awkward pat on the knee in lieu of a hug that could transfer germs. “I can’t afford the time off from school!”

You’re watching everyone’s interactions with each other, showing off presents, sharing stories, when Eddie untucks a red envelope from his back pocket.

“Merry Christmas.”

You beam at him, opening the card. Something falls into your lap. You pick up newspaper clippings with a confused furrow of your brow Eddie wants to kiss away.

They’re listings, for apartments in Indianapolis.

“Thought I’d beat Steve and Robin and steal you for myself. What do you think, roomie?”

You kiss him in response, leaning away when neither of you can keep your smiles from growing.

“Oh, I left your gifts at Robin’s.”

Eddie tilts his head, “You got me something?”

“Just some things I came across and put aside throughout the year. A couple of records, and this book I think you’ll like, and a new notebook ‘cause you’re always losing pages out of that black one.”

“You brought them with you?”

You shrug, “Yeah, well I figured I could just leave it under your tree and you’d think someone else got them.”

“I’d know it was you.” He smiles.

“Probably.”

He presses a kiss to your jaw, a bright flash distracting you behind your eyelids.

“Got ya.” Robin snatches the Polaroid from the camera’s slit, shaking it a couple of times before handing it to you with a wink.

It’s the perfect moment of contentment. Sharing a blanket on the sofa, eyes closed in peace, framed by the Christmas lights hanging on the wall.

It’s the first photo to be pinned on your fridge in your shared home.

Tagging: @bettyfrommars, @storiesbyrhi, @allthingsjoeq, and from last year @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 and @skrzydlak just in case x

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #towtruck!eddie #stranger things au

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avelera · 3 days ago

Note

I see a lot of posts and fanworks centered on Jayce's affection/pining for Vik, but not so much of the other way around! Jayce is very physically touchy and expresses outright, often, what people mean to him.

What I've picked up is that Viktor touches *objects* with tenderness, potentially especially when thinking of other people. The gear, the hexgate, the exchange of the runestone, wearing that gaht dahm blanket the whole season... But nevertheless he's still much more reserved. It's easy to conclude that the feelings weren't mutual, or not to the same extent (maybe canonically they aren't, but... :') we can [hextech] dream) - but what if they're just much more subtle on Viktor's part?

Thoughts on this?

I think it's very clear that Viktor loves Jayce just as much as Jayce loves Viktor. We have a lot of instances of proof for that.

1 ) The biggest, most dramatic has got to be the implications of Wizard Viktor resetting the timelines who knows how many times to ensure that he and Jayce meet. There could be an element of selfishness to that, in theory, because he needs Jayce to show him, "There's no prize to perfection, only an end to pursuit," and save him from a fate literally worse than death. But I think given Wizard Viktor's tone and delivery there's a lot of implication buried in there that without Jayce in his life, Viktor just doesn't see it as worth living. Considering that Jayce appearing is also what paused Viktor's suicide attempt in S1, I think we've got multiple scenes to support that Jayce gives Viktor a reason to live.

2 ) I've been meaning to talk for awhile about how we can use the (actually bogus for real people) "Love Languages" idea as a framework for understanding how Jayce and Viktor love each other and I think it's a useful way to answer your question now.

Quick version:

Jayce's love language is (obviously) Physical Touch.

Viktor's love language is (more subtly) Quality Time.

Let's dive into this and what that means for how Viktor shows love to Jayce in more subtle but just as meaningful ways throughout the show.

To start at the beginning of the relationship, Viktor's love langue being Quality Time why he's so touched that Jayce immediately folds him in as a partner in Hextech and clearly begins to feel affection at the very least right away for Jayce based on their working together on Hextech.

But I think there's a more tragic flip side to Quality Time as a way of Viktor showing love, because he also uses that language to hide his love when he thinks it would hurt Jayce. As his illness progresses and his body fails, he withdraws more and more, I believe to spare Jayce the pain Viktor is going through. Jayce notes that Viktor often disappears for long stretches of time without explanation, which I think further hints that Viktor is hiding his declining health from him.

Viktor also withholds knowledge from Jayce of the experiments he's doing in a way that I think is meant to shield himself from Jayce's possible intervention, sure, but which I also think is to shield Jayce from possible prosecution if for example Viktor was found with Shimmer on him and that he's doing illegal experiments. I personally believe that Viktor puts himself through a lot of pain in S1 in small part because he's worried about Jayce's potentially negative reaction (which indicates love and fear of losing Jayce's love) but in much larger part because he wants to shield Jayce from the fallout of his admittedly reckless actions (which indicates love as well).

As Singed says, Viktor's actions might lead to him losing out on love and legacy. Viktor's immediate thought is that this can only mean Jayce, but he trusts Jayce to understand. I do believe Viktor's certainty wavers based on the encounter on the bridge, and he wants to live more than he wants to risk Jayce shutting him down, but as we learn in their final scene, he needn't have worried. Jayce did understand. Viktor's first instincts about Jayce were 100% right.

But as for more ways Viktor shows love I'd point to a few:

He's always in the lab, which is their shared space. If we take Quality Time as his love language, that in part is him always making himself available to Jayce. It's one reason why I think he gets increasingly hurt in S1 when Jayce spends less time there, it makes Viktor feel neglected when he's offering himself in his own language. Jayce saying he'll return to the lab in S2 shows at least some understanding of this and that he messed up and wants to fix it. Unfortunately, for a variety of reasons some of which might be beyond Viktor's control like the Hexcore controlling him to some extant (we'll never really know), it's too late by that point, and Viktor withdraws (the outward sign of) his love by leaving.

We can see Quality Time being a way Viktor shows love too in the way he smacks Jayce's hand away on the bridge (without having to look, btw, he just knew where it would be which is nuts) and then, as soon as Jayce apologizes, allowing the touch once more. He knows Jayce's love language is Physical Touch and he accepts Jayce back in to his Quality Time very quickly once he gets that (admittedly very needed) apology.

I'd argue one reason Viktor doesn't show as much verbal care for Jayce in S1, like asking how he's doing or showing more understanding for the fact he's overworked as a Councilor, is because Jayce's overwork is a symptom of him denying Viktor his Quality Time as a love language. Viktor is only human. It's hard for him to be understanding and sympathetic to the fact that Jayce is overworked when that overwork is the reason Viktor feels neglected right now. Like many people, he would rather show his disapproval and hope that expedites Jayce coming to the realization that he should stop overworking and come back to the lab and Viktor, rather than offering comfort Jayce might need if it theoretically prolongs Jayce's absence or gives the impression that Viktor in any way approves of his time away from the lab.

To jump forward to their final scene in S2, I think we can also use Viktor pushing Jayce away and telling Jayce to go as showing Quality Time as a love language. Namely, that Viktor is willing to deny himself love and happiness to keep Jayce safe, in a selfless demonstration of love in Viktor's love language.

And finally, Jayce fully understands the Quality Time love language because he replies with the fact he's not going to leave, that they will spend what could be these final moments together. And we get Viktor fully parsing that Jayce's love language is physical touch because he accepts and reaches back for Jayce's touch in those (potentially) final moments.

Oh and as a final note, I do love your point about how Viktor caresses objects that remind him of Jayce, and I think that is still Quality Time. The blanket represents the embrace they shared before they parted and Jayce's love for him, which Viktor holds close and wraps around him even as he descends into being more and more inhuman. It is the mark of his humanity and the symbol of his enduring love for Jayce that he won't let it go. In a real way, he's spending "Quality Time" with Jayce's love by keeping it constantly wrapped around him. Similarly, the cog shows he is thinking about Jayce and missing him too, holding that memory close.

Even as the Cult Leader and post "Evolution", Viktor shows that he wants to spend time with Jayce again and he's baffled when Jayce point blank refuses him, not connecting until the final scene that the pursuit of "perfection" was what was keeping Jayce from his side when Jayce really did want to be there, which was particularly baffling for Viktor because he thought the pursuit of perfection was what he needed to win Jayce back. Once he set it aside, Jayce was literally waiting there with open arms to take him back.

#jayvik #arcane #arcane meta #jayce talis #viktor arcane

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sturniqloo · 20 hours ago

Text

° NOTHING ELSE °

pairing: Chris Sturniolo & fem!reader

in which: after a long day at work all you want is to be close to your boyfriend. ♡

~warning: nothing,its all fluff,nicknames,English is not my first language! ~

Wednesdays. How you hated them.

You're currently sitting in your office,having tons of paper to sort out and put into system for company you worked for,the sound of rain hitting the windows,keyboard of your computer clicking as your fingers almost finished all the work,only other sound was little hums you left throughout the time...the sighs,the deep breaths,the melodies that were in your mind.

It was enough of a bad day for you,your period,the stupid rain,the coworkers being annoying..just everything was irritating you,and the tons of work didn't help much.

Only thing that helped your mind ease was Chris..knowing he was at home,waiting for you,made you feel warm and relaxed. He was everything you needed. Nothing else.

As you glanced at the clock on the wall,it was near 01:30pm.

'Just an hour and a half more untill being home.'

You thought to yourself .

Your head pounding and the sudden sound of growling in your stomach breaking the silence. You haven't eaten anything yet,but lunch at home won't be soon enough and at this moment the only thing you wanted was to just lay down,sleep and eat. With a big exhale,you moved the chair and leaned back,rubbing your eyes in exhaustion as your gaze fall to the phone on the desk. Thinking about calling Chris sounded like the best thing possible right now. Without hesitation you picked it up,your finger hovering over his contact before calling him. As soon as he answered you can hear his voice.

'hey ma',what's up?'

'hey baby..nothing..-im just exhausted and bored..wanna be home right now'

Your voice tired and soft over the phone. It was clear you needed rest.

After a long call with Chris,time passed,it was now 2:15pm.

'Ugh,just a little more..'

You said to yourself with a big sigh,wishing the time can just pass as soon as possible.

Fastly enough it was time. The clock hit 3pm. Signaling it was time to go home.

You got in the car and drove to your and Chris's house,opening the doors,the warm cozy atmosphere hitting you immediately,the smell of a welcoming home.Taking your shoes off,and putting your coat away you see Chris waiting for you on a couch,your gaze falling to the table in front of him,with bouquet of flowers and ordered food. You could feel your face grinning into a smile,as he stood up towards you.

'hey baby,m'so glad you're back..finally.'

With a kiss on a forehead he pulled you down on the couch to lay with him.

'how was work darling? anything happened?'

He asked while running his hands through your hair softly.

'no,just ton of works,it was very exhausting today...'

You answered while relaxing into his touch,the headache already feeling better.

'well..we can do something if you want,like go out for a walk or little drive..whatever you feel like doing,im down'

His voice was soft and sincere,always knowing what to say or do to make you feel instantly better.

'mhmm..we can stay home tonight,exactly how we are right now,i don't wanna move,just wanna be like this-close to you..it's all i need at the moment'

Chris instantly got that and just relaxed with you,cuddling you even more and just doing everything he could to be there for you.

'i love you,you know that right?'

His voice suddenly breaks the comfortable silence.The words full of truth and emotions.

'yes baby,i love you too'

The only sound right now was your giggle,you always enjoyed times like this with him.You could do it forever,it was all you needed.

Just Chris,and nothing else. ♡

author's note: sorry if this is not good,or long,but Im trynna get back into writting,i hope you liked it,lmk what yall think and ofc I always take requests! ♡tell me if you wanna be added to my taglist! also wanna thank to @strnilolover my Gabby for giving me an idea,love her so much ♡

° Lili's corner °

no pressure tags: @chrislilcumslvt @chrislilcumslvt @mattscoquette @adoreechxmpion @strnilolover @mattslolita @sturn10log1rl @luvleyangeldust

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lesbiansforboromir · 1 day ago

Text

Here's a more compact review of the War of the Rohirrim film for anyone interested! SPOILERS AHEAD!!

Positives;

The backgrounds were all very beautifully painted and the lighting really elevated the character design and smoothed over the janky animation. Where other aspects of the film fall off, often the background artistry and lighting over all of it still manages to convey a very dramatic and immersive moment to the viewer. It's probably the best part of the film.

The part where Helm's ice-ghost phase is teased was really cool and atmospheric and I got a little thrill of what I'd kind of always been wanting from this film.

Frealaf was pretty lovely (what little we got of him) and I appreciated that his darker skin tone was implicitely associated with his Gondorian heritage. I THINK I appreciate the idea that Frealaf's father was Gondorian, though I wish it had been better utilised.

I also really liked the moment where Helm is about to fight Freca and he gives his crown, signet ring and mantle over to Frealaf in this like... symbolic giving up of his Kingship in this moment where his actions are about to make him unworthy of it.

I appreciated Olwyn existing as an older female character in a purely action based roll.

Helm's voice actor and design were pretty cool, I came around to enjoying how much effort they put into making him extremely imposing.

Hama being a twink who was born to be a bard but forced to be a heroic second prince was a nice touch.

General Targg of Dunland might have been my favourite character, inspite of the fact that I am really curious to know where this organised military of Dunland is for him to reach the rank of 'General' in.

Negatives;

Gurl the racism. See here for more details.

The overall narrative seems to me direly lacking in like... basis. I am lead to believe Hera's journey is about her reclaiming her right to choose her own life for herself. But she is never actually pressured into any choice, nor does it appear that her father ever restricted her freedom in any way. So I don't really see where her choices were actually removed to such a degree. If her desire is to see her choices respected by the men in her life, well that never happens for either Helm nor Wulf, who force her to let them die or to kill them, respectively. It feels like in their rush to censor any negative aspects of Helm they kind of removed the reason Hera is frustrated in the first place, he cant be TOO much of a misogynist etc etc.

This is twisted up within 'gurl the racism' but Wulf's manner and presentation make me FEEL like he is a villain we are supposed to mildly feel for? We see him as a child, we see him struggle with what he's doing, we see his clear desperation and despair and hear him talk about loneliness and suffering... but at the end of the day in the way that it is presented Wulf is fundamentally foul and deluding himself and all his problems appear to be of his own making. In general it is extremely uncomfortable for the 'obsessive stalker' villain to also every now and then say 'I am devastated because of how my dunlending blood has been prejudiced against all my life by your family and the wider rohir society' like... by only him mentioning it but it never being actually acknowledged by anyone else it just comes across so shallow and unsettling.

This is a review from my book-biased perspective so understand it within that lense but still gurl... the lore. What the hell do you mean the eagles speak a language only a wizard can understand? No they can just speak! What do you mean there is A watcher in the water in some undisclosed lake in Rohan somewhere? There is one Watcher and it's name is very specific to the doomed Moria expedition! At least give this new squid fellow a rohir name. Speaking of!!

IS IT SO HARD TO NAME ROHIR CHARACTERS IN..... ROHIRRIC?? OLD ENGLISH IS RIGHT THERE... HERA HAS NO MEANING... THERE ARE SO MANY COOL HISTORICAL ANGLO SAXON PRINCESSES YOU COULD CHOOSE FROM...

Included in the 'gurl, the lore' segment but in need of it's own post so I will try to be brief; (Theoden voice) where was Gondor... when a herd of Mumakil were marched by Haradrim mercenaries across the Anduin, up through the Pelennor, across Calenadhon and over Rohan's southern border... did they sneak by... were they stealth Mumakil, did they have elven cloaks too.

But also Where Was Gondor just in general. Like to the detriment of the actual narrative, opening up plot holes that didn't even need to be there, the fact that Gondor is ALSO supposed to be at war right now is completely ignored and discarded.

THE BATTLE OF EDORAS... TF ARE YOU ALL DOING! Like I know it is kind of hypocritical of me to request sensible war tactics when we're adapting Tolkien, he did not give a good example, but like... where were the horse archers, why are you charging down an infantry-only army, why even be on a horse if you aren't going to use greater mobility to your advantage, this isn't a siege, this is YOUR territory this is an open field!! Come on! AND ANOTHER THING, did we really have to make the victory of the Dunlendings over Edoras so disconnected from their own effort? Like betrayal is fine, but this was also a well supplied and competant force, and that was a major part of their victory. These were matched combatants! Just kind of another way in which the dunlendings were robbed of any cohesive motive, narrative or skill.

To my admittedly untrained eye... the animation sucks? Like it's clunky and janky and you can see the frames transitioning between each other, the movements often feel awkward and a lot of the drawings are just bad! The Eagles are SO stiff, as are the horses which seems like a cardinal sin in the Horse Lord Film. And then I couple that with the multiple completely unnecessary spinning camera shots Hera gets which are annoying, superfluous and a bizarre thing to spend time on when the rest of the film needs so much more care and attention. In general the GULF of difference between how beautiful the backgrounds are vs how bland the character art is is kind of jarring.

Hera's design.... I hate it. Look I know it's anime but DID Hera have to have thigh high boots... did she really... Why is she so pale if she's supposedly riding sleeveless across the vast countryside everyday? Can a single supposedly feminist film about a 'wild' female protagonist let that woman be like... dirty, or not so agonisingly thin, or give her messy or god forbid short hair. At one point when she is grabbed by a troll and hung in the air they linger uncomfortably long on her ass which her costume design is specifically designed to allow for maximum viewing detail.

The designs of the Dunlendings, Haradrim and especially the Mumakil are all so grim. Like I liked Freca's design to a degree, it was more potent with symbolism and patterning and such, but the rest of it is just SO FUCKIN- well they're ugly! and therefore evil! Do you get it? The ugly grey animalistic people are evil! The Mumakil have literal red snake eyes just so you know they're 'evil animals'. I can't take it anymore, at one point the guy who Eomer throws a spear at in the trilogy just... turns up, like it's literally just him down to the facepaint. And speaking of...

SHUT UP ABOUT THE PJ TRILOGY, SHUT UP AB- besties this film's intro plays alongside the ring theme... THE RING MUSICAL THEME!!!!?? Lines from the films are reused so often and so WILDLY outside of their actual context and meaning that it makes me flinch.

There is a plump little fellow called Leif who is the royal Page I think and everytime someone called Freca fat in such a vitriolic way I was like wow... I mean Leif is right there guys!

Overall a 4/10 from me, it is a watcheable but shallow film that I suspect was more of a cynical attempt by Warner Bros to keep their death grip on the rights to the books, since I think they would have expired if they didn't do something with them soon.

#text post #long post #wotr spoilers #the war of the rohirrim #erran vs peter jackson #wotr critical #wotr

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maxx-the-queer · 2 days ago

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I do enjoy the fact that each faction gives Rook a couple of unconventional familial figures.

Antivan Crow Rook gets the perpetually together-and-split-up Teia and Viago, whose love languages are bickering and poisons. Rook is Viago's favourite and he would never admit it to them, even if Teia is all too happy to expose his affection with her playful barbs.

Mourn Watch Rook gets Myrna and Vorgoth, the former of whom is akin to a college professor who found a baby in their science lab and the latter of whom is most definitely one of those mysterious executors from across the sea but it's fine because they're just Vorgoth and nobody questions it.

Shadow Dragon Rook gets T4T icons Tarquin and Ashur, a Templar who absolutely despises his job and the literal Black Divine, whose anti-slavery group is so full of queer people it may as well be a gay club. Same bickering energy as Teia and Viago, minus the poisoning and cyclical divorcing.

Grey Warden Rook gets Antoine and Evka, the most married wardens to ever exist. Antoine is the absolute sweetest man alive, and the only Orlesian allowed ever. Evka is incredibly competent and has everything under control. Their dates end with explosions. Everything is perfect.

Veil Jumper Rook gets Irelin and Strife. Strife is battling Viago for the grumpiest and meanest dad award. Irelin is clearly the golden child and favourite sibling and he makes that clear to Rook.

Lords of Fortune Rook gets Isabela and Rowan, a pirate turned allegedly somewhat ethical treasure hunter and Rivaini seer who regularly convenes with spirits. Neither of them are parents to Rook, they hold the most insane much older cousin energy though.

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baddiewiththebook · 3 days ago

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Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | p. 10

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

August 1983

Night falls onto Hawkins. The street lamps flicker on. A hopeful Eddie sits amongst the clutter of his living room. One of those street lamps illuminate the Forest Hills Trailer park just enough to cast shadow across each of the tiny trailers littered across the property. Your trailer is the only one of interest to Eddie.

The trailer has been quiet almost all day. In the morning, Eddie recalls Robin’s mother picking you up. There’s no clue what the two of you get up too when you’re together. Shopping. Chatting. Drinking coffee. Coffee is just about as bitter as Eddie feels right about now.

You must have come home for a moment when Eddie wasn’t watching your house, just to take your mom's car out for a joyride. That couldn’t have come off any creepier. Eddie doesn’t normally watch your house. He just waits for the opportunity to come by, since Gareth has already rejected the suggestions that he’s called him about earlier. He won’t say, but Gareth is busy this evening.

Jeff’s line goes straight to his answering machine, so he sighed loudly into the phone and hung up. Hopefully, Jeff hears the message before his mom does. She’ll cry that someone is out to get her. If only she would put away the fiction that these newspapers are printing these days. The Devil hasn’t touched Hawkins, and nor does he exist.

It becomes clear to Eddie that you are also busy this evening. What are you up too? Your mom’s car is gone, so either she has come home quietly for once or you’ve taken the car. Taking lessons from Eddie has boldened your actions. If the cops were to catch you, you would be thrown a heavy fine. The cops don’t pay much attention unless you’re a Munson, it seems.

Eddie kicks a couple empty soda cans trying to plant his feet on the coffee table. It doesn’t bother him any. The remote for the television is just out of his reach, despite having longer limbs. Something he got from his father, Wayne would say. There are a lot of similarities between the two men that Eddie avoids breaking down.

Al Munson is a waste of oxygen. The bastard can’t even be bothered to give him a phone call. He can’t blame Eddie either. Eddie doesn’t have his number. Hell, he doesn’t even know where Al is. Maybe he’ll visit his mom’s grave. Yeah, he found out she’s taking a dirt nap a few months back. It surprised him that this news doesn’t affect him as much. Maybe she should have tried showing up for a birthday.

Eddie dwells until he becomes apart of the living room furniture. The dimness of the room helps rock him into a meditative state. Although, his eyes draw to the parted curtain that he can peak through to see if you’ve come home yet.

The trailer is still dark.

Lights begin to flood the trailer park, and the familiar crunch of gravel has Eddie’s ears perked up. You could be home.

It is not you.

Uncle Wayne is home from a day at the plant. This would be a short visit. He has plans with his coworker, who stays in his car to keep the engine warm.

Ugh.

Eddie sinks back into position on the living room couch. A metal spring prods him in the rear.

Wayne stomps up the front steps of the home, before jangling his key in the lock. His nephew surprises him on the couch. The home is dark enough to be empty. Yet, Eddie sits unsettled amongst the dirt of the living room. Damn. He could have at least cleaned up.

“What are you doing, son?” Wayne begins to shred his work boots to trade them for something less filthy.

“My friends have abandoned me,” Eddie says through a haze of smoke from the joint he had earlier.

Wayne has never reprimanded Eddie for smoking weed in the home because every once in a while Wayne too needs to relax. It’s an unspoken rule between the men to never speak about weed. As long as Wayne doesn’t catch Eddie with a joint, he can ignore the smell, then Eddie is free to do as he pleases. It doesn’t cause him too many problems, and that’s all that matters.

However, if Wayne has the cops at his door for something Eddie has done at two in the morning, Wayne will rain hellfire on the tiny trailer home. Eddie will not become his father.

The theatrics have become normal to Wayne, so when the boy throws his gangly limbs across all parts of the couch, he snorts. You must have plans.

Eddie doesn’t have much of a brain when it comes to you. The thoughts are crumbled into a pile of mush. If he’s not careful, Eddie’s tongue might drop from between his lips. When he starts panting, Wayne will have cause for concern.

“You’re never home on a Saturday,” Wayne points out.

“I have nothing to do,” he sighs.

His uncle mutters, “so you’re sitting in the dark?”

“Are you going senile on me, old man?” Eddie lifts his head.

“Watch it, boy,” uncle Wayne points a thick finger at him. “I’m heading out. Long day at the plant. Er- clean something. Would you?”

Eddie groans.

“Love you too,” Wayne stacks a ball cap over his head, before leaving his nephew. There’s no way that he’ll actually clean. But, Wayne tries.

It’s his boredom that Eddie does get up, and he does begin to wipe the coffee table of beer cans, soda cans and old cups that never made their way to the sink. He doesn’t enjoy living in a pigsty, but the maid is away on a vacation. Chuckling to himself, Eddie finds the letter from his school that he’s been hiding from Wayne. Granted, underneath a stack of other mail isn’t the best hiding spot. Eddie was in a rush when he saw the blasted letter. It had come flat and obscene. Bold red lettering spells out ‘IMPORTANT’ then follows ‘To the Guardian of Eddie Munson,’ as if they don’t know Wayne Munson by now. Everyone knows the soiled Munson name.

Honestly the town humors him. Even pretending to have an ounce of care for Eddie is laughable. They just want to bend his mind into something socially acceptable. The long hours behind a school desk, bouncing from classroom to classroom has left Eddie enough time to think. If he ends up behind a corporate desk, twiddling his thumbs as the hours creep by and worrying that his typing speed will get him the boot from tight wad boss, Eddie might just loose his mind.

This year he might not graduate. It’s too soon to tell, but his teachers all give him the gray stare. Eddie’s dad brought an estranged relationship to the halls of Hawkins High School when he attended. All of the Munson’s to follow would be the least impressive to them. Lucky for Eddie, he’s the only burden that Hawkins will ever have to deal with. Well, unless his dad was able to charm himself into another woman’s pants and she produces another Munson. That’s one step closer to world domination.

There is a knock coming from the front door leading Eddie to believe that Wayne has forgotten his keys. He arms himself with a crass joke about Wayne’s age. When he swings the door open, however, Eddie finds his friend Jeff bouncing at his heels about something.

“What’s up?”

Jeff allows himself into the trailer knowing that Eddie doesn’t mind hosting. After all, he’s come all this way just to be told to go home? Please!

“You got food?” Jeff beelines for the kitchen. He doesn’t have to open the fridge to know it’s empty. Neither Eddie nor his uncle are famous for their cooking. No, he opens the freezer where there are stacks upon stacks of frozen meals. It begins to get a bit sad to Jeff that Eddie hardly gets the chance to sit down to a warm family meal.

That’s the privilege his own family holds. Mom works a nine to five at a beauty salon, and dad delivers papers. They hardly get a moment to see each other, but when they do the family is exactly what you see on television. Well, maybe not exactly. Hey! That’s what he gets for being Black in America.

“Turkey dinner,” Jeff finds the meal he wants, and before turning on the microwave he calls to Eddie, “roll up a joint! Turn on the tv!”

Eddie only lets Jeff boss him around because he’s inside the home. There’s no need to rip his head off. Or, maybe Eddie likes that Jeff is so comfortable in his little shack. They’ve only known each other for a few years. Shorter than Gareth. He still has to tell Gareth that it’s alright to poke around for food, or that there are extra blankets in the cubby down the hall.

“I’m gonna use your bathroom,” Jeff turns the corner. “That one in the microwave is for you. I know you ain’t eat. I’ll warm up another one for me.”

This makes Eddie roll his eyes. But, his stomach disagrees. The fact is Eddie hasn’t eaten much today. If not for watching your house, Eddie might have paid more attention to his own surroundings.

Eddie pops in a movie that he’s seen a dozen and a half times. It’s a comedy. That pairs well with how high they are about to be within the hour.

The faucet switches on in the bathroom, and Eddie has perfected a joint for them to share. He races to the kitchen to pull out the dinner in the microwave. Hissing as the tips of his fingers sear across the tin dish. You’d think he’d know better by how many of these things he’s eaten in his past seventeen years of living, but Eddie would be one to burn his fingers off.

Eddie does slide in another frozen meal after he takes the one that Jeff has warmed for himself.

By the time he makes rounds back to the couch, Jeff has taken a lighter to the joint. A cloud of thick gray smoke passes through the air. The joint is handed to Eddie.

“Any word from Gareth? He’s missing a great night,” Eddie half jokes.

Jeff shakes his head, “I called the house, but his mom says that he’s on a date.”

“A date?” Eddie scrunches his nose in thinking. “He told me he was busy.”

“Yeah, on a date.”

“He lied to me?” He didn’t know whether he should feel hurt, angry or maybe a bit of pride. To lie to Eddie is the greatest sin.

“Who cares? Pass that to me,” Jeff says with an open palm.

For the sass, Eddie takes a second hit. The weed will make him forget this conversation even happened. But, while he can plant his two feet on earth.

“‘s busy too,” he throws your name in the ring, “you don’t think they. . .?”

Jeff tilts his head at Eddie. Indeed, your home is quiet for a Saturday. Even Jeff knows you favor Saturday’s for their potential. You like reading as many books as you can get your hands on. Saturday’s are prime real estate for book reading according to you.

The idea has crossed his mind. How Gareth has been acting towards you? You haven’t exactly shot him down. Since coming home from the camping trip this summer, you’ve been much quieter, whether during band rehearsals or whenever the guys get together. You have a misty glow about you too. It’s possible, but- would you really go as far as to date Gareth?

Something blasts on television. The characters are swarming each other in clouds of dust, and ridiculous plots. Jeff and Eddie throw themselves back in a fit of laughs. The plant they’ve been sucking on begins to coat their skin, and bathe in their blood. They’ve forgotten their conversation, and everything becomes quite silly just then.

-> <-

A bowling ally to you, always meant spending a fair time with your mother. She taught you how to hold the ball in your little fingers, and she helped guide you down the right lane. You could feel how cherry your cheeks would get when you knocked even one pin down. Success! Now, years later, the same nostalgia washes over you. Even though you don’t have your mother to play with anymore, you find a new companion in Gareth. He’s much handsomer than your mother too.

When you came back from the camping trip, you couldn’t stop your mind from racing about him. It’s silly to have such a school girl crush on the one person you thought despised you. He admitted to his jealously over the phone one night, and asked if you wanted to go bowling with him the following weekend.

You’ve now forgotten about the tornado that zipped through your room tonight. The perfect outfit couldn’t be described, nor could it be found. Although, Gareth disagrees. You’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

Gareth holds his breath as you throw your last ball down the lane. If you hit both pins down now, you win the round. Clack! The pins scrape the lane.

The dance you do at the end of the lane warms Gareth’s heart like hot chocolate in the winter. You spin around gleefully.

“Great game,” he says.

Your stomach growls, “pizza break?”

The pizza parlor is just a step off the bowling lanes. Crowds are thick at this time, and Gareth slots his hand into yours to keep from losing you. Hopefully, he misses how pink you’ve gone. He doesn’t.

Gareth orders your favorite slice of pizza, but not without a rebuttal of how plain a cheese slice of pizza can be. You disagree. There’s something soothing about eating just the cheese and the bread. Especially, if they’ve seasoned the crust right.

To be honest, the pizza isn’t even warm. Gareth can read that on your face the moment you take your first bite. Then, he suggests you head somewhere different for dinner that isn’t this cheap pizza crap. You convince him that it’s perfectly fine - not wanting to spend money neither of you have. Just getting into the bowling alley alone is expensive. The dollars ran you each six bucks that Gareth happily forked over. You’re priceless.

This might be the first date, but Gareth already wants the dates to continue. If you’ll have him. You spend the evening getting to know each other a bit better, while avoiding the family question. Gareth is the only child between his mother and his absent father. Unlike you and your father, Gareth regularly visits his in Indianapolis. Gareth’s mother and father split on the difference of opinions about where to live. She wanted to be in a small town, and he didn’t want to leave his corporate position.

“Two Christmases,” Gareth lightens the mood.

You snicker, even though you hardly get one Christmas. Would your mom even be home this year? It may be another Christmas spent with the Munson’s. Last year, Wayne brought you over since your mom was passed out on the couch and had completely forgotten the holiday. You shared laughs over a roast that Wayne worked extra hours for. It was one of the best holidays in years.

“I’m really into journaling,” you tell Gareth when he asks about what you want to do with your life. Honestly, the thought has crossed your mind. Nothing creases your brows more than when you have a pen and a piece of paper between your fingers.

Gareth finishes off a bite of his last slice, wipes his hands on a napkin and then asks, “is that why you’re always nose deep in those diary looking things?”

You flush. It’s true. Wherever you are - school or home - you always carry around a notebook to jot down - well, anything. Although, you didn’t know you had been so obvious about it. Humans are so interesting in their average life. Do we ever really stop to think about what we are doing? The emotions that we have? You’re quick to jot this moment in your head to put on paper later.

“No one has ever asked about my writing before,” you smile at this, “but, it’s all silly. I don’t know if any of it’s important.”

“I’d love to read them someday,” he offers.

“It’s not done yet,” you shy.

Gareth nods understandingly, “when it’s finished.”

Gareth knows that Eddie is fond of getting those journals for you to write in. The exchange is polite and friendly. Some of them are more colorful and more loud than others. They come in all colors. Gareth can see when you’re getting close to being done with them when the pages gain weight with the ink from your pen. He’s always been curious to read between the lines if the written word wasn’t so private.

The end to your writing has yet to fall into your lap. Pieces of the puzzle you’ve begun can’t seem to fall directly into place. It will take years for you to sort through just the corner pieces. The center is what really matters. It’s the glue that holds the story together. The pages open to your inner most deep thoughts. You’ve hardly begun to untangle the web that lives inside your brain.

Life might be much easier for you if you could reach between your ears to prod at the sticky flesh that your brain has to offer. Along the muscle, you might find the words that you’re desperately trying to say. That goes the same for paper, and for real life.

Anxieties creep against your spine about the future. You won’t let them rattle you for long. The boy in front of you distracts these thoughts from surfacing when he dashes his fingers across the back ridges along your hand. Your face softens, though you’re not sure when it got so stiff.

Gareth can read you well. Something he’s picked up on over the years. Your face gets so tight in the middle. Even your nose gets scrunched when you’re overthinking. To distract you, Gareth doesn’t want to scare you by word of mouth. He’s much gentler to you. He cares for you. Already, you’ve made a mark on him that no other blonde, brunette or - well - anyone could. You’ve known each other for so long, yet this past summer Gareth has really opened his eyes.

The way you smell captivates him. He’s entranced by the way that vanilla could become so intricate and intimate along your skin. You’ve certainly sprayed yourself with just enough perfume before you met him here tonight. Not only this, but you’ve freshly washed. The skin on your hands is still soft and plush. Your bracelet jangles against the surface of the table. When it does, you adjust the heart charm facing the ceiling, so to not interfere on your date.

Date. Gareth could have done summersaults when you agreed to tonight. It won’t be something he admits to you, but he did a few laps in his living room. His mom caught him. Surely something that will be brought up in the future.

The date continues. Eventually, the slices of pizza disappear leaving only sad crumpled plates. Gareth folds his in half, before throwing his and yours away. Another round of bowling follows.

“I want a rematch!” Gareth declares in a teasing and a joking sort of tone.

You play along, and challenge, “I can’t wait to kick your ass twice!”

“Bring it on!”

This round is different. Gareth has his eye locked on first prize. The technique he uses to swing the ball back is focused and precise. You want to ask if he’s ever bowled on a team. But, soon you’re up. Maybe you’re out of your element. Perhaps you quicken your shot, just so you can watch the way Gareth moves during his turn. The muscles in his arm strain and flex in his swing. When did he get those?

You have to pull away, and start thinking with your head.

The score is set. Either knock these pins down and win, or- Clang! Crash! Bang! You droop your head in defeat. Gareth has taken the win!

“Woohoo!” Gareth victory laps in front of the lane. The dance is a bit corny and embarrassing, but he likes to see the look on your face. Twisting your false frown into a congratulatory smile, you can’t help but join him.

Gareth slows down when you get close to gun. The faint Italian seasoning still bites your taste buds from the pizza you had earlier. Hot breath hits his lips. He initiates a kiss.

Your hands find the zipper of his open sweater on either side. Pulling him closer, he stumbles before finding perchase at your hips. You couldn’t stay there for long too engrossed in each other. A round of hollers break the moment. They’re some of the jerky popular kids from school.

Their hollers are sarcastic and mean.

Gareth doesn’t want to let them spoil the night, so he holds onto your hand before squeezing his way through the crowd. There is also an arcade buried in the bowling alley. Somewhere just the left of the mediocre cafeteria.

The arcade is much less popular - surprising. As soon as you step to the first machine, you understand why.

“It needs quarters,” you tap the buttons.

Gareth ransacks his wallet, “I’ll be right back.”

Gareth zips off to the half-alert teen behind the register where they got the pizza from. You wait patiently observing. The way Gareth tips his head to him, and accepts the change. He even passes a genuine ‘thank you’ that sits just right inside your head as a lasting memory of why you like him.

The arcade games are quite fun. You’re not good at any of them. Gareth says with practice you could be a real pro.

“Is that your way of telling me there is a second date,” you guide yourself deeper and deeper through the maze. This is your second attempt at Dragon’s Lair. One of Gareth’s favorites - go figure.

Gareth points to the screen, “watch out!”

The knight you play as becomes quickly squashed and buried by a thick layer of stone. He’s not going to make it out of that one with a few stitches.

Gareth shares a hearty laugh with you that warms you up. He surprises you by pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then following this by whispering your ear.

“A second date would be nice.”

You blush, “we haven’t finished the first one.”

Gareth hums. “I know. And, I miss you already.”

When he reaches back into his pocket, he comes to find that you’re all out of quarters. The night has been more than fun than any night before. Your cheeks burn from the smile that couldn’t be swiped off your face.

As you leave the building, hand in hand, Gareth tilts the watch band on his wrist. The time reads exactly nine in the evening. You’re supposed to be home soon.

“I had fun tonight,” he kicks the ground of it’s loose gravel.

You nod in agreement, “I did too. Thank you for this. And, I’ll call you.”

Tonight, you had brought your mom’s station wagon. You want to offer Gareth a ride, but he insists his mom will pick him up shortly. Saying this has Gareth going pink in the face. As soon as he can, he will learn to drive. He likes the image of him behind the wheel, while you sit comfortably in the passenger seat.

Before his mom can pull up to the bowling alley to embarrass him through and through, Gareth presses one more kiss to your lips. Your hands reach for the back of his head, just slightly. The pair break off in time for a familiar face to show up this evening.

Out of anyone this evening, neither of you wanted to be drilled and questioned by your shared friend Eddie Munson. The man who could squash Gareth under his thumb like a bug. You didn’t want to hide your blossoming relationship with Gareth from him. You just wanted time to yourself. There isn’t anything to talk about yet. Although, you could give Robin a call tonight and chat her ear off about how much of a gentleman Gareth has been. She is of the belief that this might become a bad idea because to her neither of you have anything in common. Nonetheless, she’s supportive of your experiments.

Anyway, the man you find yourself running into is probably the second worse case scenario because he could easily let it slip that he’s seen you at the bowling alley. Eddie’s uncle Wayne stops his conversation with his coworker John. The men were sharing work stories when he spots you making eyes at the boy next to you.

Ah, he remembers date nights well. Wayne could prattle on about the times he took out fare Rosie Davis in his younger days. They went to hot spots like the bowling alley too, or the diner. He couldn’t call her the one that got away though. That spot remains for dear Cloudy. Ah, Cloudy. Of course, he will spare the details. The woman was like a dream to him - she still reaches parts of his memory that he loves to pry out every once in a while.

Wayne pulls back a bit when he recognizes Eddie’s friend Gareth standing beside you. The two are usually together on Saturdays, which makes more sense as to why his young nephew is taking over his living room in the dark. Had he known you were out . . . together? Bah! None of his buisness. You kids are hard to keep track of these days.

“Well,” Wayne acknowledges, “good evening, you two.”

You fumble nervously, “hi, Wayne.”

Gareth flicks his wrist to wave hello. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Oh, John,” Wayne politely introduces the man. “These are a couple of Eddie’s friends.”

“Nice to meet you!” The man beside him is Wayne’s age. He has a hat perched askew atop of his head to hide the balding patch missing of course curly hair that’s throwing off his age. It’s not doing its job, but that’s not for you to point out.

Wayne flicks his gaze to the bowling alley, “it’s crowded in there tonight?”

“It is,” the parking lot is nearly full, and people are starting to park on the street.

This causes the man to lift his eyebrow, and dips his head to your height. A flimsy smile rests on his face.

“It’s probably so crowded that I’ve forgotten the faces I’ve seen tonight, hm?”

Wayne already has the clue by the stiffness of your back that Eddie probably has no idea that you’re here tonight. Especially, that you’re together. He’s getting old, but he’s not any stupider now than he was yesterday. Besides, there may be a day that you will return the favor to him. Not that he expects you too.

Your faces twist into something of gratitude.

“Have a good evening, you two,” Wayne turns to John, and with a pat on his back they walk into the bowling alley.

Gareth sighs, “that was close.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Well, bye Gareth.”

“Bye,” he waves.

Just as you step off the curb to make your way through the parking lot, a blue sedan pulls in beside you carefully. The window rolls down, and Gareth’s mom shouts to you.

“You look so pretty tonight!”

You turn on your heel, “thank you, Miss Jones.”

Gareth’s worst nightmare has come true. His mom’s best trait has become his worst enemy. She does well at her job where her spunk and toothy grin do her well amongst her coworkers. Even people she sees on the street, she’ll make new friends in mere moments. While he adores her theatrics, he does wish she could know when to pipe down.

“Did you kids have fun tonight?” She whips her head back and forth between her son slotting into the front seat of her car, and you dancing on your heels and toes in the parking lot. “Oh! You should come by tomorrow. We’re making ziti! Ever heard of it? I was watching the television. I love my cooking television shows. I learn so much. Anyway, this lady says something about her Italian dog - or maybe it was her grandma - no, it had to be her grandma. Dogs can’t cook,” she only pauses to belt out a loud and nasally sort of laugh. “Can you imagine? The hysteria!”

If anything, Gareth was trying to spare you the ongoing rambles that his mother could go through. The woman didn’t have an off button. When he told her that he could use a ride to the bowling alley, she was extremely ecstatic to be having a mother and son night out. He disclosed that he would be meeting a friend there, and she responded with a suggestive ‘oh!’ The questions began. She asks if you’re a girl, then asks if he knows what condoms are. Hell, by the end of the conversation you and he were already married and making her grandchildren.

The woman is colorful to say the least.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetie!” Gareth didn’t listen in very closely, but by the sounds of it, you’re coming over tomorrow.

Gareth couldn’t be more thrilled that his mom hasn’t scared you off.

You wave one more time, before taking off towards your car that’s parked just a few spots away from the front of the bowling alley.

“I’ll have to find those photo albums,” she mutters to herself.

“Mom,” Gareth whines, “no!”

“What? I can’t show your girlfriend how cute you were as a baby? This is going to be so much fun!” She taps the steering wheel in front of her, then coos. “My baby has a girlfriend!”

“We’ve been on one date!”

“She’s going to look gorgeous in white one day, don’t you think? Is she more of an ivory or a cream? I’m just so excited!”

-> <-

[to be continued]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic

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cheynovak · 3 days ago

Text

Perfect Aim - pt 1/2

Russell x Y/N f/character and co worker

Summary: Russell and Y/N are send out on a mission, she can't stand him until she gets hurt and he takes care of her.

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! - Spice/smut, blood, guns, shooting, ...

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Comments/Sharing are appreciated.

The hum of the engine filled the quiet space between us, an almost welcome respite from his incessant chatter. The man couldn’t shut up if his life depended on it.

Russel Shaw. Perfect record Shaw. Smooth-talking Shaw. And if that wasn’t annoying enough, it was clear he charmed his way through life, likely leaving broken hearts and dirty laundry behind for someone else to pick up. Probably his mother.

I folded my arms tightly across my chest, staring out of the window of his chevy to ignore his running commentary. Every word he said was like nails on a chalkboard, and the heat radiating from his cocky smirk wasn’t helping. His reflection caught my side-eye in the window, and he laughed.

“Damn, you remind me of my little brother, Colter.” His tone was teasing, but the casual dig at my mood set my teeth on edge.

I turned to glare at him, narrowing my eyes. He loved that. Of course, he did.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart, just like that. I like my women feisty.” His grin widened like he was daring me to respond.

“Like you could even handle me,” I muttered, more for myself than him.

“I bet I can,” he replied smoothly, looking me up and down as if he had the right. “What do you say, shall I remove you from those uncomfortable pants once this mission is complete?”

“Perv,” I shot back under my breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of anything more. The rest of the ride was silent, just how I liked it.

***

The job was straightforward on paper: grab the intel, avoid bloodshed, and get out clean, no killing! And it had gone that way—at least until the alarm screamed its betrayal into the silent halls.

“Run!” he yelled over the chaos.

Adrenaline and pure spite for the man fueled me as we sprinted through the labyrinth of corridors, but it wasn’t enough when I felt the sharp sting in my leg and hit the ground.

My hand reached just above my knee, seeing how the blood started to collor my pants darker. "Fuck!" I yell at the pain. I looked up see Russel coming back.

"Stay down!" he yelled aiming his gun.

The sound of his gun firing shocked me, for a second forgetting about the pain.

"Come on, I got you." he said and before I knew it, he was hauling me up and dragging me to safety. His arm draped around my side while the other held my arm around his broad shoulders.

"Can you walk?" he asked while I looked back over our shoulders to the men lying dead in the hallway. "uhu" I answered agreeing.

***

The ride to the motel was tense, silence heavy except for my ragged breaths. He looked back to where I was sitting in the back. "Keep pressure on that leg!" he ordered.

In other circumstances I'd bit back, knowing how I'm no child and cab take care of myself. But this time I'd be wise and shut my mouth.

***

Russel drops me onto his motel bed before retrieving something out of his car. Something that looks like an home made ER kit.

His hands were steady, no-nonsense, as he stripped off my boots and tore my pants to clean the wound.

“This might hurt a little, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer, concerned even. " Are you sure you won't go to a doctor?"

“Been through worse,” I bit back, hiding the way my stomach turned at the pain of him searching for the bullet. My hand clenching the sheets trying to hold my leg still.

***

Once my leg was closed up, stitched and clean he moved me to my bed, visibly relieved.

He handed me a glass of bourbon, sinking into the chair across from the bed. “Reckon you deserve it,” he said quietly.

I drank without answering, the weight of the day settling heavily. Unable to hold the tensed silence. A joke slipped out before I could stop it. “Well, at least you got me out of my pants tonight.”

I felt his eyes scan my bare legs, maybe even a little too long. I've never been self cautious, but his glare made me want to cover up my silk black panties.

But them I heard his laughter, rich and full, echoed around the small room as he leaned back. “Touché,” he replied, shaking his head as though I were an enigma he couldn’t quite solve.

It was too quiet then, the kind of quiet where you could hear truths trying to fight their way to the surface. “Hey, Russel,” I broke the silence, my voice softer. “Why did you shoot to kill?”

“Who said I did?” His answer was quick, his tone flippant.

“Come on. Your aim’s too good to shoot two men dead on accident. And that's a compliment, it's taste horrible on my tongue so take it."

His hand tightened around his glass, his knuckles whitening. “I know it was supposed to be a no-kill mission." he admitted after a pause, looking anywhere but at me.

"But seeing you hurt… it triggered something. I—” His voice wavered, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of smugness. “I admire you, Y/N. Always have.”

He smirks looking at his glass again. "I eh, I asked for a very long time to team us up. Finally they agreed and look at you."

The weight of his words hit like a blow. Admire sounded too much like *more than admire,* but I ignored it, brushing off the warmth pooling low in my stomach.

"It's not your fault." I whisper. "The killing is." he looked me in the eye. I saw disappointment, hurt, flicker briefly across his face.

He moved to stand and poured another glass.

“Hey, Russ, can you help me? I nodded towards the bathroom. He moved on his feet before I even finished the sentence.

As he bent to help me up, I tugged him closer by the back of his neck, crushing my lips to his before I could think better of it. He froze for the briefest moment before relaxing into the kiss, returning it with unguarded intensity.

"Thank you." I murmured against his lips.

When I finally pulled him down onto the bed with me, he braced his hands on either side of my body, staring down like he wasn’t sure this was real. “Don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice rough, his eyes darker.

“You won’t,” I answered, my voice steady despite the heat flooding my veins. "Shaw,” I teased, voice low, “I reckon you deserve this.”

Russel smiled into the kiss, a quiet chuckle rumbling from his chest as his body pressed carefully against mine. His movements were deliberate, slow but confident, as if savoring every moment.

Hiis calloused hand trailed down my side, his touch igniting something inside me that I hadn’t anticipated. When his lips began to explore the curve of my neck, I couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped my lips.

His kisses became more insistent, wandering lower, as his hands skillfully removed the barriers between us—clothing discarded with a confidence that betrayed his experience.

But none of it felt rushed. It felt... intentional. My fingers tangled in his hair, soft and surprisingly silky, scratching lightly along his shoulders. The groan he released sent a shiver through me.

I couldn’t hide my reaction, my heart stuttering in a way I wasn’t used to, not with him. His fingers toyed with the waistband of my remaining clothing, waiting. I bit my lower lip, a silent permission that his sharp eyes immediately caught.

Without a word, he tugged them off, his gaze flicking up to meet mine, ensuring I was still with him.

When I nodded, his lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, the kind that wasn’t steeped in bravado. Then he surprised me—he kissed down my stomach, his movements unhurried and intentional.

This wasn’t what I expected from Russel Shaw.

I always pictured him as arrogant, quick to take, sing a woman for a quick blow leaving in the morning kind of guy, but everything about him now was... giving. Thoughtful.

He moved with purpose, pressing kisses to my skin like he wanted to map every inch of me. And when his head dipped lower and I felt the first deliberate stroke of his tongue, my back arched off the bed.

My mind blurred, my fingers clenching in his hair as sensation overwhelmed me. It wasn’t just what he did—it was how he did it. He took his time, responding to every sound and movement I made, adjusting with a precision I hadn’t thought possible from someone like him.

The low hum of appreciation he released vibrated through me, as though he was savoring me as much as I was unraveling under his touch.

“Russ,” I gasped, unsure if it was a plea or an acknowledgment of the man completely undoing me.

Painkillers had worked well. The throbbing ache in my leg? A distant memory. All that remained was him, his mouth, his touch—completely consuming every shred of thought.

The moment felt endless and too fleeting all at once, his actions so perfectly attuned it left me breathless, every nerve alight. It was intimate in a way I hadn’t thought possible with Russel, leaving me to wonder if I ever truly knew the man at all.

The intensity of Russel's focus was unlike anything I’d ever felt. His fingers teased along my sensitive flesh, their movements deliberate and methodical, sending shockwaves through my body.

The first finger entered, curling and pumping with precision that made my breath hitch, my back arching off the bed. When a second finger joined, then a third, it was too much. The pressure built until I was screaming his name, tugging hard on his hair as my world went white.

His free hand moved to cup my breast, fingers pinching and rolling, heightening every sensation, while his lips and tongue continued their meticulous work. I felt completely undone, laid bare in a way that was both terrifying and electrifying. His hand didn’t falter, carrying me through wave after wave until I was left trembling beneath him.

"You like that, huh? Yeah, I can tell. I can *feel* you," he emphasized the word, grinding slow and deep. “Your body’s so eager for me, so needy… Are going to come, sweetheart?”

I finally reached it and when I came down from the high, Russel climbed up my body, his expression soft but smoldering.

He positioned himself carefully between my legs, but the weight of him had my injured leg shifting. Pain shot through me, and I hissed, sucking in a breath.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone almost shy as if he wasn’t the same man who’d just pulled me apart moments ago.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head, “Don’t stop.” The need in my voice surprised me, but it was the truth.

Russel hesitated, his hand grazing my cheek, and I couldn’t help but laugh—bitterly amused at how this man could be such a gentleman when I was lying there, legs wide open for him.

"Say it,” he demanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated against my throat. "Tell me what you need from me. Tell me how bad you want me, Y/N."

“Just fuck me, Russel,” I snapped, desperate now.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, smirking, his voice dropping an octave as he positioned himself.

The first thrust was gentle, almost too careful, as though I might break beneath him. But he still hit that spot with unerring precision, proving once again that Russel knew exactly how to aim.

Each movement after was soft but firm, his rhythm thoughtful, avoiding any aggravation to my injury but still managing to drive me insane. My hips bucked against him, urging him on, desperate for more.

“God,” I gasped as he tangled himself deeper into me, his hands everywhere—on my hips, gripping my shoulders, tracing down my sides. The sheer overwhelming intimacy made me squirm under him, needing him faster, harder.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he muttered against my ear, his voice rough and breathless. "That's it," he groaned as my hips rolled up to meet him.

"Taking me so perfectly. Fuck, Y/N, you were made for this—made for me." He bit down gently on the lobe of my ear, a quiet growl slipping past his lips.

“Russ,” I moaned, the sound half a plea, half surrender. His movements turned sharper, his breathing ragged, his restraint faltering as he gave me what I needed.

As Russel moved against me, each slow, precise thrust sending shockwaves through my body, his lips found my ear. His voice, rough with restraint, brushed against my skin as he murmured.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," he rasped, his breath warm and ragged. "You don't even know what you’re doing to me, do you? Been thinking about this… about you for years."

The depth in his tone sent a shiver straight through me, and my fingers dug into his back, urging him closer.

I let out a whimper in response, my head tilting back, exposing my throat to him. His lips trailed down, pressing against my pulse as his hips snapped just a little harder, dragging a gasp from me.

"Listen to you," he murmured against my skin. "Every noise you make is mine, sweetheart. You sound so fucking beautiful."

His hand slid to the back of my knee, carefully lifting my injured leg to wrap around his waist. He hissed at the change in angle, but his thrusts had me crying out, louder now.

He looked up at me, I could feel him retreat, on instinct I grab his neck and shoulders. Kissing his neck.

“I need you,” I admitted, the words falling unbidden as my back arched and I clutched at him. “I need all of you. I can… I can take a little pain, keep going .”

“That’s my girl,” he said, his voice tinged with smug satisfaction. His fingers gripped my hip tightly as he began thrusting harder, each movement driving deeper and making my body shudder.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he muttered, his tone raw with honesty as if the words had slipped out unguarded. “So tight, so wet. Just for me, huh? You know how crazy that makes me?” His voice cracked slightly, and I could feel his control starting to slip.

He dropped his head to my shoulder, kissing and biting down as his breath hitched. “You’re driving me insane, sweetheart. Can’t hold back much longer… You gonna come for me again? Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.?”

The dirty, guttural edge in his voice sent me spiraling. My nails dragged down his back as my body tensed, his name falling from my lips like a prayer. The words didn’t stop, his encouragement turning filthy as he coaxed me through the final push.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, feeling me clamp down around him. “Let go. Let me hear you scream my name, yeah? You feel so fucking good, Y/N. Come on baby girl, milk me.”

I fell apart beneath him, and his own release followed quickly, the sounds of his pleasure mingling with mine. Even as we tangled together, spent and breathless, his lips pressed soft words against my temple.

My body tightened around him, every nerve electrified, and as he ground into me one last time, stars burst behind my eyes. His groan, low and guttural, reached me as I felt him lose control, his body trembling as we came together.

For a moment, the room was silent except for our heavy breathing. Russel stayed above me, his arms trembling slightly from holding himself up. Finally, he collapsed onto the bed beside me, pulling me into his chest, careful of my leg.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured against my hair, his voice warm and surprisingly soft.

“Yeah,” I replied, still catching my breath. “I guess… you weren’t just bragging when you said you could handle me.”

He chuckled, low and satisfied, brushing his fingers down my arm.

***

The buzzing of Russels phone on the night stand woke me.

The morning felt colder than it should have and still the memories of last night warmth my chest. I could still feel the ghost of Russel’s touch, the intimacy of last night lingering on my skin, but it clashed with an icy feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.

I hopped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. My leg ached as I cleaned the wound, trying to focus on something tangible—anything to drown out the vulnerable warmth still blooming in my chest.

When Russel walked in behind me, his presence was an instant shift in the air. I could feel him watching me as I dabbed at the stitches.

"I could have done that," he said, his voice still husky from sleep.

"I know, but you were sleeping," I snapped back, harsher than I intended. There was an edge of defense to it, and I immediately bit my tongue.

Russel frowned but said nothing, instead leaning forward to press a kiss to my temple. I froze.

He pulled back with a quiet sigh. "I guess we need to head back to HQ soon," he muttered before disappearing into the shower, leaving me standing there with my mind spinning.

"Yeah, I guess."

I clutched the counter, my reflection staring back at me with wide, confused eyes. The kiss—it wasn’t like him. Russel Shaw wasn’t gentle, wasn’t... soft. Was he? The warmth stirred in my chest again, and my heart fluttered against my better judgment.

Stop it. He’s Russel Shaw. He doesn’t do this. But he was soft last night. Only because you where hurt. Or wasn't that it?

Did he... made love to me?

I couldn’t help the thought that maybe,just maybe, I wasn’t just another notch on his bedpost. Maybe last night had meant something to him too.

He said he admired me... I tried to push the idea aside, determined to keep my head clear. But I felt like a love sick puppy.

Then I heard it again. The soft chime.

My gaze darted to where Russel’s phone rested on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with another message. The room was quiet except for the sound of the shower running, and I shouldn’t have looked. I knew better, but curiosity was a demanding thing.

I limped over, trying not to jostle my leg too much, and hesitated before tapping the screen. A preview of notifications slid into view.

**5 missed calls. 3 texts.**

My chest tighten.

Reenie:

*"I tried to call you."*

*"Don’t ignore me, Russ"*

*"Russel, come home."*

That last text hit me like a fist to the stomach.

Home.

The word clawed at my throat, choking me. Home meant someone waiting for him. Someone he had obligations to. A wife? A girlfriend?

I stumbled back, bile rising in my throat. The warmth from last night shattered into cold, piercing clarity. I felt like a fool—a stupid, naive fool. The intimacy, the softness, the connection I thought we had... all of it felt like a cruel joke.

He had someone else. Someone he was going back to while I was daydreaming about something more, while now left with nothing but guilt and regret.

My chest tightened painfully as humiliation crashed over me. I had fallen for his charm, let myself be vulnerable. And now, I was a mistake he’d leave behind while going back to his perfect life.

Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder, my injured leg protesting with every movement. I needed to get out of here. Now. Before he could come out of that bathroom, flashing that perfect, crooked smile, and tell me another lie.

I yanked open the door and hobbled into the hallway, every step feeling heavier than the last. I barely noticed the stares as I boarded the first bus I could find, not even bothering to look at where it was heading.

All I knew was I had to escape—from him, from my feelings, from this mess. The tears spilled over as I slumped into a seat, clutching my bag like it was the only thing anchoring me to reality.

I felt stupid. Stupid for thinking I could be more to someone like Russel Shaw.

And worse, stupid for still hoping, deep down, that I was wrong.

taglist

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla

@thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss

@muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy

@livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11

#jensen ackles #x reader #fanfic #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #smut #russell shaw fanfiction #russell shaw #tracker

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tinybeetiny · 13 hours ago

Text

Very Bold: K.Y

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

I think this might be the longest one… idk I just couldn’t stop for him. I also wanted to show him a way you wouldn't think but honestly something he could be hiding

->Starring: Rockstar!YeosangXafab!Reader

->Genre: Smut, some angst

->Cw: Explicit language, public... flashing?, spanking, unprotected sex, dom Yeosang eeeee, praise, degradation

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Rock Never Dies Masterlist

“Uh shit babe I’m gonna be late” Yeosang’s breaths came out as pants as you continued to rub yourself on him “Almost there” you squeaked out feeling the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach. Yeosang had to be on stage in 5 minutes but you needed him so bad and like the sweet doting boyfriend he is he took you to his dressing room to let you hump him like a dog in heat. With each drag of your hips you’re thrown closer and closer to the edge until a loud banging interrupts you “Come on Yeosang. We need to be one stage NOW” Hongjoong’s voice held some irritation. Yeosang sighs as he moves you off of him, gently sliding you onto the couch below you “Sorry love. We gotta finish this later” he sighs, eyes apologetic “But I was so close” you whine. He gives you a quick kiss before rushing out of the room.

You stand on the side of the stage watching the boys perform, your panties uncomfortably sticky. His gaze falls over to you and you look around seeing everyone preoccupied. Your eyes return to his and he sees a mischievous glint in them. He raises an eyebrow trying to figure out what you're planning. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your lacy thong pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor. It takes all of his self-control not to say fuck it and just leave with you. He watches you reach down, picking up the skimpy fabric and accidentally tossing it behind you. You give him an 'oops' face and promptly turn around, bending over giving him a clear view pussy. His concetration waivers and Yunho looks over at him.

The rest of the concert seems to drag on for Yeosang. When the show finally ended he was the first one off the stage. He beelined his way to you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to his dressing room. The praise from the staff is just an echo as he breezes by them. He practically throws you into the room (politely because he's bby girl) and he slams the door shut "You think that little shit was cute huh?" His breath fans against your face. Oh he's angry angry and it's embarrassing to say but it turns you on. The little vein in his forehead protruding and the way he's pinning you against the door has your arousal dripping down your thigh "I have no idea what you're talking about." you say innocently giving him wide eyes "So you want to be like that?" He takes a step back "Go bend over the arm of the sofa" His tone scarily serious. Yeosang may be in a rock band but he's as soft as a puppy so seeing him this just made you feel things.

You skip your way over to the sofa, bending over looking back at him, and wiggling your hips antagonizing him "Look at you” he tsks, his hand coming down to rub your exposed ass “Do you like being a little attention whore hm?” He sneers bending over you, his voice close to your ear. Your backside is pressed flush to his front and you can feel his hard on through his tight pants rub against your exposed cunt. You shake your head “No? No what? You don’t like it?” You shake your head again “M’not an attention whore” you pout “Oh really? So you didn’t just bend over showing your whole bare ass pussy for everyone to see?” You whine at his words “Why do you have to say it like that” You grumble "Maybe because that's exactly what happened and look. It seems like you enjoyed every minute of it." He takes a small step back, fingers gliding through your wet folds gathering your slick "You're so wet. What...? Did the thought of someone seeing you exposed turn you on that much?" you hear him unzip his pants, and the metal from his belt hits the floor as he slides them down his legs "No" you say quietly, the humiliation very present "Oh really? The mess you're making on my fingers says otherwise" When he pulls his fingers away strings of arousal stretch making his cock jump.

He grabs the base of his cock and rubs his tip through your folds "Need to fill you up" He mumbles pushing his tip into your sopping hole. You let out a gasp when he pushes further into you. His hand comes to spread your ass cheeks, loving the way he's stretching you out "So tight for me". He lets out a sigh of relief when he finally bottoms out. He stays stagnit knowing if he moved right now he would cum instantly. Your walls are tight around him almost as if they were molding to him, just for him. He watches as your wrtith around trying to coax some sort of stimulation out of him but it doesn't worlk. Instead, he simple admires your figure, enamored by every curve. His fingers caress your skin as they slide up your back and he pushes ever so slightly causing your arch just how he likes. When he finally moves his hips they're slow, feeling every drag as your tigh walls suck him in further and further.

He gives you a couple more slow thruts before stilling again. You mouth opens to protest but before you can utter a word his hand comes down with a harsh smack, the sound vibrating off the walls. Your pitiful whine fills his ears and he marvels at the pretty red handprint on your skin. His hand comes down on the other cheek giving it a matching mark. Little cries escape you and he wants more. He lands another smack and yet another whine leaves your lips. He continues his assault until your skin is hot and a beautiful shade of red. His hand grip your hips as he pounds into you, fucking you into the couch.

"That's it baby take it like the whore you are" his head falls back as he feels you constricting around him "Fuck Sangie that feels so good" "Yeah? You wanna cum?" "Yes yes please I wanna cum" "Then say it, tell me you're a fucking whore." You shake your head no against the cushion "Oh... okay then" He pulls out completely leaving you feeling empty. Your head spins around to look at him with tears in your eyes, your hips pushing back trying to find him again. "Ah ah. Say it." "Imawhore" You whisper out in a rush "I can't hear you" "I'm a whore, I'm a dirty whore for you Sangie I- fuuckk" You cry out when he slams back into you. His hips move at an unforgiving pace "Fuck baby cum, cum for me" It didn't take long for you to start spasming around him “That’s it. Such a good girl” he praises. He pushes you further into the leather material. Your body lays limply feeling worn out but as he continues to pound into you the feeling of overstimulation begins to set in

"Ah shit baby. M'gonna cum, gotta pull out" His voice comes out strained as he feels the tension building, begging to be released “No please cum in me Sangie please” he lets a little humorless laugh “You really think you deserve it?” You give him a little nod “I don’t think so. What exactly have you done to deserve it huh?” He smirks when you don’t say anything. He pulls out and pumps his cock "No no no I'm sorry. Please please please" any other time he would give you what you wanted especially when you beg so nicely but not this time. He's pretty sure Hongjoong saw, maybe even San and the thought of them potentially seeing you so exposed had him shooting hot ropes of cum all over your ass. He lets out a string of breathy moans, hips stuttering as he milks himself dry over you. He grabs a few tissues and carefully cleans you up. Your limbs whine as he gently pulled you up. Your eyes lazily look up at him "So... Did you like the view?"

Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie

@lemonkait00 @ginevrsstuff @atztrsr @honsans-atiny-24 @zaynsfl4m3s

@life-is-a-game-of-thrones @atzlordz

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez yeosang #ateez kang yeosang #yeosang smut #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang #yeosang ateez #ateez smut

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