#yes i used the default names
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ghostly-cabbage · 8 months ago
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We need to talk about the worst thing about making AUs....
The fact that then when you inevitably think about crossovers you don't want the crossover with the canon you want it with your specific AU. Your brain worms, your circus, but THEN WHAT?
Oh, yeah, to understand this crossover you need to go read this entirely different fic/series? Girl help 😭 you can't do that
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aro-aizawa · 4 days ago
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pros: very sucinctly describes his quirk; explosive + palm; snappy and quick; not reliant on character development
cons: heavy negative connotations relating to horrific injuries and deaths sustained from use of it in war, many on civilians and is a brutal killer; too creative and simple for bakugou to have come up with on his own
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intheticklecloset · 9 months ago
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Hiya! I was wondering if i could have a shoto and Natsuo tickle fic, where maybe shoto comes home for dinner and fuyumi has to leave to go to the store leaving then two alone for a bit to bond.
Its totally ok if you don't want to!
Thanks!
Since I'm not taking full fic requests but I thought this was a cute idea, I decided to turn it into a Coffee Shot instead. Hope you enjoy!
Also was gonna sit on this one for a minute but the mood hit me so here it is - happy Sunday evening!
~~~
“Time for winter uniforms already, huh?” Natsuo remarked as he plopped on the couch next to his younger brother, bowl of popcorn in hand. They were about to watch a movie now that Fuyumi had gone out for a couple of hours; it was rare for the two of them to have any time alone, and they didn’t really know how to interact beyond pleasantries and movies or gaming.
They were working on it. The whole family was.
Todoroki nodded and reached for a handful from the bowl. “Yeah. Not much different from my summer uniform, really.”
“You wear long sleeves even in the summer, right? Even though half your quirk tends to burn it to ashes?”
Todoroki shrugged a little sheepishly, now reaching for the remote that lay between them. “I guess so.”
“What is it? You just don’t want the class to see how toned you’ve gotten?” Natsuo teased, aiming a quick jab for his brother’s ribs that made him squeak and dart his arm back to his side reflexively.
“I don’t care about that,” Todoroki managed through a timid smile. “But Bakugou kind of handles that showing off thing for me, so
”
“So you don’t want to be too extra?” Natsuso poked him again.
“That – that’s exahahactly how he’d prhrahahase it – Nat, plehehease!” Todoroki gradually broke down into a fit of giggles, the popcorn in his hand spilling to his lap and the floor as he squirmed with every poke and pinch to his ribs.
Natsuo chuckled and put the bowl aside entirely, reaching both hands for the younger boy’s torso. “How are things going with him, by the way? Any progress? Have you confessed yet? Come on, I wanna know all about my little brother’s love life!”
“Nahahahahahat, plehehehehehehease!”
“Please what?”
Instead of falling into the trap of asking for more tickles or begging him to stop entirely, Todoroki darted his hands for Natsuo’s knees and squeezed.
“Ah! No fahahahahahair!” his brother squealed, instantly going into defensive mode, giggling and pushing Todoroki’s hands away. “Your knehehehehehees aren’t tihihihicklish – you dohohohohon’t know what it’s lihihihihihike!”
Todoroki scoffed, but he was grinning. “Like I’m not more than ticklish enough everywhere else to make up for it? Come on, Nat – you started it. Show me what you’ve got!”
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k0ushii · 2 years ago
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finally posting my om mc design
his name is yuki (he/him)
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musical-chick-13 · 14 hours ago
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Genuinely I cannot take the phrase "de-centering men" seriously anymore.
#like. if you take the words individually at their objective meaning then yes. we SHOULD not just Automatically Make Everything About Men#we SHOULD get rid of the expectation of men as the '''default'''#but it seems like everyone I come across who uses this phrase exclusively uses it to be mean to women who are attracted to/date men#like. okay you take a phrase that is MEANT to talk about not only thinking in terms of men and use it to. shit on women.#cool. very feminist of you.#some real Supporting Women Solidarity there#I swear so many of these people do not. actually like women.#they either want to look Radicalℱ or they just hate men.#and I don't mean that second one in the sense of 'buT tHe mEaN fEmiNiStS!!11 :(((' I mean that in the sense of 'what is the point#of being a feminist if you don't ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT and have sympathy for and actively prioritize rights and self-determination#and safety for women?' like what are you doing. why are you here. what are you hoping to accomplish for the people#who are ACTUALLY AFFECTED BY SOCIETAL AND STRUCTURAL MISOGYNY!!!!#the point I'm trying to make is that hating something doesn't automatically equate to support of something else. and my priority here#IS SUPPORTING THE 'SOMETHING ELSE' IN QUESTION. NAMELY WOMEN'S RIGHTS.#AND YES BECAUSE WE LIVE IN A HELL WORLD WHERE I HAVE TO CLARIFY EVERY TIME LEST THE T/RFS THINK I'M ONE OF THEM:#WHEN I SAY WOMEN I MEAN ALL WOMEN. WHICH OBVIOUSLY INCLUDES TRANS WOMEN. BECAUSE THEY ARE WOMEN.#NOT 'WOMEN LITE' OR 'WOMEN ADJACENT' OR 'WOMEN CONDITIONAL'#WOMEN. PERIOD.
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whoslaurapalmer · 22 days ago
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my brother (still the incomparable joel vandelay) is a cartoonist and previously kept up webcomics for some time but as far as I knew the past few years he hasn't really been posting anything, but the reason he brought his computer over last night was so that he could work on a comic and I'm so excited!!! I have, barely seen any of it, bc like me my brother is very, secretive over Unfinished Art (and even Finished Art), but I have seen A Few Lines Be Created which is so thrilling bc he'd rarely let me watch him draw before and I love watching people draw I love seeing a thing take shape I love seeing people I love create things
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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years ago
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getting gnc with it out & about at math meetup (or wherever)
#of course you have a zillion idea for faves' Looks. & also simultaneously none; if you're me#here's one: just the combo Different But Overlapping W/More Usual approach#easy to imagine winston Stays comfy to a sufficient degree &/or oft sticks to a Default kind of outfit approach. but anything's possible#like shaking things up gently for taylor too. always appropriate. ideal person from work to run into; as is often true#they can't make you link up that little taylor sketch w/any Sequence here. it can be its own independent taylor reaction lol#w/their slightly raised shoulders / all the more elevated [expressions i particularly like] it creates momentum like#well now i'd go and elevate winston's [expressions i particularly like] even more lol. the Especially Enjoyed trademarks/classics....#and of course we do not have winston running into taylor without Also being 💖😳 about it. what's Ever going on around here#tayston#winston billions#corned beef#winston's little a gnc with it even just in his tees & cargo pants. no normativity out here. genderdivergent & neurononconforming#i Did move to add sparkly gold eyeliner?shadow? take your pick b/c [Autistacity Shoutout]#taylor's outfit coloration based on [picked a medium grey like a tanktop akd had] & then was going to have spun off from a deep purple or#more like the burgundy taylor wears but a much lighter color would've just been more helpful w/all the Other lighter colors; like the lines#namely the lines showing up against it....so; stunningly; a bit more light blue for us all lol#another moment of pencil lineart but this time drawn today vs months ago. some digital editing; all digital coloring#as inaccessibly discussed prior....epic highs & triumphs of spontaneous sorts of [existing outside work's hostile environment] meetups#yes this is hoodie vs hoodie moments (they would never fight) (they may kiss???) (go back several tags & peruse things)
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kongkhoi · 1 year ago
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i read y/n as a really really fast "whyin" like ryan but ur a kid who cant pronounce r's
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spicedddrum · 2 years ago
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me in a rocking chair explaining against anyone listenings will about how desmond got his name from my long standing love affair with the older AC games
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theabstruseone · 1 year ago
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I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:
Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.
The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.
The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.
The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.
Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.
The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.
Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".
He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.
This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.
Edit to add further developments:
Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.
Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.
The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.
The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.
The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.
TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).
This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".
This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")
X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.
Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.
The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.
One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.
Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.
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theinsanecrayonbox · 2 months ago
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New Campaign! New character time!!
so yeah, we finished Phandelver last week (my second character, Varya Kulka (the mercenary, the psion-knight, Ilvaash-bane, she's everything (because barbie lol)), was the only survivor...whoops, but hey we won) so next is Vecna...with the 2024 rules
so Shard finally gets to table! and i FINALLY get to be one of my deer ladies!! very excited to be this spooky moldy swamp deer with the voices of decay in her brain. should be fun ^^
but yes she has a playlist that i am very into
Poison - Tarja Turunen
Weak and Powerless [Tilling My Own Grave] - A Perfect Circle
Wheel in the Sky (Journey Cover) - Sara Loera
Dark Horse (in the style of Type O Negative) - Anthony Vincent
Infected - Starset
Go Tell Aunt - from RE7 OST
Riverside - Agnes Obel
Black Roses - Aviators
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ktempestbradford · 9 months ago
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I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me
It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:
At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.
On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."
Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:
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But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:
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It gets worse.
"Tempest, how could it possibly--"
source of this video that also includes this charming description:
Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'
There is already a meme.
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Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:
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Who has already done an interview!
As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!
Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.
The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.
Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!
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I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.
Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:
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I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.
Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:
Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.
Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.
Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.
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I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.
This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.
Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:
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With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"
"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:
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There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.
The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.
Even better, this weirdly grainy image?
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From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.
If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.
As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.
And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...
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This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.
Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.
As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...
Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.
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You cannot make this stuff up.
But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.
Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.
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HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.
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sleep-0-deprived · 2 months ago
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Gyomei Himejima x Male Reader who's a demon who was rehabilitated by Tamayo and one day met Gyomei and it was like love at first sight? And M/N has like a rope/belt like power similar to Daki's? And they wanna experiment with that?đŸ€­
Experiments~ (Gyomei Himijima x demon male reader)~ à»’ê’°àŸ€àœČ˶˃á†ș˂˶ ê’±àŸ€àœČა
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WC:. 2.2k
Tags binding, praises riding, no protection, soft sex (firm believer in Gyomei being a gentle giant), anal sex, size differences, belly bulging, creampies à«źê’° àŸ€àœČ >➝➝➝< àŸ€àœČ꒱ა
A/N I’ve never written for a blind character so please excuse any errors! Sorry it took so long to write I hope you enjoy though <33
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You were a demon. You favored Nezuko and Tamayo in the fact you didn’t follow nor submit to Muzan’s cruel plans and you still kept contact with your human side. That was what led you to meeting lady Tamayo and by default she managed to rehabilitate you over time. You eventually make yourself known to the core, wanting to help the greater cause by fighting against muzan and his demons with them.
The demon slayer corp didn’t trust you at all at first, I mean why would a demon of high status, no- one of Muzan’s most loyal switch sides and come to them and offer himself over?
well you did and master thought the only person fit to handle and keep tabs on you was none other than the stone Hashira Gyomei.
You were forced to stay in the stone estate with Gyomei, and occasionally Genya when he stopped by. Genya was more accepting of you than Gyomei at first being that Genya’s fighting style was him temporarily turning into a demon he was understanding
Genya was more open to the thought not all demons were bad. Gyomei on the other hand was still skeptical keeping his senses strong listening to you at night walking around the estate.
Gyomei would sense your blood demon art at night, he’d expect you to sneak off maybe hunt for food or run back to your master but you never did. You would use your blood demon art to grab things doing the most laziest things with them like opening doors grabbing a pillow that was too far out of reach,
he could tell what you were doing by the sounds of your belts and pillows ruffling. The large man might not have any sight but his other senses were heightened in every way.
Slowly over the months he’d ease his guard and stop holding his body ready like you were about to betray the core, he’d even swoon for you almost when he first heard your voice it made him question if you were really a demon because you sounded just like an angel to him.
Sadly your scent betrayed you showing to him you really were the demon that did such horrific crimes. The rehabilitation brought you close to Gyomei, and you spent most of your days together in the empty estate.
Present day the two of you have been together going close to a month and shockingly you two do have sex, one might think a religious and traditional man like Gyomei would wait for sex until marriage but nothing about his relationship with you was traditional I mean you were a demon and the two of you were both men but he didn’t seem to care.
“I’m bored Gyo?” You’d grumble all sprawled around in his lap like you were a king on a tanned flesh throne “must you lay like that on me [name]?” He’d sigh just reaching one hand down firm on your hip, his voice holding no true disdain having you in his lap
“yes I must!
and you know we could always pass time in other ways Gyomei?” You’d lean close standing on your knees in his lap now leaning into his ear whispering using your thumb to wipe the tears running down his cheeks with his eyes open glossed over as always unblinking and pale white.
“Always insisting sinful things to me, you really can be a from [name] pulling me into temptations with your binds..”his slightly red beneath his skin tracing his hands to your waistband with you straddling his lap in his room of the stone estate.
“Speaking of my binds
.wanna use mine on you when you’re stretching me out. Bind you against me skin to skin while I ride you” you speak shamelessly nearly confident in his lap but he was totally flabbergasted, his body tense you could see red on the tips of his ears with a few hot tears pricking back down his cheek right where your thumb pressed wiping his cheek off again.
His large hands felt your pants around tracing and guiding them to the zipper making due with his lack of sight while you on the other hand let go of his cheek taking your hand down to his pants undoing his fly as he sits under you. With your belts coming out of your back wrapping around his waistband pulling them off softly before turning to blades cutting his boxers up to get his cock out
“you are such an eager demon [name]” his voice rang in the cool night of the estate with his cock hard pressed to his shirt with a pearl like bead of pre cum sitting on his tip, clearly sensitive pulsing eager for touch— which you were happy to give.
“You’re eager too Gyomei, don’t bother telling me different I feel it” you murmur retracting your binds for a moment to Scoot closer lifting your shirt over your head with your cock springing free when he can finally get your boxers off.
You crawl further in his lap sitting down on his cock with it pressed between your cheeks reaching above your crack making a sticky mess in your laps
“always feel so good, boy” he groans grabbing your hips with his teary eyes white and wide as always grinding his cock between your cheeks easily lifting you around like a boy toy in his lap making your binds react wrapping around his back tearing through his haori leaving marks in his skin unintentionally.
“Shit- didn’t mean to Gyo—“ you let out a sharp gasp hushed by him taking one hand off your hip keeping you firmly pressed to his cock reaching his hand up to the back of your head and shoving your face upwards leaning down eagerly kissing you into silence “it’s fine, not worried about it [name]”
He murmurs his tongue pushing past your lips into your mouth running against your cheeks pressing to your tongue making you huff using your binds to fully get his haori and shirt off with the sound of his golden buttons hitting the floor with your chest pressed to his leaving your cock weeping between your thighs pressing all leaky between your stomachs.
“Prep me already gyo..” you muffle out guiding his hand off your hip pulling your mouth off of his panting trying to catch your breadth before shoving two of his fingers down your throat “so warm baby” he speaks his teary face all red and flushed at the lewdly of what was happening with him only being sad his prayer beads weren’t around we hike his cock throbs between your cheeks producing more precum.
“I’m going, be patient or you aren’t getting anything but your own fingers” he finally broke away with a string of saliva his voice booming making a shiver run down your spine pouting pressing more to him feeling his large hand snake out of your mouth using the hand on your hip to lift you off his lap enough to push one finger inside you.
“Hm, you can’t do that to me” you shriek a little panicking with your rim puckering staying still in attempt to adjust to the feeling looking up at the blind Hashira with your binds all sharp and from wrapped around his muscular back holding his larger body to yours while your jaw slacks a little feeling him thrusting his finger in and out massaging your walls curling against your prostate before trying to prod his second finger in you.
“I can, and I will if you don’t get it together in my lap” he hums now scissoring your rim open using the mix of spit on his fingers and precum from where his cock rested between your cheeks to open you up. His fingers rub against your bundle of nerves building up a hot pit in your stomach and you think he knew that too because right as your cock perked up against his stomach he pulled his fingers back out.
“Want you to cum from me, need to know my cock was what pushed you over” his hands trail lifting you up by your hips making your binds lose grip on his back with your hands holding his muscular shoulders while he nudges his cock head against your rim. “Feels like you’re ripping me in half Gyo~” your air fled your lungs leaving you exhaling harshly feeling a burn shoot through your body but any tears quickly heal from your regeneration sealing yourself around him bottoming out inside you leaving a outline in your stomach.
“I bet you look so beautiful sitting on me like this, wish I could see your body. I’d kiss it up in every way” his large arms move on your body grabbing around your waist holding you slowly starting to jerk his hips upwards from beneath you making your rim stretch further and engulf his full length feeling his balls pressed firmly to your cheeks while you dig your nails into his shoulders straddling his large lap.
“I- know you would gyo-mei~” you squeak out, your muscles tensing reaching forward kissing him nearly eating his face off moving your lips against his slipping your hand off his shoulder wrapping around the back of his neck with your binds all slithered around the two of you holding you two skin to skin. His hands hold onto hour hips bouncing you in time with his movements with your thighs on either sides of his hips filling the room with small plap’s of your asscheeks smushing to his balls getting stretched with your cock bobbing back and forth tapping your stomach with your tip an angry red.
“Mh- [name] you’re clenching me so tight, boy” a soft strained sigh leaves his lips starting to pick his pace up holding your hips down firmly groaning against your lips pulling back only to suck in air before smushing his lips back on yours rutting his hips upwards driving into you with his cock stretching you out, his veins dragging along your inner walls while you hold your arms around his neck pulling your mouth off his and shoving his face in your pecs gripping his black hair.
“Just suck em” you moan your Adam’s apple bobbing like your cock while your binds dig at the skin in his back leaving marks from how tight you hold him to you. Gyomei’s cock pushing and nudging into your sweet spot over and over practically bullying your prostate making you feel its pulse while his face buries into your pecs biting at one of your nipples rotating between sucking and biting with his tears dampening your s/c skin.
“I can tell you’re getting close [name], you’re clenching up more- cum for me baby” he murmurs pressing sloppy kisses over your perked up buds holding your hips tighter making the bulge in your tummy bigger feeling a burning pain build up inside you from being fucked and spread open on him so long. One hand in Gyomei’s hair and the other holding his shoulder firm rocking your hips downwards into his thrusts trying your hardest to feel him deeper and deeper inside you with your belts tightening even more erupting a moan from the larger man.
“Oh fuck-oh I’m gonna—! I’m cumming~!” You mewl out shoving his face in your pecs harder arching your back up straight with your hips rolling erratically clenching and clamping as tight as you can around him breaking his skin with your other hand digging nails in his shoulder with your cock stiffening nearly jumping forward shooting sperm in its own groaning dropping your head forward on top of his when your cock shots a final rope of cum onto his stomach.
“That’s a good boy, gonna make me cum won’t you?” His chin resting on your rib cage blowing on your sensitive peaks rocking his hips forwards into you slowing down going in deeper and longer thrusts trying to let your rim milk him while he hits his own climax, the muscles under your hand tensing up letting you know the fire in his loin is bursting hot feeling the first spurt enter you making you shiver your eyes half lidded getting filled up.
“So warm” you coo out in his lap feeling your bulging tummy bloat up some with your binds slowly loosing around him letting him go as they retract back inside your back with your regeneration healing up your once broken skin. “Did I go over board [name]?.. how are you feeling?” He’d murmur lifting his head from your chest with a serious expression on his face needing to hear your verbal words not being able to see your reaction.
His tears flow freely down his cheeks making you sigh in his lap reaching your hand up from his hair and off his shoulder wiping his cheeks mumbling “I’m great Gyo, you were great.” Leaning in with a kiss on his cheek sitting still on his cock letting out a little hiss when you lift yourself off his cock feeling his semen slipping from your now loosened rim leaving your cheeks all slick when he grabs your waist and lays back pulling you right on top of his chest holding you laying on his mat in his personal bedroom of the stone estate letting you pull a blanket up.
“In the morning I’ll make sure to draw you a bath inside the estate, I know your beautiful skin is sensitive to the sunlight” he spoke in a soft tone to you holding you to him in a comfortingly tight regard rubbing at the back of your head and if it wasn’t for you being a demon he’d personally take you to the saunas but he knew that wasn’t possible with your inability to stand in the sun, doesn’t mean he still won’t give you the great aftercare you deserve.
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littengamer909 · 2 years ago
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imho the most jarring thing in Sky is not the dramatic shift from Valley of Triumph's joy and light to Golden Wasteland's gloom and sadness, nor is it going straight from the peaceful halls of Vault of Knowledge to the intense cliffs of the Eye of Eden. no. the most jarring thing in Sky is seeing your veteran friend, who has been an ikeman since the time you first met them, turn into a chibi.
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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago
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for the fear of falling apart | part five
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there's one last chance for everything to fall apart, but this time you aren't at the center of disaster - Spencer is
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: lots of future talk (marriage and pregnancy), takes place during 15x10 "and in the end", explosions, the chameleon arc, spencer's hospital stay, sibling loss, diana's alzheimers, canon cm violence word count: 7.34k a/n: so this is the last part! i can't resist doing an epilogue, so a cutie little "where are they now" part on the horizon, but this was always the way it was going to end. as always, telling me your thoughts is the sexiest thing you can do.
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“She’s not a threat,” Spencer pointed out, carrying on a conversation with you while he adjusted the straps of your bulletproof vest, pulling it tightly around you to cover as much of your torso as possible. You’d complain about him taking away your ability to breathe but if it brought peace to his busy mind, you could sacrifice your full lung capacity.
You flattened your palm against the SWAT truck for support while he resumed tugging at the Velcro straps of your Kevlar, “Speak for yourself! You’re not the favorite stepdaughter of a woman that you can’t stand.”
Deciding your vest was as secure as it was going to get, Spencer stood up, sharing a look with the SWAT commander before turning his attention back to you, “Why are you the favorite stepdaughter again?”
Dramatically, you tilted your head back and looked at the sky, “Because JJ had a child out of wedlock. I’m the favorite by default.” It was funny to think of your stepmother choosing you as a favorite, but you supposed the pickings were rather slim. “Hey,” you continued, “There’s an idea.”
“Uh huh,” Spencer responded mockingly, “Pick a new subject, please.”
Rolling your eyes, you rested fully against the armored truck, scuffing your boots against the gravel driveway to Everett Lynch’s house. “You’re no fun,” you accused, trying to use your family issues as a discussion to pass the time before you had permission from Emily to put your plan into motion.
Spencer hummed in response, watching your sister as she answered her phone and hopefully received instruction from Emily. You didn't like lingering out here like sitting ducks, no matter how many armed agents there were with you.
Matching JJ’s gaze, she nodded to you and Spencer, letting you know that Emily had given the go-ahead.
Quickly, Spencer slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed the number that he had previously memorized. You heard the phone ring as he held it up to his ear, and then a woman’s voice came through, “No, Roberta my name is Dr. Spencer Reid and it’s important that you listen to me right now.” He fed the Lynch matriarch instructions over the phone, “Even though you have the gun, the moment your son realizes you’re not gonna shoot him, he’s gonna get the upper hand.”
You couldn’t make out her response, but based on the way Spencer’s eyebrows were pinched together, you worried he wasn’t getting through to her.
“Yes,” he answered over the phone, “but first you need to let Olivia walk out of there, okay?” The next step was simple enough, and not long after he spoke, you saw the teenager run out of the house.
JJ had the opportunity to take the Chameleon out earlier that day, but he’d used Olivia and her diabetes as a bargaining chip. You lingered with Spencer while JJ ran out to meet her, gently guiding her behind the barricade to the waiting ambulance. 
Instinctively, you set your hand on your firearm as a single gunshot rang out from the house, “Roberta,” Spencer urged, “that warning shot is what’s about to give you away, but we can help. Are you ready for us to come in?” He waited almost too long before speaking again, “Roberta?”
He looked back at the SWAT captain as everything hinged on Roberta’s response, and when Spencer gave the order to breach, you took your spot next to the armored truck. Your instructions were very clear, you were in charge of Everett once he was apprehended, and JJ was in charge of Roberta.
Across from you, JJ’s phone rang, you couldn’t hear either end of the conversation, but you could see the fear in her eyes when she looked up at Spencer and all of the other SWAT agents headed toward the structure. You took a few steps forward, trying to follow after Spencer, but JJ shouted your name and caught your attention right as the bomb went off.
The blast warped your perception of time. You looked back at the house on fire before your eyes automatically searched for Spencer. Everything was moving in slow motion, but even so, there he was, on the ground. “Spence,” you yelped before scrambling forward, dropping to your knees at his side.
Spencer started to rise from the driveway, propping himself up on his elbows. He likely couldn’t hear you, based on the way your own ears were ringing while you checked him over for injuries.
“Are you okay?” You asked him anyway, “Baby, can you hear me?” He tried to sit up, but you settled your hands on his shoulders, “No, it’s okay, stay down.” You continued to speak to him, taking time to shout instructions for the now scrambled first responders.
JJ called your name again, causing your head to snap in her direction, “Your head is bleeding,” she told you, jogging toward you and Spencer.
You rose on shaky legs as your sister took your face in her hands, frantically checking the wound that you couldn’t feel. Waving away paramedics, you urged them to assist the downed SWAT agents instead of you, “It’s fine, Jayg,” you breathed, straightening yourself out and keeping an eye on Spencer.
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“Are you feeling alright?” You whispered to Spencer, noting the lack of focus in his eyes, you resisted the urge to wave your hand in front of his face.
He hummed in response, “I’m fine.”
Unable to help it, you frowned at him. ‘Fine’ had been his only sensation from the moment you arrived at the hospital in Reno until now. ‘Fine’ was a term used by people who were avoiding any genuine emotion, and you couldn’t entirely blame him. Last you heard the casualty count from the explosion was up to seven – including Everett and Roberta Lynch.
He’d gotten an MRI at the hospital – not that you’d given him much choice – and it came back clear, so the rest of the team wasted no time in having the jet prepared to return to Quantico.
It wasn’t the silence that unnerved you, it was the absence of activity. Your sister sat in one of the chairs, periodically turning her head to check on you, Rossi and Matt had claimed their own spots throughout the aircraft, and you and Spencer were sequestered next to the galley. Everyone seemed to be disassociating from the events of the day.
You willed Spencer to pull a book out of his bag and start reading. You silently begged him to do something that you could find comfort in. Instead, he noticed you staring and leaned over to gently kiss the unmarred side of your forehead.
Taking a raincheck on Penelope’s vision-boarding, you made sure the two of you got home in one piece. “Do you need to clean it?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the mark on your forehead.
You kicked off your shoes in the entryway, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as he sat down on the couch. “No, maybe in the morning,” you responded. “Are you gonna come to bed?”
“In a bit,” he offered, leaning his head back to look at you one more time before you disappeared into the bedroom.
There were a lot of things about the day that didn’t make any sense, but the one thing you couldn’t wrap your head around was Everett Lynch’s suicide. Not to be mistaken with sympathy, you didn’t understand how his particular personality type could choose to blow itself up. He was too confident, too narcissistic for that.
The doubt kept waking you up, each time you hoped to find that Spencer had finally come to bed. Once the clock struck four in the morning and he still hadn’t come to lie down, you crawled out of bed, expecting to find him asleep on the couch.
Your heart dropped when you found him on the floor, dried blood crusted around his nose, deathly still.
Phone, phone, phone – where was your phone?
Grabbing his phone off of the coffee table, your head spun as you dialed 911, crouching next to him as you tried to make out the sound of his breathing.
In a four-in-the-morning fugue, you went through the motions, answering all of the dispatcher’s questions, all of the paramedic’s questions, and all of the nurse’s questions.
The emergency department nurse looked at you sadly, not much more than a pile of limbs in a stiff plastic chair, “Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Swallowing thickly, you shrugged in response. You wanted her to call everyone and no one at the same time, building up walls around yourself made of materials that you couldn’t name. You needed to call Emily. You needed to call Diana. Frowning at the nurse, you gave it another moment of thought before responding, “My sister.”
JJ didn’t answer.
The nurse tried her twice and you called once from your phone, but there was no answer.
Spencer didn’t wake up. Dr. K didn’t seem confident that he would.
Like a metronome, the steady beeping of Spencer’s vital monitor nearly lulled you to sleep until the ringing of a phone interrupted the pattern. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and your stomach lurched at the realization that your sister was finally calling you back, “I have been trying to reach you all morning.”
Your sister was silent on the other side, and you wondered if you had come on too strong. “What happened?”
The world was falling apart around you. Your castle was crumbling with you in it. You looked longingly at Spencer before you answered, “I think he’s dying.”
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Time passed in an inordinate pattern, convincing yourself that hours had passed when it had only been minutes. You had moved your chair to Spencer’s bedside, tracing the scar on the inside of his palm in time with the steady rising and falling of his chest.
“Have you been here all night?” Your older sister’s voice rang from the doorway, she didn’t wait to be welcomed in, immediately moving to the side of the bed opposite to you.
Your eyes followed her hand as she gently set a palm on his shoulder, her blonde hair curling around her face as she studied Spencer’s appearance. Quickly, she caught herself, straightening up and making her way around the bed so that she stood behind you, smoothing a hand through your hair like she did when you were just kids.
Penelope followed behind JJ on a delay, her skin paling at the sight of Spencer in the hospital bed. She stood at the foot of the bed, placing her hands on the footboard and taking several deep breaths.
“I went to bed without him last night. I wasn’t sleeping well, so when I woke up at four in the morning and he hadn’t made it to bed I went to see if he had fallen asleep on the couch, but he was just
 on the floor,” You told them absently, watching Spencer as he slept and recalling the way you had found him in the apartment. His body contorted from falling on the ground with a puddle of blood beginning to gather beneath his head.
You couldn’t look at them. You couldn’t look away from him knowing that it could be the last time you see him alive. “What do you need?” JJ asked, continuing to smooth down your hair.
Clasping his hand in yours, you nodded to yourself reassuringly, “Can you call Brookfield? I need to talk to Diana. If she’s lucid enough, can you ask if they can bring her here? If he
 she should be here.” Sinking into an abyss of unknowns, at the very least you knew that he’d want his mother here with him.
The two blondes shared a wary look, and you steeled yourself for a difficult conversation. Penelope left to call Brookfield on your behalf, but JJ stayed behind, dragging one of the plastic chairs over to the bed so she could sit next to you. “We got the casualty report back from the medical examiner in Reno,” she informed you; her voice was low – the tone she took up when she wasn’t sure how to navigate a situation.
You nodded in understanding, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“There were six SWAT agents, Roberta Lynch, and Orlando Gaines,” she told you gently, watching your face for any sign of a reaction.
You frowned, expecting her to add Everett Lynch to the tally later on for dramatic effect, but the moment never came, “Oh,” you breathed, looking at Spencer.
JJ continued to explain that, based on the blueprints of the house that he had pilfered from one of his victims, he had likely escaped using a tunnel system beneath the house. The Chameleon was in the wind, and Spencer might just be his latest victim. “We know he’s not done though,” JJ tried to reassure you, “He’ll resurface somewhere.”
“We don’t know where and we don’t know when, though,” you told her, an edge of despair creeping into your voice. He should’ve died. Everett Lynch should be dead, and you shouldn’t be sitting next to Spencer’s hospital bed right now. “And Spencer might die for no reason,” you added. There was a slight chance that you could, someday, find comfort in Spencer succumbing to injuries sustained in a blast that took out The Chameleon, but with Lynch still out there, you were struggling to find any glimpse of a silver lining.
Your sister looked at a loss for words, reaching out her hand and dropping it to your knee when you didn’t take it. She mumbled something about letting it go for Spencer’s sake, but Spencer was unconscious, if you held on to your grudge against your sister, he was none the wiser. It brought you back to something he had told you after Grace Lynch shot you – I don’t want you to forget your anger.
Glancing over at her briefly, you took a deep breath, “You should get back to Quantico – the team will need you to catch Lynch.”
“No,” she said, pinching her brows together, “I’m going to stay here.”
Pursing your lips, you gave her a sidelong glance, “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you going to stay here, JJ? Do you want to stay at the hospital for my sake or for Spencer’s?” Keeping your hand tucked into his, you didn’t budge when she pulled her hand off of your knee, and even then, you had your answer. “I’m asking you to please, go back to Quantico and find Everett Lynch. Spencer will have me, his mom, and Penelope with him and I need you to find the person who did this to him. I’m asking you to go, so you aren’t staying for me.”
She was looking at you in pure disbelief, “Ducky, I don’t-“ She faltered, “I thought we were all friends again. You told me you understood where I was coming from.”
Nodding in agreement, you recalled the conversation you had with her while Spencer was with Cat Adams, “I told you I understood how you could be in love with him because I’m in love with him, but I have limits, JJ, and there comes a point where I just can’t understand why you keep using your love as a weapon.”
“I- I’m not,” she insisted, but you could hear the unease in her voice.
You shrugged, “Maybe it’s not your intention, but you are fighting a one-sided battle. You’re married and Spencer and I are engaged, and you have single-handedly destroyed our relationship.”
JJ scoffed in disbelief, “You and Spencer seem to be doing just fine.”
“I’m not talking about me and Spencer, I’m talking about me and you,” you corrected her. “At Rossi’s wedding, you told me that you had meant what you said to Spencer when you were in the pawn shop, and every day since then you have refused to give me the space that I’ve asked for.” Your hands shook as your eyes flittered between her and your fiancĂ©, “You’re my big sister, JJ. You’re always going to be my big sister, and I am always going to love you because of that, but we aren’t friends, so don’t try to pretend you’re doing this for me.”
She tilted her head to the side, “I didn’t want space – you’re my sister.”
“But I needed space,” you emphasized, the one thing that JJ had never seemed to understand. You were the one who got hurt in the process, “I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired, and I can’t pretend to be your friend anymore while you can’t even be a decent sister. You tell me that you and Spencer have all of this history, that you’ve known each other for fifteen years, but you’ve been my sister for thirty-two. You keep asking for me to hear you out, and yet you haven’t once listened to me. Go back to Quantico, go find Lynch, and be my fucking sister.”
You couldn’t be friends with someone who had been long harboring a crush on your partner, and it didn’t make sense for you to make any exceptions for her. “Okay, I’ll um
 I’ll go,” she told you, hesitating for a moment before she nodded to herself and walked out of the room. You knew what you told her stung, you were sending her out with her tail between her legs, but you didn't have the gracefulness to coddle her anymore.
Slowly, you leaned your head down, gently setting your chin on the sidebar of Spencer’s hospital bed, keeping a watchful eye on him even as tears streamed down your face.
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Your eyes were dry by the time Diana arrived, being guided by one of her nurses and intercepted by Garcia, who had known better than to ask any questions when your sister left in a hurry. With your sight zeroed in on the rising and falling of Spencer’s chest, you listened to the conversation, “Oh, Diana, hi,” Penelope said, unable to hide the panic in her voice, “Hi, it’s Penelope. I work with Spencer. I’ve come to see you before,” she explained.
Garcia had tagged along multiple times to see Diana at Brookfield, which was likely why they were so receptive when she called the facility. “You’re almost as tall as I am,” Diana responded and your heart sunk, worried that she might not be stable enough to face this.
“Diana,” Penelope continued gently, “Spencer fell, and he hit his head really hard, and he’s not conscious.” Her words were carefully chosen to avoid raising any alarm.
“Well, let’s wake him up,” Diana insisted, and you straightened up at the sound of footsteps approaching, “Let’s see him.”
Penelope practically stumbled in behind her, “No, wait.”
His mother nodded, not even acknowledging you as she walked in, “He’ll listen to me
 Spencer,” she called to him. Seconds later, you saw it, the moment the switch in her brain flipped and an internal war started, “it’s not him,” she murmured. “No. No, no, no,” the conviction in her voice broke your heart, “This is not my son.”
Silently, you sat back in your chair, trying to think of something you could say to her to reassure her, but you couldn’t even console yourself.
Then she reached out for his hand, turning his wrist over and exposing the inside of his wrist, the small star-shaped scar that marred his skin facing the ceiling, “Oh, my baby,” she breathed. “Oh, my baby,” she leaned over Spencer, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, cupping his face with her hands, and begging with an unknown force, “Oh, please.”
Unable to tolerate the sight of her begging for Spencer to wake up, you quietly got up from your chair, hugging your arms around yourself before walking out of the room.
For years, Diana and Spencer had been all each other had, and you couldn’t imagine what this was like for her. To have her son fighting for his life in the hospital while she spent every day trying to hold on to fleeting memories of him. You couldn’t watch her, afraid of losing him. It wasn’t supposed to work like that – parents weren’t supposed to have to bury their children.
You thought about calling your mom, knowing she’d drop everything and drive the four hours to come be with you, but maybe it would be cruel. It would be cruel to have her watch a parent lose a child when she had lost her own.
Leaning your head back against the taupe walls of the hospital, you glanced over at Penelope, giving her a stiff smile.
“Hey, you,” she said, shoving her laptop in her bag before making her way over to you. “How are you holding up?”
You laughed humorlessly, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes before looking back up at her, “I’m not entirely sure that I am.”
Her eyes were filled with grief, and you knew that she was another person in Spencer’s life who didn’t deserve more loss, “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?”
Food had been approximately the last thing on your list of concerns today, but you hadn’t eaten since Reno yesterday. You shook your head, “I’m not hungry,” You were actually a bit queasy, but you weren’t entirely sure if you were nauseous from your current predicament or if it was because you hadn’t eaten anything. “Maybe later,” you tried to appease her.
“Okay,” she sighed, “I don’t know what happened between you and JJ, but I do know that something happened. I might not know what it’s like between sisters, but I do know what it’s like to be a sister.” Garcia gave you a soft smile, “Do you need to talk about it?”
Desperately. Your chest ached at the idea of being able to talk to someone else about what had gone down between you and your sister, but you shook your head, “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
The understanding expression on her face deepened the ache in your chest, but she reached out and pulled you into a hug, “I know the two of you will figure it out.” She pulled away, sweeping tears from under her eyes, “I know you said you’re not hungry, but I’m going to go down to the cafeteria and I’ll get you something to pick at. You look like you need it.”
You smiled at her concern and gave her a small wave as she made her way through the hallways. It was sweet that she had faith in the sororal bond between you and JJ – even more than you had, but you just didn’t see it the way she did. There had always been an expectation of you and JJ growing up that you’d always make up because you were the only sibling that each other had left.
That expectation had led to a lot of issues being swept under the rug, maybe too many issues, but you couldn’t forgive JJ, not fully. Even under the weight of the obligation to forgive her for the sake of your familial tie, you couldn’t let this one go. JJ had broken any semblance of trust between the two of you, and even if you worked to rebuild that trust, the cracks were always going to be there.
When you and Spencer had fought and you knocked a bowl off of the counter, he made a remark about how the bowl could be fixed with kintsugi, but the bowl would always have cracks, no matter how pretty the gold looked in the seams. You and JJ would never get back to where you had been, and now, you were sure that you didn’t want to go back.
Wiping a few stray tears from beneath your eyes, you nodded to yourself before walking back into the hospital room, introducing Diana and Dr. K before the doctor gave you some information, telling you that Spencer’s brain was bleeding.
Tilting your head to the side, “No, I made sure he got an MRI at the hospital. The doctor there told us it was completely clear,” you assured her, remembering how you refused to let Spencer board the jet without getting an MRI.
Dr. K nodded, “We got the scans sent over from the hospital in Reno, there’s a small bleed that was possibly overlooked. From what you’ve told me, it seems like they were overwhelmed and needed to get other people through,” she told you, making it seem like no more than a clerical error.
“So
” you dragged out the vowel, trying to wrap your head around this reality, “His brain’s been bleeding since yesterday?”
The doctor affirmed your suspicions, “Boarding a plane with even the smallest of brain bleeds can have catastrophic consequences. In Spencer’s case, it’s caused intracranial hemorrhaging. Parts of his brain are shutting down and other parts are struggling to survive.”
Your stomach flipped at the mention of his brain shutting down, the term was far too close to brain death for comfort, “Is he
 is he already gone, then?” You asked, faltering over your words.
“No,” she gave you some reassurance, “There’s a chance that his brain bleed will resolve on its own.”
“But not a good chance,” you observed, taking Spencer’s hand in your own. “Is there anything that can be done?”
The doctor adjusted the tablet in her hands, “The conservative approach would be surgery. It may reduce the swelling around Spencer’s brain faster. There is risk, it could cause seizures and even more bleeding,” she explained to the both of you.
The image in your mind of brain surgery didn’t bring you any reassurance, you looked up at Diana. Until you and Spencer got married, she was his next of kin. Spencer didn’t have any kind of healthcare directive for a situation like this, and you weren’t entirely sure where to go from here.
His mom shrugged at you, shaking her head, “I thought it was Tuesday, and it’s not Tuesday. So, I can’t tell you,” she answered, looking at you helplessly.
Turning your head to Dr. K, you asked, “Could we have a minute?”
The doctor gave you both an understanding look before stepping out of the room.
“What would he want?” Diana asked you, looking at you expectantly, “I don’t want to make the decision.”
Abhorring the idea that you would be the one to make the decision, you looked up at Diana, “I’m not sure,” you admitted.
“He always says he trusts you the most,” she told you. “Oh, for years in his letters, he’d always talk about you. Even before you started dating – it was always about you in a way I’d never heard him talk about anyone,” she continued, nodding as if she were convincing herself. “If he trusts you that much, then I have no problem trusting you.”
You didn’t want it to be up to you, and before you had the opportunity to answer, the alarm on Spencer’s vital monitor started going off. “Oh my god,” You breathed, moving back to allow the nurses space as they crowded around Spencer’s bed.
“What’s happening to my boy?” Diana asked, placing her hands in front of her mouth in shock, “What is happening to him?”
Watching quietly as he seized, you listened to his mom cry out for him and decided you wanted to wait a bit longer before resorting to surgery.
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Picking at the bread of the sandwich that Penelope had gotten you from the cafeteria, you found yourself more amenable to sipping at the water she had brought you than you were toward actually eating something. According to Garcia, the team was hot on Everett Lynch’s trail, but she wouldn’t give you any more details than that.
Periodically, Spencer’s hand would twitch, but you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. You tried not to get your hopes up, not until Dr. K said something reassuring.
With the doctor in the room, there were four pairs of eyes watching his every move, no matter how minuscule. You leaned back in the chair, gently tracing the lines in his palm, “His
 his eyes are fluttering,” you observed aloud, not daring to look away, afraid your mind was playing tricks on you.
“That’s a good sign,” Dr. K said, leaning forward and observing the same thing as you.
Penelope inclined her head to look up at the doctor, “Is he gonna be okay?”
She looked uneasy, “He’s putting up one hell of a fight, but it’s still too early to know for sure,” she answered diplomatically, checking something on her tablet before excusing herself.
Shortly after, Garcia’s phone started to ring, she brought it out into the hallway, letting you know she’d be right back.
Leaving just you and Diana in the room with Spencer, you watched as she continued to smooth his hair back, being able to see the maternal gesture made your chest ache – you never knew how many more moments there would be. “Has he been here before?” She asked you, “In the hospital, like this?”
You nodded slowly, moving through a fog of exhaustion as the day came to an end, “Yes,” you told her, memories of Briscoe County bubbled to the surface.
“Were you there for him?” She continued, wondering if someone had been there for her baby when she couldn’t be.
You had sat around his hospital bed with Alex and Penelope, waiting for him to wake up while Penelope set up Doctor Who figurines throughout the room. “Yes,” you answered again.
“Oh,” she sighed, “How awful,” she commiserated.
While a corrupt precinct wasn’t a new concept to the BAU, that case had been particularly difficult on the team, and there had been a day, much like today, where you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to tell Spencer you loved him again.
You didn’t tell him you loved him before going to bed last night.
“It was, actually,” you remembered, previously buried memories of time spent in hospital rooms. Months ago, your roles had been reversed, and Spencer had been the one begging you to wake up.
After a moment, Diana leaned forward a bit, “Spencer,” she spoke to him, “I saw some cumuliform heaps today. His favorite clouds,” She added the last bit for you, “I plucked that for him,” she explained as Penelope came back into the room. “Everything is up there, and we pluck what we want when we want, and we let go what we don’t.”
Penelope grinned, “That sounds very good. Okay, I am plucking a memory about Spencer’s eyes, and they are brown with gold on the outside,” she posited. 
Diana hummed, “I think they’re gold on the inside.”
Tantalizingly slowly, Spencer’s eyes started to open, and your heart raced as a mix of emotions flooded through you. As your eyes met him, you smiled sadly and whispered, “Gold on the inside.”
“Hey,” Garcia said, the smile plain in her voice, “we were just plucking eye memories of you.”
He returned the smiles in the room, “I heard you.” Spencer hummed, “Forgot how much I loved those clouds, mom. You helped me remember.”
Diana grinned, any remaining trace of grief wiped from her face, “I did, huh?” Well, maybe I can come back tomorrow, and we can watch clouds together,” she offered.
“Am I still dreaming?” He asked rhetorically.
“Sweetie,” she cupped his cheek with a maternal gentleness, “You are very much alive.”
Once Diana was on her way back to Brookfield and Penelope – still not providing you with any details – left to go check in with the team, you rested your head on the armrest of his hospital bed, maintaining a watchful eye on him. “I love you,” you whispered to him after Dr. K left for the night.
He hummed, tired eyes looking back at you, “You’ve said that three times in the last ten minutes.”
“And?” You inquired, furrowing your brows.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, “And I love you too.”
You smiled at him, “Thank you for having a traumatic brain injury so I could delay my stepmother’s visit.”
At that, he fully grinned up at you, “It was all part of my plan.”
A thousand words rested on the tip of your tongue, asking him how he was feeling and about healthcare directives and how he chose his favorite cloud, but everything felt so important and so inconsequential at the same time.  
“You should go home,” he spoke before you had the chance to, “Get some good rest, sleep in a real bed.”
You shook your head succinctly, “I’m gonna stay here.”
He raised his eyebrows, “The nurses will keep coming in all night and wake you up,” he insisted, knowing well enough that the hospital chairs did not make for a good night’s rest.
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be but here tomorrow,” you told him, thumbing the fabric of his hospital blanket as you insisted on staying.
Spencer shifted slightly on the bed, trying to get a better look at you, “You need to take care of yourself.”
His concern comforted you, but you still shook your head, “If I don’t stay here next to you, I’ll drive myself crazy. This is the best place for me.” You picked your head up, reaching out to cup his cheek and smiling to yourself when he leaned into your touch. “What’re you thinking about?”
His head lolled lazily on the pillows, brown eyes – with gold on the inside – studying your features like he was trying to make sense of something in his muddled brain, “I had a weird dream.”
Most of the time, Spencer didn’t give credit to dream analysis, so when he had dreams that he deemed inexplicable, he’d make his head spin trying to find a logical reason. “Maybe it’s a side effect of the seizure medication they put you on,” you proposed, skimming the apple of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.
Spencer didn’t look convinced, “I saw people while I was unconscious.” His attempt at explaining gave you more insight on what he was struggling with, he had a complicated relationship with the concept of the afterlife.
“Oh, yeah?” You asked softly, hoping the two of you could talk it out.
He nodded almost indeterminably, “Strauss, Foyet, Gideon,” he elaborated, opening his mouth to add another name, but he faltered when the time came.
“Your brain was looking for manifestations of guilt,” you analyzed, each of those deaths had affected him in one way or another. “Using your past traumas against you,” you continued.
He still seemed unsure, “I’m not sure that’s all of it, some of it, sure, but
”
Your chest ached at the confusion in his gaze, “Was there someone else you saw?”
He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillows and looking at the dimmed fluorescent lights of the hospital room, “A little kid. A girl,” he told you, closing his eyes as if he was trying to recall the child from his dream.
“Well,” you considered it, “If your brain was using the other three as a manifestation of guilt, maybe the little girl is a manifestation of hope. The part of your subconscious telling you to stay formed her to represent the people you can still help.”
Spencer frowned deeply, looking at you again, “I guess I assumed there was a deeper meaning to it.”
You raised your eyebrows, “What else do you think it could be?”
“I thought
” he faltered, “I’m not sure.”
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“Are you alright?” Spencer asked you, already starting to walk through Dave’s house to where everyone was gathering on the patio.
You stood in the foyer, pressing your lips together as you shifted the strap of your purse over your shoulder before finally hanging it up. Looking up at Spencer, you dropped your arms to your sides, “What?”
His eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I asked if you were alright. Are you?”
Your eyes widened, “Oh, oh yeah. It’s just weird, you know? Pen leaving,” the half-truth slipped easily from your lips.
“It feels like everyone’s changing except for us,” he said, returning to you in the foyer so that the two of you could walk outside together.
“Ha,” you said humorlessly, “Right.” Penelope was leaving, having decided that Silicon Valley was too far for her, but landing a job with a nonprofit in D.C. and leaving the BAU behind. Emily was house hunting in Denver, not for a permanent move, but for something for her to share with Andrew.
You and Spencer were staying with the BAU, he wanted to split time between consulting and teaching, similar to what he had done during his sabbaticals. “Well,” he ceded, “We’re not changing much.”
The two of you emerged onto the patio hand-in-hand, being on the receiving end of welcoming smiles that had an air of relief. Everyone was still in that phase of remembering how grateful they were to have him around every time they saw him. “How ya feeling, kid?” Rossi asked, standing around the table with Krystall.
Spencer set his hand on the small of your back before responding, “Feeling great, and I’m starting back next week. Can’t let the team be down two members,” he mused, looking down at you reassuringly.
Next to you, Tara scoffed, “Oh, come on, teaching and consulting? You’re making me look bad.”
“Just doing what I love,” Spencer replied candidly.
Luke raised his champagne, “Hey, I will drink to that,”
You prepared yourself to turn down a drink, thinking up an excuse until Penelope stepped out onto the patio, “Uh, you’re not supposed to start the festivities until the belle of the ball has arrived,” she jokingly protested, giving everyone a little twirl in a very Garcia-fashion.
Leaning into Spencer slightly, the two of you watched as Luke put his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, okay? ‘Cause this is gonna be the first of many.”
“Penelope!” Kristy called out from across the table, “Congratulations! Here I thought we were coming to celebrate Dave’s retirement, but Matt said it’s your farewell party. And you had like a hundred offers,” she said, beaming from across the table.
Garcia waved her hand in faux humility, “Oh, that’s only if you round up, but yes,” she said excitedly. “Anyway, it’s a nonprofit, it’s close to here, and the dress code is all FBI conservative like I’ve been having to do,” she said, ignoring the doubtful looks that were shared around the table.
“I’m still in denial that you’re leaving,” JJ told her mournfully, a slight frown on her face.
Matt shook his head, “It won’t be the same without you.”
“Better not be,” Penelope scolded, her tone suggesting that she found the idea ridiculous.
Emily leaned over the table to clarify for Kristy, “Dave decided he wasn’t going to retire. He didn’t want the team to go through too much of a transition all at once.”
“That’s ‘cause Dave’s never gonna actually do it,” Krystall interjected, saying what many members of the BAU had also thought.
“Hey,” Rossi protested in mock offense, “Look, being with you all, doing what few others can, that’s where I belong.” He turned to Garcia, “But this night is not about me. To our beloved Penelope – a salut.”
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Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Luke and Penelope wander off to the patio, the two of them seeking out water. You made a mental note to ask her what it was about just as Spencer approached you, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
You waved off his concern, making your way over to the house, hoping there were hors d’oeuvres remaining in the kitchen. “I’m fine, this is Pen’s night,” you explained to Spencer as he followed you.
“Right, that’s reassuring,” he responded sardonically, trailing close behind you through the kitchen.
Turning back to him, you pleaded, “Can you let this go? Just for now.”
Spencer frowned, “I thought we were working on our communication.”
Silently, you cursed him for bringing up your therapist’s – who was likely going to have a field day when she found out – tactics. “Spence,” you complained, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.
“Y/N,” he answered in kind.
Groaning, you looked around the kitchen before dragging Spencer into the pantry by his shirt. You flipped the light on and looked up at him, “I had my yearly physical this morning.”
He knew this, in order to remain eligible to stay in the field, everyone needed to have a yearly physical performed by an FBI physician. The concern on his face deepened, “I- Are you okay?”
“I’m pregnant,” you breathed, the words that had been balancing on your tongue for the better of the day. You wished you had been able to give him a better announcement. A card or a onesie, anything would have been better than turning Rossi’s pantry into a confessional.
Instantly, you saw the gears turning in his head as he tried to do the math, “That would mean
” he started, eyes widening as he came to different conclusions.
You nodded, “I’ve been pregnant. They couldn’t give an accurate estimate based on just the blood test and I’ve been trying to figure it out, but-“
“Eight weeks,” Spencer answered, the concern refusing to waver as he studied your appearance.
He was looking for signs and trying to remember symptoms, and you didn’t blame him. You had always assumed you’d have some idea, but you were so shocked that the FBI physician had insisted that you lay down before driving home.
The same surprise was pasted across Spencer’s face now, his hands tentatively placed on either side of your waist, thumbs hovering over your abdomen, “You were pregnant when the house blew up in Reno.” His voice solemn as he held back any excitement, “Did the doctor
 is everything alright?”
“He said if anything had happened as a result of the blast, we’d know by now,” you offered some reassurance, having shared the same worry when you found out that morning. You wanted him to be happy, because once Spencer was happy about this, you could be happy.
Spencer shifted his weight, “But you made an appointment with an obstetrician, right?”
Slouching slightly, you looked up at him, “First thing Monday morning. Spencer-“
“If I had known, I never would’ve let you go to Nevada,” he interrupted, instantly protective.
“Spencer,” you startled him, “Are you happy?”
He paused and your chest ached more and more with every moment he remained silent, “Did you think that I wouldn’t be?”
You released a small sigh of relief, smiling at him sheepishly, “It’s just
 it’s a surprise,” you offered quietly. “Is it awful timing?”
“No,” he insisted, pulling you in by the waist and wrapping his arms around you. He leaned his head down, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, “It’s perfect,” he reassured you. “I love you,” he whispered, voice muffled as he held you tightly – held you together.
The two of you remained that way until a knock at the door came, “Hey, uh,” Luke’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, “If you guys are doing freaky shit in Rossi’s pantry he’s gonna be pissed.”
Standing up straight, you clasped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to cover up your laugh. Spencer looked equally as amused, dropping a kiss to your lips before reaching behind you to open the door, revealing Luke and his impish grin.
He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the both of you as he walked backward out the door, “I was sent in to get you. Rumor has it they’re about to play the belle of the ball’s favorite song.”
You and Spencer shared a knowing look, “Heroes,” the both of you said in unison.
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scarlet-bitch · 3 months ago
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You'd Have to Stop the World...
11.5k words, FWB Eddie X afab!reader, 18+ Explicit Content - MDNI, use of "baby" as a nickname, no use of y/n, little to no description of reader, set in Hawkins 1990 so everyone's aged up accordingly, no mention of upside down - could sorta be canon if you pretend vecna was defeated and eddie never got attacked by the bats but reader wouldn't know it ever existed. * fair amount of smut in this especially the beginning - it's a fwb plot so... but yes, there is plot. lots of angst and some fluff*
a/n: most of my ideas are usually inspired by a song - the concept for this came entirely through a playlist I made, so l added the track list! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! xo, scarlet 💋
Struggling through a dry spell, an ideas comes to you when your attractive friend Eddie vents about his recent disappointing hookups. What starts as casual fun gradually complicates as physical and emotional boundaries begin to blur.
“I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?”
A few years ago, you met Eddie Munson, thanks to an introduction from your then coworkers, Robin and Steve. What began as a casual acquaintance in a larger group quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.
But as with many great friendships, a new romance - this time with Matt - changed the dynamics. As your relationship with Matt grew, so did the distance between you and Eddie. Matt didn’t like him, his dislike fueled by a few key grievances: he accused Eddie of overcharging for weed, could barely tolerate Eddie’s metal music - and was visibly irritated by the number of times you dragged him to Eddie’s shows. Yet, beneath it all, Matt’s discomfort had a more personal edge. He was convinced there was something more to your friendship, despite your insistence on its platonic nature.
“Okay, sure, whatever you say,” Matt insisted, his tone dripping with frustration. “But I’m telling you, he definitely wants to fuck you.”
Matt’s reasoning included:
‱ “He never makes you pay for weed.” 
⁃ Ah, the classic move of the charming drug dealer - Robin and Steve are also lucky recipients of Eddie's personal stash. Generosity? Sure. A sign of deeper feelings? Unlikely. 
‱ “He flirts with you.”
⁃ Eddie flirts with everyone. This isn’t a private act of seduction - it’s his default setting. And sure, before you dated Matt maybe you’d indulge in Eddie’s flirty nature but it was just all in good fun. 
‱ "He call's you - Baby." 
⁃ The nickname was not some romantic gesture, Eddie's just a menace. It all started after a shift at Family Video, you and Robin went back to Steve's house. Eddie made an entrance, a blunt was passed, and you started rambling about the ridiculousness of the name "Baby" in Dirty Dancing. "You know, it's funny you hate it because 'Baby' suits you perfectly," Eddie quipped. You shot him a look of annoyance, but Eddie, with that trademark grin, decided it was a keeper and has called you it ever since. 
‱ “The way he fucking looks at you.” 
⁃ This is where the plot thickens. While the other signs are easily explained, you didn't quite see what Matt was ever referring to. 
Yet, every time Matt voiced his theories, your mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of Eddie in bed. He had quite the reputation as a good fuck and it was undeniable that he was incredibly attractive. But the guilt of entertaining these thoughts, especially while with Matt, was crushing. So, you shoved them aside.
In December of '89, Matt accepted a job that meant relocating out of state. By then, your relationship had lost its spark, of course, except for the one area where it still managed to flicker - the bedroom. You both knew it was time to let go, the idea of a long distance romance wasn't practical when the only thing holding you together required physical proximity you would no longer share.
Despite it being the obvious choice - the end of nearly two years together was tough, but as the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens. With Matt no longer in the picture, your calendar quickly filled with late nights and laughter, surrounded by Robin, Steve, Eddie, and your ever expanding social circle. It was the start of a new era, as you entered the new decade. 
"These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?"
Four months into being single, and the dry spell was becoming a cruel joke. Every date you'd been on had left much to be desired, as none of them ever ended with you on your back. Ultimately a waste of your time. 
It was an added frustration to be out with Eddie and watch him glide from one partner to the next with such ease. You even found yourself feeling a bit envious of his conquests, because the more time you began spending with him, the more you understood why Matt had his suspicions. 
On quite a few occasions, you caught Eddie's gaze lingering on you. The stolen glances and charged looks sent your heart racing. Gone were the days of pushing these thoughts away. Now, you found yourself indulging in them, late at night, hand between your thighs, wondering if the fantasies might ever become reality. 
“Don’t play dumb, I know you fantasize. You could have me on my back every night.”
One night, after having your friends over for dinner, Eddie decided to stay and chill after Robin and Steve had left. He sprawled on your couch, legs draped over the coffee table, grumbling about the monotony of his recent casual encounters and the lack of sexual chemistry he'd been experiencing.
Eddie looked at you, cutting himself off mid rant, his fingers deftly rolling a blunt. "It's cool if I smoke in here, right? Or d'ya want me to go on the balcony?" 
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't usually love it, but why not for tonight?"
With a grin, Eddie continued on his ranting as he finished rolling. Lighting the blunt and taking a long drag when he finished his complaint. 
"Okay, but bad sex is more often than not, still enjoyable," you said, in response to his last comment. 
Eddie held out the blunt offering you to take a hit and while normally you’re pretty weary to cross fade, you were feeling adventurous as you grabbed it from his fingers taking a hit. 
"I get what you're saying, but nothing's been like, mind-blowing. I was getting head the other day, and I was literally counting the minutes until it was over. I think it would've been more enjoyable if I'd just taken care of myself." 
You let out a laugh, the smoke escaping in a light cloud. "You think counting maybe prolonged the experience a bit, bud?" Passing the blunt back to Eddie. 
"No, baby, the counting's what got me there." He smirked before taking another hit. 
You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words sparked thoughts of your own dissatisfaction.
The two of you sat there listening to the soft sounds of The Cure album you had on, as you took turns with the blunt. Eddie's gaze didn't leave you, his eyes focused on your lips - the movements of your mouth. The subtle way your lips parted and closed around the blunt had him entranced. 
You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice his staring. "I think this is one of those grass is greener situations. l'd take the bad sex. There's only so much I can satisfy myself, and sometimes I- well, I just want to get railed." The words slipped out before you could fully think them through but as soon as they did, you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.
Eddie's eyes widened slightly, a blush of his own creeping onto his face as he exhaled smoke. "Oh sure." You'd always been open about discussing sex, but this was a new level of candor for you and it caught him by surprise. It also made his cock twitch.  
You weren't sure what it was - the alcohol, the pot, the adrenaline from your embarrassment, - but Eddie's complaints mixed with your own dissatisfaction sparked an idea. You set your wine glass down, turned to face him, and criss-crossed your legs on the couch.
Passing what was left of the blunt back, you asked the question that's been on your mind for weeks.
”Eddie
 are you attracted to me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.
"What?" He asked as he put the blunt out.
"Eddie," you pressed. 
He chuckled, the sound a bit shaky. "Everyone thinks you're pretty, you know that."
"That's not what I asked," you countered. "I'm asking if you think I'm like, hot - not just pretty."
A smirk played on Eddie's lips as his eyes scanned over your figure, nodding. “Yeah, you’re hot,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes linger on how the soft fabric of your clothes hugged your chest. Truth be told, he thought you were fucking heaven sent. 
"So why haven't you made a move? I've been single for months." 
"You know me, baby. No attachments. Couldn't have you falling in love with me."
You scoffed. "Really, that's your excuse?"
His gaze met yours, a touch of defensiveness in his eyes. "It's not an excuse. It's just how I am. I don't hook up with friends, it can get messy." 
"Got it," you replied, considering letting it go, but curiosity had taken hold. "Do you ever fantasize about them, though?”
A wry smile appeared on his lips. "Depends on the friend, I guess.”
"Cut the shit, Munson.”
His smile grew. "Alright, yeah. A lot more than I probably should have.”
You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "If it's any consolation, I've fantasized about you a fair bit too.”
"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his voice huskier than before.
"Mmm-hmm." You shook your head slowly, maintaining eye contact. You noticed the way Eddie's eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. 
"What about?" he asked.
"I could tell you," you whispered, "or I could show you.”
Eddie's laughter was shaky as he looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Tempting," he whispered, leaning back and trying to create some distance. His arousal, however, was unmistakable. 
The room fell silent. You could see the inner conflict in his eyes: the struggle between desire and his self imposed boundaries. The sight of Eddie's hard cock straining against his jeans had your pulse quickening more than the conversation had. You felt yourself growing wet, the heat between your thighs demanding attention.
"So even though it's clear we both want this, you're willing to just let it go because of some vague principle?" you asked, frustration tinging your voice.
Eddie's expression grew serious. "I wouldn't want to complicate our friendship just to get off.”
"And if I promised you it wouldn't complicate anything, that nothing would have to change - it would just be a good time?”
His breath hitched at your words, his eyes soaking in your presence. "Then... maybe I’d rethink some things."
You sighed, acknowledging his hesitation but also feeling the urgency of your own desire whether Eddie joined you or not.
“Well, you think about that,” you said, standing up and heading toward your bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me if you decide you’re in. If you decide to leave, the spare key is by the door. Just lock up and I’ll get it next time.” You closed the door behind you
Eddie sat on the couch contemplating for all of 5 minutes before his decision was made. Of course he wasn't going to let this moment pass him by. He stood up, his mind racing as he walked toward your room.   
When Eddie opened the door, he found you lying in bed, bathed in the amber glow of your lamp, only in your panties. You were lost in your own pleasure, hand moving beneath the fabric, eyes closed tight as breathy moans escaped your lips. 
"Fuck," Eddie muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He froze, taking in every detail. The gentle, desperate movements of your fingers, the soft sway of your breasts, and the way your lips formed an O with every soft whimper. He was mesmerized.
He moved closer, cautious not to disrupt the moment. You whispered his name, soft and needy. "Eddie..."
The sound of your voice, so vulnerable and inviting, was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that came from the very core of his being. As he stood at the end of the bed, your eyes fluttered open, taking in his presence.
You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on his face, the way his gaze was fixed on you.
Looking at you like this, made him feel as if he was witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. "What are you thinking of?" Eddie asked, needing to understand what was driving you.
"That this is your hand instead of mine, just like l've been imagining for weeks," you admitted, voice trembling slightly.
Eddie's breath hitched. "Can I see all of you?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed. 
You nodded, slowly sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You returned your hand, teasing yourself gently. Eddie's eyes were fixed on you, the sight almost too much for him to bear, a low whimper escaping his lips.
"How would you touch me, if it were your fingers?" you asked, voice a seductive whisper.
Eddie slid up from his spot on the edge of the bed, closer to your side, as he began directing you on how he would pleasure you, eyes glued to your movements. "I'd start by gently tracing my fingers, just like you are now."
You whimpered as he continued his instructions, caught between the fantasy he was describing and the reality of your own touch. His guidance was driving you wild, but the need for his direct touch was growing unbearable. Breathlessly, you said, "Eddie, please."
“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his eyes locked on yours. 
“Touch me,” you pleaded.
Eddie knew what you meant; you wanted him to replace your fingers - but he needed to kiss you and at the vague request for his touch he couldn't help but use that as his cue. He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was rough, and raw as if years of restrained longing were unleashed in that heated moment. His lips were demanding, his tongue wrestled with yours, the taste of beer mixing with moscato. You bit his lip and Eddie’s groan was deep. 
His free hand found its way to your thigh, gripping it tightly, driving you further into your own touch. The intensity of his actions only heightened your pleasure. You gasped into his mouth as your climax hit. Eddie’s grip on your thigh never letting up as you clung to him, struggling to steady yourself through your orgasm. 
As the waves began to subside, you whispered raggedly, “I need you.”
Eddie trailed his hand from your thigh to your cunt, only for you to stop his hand. “No. I need more, I need you inside of me. Now.” 
Eddie groaned at your desperate plea for him to fill you. Without a word, he began undressing. His breathing was labored as he quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. He fumbled with his jeans, eager and clumsy in his haste to free his hard cock. When he finally did, you let out an audible gasp, taking in the sight of him. He was so fucking perfect.
“How do you want it, baby?” He asked, eager to give you anything you’d ask for. 
“What have you fantasized about?”
Eddie hesitated, “We don’t have to -”
“Tell me,” you demanded. 
“You, um, you’ve got great tits,” he all about moaned. “I think about you riding me a lot.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you pushed him back to lean against the pillows, a sly smile on your lips. You reached for a condom from the nightstand, tearing open the wrapper with a quick, practiced motion, and rolled it over his throbbing cock. Eddie’s eyes followed your every move, sighing at your touch. 
With a deep, steadying breath, you positioned yourself above him. Your hands rested on the headboard while his hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in as he watched you. Slowly, you began to lower yourself, the initial contact making both of you gasp. The incredible stretch of his cock stung as you lowered yourself down inch by inch. It was almost overwhelming, but so perfectly pleasurable. Eddie’s eyes widened, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts. 
“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you just how much he wants this.
You continued to sink down, savoring the sensation of being filled. Once fully seated, you paused to adjust, getting accustomed to his size. Eddie wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but by no means was he small. Close to 7 inches if you had to guess. He was however, the thickest not by an absurd amount but enough to notice the  difference. He felt phenomenal. 
You began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. The room began filling with the sound of your mingled moans. As you established a steady rhythm, Eddie’s moans grew more frequent, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Fuuuuuck,” he repeated, his voice rough with pleasure.
You shifted from leaning forward to putting your full weight on him, arching your back slightly as you moved your hands from the headboard to behind you, resting them on his thighs. In this position, you had better control and began to increase your pace.
“Aghh - just like that,” Eddie groaned. “Show me how much you want it." Eddie’s eyes were locked on you, taking in every detail - the bounce of your breasts, the flush on your cheeks, the intense pleasure on your face. You looked stunning.
He moved his hands to your breasts, groaning as he squeezed them gently. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up, his hands moving to roam over the rest of your body as he began kissing your skin. He started at your collarbone and moved along your chest until he reached your left breast. Kissing and nipping at the soft skin before enveloping your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You shuddered at the added stimulation, moving to rest your hands on his shoulder for better stability as he moved his mouth to your right nipple. 
You were finding it hard to keep quiet, biting your lip to stifle your moans as the combination of his mouth and the fullness of his cock drove you closer to ecstasy.
Eddie, however, was having none of that. Removing his mouth from you chest, “Don’t hold back," he rasped. "Let the whole fucking building know how good it feels to have my cock inside you.”
You let yourself moan freely, the sounds echoing in the room as you quickened your pace.
"Ooooohhh god,” you cried out as your orgasm began to build. 
You swirled your hips, adding a tantalizing motion that made Eddie mumble curses of pleasure. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he reclined against the pillows. You leaned forward with him, placing your arms on his chest for support as you rode him with increased intensity.
“Such a good girl,” Eddie said in awe, his eyes locked on you as you chased your orgasm. The praise spurred you on, and you let out a loud cry. Eddie’s lips curled into a wry smile as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.
“You like that, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
You whimpered a feeble “yes,” your voice barely audible as you tried to keep up with the intense pleasure.
“Thought you might,” he chuckled. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me,” Eddie instructed.
That was all it took. Your hips began to falter as your orgasm ripped through you, sending your body into a shuddering climax. Eddie’s groans of satisfaction grew louder as he watched you come undone on top of him. He gripped your hips tightly, taking over control and thrusting into you with a fierce rhythm, pushing you seamlessly into another orgasm.
As you came down, your body collapsed against Eddie's, still trembling from the aftermath of your third orgasm. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you. Eddie, sensing your exhaustion, slowed his thrusts, his hands gently tangling in your hair as he lifted your face to look at him.
“Shit Eds” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can come again.” 
Eddie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Sure you can, baby. You haven’t even gotten what you wanted yet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before repositioning you both.
The sudden loss of him inside you made you whimper, the emptiness leaving you desperate to be filled again. Eddie lifted you, placing you on your knees, and then knelt behind you. His hands took hold of your hips, and he lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you with a forceful, deep motion. The immediate fullness made you moan, the new position allowing him to penetrate you more deeply and hit your g-spot perfectly with every thrust.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” you cried out, your voice raw with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.
“This is what you wanted, right baby? To get railed?” Eddie asked, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass as he drove into you.
“Yes!” you cried out. “Please Eddie, harder,” tears streaming down your face.  He responded by pounding into you just as you asked. 
Leaning forward, Eddie kissed the skin along your back, his teeth grazing your flesh with gentle bites, adding another layer of sensation. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white from the strain, as desperate cries of pleasure fell from your lips. His left hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it frantically.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. Eddie’s fingers worked your clit with determined precision, the added stimulation making it clear you were about to lose it.
As the pleasure built to its peak, you screamed his name, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came. Eddie’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts never faltering as he felt you clenching around him.
“There it is,” he moaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you coming undone. Your mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks, merging with your tears as you reached the height of your pleasure. Eddie continued to pound into you as your orgasm subsided, savoring the way you responded to him.
He was relentless, driven by his own need to reach his climax. He removed his hand from your clit,  gripping your hips firmly as he thrusted into you with increased force. “I want you to cum with me,” he growled.
You cried out, your voice filled with desperation. "I-I ahhh..." Your words were swallowed by your moans as Eddie kept thrusting. 
"You can do it," he encouraged, his voice low and steady. "I know you can."
Eddie's thrusts grew more intense, his rhythm never faltering as he drove you toward another climax. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breath coming in ragged bursts as he neared his release.
"Atta girl," Eddie growled. His thrusts grew sloppy, driven by the raw intensity of the moment. You clenched around him, surrendering to the pleasure as euphoria washed over you. The sensation was all consuming, a final, powerful climax that left you gasping.
Eddie's own climax hit hard. He let out a string of moans, his body shuddering as it hit. His thrusts became erratic, his grip on your ass tightening as he rode out his release.
Eddie collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow. The intensity of the night had left you feeling dizzy and euphoric, your body still tingling from multiple orgasms - five mind blowing orgasms, to be exact. The most you’d ever had with a partner before was three - and while still sensational it was nothing compared to this. Making it clear that Eddie Munson was the best fuck you’ve ever had.
As you started to come down, you glanced over at Eddie. He was staring at the ceiling, his face a mix of disbelief and deep thought. "Eddie, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
"Can I level with you?" he asked, his voice serious.
"Of course," you replied.
"It's pretty obvious that what we just had was too good to be a one-off," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "And it's not going to be easy to just go back like this never happened. I mean, I can't just pretend I don't know you've got a praise kink." He teased. 
"Eddie!" You laughed, giving him a playful nudge.
"I'm only half kidding. I clocked that shit when I tried to teach you guitar, this just confirmed it," he admitted with a grin.
You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. “So, what's your point?"
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at you seriously. “If you can handle keeping it casual, I think we should do this again.”
“Fucking hell, Munson didn't we address this on the couch? I wanted to fuck you, I'm not in love."
Eddie laughed. “Right, I know. But sometimes it can lead to that, and I just want to make sure you understand if we continue to hook up it will never be anything but physical. I can never offer you more, is that clear?" 
You grinned. “Crystal."
"So, friends with benefits?” He asked. 
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your eyes locked with his. 
"It's a Sexually Explicit Kind of Love Affair" 
Two months had passed since you and Eddie established your friends-with-benefits arrangement, and you had both adhered to a set of rules: open communication, no exclusivity, and keeping things private. Your frequent hookups had become a thrilling part of your routine, each encounter more intense than the last, and quite a few that were unforgettable. 
Fucked You in the Bathroom When We Went to Dinner:  The two of you went to dinner with your friends to celebrate Vicky’s birthday. Amid the celebrations, you and Eddie shared knowing glances across the table and when the opportunity arose, you both slipped away, heading towards the restaurant's bathroom.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Eddie's hands were on you, pulling you close. He pressed your back against the wall, as his lips found yours in a rough kiss. His mouth began trailing along your jaw as you you reached down to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's pants were down around his knees, his hands hiking your dress up, growling when he saw you had no panties on. You lifted your leg, resting it on the sink, back still pressed to the wall as Eddie wasted no time before guiding himself into you. Your hands immediately threading through his hair as he sunk in. 
Eddie's thrusts were urgent and desperate. "Fuck, can’t get enough of you," Eddie gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 
You could only respond with a series of breathless moans. The pleasure building rapidly as Eddie's movements grew more intense. His hands gripped your hips firmly,  holding you in place as he drove into you. 
Your climax was approaching quickly, and you couldn't help but let out shrieks of pleasure. Eddie's hand reluctantly coming to cover your mouth to stifle the sounds. He loved hearing you, but not here. 
“Shh, baby. I know," he whispered feeling you beginning to clench around him. You bit the palm of his hand to stop the scream that was desperate to escape you as your climax hit. His thrusts growing erratic as he came with you, burying his face in your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
As you both caught your breath, you quickly adjusted your clothes, and you fixed Eddie's hair. You walked out first heading back to the table. Eddie arrived a few minutes later, drink in his hand as if he had been at bar the whole time, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he sat down.  
Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: It'd been a lively evening out at the bar playing pool with Chrissy, Eddie and his bandmates. You were keenly aware of the effect your outfit was having on Eddie as you'd chosen a particularly short skirt that barely covered your lacy black panties if you moved too much. So each time you bent over to take a shot, your underwear was tantalizingly visible. 
As you lined up for another shot, Eddie approached, leaning in close.  To any onlookers it would seem like he was giving you a tip to make your shot. "You're such a fucking tease," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You turned your head slightly, catching his eye with a sly grin. "I know, but you love it," you whispered back. 
Eddie's gaze was fixed on you as he walked back to his spot against the wall. As you knelt over the table to take your shot, a smirk tugged at your lips knowing he was clearly struggling to focus on anything other than the view you were providing. 
If Eddie could have had his way, he would have sunk to his knees right there and ate you out while you were bent over that pool table. But patience is a virtue. 
As you turned to face him after landing your shot, you knew he was trying to maintain his composure.
When it was time to leave, Eddie offered to take you home.  "Chris, I’ve got her. I pass her apartment on my way home anyway.” While that was true, you knew that wasn't his plan.
As you walked out, Eddie's eyes never left you, his gaze focused on the way your hips swayed with each step. When you reached the van, he opened the passenger door for you and you slid into the seat, feeling his intense gaze on you. 
As you settled in your seat, you looked at Eddie who was still standing next to you. A sly grin pulling at his lips, as he stepped in. You were confused until he knelt down on the floor in front of you, shutting the door. His expression one of eagerness.
With his hands now gripping your thighs, he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against your skin. "I've been wanting to taste you all fucking night," he hummed, his voice low and filled with need. 
You looked down at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. "Aw look at you, did I tease you so much that you can't even wait?"
Eddie’s big doe eyes, looked a lot less innocent in this position, darkening at your words. Hunger written all over his face. 
In an instant he pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward so his head was nestled between your thighs. His tongue making contact with your bare slit, with a tantalizing slow lick. You gasped at the feeling. Eddie moaned against your pussy, "You taste so goddamn good,” his voice vibrating through your core. 
The moment his tongue touched your clit, he was relentless, alternating between licking and sucking. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he savored you. 
Within just a few short minutes you were a moaning mess, hands tangled in his hair, breath ragged, eyes screwed tight as you could feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm. Then suddenly, Eddie pulled away. Your release immediately ripped away from you. 
His face flushed and glistening with your essence, looked up at you with a smirk. “Look at that, I can be just as much of a tease as you," he rasped.
You whined at the loss of contact. "Please, Eddie.” 
“You’ll have to wait, baby.” He said, readjusting your underwear and skirt, wiping his mouth as he dipped out of the van and walked to the drivers side.
Truth be told, this was just as upsetting for him as it was for you. You were intoxicating and if he was being honest he’d love nothing more than to continue to devour your sweet cunt until you came all over his tongue - multiple times. But he thought it only fair that you feel the same strain that he had all night. He’d make it worth the wait when he got you to his trailer. 
You're on your knees, I'm on the case: You had the day off, so what better way than to spend it in Eddie's bed. When you arrived at his trailer, he answered the door shirtless, wearing only boxers with a towel draped over his shoulder.
"I'm about to shower," Eddie said, ushering you inside and closing the door behind you. "I'll be out soon. Feel free to watch TV, the remote's on the table."
As Eddie went to shower, you settled on his couch, finishing up the episode of Seinfeld that was on. After about ten minutes, you began to get restless.
You could hear the shower running, steam cascading into the hall because Eddie didn't shut the door completely. You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door to let him know you were there as you walked in. 
"Be out in a second, just gotta rinse my hair."
"Mind if I join ya instead?" 
There was a brief pause before he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure, come on in."
You quickly undressed and slipped into the shower the steam enveloping you. You were facing Eddie as the water was cascading down his hair. Some droplets hitting your body, as Eddie glanced over you with a grin. 
You gave him a playful smirk before immediately dropping to your knees, positioning yourself in front of his hardening cock. Eddie's eyes locked onto you, filled with anticipation.
Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of your breath. Eddie's response was immediate. His breath hitched, at the feeling. "Ahhh," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure. 
You began to move, sliding your lips up and down his length with practiced ease. Eddie's hands gripped the shower bar for support, his fingers tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Holy Shit," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're so good, that feels so fucking good." 
You continued your rhythm, your mouth and tongue working him expertly. Eddie's groans grew louder, the pleasure clearly overwhelming him. "Oh god, yes," he panted, his hips thrusting gently to match your movements. 
The water continued to cascade around you both, mingling with the sounds of Eddie's pleasure as you pushed him closer to the edge. "Don't stop, baby" he urged, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna cum."
With a final, deep stroke, Eddie came hard. You kept your mouth on him, sucking every drop as he moaned and gasped, his hands gripping the shower wall for dear life bracing himself.
His face was flushed, a mix of steam and sweat glistening on his skin. He looked down at you with awe and satisfaction. "You're fucking amazing," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
You stood up, and Eddie cupped your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As your mouths moved together ,his cock began hardening again, ready for round two in his room.
"I know, "Baby, No Attachment!"
As the months passed the frequency of your encounters with Eddie had evolved beyond merely getting off. At first you considered that it was just your friendship deepening, but as time went on, you couldn't help but feel that these interactions between you were teetering the line of something more. 
Eddie's band practices had effortlessly blended into your weekly routine. “Want to come to practice again?” he’d ask, flashing a grin. The first time he invited you, you joked about whether he had a fantasy of hooking up in Gareth’s garage or something. Eddie only laughed and said, “Nah, I just figured you might enjoy hearing us play and I thought it’d be nice to have you there.” Of course you went, and enjoyed every second of it, maybe even more than the shows. Seeing Eddie perform offstage, goof around with his bandmates, and brainstorm new arrangements was incredibly fun to witness.
By the third week into attending practice, Eddie offered another invitation. “Want to come with me to visit Wayne this Sunday?” he asked one afternoon. You hadn’t seen Wayne since he left Eddie the trailer, and although the invite surprised you, you agreed. Wayne’s warm hospitality was a delight, and seeing Eddie with his uncle gave you a new insight into his life - it felt special that he shared it with you. 
You began noticing more changes in your own habits. Instead of going to social events alone, you often opted to ride with Eddie. Your weekend hookups had bloomed into near everyday occurrences, leading you to spend a lot more time at his trailer, as it offered much more privacy than your apartment - Eddie and you were rather loud. Eddie's loud anyway, but when he's inside you he doesn't shut up. Always talking you through it, telling you how good you're making him feel and he loves hearing what he does to you, so you never hold back. 
On more than a few occasions you’d accidentally fallen asleep over there, and eventually Eddie just began inviting you to stay the night in the first place. Gradually, your personal items like a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes, and your favorite books made their way over. You were there so often that it was shifting from a convenient arrangement to something that felt more like a shared space.
The boundaries you’d set were being tested, and it was becoming harder to maintain the pretense that this was purely physical. The line between attraction and emotional connection was blurring, and although Eddie had always insisted that this arrangement was meant to stay casual, his actions seemed to contradict that. In those soft moments with him, at practice or Wayne's, or when you were lying in his bed wrapped up in his arms after another incredible fuck, you found yourself dreaming of more and every time you did you'd think back to Matt's insistence that there was something between you and Eddie. Back then you thought it was Matt's jealously, eventually giving way that it was underlying attraction but now like this you can't help but think maybe there has always been more simmering between you both. 
You didn't dare say it though, you wanted to remain the “chill girl” who didn’t push. But the more time that passed the more you felt caught between holding your tongue and addressing the growing complexity of the situation.  
"It's fine, it's cool, you can say that we're nothing but you know the truth." 
The summer heat was beginning to wane as you and Eddie arrived at Steve’s Labor Day party. 
You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Nancy when you overheard a conversation nearby. Eddie was talking to Chrissy, who had just referred to you and he as a couple. 
“Oh, no, we’re not together,” Eddie said, a dismissive edge in his voice as he responded. The words hit you like a slap. You knew what you had signed up for, but it still stung, especially when the lines had been blurring for months. 
You attempted to shake it off, focusing on the friends around you. However, as the evening wore on, the frustration you felt was hard to ignore. Eddie’s behavior had been increasingly confusing. And this comment felt like the final straw - if your friends could see it, why couldn't he? 
When the party ended, Eddie drove you back to his trailer with Metallica blasting through the speakers. The music did little to ease the anger you were feeling. 
Once inside the trailer, Eddie reached out his hands gripping your waist, as his lips found yours. The kiss felt good, almost intoxicating, but your anger quickly reclaimed its hold as the words "we're not together" echoed in your mind.
You pulled back, needing a moment to regain your composure. Eddie’s eyes searched yours, confusion in his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly.
"I'm not really feeling it right now,” you said firmly, pulling away from his touch. "I think I'm going to head home actually." 
Eddie’s face fell for a moment before a small smile played at his lips. "You don't need to go, stay the night. We can watch a movie."
A few months ago, this invitation would have felt like a friendly gesture. After all, the beauty of a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement is that it starts with a foundation of friendship. But tonight it was just a bitter reminder of how these nights have morphed into something much more complex. At the start of your arrangement, movie nights often transitioned from watching the film to fucking until the credits rolled. This felt natural, expected. But now the dynamic of movie nights has grown significantly more intimate; cuddling on the couch, Eddie softly playing with your hair, and gentle kisses between scenes. All gestures that are only typical in, well - relationships. You've had enough. 
"Eddie, are you being avoidant or are you truly oblivious to what's going on?" 
Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?"
"Us. This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "It feels different, and it has for a while now." You took a deep breath, struggling to steady your voice. "Eddie, even our friends notice it."
"This is about Chrissy's comment?" he asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.
"You were so quick to dismiss it."
"We're not a couple, so that probably has something to do with it," he said, with a laugh. "What was I supposed to say?"
You gave him a short nod, as you began to gather your things. "It's not even about what you said, it's about what you're not saying." 
The frustration was evident on Eddie's face. "I thought we were both on the same page about this," he said, following you.
"Dammit, Eddie," you turned towards him, your voice rising. "We were, but it’s hard to feel like we’re still casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser!"
Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he still held his ground. "From the start, I told you I don’t do relationships. I never promised you anything more than what we agreed on."
You scoffed. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long. But you’ve pulled me into every aspect of your life, and it’s not the same anymore. If you weren’t so hung up on that concept, maybe you’d admit what you’re feeling.”
“Don’t," he said sternly. "Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy because you couldn't keep your own feelings in check.”
His words felt like a punch in your gut. You could feel the lump take perch in your throat, trying to swallow it back but the tears were coming. 
Eddie’s expression softened as he noticed your your eyes glistening. He watched helplessly as you continued to pack, his frustration morphing into anguish as tears streamed down your face.
"Wait,” he pleaded. "Let's talk, we can take a step back."
Your hands shook as you stuffed your clothes into your bag, sobs coming in ragged, painful gasps. “A step? We'd have to take twenty," you choked out, your voice breaking. 
Eddie looked away, struggling to reconcile your pain with his own fears. "I just, I'm sorry I confused you. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea."
"Maybe you didn't intend for things to change, but they did. We both let them. I did because I liked it, why did you Eddie?" 
His stomach twisted at that.
 “Every rule we set, you broke," you continued, bitterness lacing your voice. "It was all ‘let’s keep it discreet’ until you kissed me between songs at practice. What the fuck was that?! ‘We need open communication,’ but you never talked about any line we crossed." Your voice rose despite your sobs. "For fucks's sake Eddie, we haven't been exclusive yet for six months, you’ve called after me! Going as far as turning down others because you want me in your bed. Whether we fuck or we don't."
Eddie stood still, motionless, as the weight of your words sunk in.
"You can try to downplay this all you want, but deep down you know. And it's why your past hookups could never satisfy you the way I do.” Tears streamed down your face as you glared at Eddie.
The silence grew heavy between you as Eddie struggled to find a response.
"I don't know what you want me to say. I can’t just flip a switch and become something I’m not. I made my stance clear from the beginning," his voice wavering as he spoke. 
You shook your head in disappointment. "Got it." Your tears fell harder, and Eddie’s own eyes were on the verge of tears as he watched you zip up your bag.
“Baby,” he started, his voice trembling as he reached out a hand towards you. 
“Don’t, Eddie,” you scolded, your voice a harsh whisper. “You don't wanna call it love, fine. But it's done." 
Eddie’s face twisted in confusion and frustration as you finished speaking. He seemed to get only a fraction of what you were saying. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We'll just go back to how it was before. I mean, we can just forget about all this..." 
"You're not getting it, Eds" you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. "I can’t be your friend.” 
Eddie’s face contorted with panic. "No, don’t say that," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I’m sorry I led you on. We can go back - just like it was. We can fix this." Tears welling up as he tries to grasp what you're saying. 
"Eddie, it wasn't just that. This whole thing between us has made me realize that maybe
 maybe I had feelings for you long before we hooked up."
Eddie's face pales, his panic escalating as he struggles to process what you've just admitted. "What the fuck is happening right now?" he says, his voice rising in distress. He collapses onto the couch, his body shaking as the gravity of the situation hits him full force.
"Before we, before this, you said you didn't," he mutters, almost to himself, as he tries to reconcile your words with his memories. 
"I didn’t realize it then," you admit, your voice breaking. 
Eddie’s face was wet with his own tears now, his hands trembling as he held his face, listening to you explain.  
"I never would’ve let anyone else call me a nickname I hated. Anyone else’s persistence would’ve been stopped but it just sounded so pretty coming from your mouth..." Your voice was choked with emotion. “And I think being honest with myself about that, along with everything we’ve been doing... I've realized that maybe I was  being a fool to think it was ever just attraction."
Eddie breaks down, his tears flowing freely. "Goddammit" he chokes out, his voice thick with regret.  “I can't-"
You cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "I know Eds, you've made it clear," your voiced cracked, sobs breaking through the words. "You were right to worry this would get messy, I'm sorry I told you I could handle it." You took a deep breath and looked at him one last time, the ache in your chest almost unbearable. You slung your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door.  "I'd probably do it again though."
"I don't want to lose you,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper as he tried to hold back his emotions.
Your heart broke at his words but you knew this was the choice you had to make, even if it wasn't what you wanted.
"I have to go," you said as you turned and walked out of the trailer.
“You just need a better life than this / You need somethin' I can never give”
Eddie’s tears fell uncontrollably as you left.  Watching you walk away was like a rift tearing through time and space, an unbearable ache that pierced his soul. 
His mind spiraled in a loop, like a broken record that kept repeating the same line: It was a mistake. He knew better, he knew better than to get involved with you, but he had, and now you were gone. Eddie had wanted to believe that you could handle something casual, he risked it because he had an insatiable hunger that only you had satiated. His own denial ran so deep he hadn’t even fully accepted the magnitude of what was happening between the two of you until your words hit him like a freight train tonight. But as Eddie sat there, drenched in regret, his mind wandered to all things you. 
Eddie had always been branded the freak for being a little outside the box, and while he stayed true to himself it was always a bit toned down when he met new people. However when he met you, he knew he didn't have to do that.  While you could fit neatly into the box, you didn't care to. Eddie was instantly captivated by you, and it wasn't just because you were stunning - it was your wit, and charm that pulled him in. 
He could never forget the first day he realized he wanted to kiss you. It was one of the early times you hung out - that night you were complaining about "Dirty Dancing." You just kept rambling - so comically irritated, he found it hilarious and he wanted to just shut you up with his lips. He couldn't help himself coining, "Baby" for you. It had felt right rolling off his tongue, and even though you shot him an annoyed look, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile. Eddie then proceeded to try and get you to reenact the lift scene from the movie, but you refused with a firm “Fuck no, Munson.” Robin wouldn't either, but Steve, high as a kite, agreed. Of course it ended with them flat on the floor and the four of you laughing your asses off. For whatever reason that night marked a turning point for your friendship - the two of you began spending time together outside of your shared circle. It was always a little touchy, a little flirty and Eddie was constantly having to push the urge to kiss you outside of his mind. 
Steve was always trying to persuade Eddie to just go for it, but Eddie wasn’t interested. He typically only hooked up with the same person three times - if ever more than once. He feared that if he ever got involved with you he wouldn’t be able to go back, and commitment was something he wasn't into. Fast forward three years and nothing's changed. Still, one night around two years ago he nearly let his guard down. 
A group of you had gathered at a nearby bar before Corroded Coffin’s first paid show at The Hideout.
“Let me buy a round for you guys, a little liquid courage before tonight!" you insisted. Gareth joked that it wasn't necessary when they had Eddie's good luck charm - You. “Is that why you keep me around, Munson?” you teased, planting a playful kiss on his cheek. “For a little extra luck,” you said with a wink and a smile before heading to the bar. In that moment, Eddie was certain he had to kiss you. 
When you returned with a round of tequila shots, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright, you explained that the handsome guy at the bar; Matt - asked you out and then proceeded to buy the round of shots for you when you'd said yes.
As Jeff raised his shot and toasted, "To Matt!" Eddie looked at you, realizing that it was better this way. It would have been foolish to kiss you. You deserved someone who could offer you more. 
Eddie’s mind whirled, jumping from that almost kiss to the fateful night on your couch. He should've went home because from that moment everything changed. You were sensational, the way your body responded to him, the way you sounded, the way you made him feel. He was right to know himself, that after a taste, he would never want to go without. He was selfish for this.
The past 6 months together Eddie had recognized little shifts, but he'd ignored them. Looking back it was probably June when things first began to change from the raw thrill of a good time to something that hinted at a little more intimacy. Your presence had turned his bed into a sacred oasis, where he felt truly seen and understood. The laughter, the warmth, the touch - it was all part of a connection he cherished. Yet, every time it felt like it was too much, he would push it out his head, trying to drown out the truth that he felt something more. Even if he wanted to risk all for you, he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough to make you his.
This painful realization was a truth he had to face. His fear of inadequacy and his belief that he couldn’t sustain a meaningful relationship had driven a wedge between you. And now, with you gone, he was left grappling with the reality that he had pushed away the one person who had made him question his own defenses. Sitting on his couch, a headache pounding from his tears, he tried to sleep, searching for some sort of peace.
In the weeks that followed, Eddie rarely visited his bedroom. It was a space tainted by your absence. His home felt hollow, so he picked up extra shifts at the diner, and crashed at Gareth’s when he could. He thought about reaching out to you, admitting you were right, that he loved you too, but he knew it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. He still couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not when he didn’t believe he was enough.
You deserved the best, and Eddie was convinced he wasn't that - he was stil a pot dealer, bussing tables to make ends meet and for some free food, just dreaming of a future with his band. How could he be the right person for you when he didn't have much to offer.
Eddie had been so absorbed in the band that he had drifted from the usual social circle. The only time he’d seen Steve and Robin since your departure was after one of his show the last weekend in September. They had approached him, and Eddie, looking weary and regretful, had apologized for not being around much. He wanted desperately to ask about you - God, he did - but he struggled to find the right words.
When Steve and Robin happened to mention they hadn’t heard from you either, Eddie’s heart sank. You were probably avoiding them, likely to keep from running into him. Steve, with a knowing look, asked if the two of you had gotten involved. Eddie gave a brief, vague answer that painted a picture of your arrangement without exposing too much. 
“Maybe try reaching out to her though," he suggested. 
 Robin nodded solemnly. “Of course,” she replied, understanding the complexity of the situation without needing more.
The days blurred into weeks as Eddie threw himself into his band, trying to escape the gnawing emptiness and the haunting memory of you. Each gig was an escape, but it never lasted. The real struggle was coming back to an empty space, a home without the one person who had made everything feel right. 
“Back when we were still changin' for the better / Wanting was enough / For me, it was enough" 
It was the kind of night that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head, except you weren’t in bed. You were behind the wheel of your car, heading home after leaving the man that you loved. 
As the tears flowed freely, your mind drifted to the most serious relationships you’d had; you college boyfriend, your relationship with Matt - both seemed like mere practice compared to what you shared with Eddie. He wasn’t just the best fuck you’d ever had, he was the best person you’d ever known. The thought of never being around him again was agonizing.
Returning to your apartment felt like a warm welcome from an old friend. You had spent nearly all of August entwined in Eddie’s bedsheets, living for the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together. You uncorked a fresh bottle of Riesling, not even bothering with a glass as you tried to drown out the fact that Eddie was never truly yours.
Weeks after leaving Eddie, the silence was deafening. The ache of not hearing from him, of not knowing how he was, ate at you incessantly. You knew that this was your choice, yet you'd expected some sign - any sign - that he was still there, still thinking of you.
You threw yourself into work, hoping that staying busy would numb the pain. But this came at a price - you isolated yourself from your friends, avoided their calls, and shut yourself off from the world that might remind you of Eddie.
When Robin buzzed your intercom one evening, her arrival was a welcome disruption to your self-imposed exile. She stood at your door with pizza and ice cream in hand, a silent understanding in her eyes.
"Hey," she said softly, a warm smile breaking through her concern. "I thought you could use some company."
You invited her in, your heart heavy as you tried to muster a smile. You sat in your living room, as you finally let your emotions spill out. 
Between sobs, you managed to ask, "How is he?"
Robin took a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He hasn't been around either, but Steve and I saw him last weekend, he's been busy with the band. They're doing really well - they’re working hard to catch the eye of an A&R rep to help develop them. When we told him we hadn’t heard from you, he briefly explained why that might be, and not that I wouldn't have anyway - but he was one that suggested this." 
He had thought of you. That was enough to make you break down again. Robin wrapped her arms around you.
“It’s okay," she whispered.
Robin comforted you the rest of the night. Reassuring you that in time it will get better. As Robin was on her way out you told her that while you missed everyone it was just too hard right now, and you needed more time. 
She nodded, understanding. "We’ll be here whenever you’re ready."
As she left, you felt hope amidst the sadness. But even with that hope, you found it difficult to move forward. You almost mustered the courage to attend Jonathan and Nancy’s Halloween party, but after getting dressed, you couldn’t bring yourself to go. A week later, you had plans for lunch with Steve and Chrissy but the nausea of confronting your emotions kept you from following through. It was still too soon to be around the people who reminded you of Eddie, so you stayed away, in your cocoon of sorrow, hoping that someday the pain would ease enough to allow you to step back into your life.
“And from the outside / It looks like you're tryin' lives on / I miss the old ways / You didn't have to change/ But I guess I don't have a say / Now that we don't talk"
It was the second week of November, and you’d decided to go out for drinks with some colleagues. You were at a bar you’d never been to before, located on the other side of town - quite far from the usual spots you and your friends frequented. With the slim chance of running into anyone you knew, you let your guard down and enjoyed the evening. 
You were so engrossed in your conversation that you almost missed it. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but then you heard it again. Your stomach dropped, and a wave of heat washed over you as you recognized Eddie’s unmistakable voice. Looking around, it was Gareth you spotted first, and as you looked for Eddie, your heart sank. He looked drastically different - his once long hair was now a buzz cut, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, while dressed in a navy striped button-down. His signature leather jacket draped over the back of his chair the only remnant of the man you remembered.
Despite your attempts to refocus on your colleagues, your attention kept drifting back to Eddie and the band. They were celebrating with a round of shots, and you wondered if they were marking a milestone. Since the round of drinks you’d suggested for their first paid gig, you knew they had a tradition of celebrating this way. Your heart sank as you overheard Eddie’s toast: the local station had agreed to start playing their music, and they were promised a small tour around neighboring states in the new year.
Watching the band’s journey over the past three years -  early gigs at house shows to paid gigs at dive bars - you knew you had to say something, not just to Eddie but to all of them. You were proud of their progress, and after witnessing their hard work at countless practices this year, it felt right to acknowledge their accomplishments. You couldn't deny that it almost felt kismet, that you were here tonight.
As your coworkers began wrapping up their night, you excused yourself. You made your way over to the band’s table, your heart racing. As you approached their table, Gareth’s eyes lit up as he saw you.
“Well, look who it is!” Gareth exclaimed.
Eddie turned, his smile dropped as he took in your presence. 
“Of all the gin joints, you walk into the one I’m in?” you joked, attempting to ease the awkwardness. The band chuckled, and you continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. I just wanted to come over and say congratulations. I know how hard you’ve all worked."
The band echoed their gratitude before Gareth suggested you join them. A sudden, overwhelming discomfort gripped you. This was a mistake. Every lingering feeling you had for Eddie rushed back, and you struggled to maintain composure. "Oh thank you, but I need to get home," you said, attempting to mask the unease. "But I'm really happy for you all."
As you started to walk away, Eddie rose from his seat. "Baby, wait," he called out.
There it was, the nickname only he called you. The one you'd been desperate to hear.
You stopped, turning slightly to face him as he reached you. "I, um, just wanted to say thanks for that. I really appreciated you coming to the table."
"Of course," you said softly.
His eyes roamed over your figure as he took in the way your dress fit, and a low, almost involuntary groan escaped him. "Wow, that dress, you... you look incredible."
You gave him a thankful nod. It hurt you to hear him say that, knowing you'd bought this dress months ago solely with the intention of him taking it off.
"Me? Look at you. You look so... I don't know. Refined, maybe?"
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or...?"
"Oh, y'know you always look good," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I'd be lying if I said the hair didn't shock me a bit at first," you admitted.
Eddie's eyes softened, and he responded with a chuckle. "It's weird for me, still. I haven't had a buzz cut since middle school. But I just needed... a change."
His words hit you harder than expected, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as shook your head in acknowledgement.
He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I want you to know I thought about reaching out, but I wasn't sure..." he trailed off.
You nodded again, appreciating the sentiment, a small smile on your lips as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I really should go, but I am truly so proud of you, Eddie," you said, your voice wavering. "Ever since I met you, I've seen how hard you've worked for what you want, and I'm so happy that it's paying off."
The words seemed to break something in him. Instinctively, he reached out, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I've missed you," he breathed into your hair.
You hugged him tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I've missed you too," you whispered back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, and you wished you could stay there forever. But as much as you wanted to linger, you knew you had to go. You slowly pulled away, forcing a smile through the tears. "I'm really glad I got to see you," you said softly.
Eddie looked at you, his gaze lingering as if he were on the verge of saying something more, but he simply nodded. "Me too," he said quietly.
“And I’d give up forever to touch you / ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow / you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be / and I don’t want to go home right now”
The ride home felt like déjà vu. Another teary-eyed drive to your apartment after walking away from the man you loved.
Once you were home, you sank into the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, tears streamed down your face as The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album played on the record player. For the 17th of November, the weather was a bit of a mess. It honestly felt poetic, the thunderstorm mirroring the emotions you were feeling. Every crack of thunder echoed your sobs.
About an hour into your pity party, you were starting to regain some composure when the buzz of the intercom startled you. You figured it was your neighbor, who often used the wrong buzzer, so you hit the button to let them in. Just as you were about to lay back in your spot on the couch, you heard a knock at your apartment door. Curious and a bit irritated, you peered through the peephole and froze. It was Eddie, drenched from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. Your heart raced as you swung the door open, and he walked in, shutting the door behind him.
"Eddie, what-" Before you could utter another word, he started rambling.
“What are the fucking odds you’d be at that bar tonight?” he began, his voice breaking. “On a night that was supposed to be a highlight in my life, and all I wanted was to share it with you.” His words came out in fractured gasps, his tears mixing with the rain on his face.
“When you said I fought for everything I wanted, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest because... it’s a lie. it's a fucking lie when I let you leave.” His voice cracked, and he struggled to steady himself.
“I should’ve told you this at the bar,” he choked, his tears falling harder now. “It felt like fucking fate that you were there tonight, and I still let you walk away. Again! I'm so sorry for the way things turned out. I should've fought for us. I should've fought for you. I let you go because I couldn’t admit I loved you. Even though you knew - of course fucking you knew - because you see me, all of me. And you’ve loved me through it, even when I didn’t think it was possible.” He buried his face in his hands, wiping his tears and catching his breath.
“I was convinced I wasn’t enough for you,” he continued. “But you wanted me all the same. I’m so sorry that I didn't call you weeks ago. I’m sorry for being so scared that I'm not what you deserve, that I let you walk out of my life because every day without you has been fucking hell.” His breaths came in jagged, broken waves. “I thought I could move on, try to forget it, but the goddamn world would have to stop before I could ever stop feeling this for you... It’s always been you.”
“Eddie,” you breathed.
Eddie stepped forward, his hands cupping your face. “I'm still not sure if I'm the man you deserve, but I'd like to try if you’ll have me.”
You nodded at his words, tears streaming down your face. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that began tenderly but quickly deepened, fueled by a desperate need to reconnect and erase the distance that had come between you. Your moans mingled as your tongues met, and Eddie's hands tangled in your hair. When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, you rested your foreheads together.
“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered.
“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead.
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