#alright that's all the tags i'm bothering with

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 11

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 10

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, tobacco/alcohol references, vomit, illness, anxiety, intense anger, crying, arguing, meltdown, parental issues/resentment, mentions of death, angst, teasing, smut, handjob, intimate kissing, sexual frustration

Word Count: 15.1k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 11.1: Here Comes The Rain Again

Saturday, April 8th, 1989

You wake up the next morning, head absolutely pounding. You groan at the sun shining in through the window, rolling over to snuggle against Eddie. But you realize he's not lying next to you. You hear him outside of the van and the back door is sitting open. "Eds?" You call him, realizing you're hearing him make some strange noises. You crawl over to the door, and see Eddie vomiting onto the ground. "Oh, baby." You coo sympathetically, hopping out to help him. You walk over, putting a comforting hand on his back as he's bent over. He would speak, but his stomach has other ideas. He throws up again, violently painting the ground with the wine and sandwich he had last night. He's trembling, coated in sweat as he's standing in his underwear. "It's alright, let it out. I'm right here." You try your best to soothe him, there's not much else that can be done until he stops puking.

He finishes a couple minutes later, turning to lean against the side of the van. He's very pale, looking like he might pass out. He smiles weakly at you, wiping his mouth. "Sorry, angel. I can't imagine that's very attractive to look at. It seems whatever Wayne's got has passed on to me. I feel like absolute death right now."

"You sure you're not just hung over? We did get pretty drunk." You step closer to him, pressing your lips to his forehead. He's burning up, definitely not a hangover. "You've got a fever, Eddie. We gotta get you home and into bed, okay?"

"’Kay, I think you're gonna have to drive though. I'm seeing two of you right now, so that can't be good." He chuckles wryly, trying to steady his dizzied head.

"Oh, Eds." You tut at him, helping him sit down in the open doorway for a moment while you gather his clothes. You hardly think you can take him home only in his boxers, you doubt Wayne would like to see that. You grab his pants, shimmying them onto his trembling legs. You don't bother with the shoes, but you help him put his shirt back on, doing up most of the buttons. Eddie abruptly pushes you backwards, which you find odd. That is, until you see him bend over to throw up again. You let him be, shimmying back into your dress and slipping your heels off. You also sort out the mess of items you hastily bundled up in the plaid blanket last night. You don't want anything to get broken while you drive him home.

"God, I swear my stomach is turning inside out." Eddie whimpers, and your heart sinks. You hate to see him like this, you wish you could make it all go away. But, he's been there for you when you've been sick, and now it's your turn to take care of him.

"I know, love. Let's get you in the van, okay?" You say softly. He nods, and you sling his arm over your shoulder and walk him to the passenger side. It's a bit difficult, you're not used to carrying his weight like this. You soldier on, for his sake. You open the door and he slides into the seat, slumping miserably against the worn leather. You close the door, quickly going to the driver's side. You hop in, pulling your door shut. You turn the key to start up the engine, when you realize you've never driven such a big vehicle before. Hell, you've barely driven your mom's car since she uses it for work.

"You okay, angel?" Eddie asks, noticing your uncertainty. You meet his gaze, nodding quickly.

"Yeah, I've just never driven something so big before. But I gotta get you home, so now is as good a time as ever to learn I guess." You sigh, before continuing. "You might wanna put your seatbelt on." He does as you ask, wincing with every move. His muscles ache terribly, and he can't stop shaking.

"Just please don't get us killed, that's all I ask. Although, the plague currently ravaging my goddamn insides might do that anyways." He groans, clutching his stomach helplessly. He rolls down the window in case he needs to throw up again. He's pretty sure your driving won't help the situation.

"I won't. Okay...here we go." You shift gears, looking as best you can behind you as you reverse onto the gravel road. You press your stocking-clad foot to the gas, you've never driven without shoes before, either. You manage to pull it off, so far so good. You put it in drive, taking things slow as you roll down the path to make your way to the trailer park. You would try to talk to Eddie like you always do on your drives. Given his current state, and your uneasiness behind the wheel, it's probably best to keep things quiet. You feel Eddie's clammy hand on your thigh, throwing him a quick glance.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sure this isn't how you expected the morning to go. I had so much more I wanted to do with you today." His eyes are so sad, he's practically in tears in his illness-induced delirium. He feels awful for ruining the remainder of your anniversary, and he plans to make it up to you any way he can.

"Baby, it's okay. It's not your fault. You can't control when you're sick. We can do everything you want and more once you're better. But right now, all I want is to get you tucked into bed and take care of you." Your hand briefly leaves the steering wheel to lay over his. This proves to be a mistake, though, as you swerve a little bit on the road. "Shit." You grab full hold of it again, and Eddie lunges to the right to put his head out the window to vomit. "Sorry, that was stupid of me." You wince, the sound of his stomach emptying itself is doing nothing for your hangover. You hold back a gag, keeping yourself together until you can get him home.

You're hoping you don't get whatever Eddie has. You've got finals this week and you can't afford to miss them. Besides a splitting headache and post-drunk queasiness, you feel absolutely fine. You don't usually get sick. Whenever the flu or colds spread through school or home, they almost always skip over you. Or, at worst you'll feel a bit oogy for a day or two. Eddie spits the remaining bile from his mouth, wiping it with the back of his hand. "Fuck, I really hope you don't get this. I'm also sorry for potentially infecting you." He slouches in his seat again, keeping his eyes shut as the trees passing by are making him even more dizzy. Every bump and turn on the road isn't exactly helping either.

"I'll be okay either way, Eddie. Don't worry about that right now." You reassure him, focusing on the road ahead. A little bit later, you pull up to his trailer. You hop out, running to his door to help him. There's some vomit on the handle, but you can't be bothered to care about that. You just quickly pull the door open, assisting Eddie to make your way inside. He shivers uncontrollably, to him it's like the world is made of ice. You walk up the steps and in through the front door, finding Wayne laid up on the couch watching TV. He notices you struggling to walk with Eddie leaning against you, getting up to help.

"What happened?" He asks as worry laces his voice. He can pretty much guess what’s going on, due to the greenish hue of his nephew’s face.

"He's very sick, Wayne. Woke up to him puking his guts out a little bit ago." You explain, letting him assist you to lead your poor boyfriend to bed.

"Ugh, please don't say 'puke'." Eddie groans, the mere mention of such a thing makes him want to ralph. His eyes widen, realizing it's going to happen again. "Bathroom. Now." He whimpers, and you two quickly get him there just in time. You're surprised there's still something in him to be let out, but he sure seems to be unleashing absolute hell in the toilet. Which reminds you, you're not exactly doing so hot after drinking heavily last night. You push past Wayne, running down the hall to the kitchen. He calls after you, wondering if you're alright. But you can't speak, the only thing coming out of your mouth right now is last night's dinner. You locate the trash can, dropping to your knees as your own stomach rejects its contents. You hear footsteps coming towards you, heavier than Eddie's. Wayne kneels beside you, stroking your back.

"You gonna be alright, kiddo?" He asks, thankful he's passed on from the vomit stage of his illness. He hates to see you two in such a state, he knows you had plans to spend a romantic night and next day together. He mentally curses his dumbass coworker, Kevin, who spread his fuckin' pestilence through the whole damn plant. Everyone has been out at least once this week, and some have even ended up in the ER from being so ill. And now he's given it to Eddie, and possibly you, too.

"I'm alright. I had too much to drink last night, I'm fine otherwise. But Eddie’s in pretty bad shape." You reply once you've finished, sitting back against the kitchen cabinets. You feel a little better now, actually. However, a glass of water and some Tylenol certainly wouldn’t hurt.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright. Mostly." He chuckles, helping you stand. He gets a couple glasses from the cabinet, filling them with water from the tap. He also retrieves a bottle of aspirin for you, setting one glass along with the pills beside you. "Here, I figure that'll help. I'll warn ya, it might taste a bit metallic. It won't hurt ya, I drink the stuff just fine."

"Thanks, Wayne." You happily accept the water, popping a couple pills into your mouth before chugging the whole glass.

"You wanna take this to him? I think he’d prefer you over me." He hands you the other cup, and you nod as you take it in your grasp. You walk back down the hall, finding Eddie laying in the fetal position on the tile floor. He's whining helplessly, squirming like an electrified worm.

You sit down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes, looking at you hopelessly. "Baby, let me help you sit up, okay?" Eddie nods through his tremors, letting you position him upright against the bathtub. You bring the glass to his lips, holding it for him so he doesn't spill. "Open, you need to hydrate." You kindly instruct. He listens, apprehensively allowing you to tip the glass so a little water flows into his mouth. He swallows, the cool liquid refreshing his senses. You set the glass down, not wanting to give him too much at once. "Let's get you to bed."

"Okay." Eddie answers weakly, putting his arm around your shoulder once more. You manage to get him to his room, sitting him on the edge of the bed. You go back to the other room to retrieve his water, setting it on the bedside table. You help him out of his clothes, finding some clean underwear and pajamas to dress him in instead. You notice vomit in his nice shirt, and make a note to do a load of laundry for him while you're here.

You hear the phone ring in the living room, and Wayne picks up. After a moment, he calls to you. "Y/N, it's your mother callin'."

"Stay right here, baby. I'll be right back." You give Eddie a kiss on the cheek, leaving once more, closing the door behind you. You jog down the hall, taking the phone from Wayne's hand. "Thanks." You say to him briefly, putting the phone to your ear. "Hey, Mom."

"Sugarpuff, are you alright? I know you were spending the night with Eddie, but I just wanted to check in." She sounds worried again, like something else might be going on.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Well, Eddie's sick today and I'm gonna take care of him. I'll need a ride later tonight, if that's okay." You reply, wondering what could be the problem on her end. She knew where you'd be, and she knows you're cautious and have Eddie to protect you.

"That's fine, sweetie. There's something else, though." The tone in her voice is freaking you out, setting off alarm bells inside your head.

"What is it?" You contemplate a million possibilities, but you can't think of anything outside of your unrealistic anxious fantasies.

"It's your father, Y/N. He's...he's dead, honey." Your breath catches in your throat at this news, though you're not sure how you feel about it. You don't feel sad, nor really shocked, either. You haven't seen him in almost ten years, does it really matter that he’s dead? He decided long ago that you don't matter enough to call, or visit, or even send a damn birthday card to. So, why would it matter to you that he's gone? You've made your peace with it, at least you thought so. As far you're concerned, you haven't had a living father in a decade. "Y/N? Sweetie?" You hear Mom trying to regain your attention.

"Sorry, I just don't really know...what to say. How do you know this, anyway?" You ask curiously. Dad’s done a pretty good job of hiding himself away, moving across the country and leaving no forwarding address or phone number.

"Well...Angie called me. She said he died in a car accident, and she wants to have the funeral here. She also wants their kids to meet you and Dusty." She replies apprehensively. You scoff at the idea, rolling your eyes. Of course, daddy bites the dust and his whore wants you to meet his new rugrats. No fucking thank you.

"And what did you say? I'd hope you told them to fuck off." You can feel yourself becoming overwhelmingly angry. How dare these fucking people that stole your dad away from you have the goddamn nerve to ask for such a favor? You don't care who these stupid people are, they are NOT your family.

"Sugarpuff! Language! I said it would be fine, they'll be in town anyway. Everyone knows Angie, and what happened with her and George. We might as well play nice and try to make the best of it." Mom doesn't exactly sound thrilled by the idea, but you can't believe she would ever agree to this.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Play nice! I'd rather lick the bottom of Lover's Lake than make nice with that whore and her stupid offspring! You do what you want, but I am NOT going to that bastard's funeral. And I'm certainly not going to entertain this bullshit idea of a 'family'. HE gave up on us, Mom! HE walked away and never looked back! So HE can have his new family mourn him, I want NO PART IN IT!" You can't believe the words coming out of your mouth right now, you've never spoken to your mother in such a way before. Anger is coursing through you viciously, you just can't stop yourself. You decide to hang up before she can respond. You don't want to deal with this right now. You slam the phone back onto the receiver, the dinging noise ringing in your ears.

"Jesus." Wayne looks at you with wide eyes, unable to believe you'd use such foul language towards your mother like that. He's about to try to talk to you about it, but you just put a hand up to stop him.

"Save it, okay? I mean no disrespect, but I really just want to focus on Eddie right now. I'm sure I'll get an earful later." Your nostrils flare as you practically stomp your way back down the hallway to Eddie's room. You shut the door, careful not to slam it as you're sure his uncle really won't appreciate that.

"You alright, princess? I heard you shouting." Eddie looks at you cautiously, noticing your knitted brows and impossibly reddened face. You're absolutely pissed, even more so than the time you two fought about Chrissy. You pace back and forth on the small amount of floorspace he has, trying to get yourself to calm down. But you can't, no matter how hard you try.

You just see George's stupid face, glancing at you with no expression, as he packs his suitcases into his car before driving off, never to be seen again. No hug, no kiss, not even the words 'good-bye' pass his lips. You see the movers taking half the furniture away to the new home he bought with his whore a week later. You see Mom crying on the floor where the old couch used to be, wedding photos spread across the carpet in absolute tatters as she shreds them with the scissors from the kitchen drawer. You see little Dustin at nine years old, sobbing in his Star Wars pajamas for his daddy, begging to know when he'll come back home. But most of all, you see yourself at age twelve. Standing in your room in front of your vanity, wondering why the three of you weren't enough as tears stain your cheeks.

You're seeing red. Angry, enraged, frustrated, painful, deep, dark fucking red. You want to scream and cry and break everything in sight. You want to claw your eyes out and tear your hair out in clumps. You want to punch a thick wall of concrete until all your fingers shatter, bash your skull against it. You want to go to that fucking funeral, and break open the fucking casket, and rip his fucking corpse apart. You're beyond rational thinking, unaware of anything going on around you. You can't hear Eddie asking you if you're alright, you can't see him trying to get your attention. All you can see is the pain that the man who unfortunately provided the sperm to create you has brought to your family. The only thing that snaps you out of it is Eddie standing in front of you, holding your shoulders firmly in his grasp as he looks at you. "What?" You say as you're yanked out of your own head, almost shocked to see him out of bed. Your chest is heaving, breath flaring out in harsh puffs. You soften a little, realizing Eddie's concerned about you.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" He implores, eyes searching yours for an answer. You've scared the hell out of him, watching you move back and forth like that was like nothing he's ever seen before. From anyone, even himself. You looked like a feral animal, ready to attack the first thing that got in your way. He's forgotten about his sickness altogether, too worried about what the hell is going on with you.

"My dad died." Those three words are all you can muster, it's like all emotion has been sucked out of you like a vacuum. You've spent it all having a mini breakdown, you're surprised you didn't punch Eddie in the face when he stood in your way. You didn't want to hurt him, obviously. It would’ve been more of a reflex thing.

"Okay? I take it that's not all, though. You wanna talk about it?" He asks, leading you to sit down with him.

"I guess. If you want. I can't guarantee I won't become unreasonably angry again." You sigh, worried he might think you're crazy for acting in such a way. But he just holds your hand, lifting your chin to gaze at you lovingly.

"I doubt it's unreasonable, Y/N. I've never seen you get like this before, and I doubt it was for nothing." His tone is calm, void of judgment. Eddie can tell this news is tearing you up inside, he can't say he wouldn't feel the same if his own father died while rotting in prison. "Lay down with me, baby. Tell me everything." You do as he asks, cuddling up with him under the covers. You lay your head on his chest, and he holds you close with his strong arms.

"So, Mom said Dad died in a car accident. Angie called her to tell her about it. I'm surprised she even thought to do such a thing. She had no issue stealing him away from us, I didn't think she was capable of a guilty conscience." You speak bitterly, brows furrowing again.

"I take it Angie is the woman your father ran off with?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, that fucking whore. They had a couple kids together, by the sounds of it. Real nice, it's like me and Dusty never even existed." You're startled by how amped up you're getting, hoping you don't lose control again. But you continue, focusing on Eddie's fingers lightly stroking your arm. "Angie wants to have the funeral in Hawkins, and she wants us to meet their kids." You practically spit those final words, they taste like poison in your mouth.

"What the fuck?" He says, surprised that your father’s mistress would be so bold as to ask for such a big favor.

"Yeah! Right? That's what I said! But Mom already agreed to it, for the sake of saving face, I guess. People around town know about her, and how she ran off with Dad. Maybe she thinks it's better to go so Angie can't spread bullshit about us to his old friends, or something, I dunno." You end on a shrug, nuzzling further into him.

"So...what was the shouting for?" Eddie's a little afraid to ask, not wanting to set you off again.

"I told her I'm not fucking doing that. Angie and whoever their kids are is his family now. Dad died nine years ago in my eyes. I have nothing to mourn for. I may have yelled at Mom, though, swore a lot. And I never speak to her like that. Ever." You tear up at the thought, you regret being so vulgar and mean.

"Jesus, Y/N." He sighs, a bit disappointed in you. You should know your mother wasn't meaning to upset you. It's not her fault that this is happening.

"I know, okay? I feel awful about it, and I'm sure she'll give me a stern lecture when she picks me up later. But, I was just so fucking angry. That bitch has the nerve to ask us for favors? When she destroyed the family we had in exchange for one for herself? She can go to hell for all I care." You shove your face against his shirt, letting the tears fall as frustrated sadness takes hold.

"It's alright, sweetheart. This shit sucks. I can't imagine what it must be like. But I'm here for you, ‘kay?" He coos at you, putting a hand on your head to caress your hair as you cry. He hates seeing you so upset, this whole thing makes him mad for you. You stay like this for a while, just holding each other close until your tears eventually dry up.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm meant to be taking care of you right now, and here you are looking after me again." You sniffle, getting out of bed to do what you've been meaning to since you found him ill this morning.

"It's fine, love. I think ‘dead dad’ beats ‘stomach flu’ in a relationship." He smiles at you, sitting up against the headboard.

"If  you say so. I'm gonna take your temperature and get you some soup. Drink your water, okay?" You instruct him, kicking into nurse mode. You're hiding again, giving in to that familiar reflex. You've told him pretty much everything, but there's something else. Part of you wants to go to the funeral, to let everyone know just how 'great' their friend/husband/father was. You doubt you'll be allowed to speak your piece, that's typically not on the agenda in the ceremony of mourning.

You go back to the kitchen, looking around the pantry for a can of chicken noodle soup. You locate one, opening it up and pouring the contents into a pot to heat up on the stove. Once it's ready, you transfer it to a bowl, bringing it back to Eddie on a tray along with some saltines and a glass of apple juice. "For me? You shouldn't have." He jokes, though he's not sure he'll be able to keep the food down for long. You seem off to him still, he's not sure why. But he's not gonna let you close yourself off, especially not with something like this. "Baby, what's wrong? And do not say 'nothing'." He says as you place the tray of food on his lap. Your eyes meet his, annoyed by how deadly serious he is.

You sigh, he's developed a knack for being so painfully intuitive with you. "Just a second, I gotta find your thermometer." You're stalling, leaving once more to dig through his medicine cabinet. You find what you're looking for, returning to his bedside to stick it in his mouth. He grunts at the sudden action, glaring at you as he holds the glass rod under his tongue. "Oh, hush." You sit sideways next to him, waiting for the reading. Eddie's eyes refuse to leave yours. He wants you to spill it, now. "Alright, alright! Stop staring at me like that, dammit!" You exclaim, his persistence is so irritating sometimes. "Look, much as I hate the whole situation, part of me wants to go. Not to meet Angie, not to meet her kids. But to tell everyone how awful of a person Dad is for leaving. Fat chance of that happening, though." You look down at your hands, picking your cuticles.

"Probably not. People don't take kindly to disrespecting the dead." Eddie says, taking the thermometer out of his mouth. He hands it to you, letting you read it. 100 degrees exactly, definitely a fever.

"Disrespect? I'd call it deserved." You retort, setting the thermometer on the nightstand.

"Sweetheart, I whole-heartedly agree with you. You should have every right to say what you want about him, but I can't imagine Angie or those kids would like to hear something like that. Would you, if you were in their place?"

You think about it for a moment, you've never considered how they might feel. It can't be easy for them, you're sure they loved him a lot. But his departure broke your family's hearts, and you feel like someone needs to pay. "I guess not. But,  that doesn't change what he did, Eddie." You don't want to budge on this, you don't want to make nice and play pretend. You feel like you're owed the opportunity to say what's on your mind, after so many years of biting your tongue.

"Of course not, angel. I'm not trying to justify what he did at all, far from it. I'm just worried that in your little crusade for justice you're having in your head, you might end up hurting someone else. And that's not right, either." Your own temperature seems to be rising, at least in the way of your emotions. You're getting aggravated again, you don't want to sit and moralize about how right or wrong what you want is.

"Well, maybe I don't want to be right. I'm always doing that, what's 'right'. Holding my tongue, staying out of trouble, nose dug deep in my textbooks. Such a well-behaved girl, sweet little Y/N wouldn't hurt a fly." You speak maliciously, though it's not directed at him. His eyes widen as you speak, realizing you're ramping up again. "Maybe I want to be a bitch for once. Make them feel just a sliver of what I've felt for nine fucking years. Sounds plenty fair to me." Your nails dig into your knees, making holes in your stockings. You're nearing the boiling point again, breathing so hard it almost hurts. You hate feeling so out of control, it’s like you're going insane.

Eddie reaches over to touch your arm."Sweetheart一" You shrug him off, standing up again.

"I gotta go." You blurt as you try desperately to not break down crying again.

"What? Why?" He asks, confused as to what's happening. He doesn't want you to leave. You shouldn't be alone right now.

"I just...don't like how I'm being right now, okay? I-I need to breathe, get some air. I'm gonna walk home. I gotta apologize to Mom anyway, deal with whatever shit-show is going on with all that. Yeah." You're talking too fast, frantically coming up with an escape plan. You don't want to leave Eddie like this, but you can't be around him right now.

"Y/N一" He's about to plead with you, but you just shake your head.

"Don't beg me to stay, okay? I can't take that right now. I want to take care of you, but my mind is in an awful, ugly place. I sound like a monster and I don't want you to hate me." You explain, needing him to understand.

"I could never hate you, princess." He insists, begging with his eyes for you to come back to him.

"You don't know that, Eds." You reply without thinking, taking both of you aback with the words. You shake your head again, regaining focus. "But that's not the point. Point is, I need to leave right now. I'm too angry to be a good nurse, and it's not going to simmer down anytime soon. I'm not hiding, I swear. Eat your soup, drink your juice, alright? And call me later if you're up to it, or I'll call you. Whichever. I'm gonna get my things from the van, and I'll put the keys in the glove compartment, or something."

"Y/N." He's about to get out of bed, but you put a hand on his leg to stop him.

"Stay in bed. You need to rest. You don't need to deal with me acting like this right now, I'll be okay. I promise." You go over to him, leaning down to press a kiss on his hot forehead. "I'll visit you tomorrow, darling. I love you."

"I love you too, princess. Please call me when you get home? I wanna make sure you get there safe." He hates this day. Him being sick, your dad dying, and now you're leaving him earlier than you planned. He's always been worried about you, but today is something else. You're so angry, bitter, violent, even. It scares him, but he’s aware it's nothing compared to how you feel about yourself. It must be absolute hell inside your brain, all kinds of overwhelming emotions clashing against one another. His heart breaks for you, he can't help a couple tears falling from his own eyes on your behalf. He cares so deeply about you, although he knows you need a little time on your own. You've gotten to a point where you won't run away for the sake of not talking things through. He trusts your choice, even if he doesn't like it.

"Oh, Eddie. Don't cry, I'll be okay. I'll call you as soon as I walk through the front door." You reassure him as your own waterworks start up again.

"I just hate being away from you. You mean everything to me. And I don't like seeing you so upset, you deserve to be happy, love." He cups your cheek, gazing at you meaningfully. You lean in to kiss him, but he holds you back. "I don't want you to get sick, baby."

"I don't care about that. With all the kissing and fucking yesterday, I'm already doomed. Now, kiss me goodbye, please?" You bite your lip, though it trembles between your teeth from crying. He lets you make contact with him, your salty tears mingling together on each other's cheeks. Today has been a whirlwind for both of you, and it takes everything in you to pull away until you come back tomorrow. "I love you, Eddie." You say with a shuddering breath, resting your forehead against his.

"I love you too, Y/N. So much." His voice is strained, the sting of stomach acid and tears takes a toll after a while. He can't stand the idea of you leaving right now. He'd pull you onto him and not let go, if it wouldn't spill hot soup everywhere.

"Okay." You sigh, standing up to separate yourself. "I'm gonna go, but I'll call, and I'll be back tomorrow to spend the whole day with you."

"Promise?" He asks, giving you his best puppy eyes. You giggle at his gesture. He’s highly capable of making you smile, even at your lowest points.

"I promise. Eat, rest, and no smoking until you're better!" You instruct, pointing a finger at him. He grumbles at that last part, but agrees that it's probably best. You step to the doorway, looking back at him one last time. "Goodbye, Eddie."

"Bye, love. Be careful out there." You nod, closing the door behind you and making one final trip down the hall. Wayne's digging around in the fridge now, looking for something to eat.

"Back again, huh? What's the little prince need this time?" He speaks jokingly, until he sees your red, puffy face. "You okay, darlin'?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm just gonna go home for now, apologize to my mother. I'll call Eddie when I make it back home, and come by again tomorrow." You explain, before heading for the door.

"Good. I was a little worried there's some trouble in paradise."

"No, no. Nothing like that, just dumb family stuff. Believe me, I have no intention of letting Eddie go anytime soon. Or maybe ever." You muse, smiling for the first time in hours. He chuckles at your words, more than glad to see how much you love his nephew.

"That's what I like to hear. He says the same thing 'bout you every day. And I know it's too early to have any kinda marriage talk, but seein' the way you've made ‘im happy? Well, let's just say I'd be proud to call you my niece."

"Thanks, that means a lot." You're not sure how else to respond to his statement, but it's very sweet.

"And I hope whatever it is you got goin' on gets better, Y/N. You're a sweet girl, and it pains me to see a pretty face so sad." He shows deep concern for you, you’re looking a little ragged. Your hair is messy, your makeup smudged and streaked down your face, your dress wrinkled, and a few holes in your stockings.

"I appreciate that, Wayne. You're very kind. I'm gonna head home now. Can you make sure he doesn't smoke in there? I have an inkling he might try to do it when I'm not here." You laugh, already imagining Eddie lighting up the second he hears the front door close.

"No problem, darlin'. Be safe out there, alright?" He's always so kind to you, treating you like you belong here. The second Eddie brought you home, it was like you were family to him. Who knows, maybe you will be one day.

"I will, don't worry." You pull open the front door, stepping out into the early afternoon sun. It's pretty warm out today, it shouldn't be a bad walk home. You go to the van to retrieve your things, hiding the keys in the glove compartment like you said you would. You put on your heels, it's slightly better than going barefoot.

The walk takes longer than you expect, but you suppose that's what you need right now. Lots of solitary time to navigate the storm of emotions swimming around your head. You cry for a while as you walk, watering the grass with your tears. You miss Eddie already, and it makes you want to turn back. But you also miss your mom, and she needs you just a little bit more right now. You're very angry as well, grumbling to yourself every now and again when nobody's around. You hate your father, but you've never really thought about it much until now. You hate what he did, and that he started a whole new family. And going by what Angie wants, he talked about you like you were still in his life. Bastard. He sure as hell didn't act like it, but had no problem using you in conversation when it was convenient for him. You find yourself walking up your driveway about an hour later, your body getting you home on autopilot. "Sugarpuff?" Mom asks as she sees you stumble in the front door.

"Jesus, are you alright?" Dustin pipes up, noticing how fucked up you look. You slip your shoes off, not realizing the walk has left you blistered and bleeding. You toss the heels haphazardly on the shoe rack, not caring where they land.

"You look terrible, Y/N. What happened?" Mom rushes over to you, taking you in a big hug. You tense up in her arms, before relaxing into the embrace. You burst into tears again, burying your face against her chest.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry for yelling and swearing at you. I'm sorry for being so mean一" you frantically apologize, unable to stop as you choke on your words.

"Honey, it's okay. Shh, it's okay." She strokes your back, trying to calm you down. Dustin joins the hug beside you, holding the three of you together in a nice warm bundle. You can hear them crying, too. It's just one big blubbering day for everyone, apparently. You're tired of the tears, but it's all you can manage. Your head hurts, and your stomach is cramping as you haven't eaten anything yet. And you suppose you need to know what the plan with all the funeral bullshit is, to know who or what to avoid, and when.

"Okay, I need to call Eddie. I also need to shower and eat something. I haven't had anything all day. And then you can tell me what the hell Angie wants." You wriggle out of the huddle, picking up the phone after stating your plan.

"So things are okay with Eddie, then? I was a little worried, given the state you're in." Mom says, breathing a sigh of relief that you're not nursing a broken heart.

"He's fine, I didn't wanna leave him when he's sick. But I'm needed more here." You dial his number, hearing it ring three times before being picked up. Wayne answers.

"Yello?" His gruff tone comes through the receiver.

"Hey, Wayne. It's Y/N, is Eddie awake?" You ask, hoping he is. You need to hear his voice again.

"Yeah, lemme get 'im for ya." He sets the phone down, you hear his footsteps recede down the hall. A moment later, Eddie picks up.

"Hey, angel. You get home alright?" He sounds so tired, you hope you didn't wake him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. My feet hurt, but it's fine. How are you doing? Did you eat your soup?"

"Yes, my love. Drank all my juice, too, like a good little patient. I still feel pretty awful. I wish you were still here, snuggled up in my arms." Sadness stains his words, sending sharp pangs through your chest.

"I know, baby. I'll be back tomorrow.. I'm gonna bring you some stuff to help you feel better, and I'm not leaving your side all day." You sweetly promise.

"You better! I hate being without you, sweetheart. Wayne's great and all, but I don't get to kiss him or call him cutesy names." He jokes, making you giggle. "There's my happy girl, I missed that laugh today."

"Yeah, I'm sorry today kinda went to shit." You can't help feeling guilty. From an outside perspective, it would seem you put your temper ahead of caring for your boyfriend.

"Relax, Y/N. There's nothing to feel bad about. I can already see the look on your face, don't beat yourself up." He always knows just what to say to make you feel better. You can't help smiling like an idiot when you're reminded of just how much he loves you.

"I'll try not to, Eds. I'm gonna let you rest, okay? You definitely need it." You hate to cut this conversation short, but you both have other things to worry about.

"I will. Be kind to yourself, Y/N. I love you." He speaks softly, the words sending calming waves through your body.

"I love you too, darling. I'll see you tomorrow." You hang up the phone, sighing as you let some of the weight of today fall off your shoulders. Eddie has a way of melting your stress away, almost like a superpower. "I'm gonna take a shower." You announce, glancing in Mom and Dustin's direction. They just nod, faces red and splotchy from today's news. You walk down the hall, shutting the bathroom door behind you. You peel your dress from your body, it smells like vomit,  soaked in sweat from your walk. The lingerie set isn't doing much better, so you leave everything crumpled in a stinking pile to be dealt with later.

You turn on the water, letting it warm up just the way you like it. You stand at the sink, looking at your reflection as the room fills with steam. You're an absolute mess, and you don't feel much better, either. You’re sure it's just a hangover. But, today has taken a serious toll on you. Your body aches from the miles you’ve traveled today, you hate the idea of standing up any longer to wash yourself. The hot water should help a little, loosen your sore muscles and wash away the caked makeup. There's also a sour taste in your mouth, so you decide to brush your teeth. The tingle of cool spearmint thankfully forces the bitter flavor to recede, and the shower is ready for you shortly after.

You step under the showerhead, letting the water rush over you. This is exactly what you need right now, although you've gotten used to having a partner here with you. You sigh again, cursing yourself for missing Eddie. He's going to be fine. You're going to be fine. It's hard to remember that sometimes, your brain finds worrying to be a rather thrilling hobby. You scrub the makeup off your face, reaching for the shampoo to clean your hair. You take your time, working the various soaps over your body to wash your troubles away. Once you're finished, you step out onto the cool tiles, wrapping yourself in a towel. You scoop your dirty clothes off the floor, tossing them in the hamper in your bedroom. The towel falls from your naked body, and you get into some comfy pajamas. "Alright, so what does Angie have planned, exactly?" You ask as you rejoin the others in the kitchen to rustle up a late lunch. Your stomach is begging for food, and you don't care what it is at this point.

"Come sit with us at the table, and we'll talk it over." Mom says, gesturing at a seat between her and Dustin. You grab some string cheese and an apple, something easy enough to eat before sitting down with them. "Okay, so Angie plans to have the funeral next Friday at 5pm. She'd like us all to be there, but before that she wants us to have dinner with her and the kids on Wednesday as they'll be in town to finalize the arrangements."

"Do we really have to do this?" Dustin asks, not exactly keen to meet some strange kids and hang around the woman who took Dad away from all of you.

"Yes, Dusty! We all do. I don't want to hear an argument about it, and I certainly don't want any fighting or name-calling either!" She warns, flicking stern eyes between the two of you.

"This is such bullshit." Dustin crosses his arms, wishing there was a way out of this.

"Language! Look, I'm not pleased about this, either. But he's dead, kiddos. There's nothing we can change about the past, no matter how much we want to. But what we can do is try to come together as a family and make a better future. We don't need to keep holding on to anger and resentment. We have to let it go." You're surprised she's handling this so well, she definitely took Dad leaving in the first place terribly. She cried for weeks, living off of wine and ice cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You had to step in to take care of yourself and Dustin while she grieved, and that certainly wasn't easy.

"You make it sound so simple. But you know damn well it isn't." You reply, still easily sent into pure rage at the mere thought of moving on and letting go.

"I didn't say it would be easy, kids. But that's the way it is. I don't want to hear any more about it. There's not going to be any more debate or discussion. You're both going to that dinner and the funeral, and you're gonna be on your best behavior." Claudia stands her ground. You and Dustin groan simultaneously, acting like petulant children.

"Can I at least bring Eddie? Otherwise, I dunno if I'll be able to last five minutes without throttling that whore's neck." You ask.

"Fine! But only because he's a good young man that knows how to keep you together. Now, that's the end of it. No excuses, no tantrums, no nothing. You just go, and play nice for a few hours. Alright?" You both nod sheepishly at her, not wanting to anger her any further. "And stop calling her a whore, dammit! She has a name, and you will show her respect by using it!" She adds, putting an end to the conversation.

"Okay, sorry." You apologize, though you don't really mean it. Angie is a whore, no matter how anyone wants to dress it up. She went after a married man. Her boss. Your father. She broke up your family, and you'll never forgive her for that. But you know how to fake it. You've been doing that for as long as you can remember. What difference will a few more times really make?

Part 11.2: Bad Medicine

Sunday, April 9th, 1989

"There's my sexy nurse! I've missed you, baby." Eddie calls to you as you walk in his front door on Sunday morning. You biked over after a short trip to the supermarket to gather some get-well supplies. He's laying on the couch to watch TV, covered up in a cozy blanket. There's various objects splayed about his lap, a paperback novel, D&D stuff, his sketchbook, and various writing utensils.

"And how's my handsome patient?" You reply, putting your backpack on the kitchen table with a thump.

"Still pretty awful, but Wayne's all better. He's actually working a double today to make up for the time he lost." He says as you come over to him. He sits up against the armrest, letting you clear the mess away before sitting at his side. His eyes have bags under them, he must not have slept much. And he's so pale, with a light sheen of sweat glistening on his face and neck.

"Still pukey?" You feel his forehead with your lips, still noticing a bit of a fever.

"A little. Much less than yesterday. But my head is killing me, and I keep going hot and cold."  He answers. You glance around to see if the thermometer is out here, realizing it might still be in Eddie's room.

"I'll be right back, Eds." You say simply, getting up to retrieve the little glass instrument. You locate it on his nightstand, just where you left it yesterday. You notice some fresh cigarette butts in his ashtray, the little shit smoked when you explicitly told him not to. You suppose it shouldn't be a big deal, he's twenty-three for fuck's sake. But it'll make him take longer to get better, and you hate to see him so miserable. You return to the room, standing next to the couch with a stern look on your face.

"What's wrong, angel?" He seems nervous, like he knows he's been caught. He swallows hard, worried you'll be angry with him.

"Eddie, did you smoke after I asked you not to?" You cross your arms, waiting for his response. He averts your gaze, your stare making him anxious.

"Maybe." He mumbles, cursing himself for not emptying the ashtray earlier.

You sigh, at least he's not lying about it. "Look, I know it's a strong habit for you. It's getting to be that way for me, too. But if you keep doing it while you're sick, it's just gonna take longer for you to get better." He scowls at you, annoyed at being treated like a child. You just roll your eyes, continuing your mini lecture. "You're a grown man, you can do what you want. I'm not gonna stop you, I'm only trying to help. You don't want to stay sick for longer than you have to, do you?"

"I suppose not." He replies in resignation, crossing his own arms now. Eddie apparently gets quite bratty when he's sick. He's lucky it's a cute look on him.

You know exactly what to say to convince him to stop smoking, letting a mischievous smirk spread across your face. You sit down once more, leaning in real close to look deep into his eyes. "You know....the sooner you get better, the sooner I can give you head and have sex with you." You tease in a sing-song voice, making his eyes widen.

"Fine! Fine, I'll stop. It's gonna be absolute hell, though, nicotine withdrawal is no joke." He grumbles, letting you confiscate his cigs and lighter.

"I know, baby. But I'm gonna make it all better, okay?" You take hold of his clammy hand, bringing it to your lips to kiss it. Eddie softens at your touch, he tells himself he can go a couple days without his smokes. "Did you sleep at all? You look exhausted."

"Uh, not really. Was too busy shivering and barfing." He yawns, struggling to keep his eyes open. You gesture for him to keep his mouth agape, gently placing the thermometer under his tongue. He hates the damn thing, paranoid he might bite too hard on it one day and hurt himself.

"I'm sorry, love. I feel awful for leaving early yesterday. Maybe you'd be better off today if I had stayed." Seeing him in such a state has made your heart ache with guilt, you couldn't keep yourself together for a few hours to take care of him when he needed you most. You feel like a terrible girlfriend right about now, letting anger take control like that was so selfish. Eddie hands off the thermometer again, though you're not sure it was in long enough to get an accurate reading.

"I would be exactly the same, Y/N. The only thing that would be different is you having a higher chance of getting sick. It was probably best for you to go home when you did. Speaking of, how are you doing?" He can tell you're beating yourself up again, it reads like a blinking neon sign on your face. He hates it when you do that, you're so hard on yourself when you don't need to be.

"I'm fine, not sick at all. I am kinda tired, yesterday took a lot out of me." You realize how silly you sound, complaining about being tired when your boyfriend is fighting off a nasty flu. "It doesn't matter, I'm here to take care of you." You shake your head and force a smile to convince him it's not a big deal. He's your priority right now, nothing else.

"Sweetheart, it matters to me that you're alright. I don't want you to pretend you're fine if you're not. I may be sick as a dog, but that doesn't mean you can't have something going on, too. I'm perfectly capable of being there for you, no matter how much I feel like death. How'd things go after you got home?" He insists you're not doing anything wrong, speaking calmly while holding your hand.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the thought of how yesterday went. You'd rather not relive it, but Eddie insists on being supportive. "Well, we were all crying in the goddamn living room before I called you, so that was fun." Sarcasm laces your voice, you're just so over all the crying at this point. "And after I had a shower and stuff, Mom said we have to go to dinner with Angie. Then, we have to go to the funeral. We also have to play nice and not cause a scene. I'm not allowed to call Angie a whore anymore either, because 'she has a name and I have to use it'." You're nauseated by the thought of having to do any of these things, not hiding the amount of contempt you have as you speak. You know you sound childish, like a surly teenager bitching about doing something you don't want to. But you can't help it, this whole thing is so fucking stupid and unfair. You look at him, wondering if he's judging you for acting so immature. But he's just patiently listening, letting you vent any way you please.

"So, when's all that happening?" Eddie asks, wanting to be there by your side if he can. He senses you probably need an anchor to stop you from going off the deep end, and he'll happily be that for you.

"Dinner is on Wednesday, and the funeral is on Friday." You grumble, wishing your final exams would go long enough to let you skip it. But alas, you have no such luck.

"You want me to go with you? That is, if your mom says it's okay." He doesn't want to step on anyone's toes, though he imagines Claudia won't mind. She's a sweet woman, always warm and welcoming with others.

"I was just about to ask you that. She said you can come, if you're up for it. And I would really appreciate you being there. Otherwise, I don't know what I might do." You giggle like it's a joke, but it’s not exactly funny. It’s entirely possible that if you have to go through all this without him, you might do something crazy. What that 'something' might be, you're not so sure. All you know is that it wouldn't be pretty.

"Of course I'll be there, babydoll. I know this isn't easy for you, and I wanna be there to hold your hand through it all." He says sweetly, God you love this man. He never hesitates to jump at the chance to be in your corner.

"Thank you, Eds. Although, I'm hoping you'll be holding more than just my hand." You bite your lip suggestively, making a bold move of bringing Eddie's hand to cup your tit over your t-shirt.

He groans, wishing he could act on the slight boner growing inside his pajamas. His eyes flick between yours and your beautiful chest, chuckling darkly. "Ooh, I get a naughty nurse, huh? You're lucky I can barely move, or I'd be taking your temperature." He squeezes your flesh a little, just enough to draw a breathy moan from your lips.

"Well, I am feeling a little warm. Maybe I should take off my shirt, that way you can get a better reading." What the hell are you doing? You can't believe that you're seriously leaning into this right now. Eddie's sick, very sick. You can't fuck him, much as you currently want to. It's unfair to wind yourselves up when you can't act on it, borderline cruel. You sigh, gently removing his hand from your chest, letting it fall into your lap. You shake your head, locking your libido away in a box inside your mind. "Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. God! Why is my brain compelled to cope with stress by being a total slut?" You chuckle in annoyance, utterly embarrassed with yourself.

"Hey, I'm not complaining! I was even starting to feel better, sweetheart." Eddie strokes your thigh, which just smashes that box open again. You hold back another moan, you hate how easily amped up you are sometimes. He notices your change in body language, taking his hand away while clearing his throat. "Sorry, I'll cool off."

"It's fine, Eds. We'll have some catching up to do once you're better." You giggle, giving him a genuine smile this time.

"That we will." He laughs, already picturing what he plans to do with you.

"But for now, back to business. I brought some stuff for you." You pat his thigh, standing again to go open up your backpack. You pull out a plastic bag, which contains ginger ale, cans of soup, and a box of bland crackers. You noticed there wasn't another can of chicken noodle in his cabinets yesterday, and the saltines you gave him were kinda stale. "Have you eaten yet today?" You ask, glancing over at him from the kitchen table.

"I had some toast earlier." He replies, reaching for his sketchbook again. You nod, looking at the clock. Half-past ten, not quite time for lunch. Ginger ale couldn't hurt, though. You locate a glass, opening the can with a tsss. You bring it over to him, setting it on the table.

"This should help settle your stomach, darling." He smiles in kind, eyes still trained on the page in front of him. His tongue is sticking out as he concentrates on whatever he's drawing. "Whatcha workin' on, baby?" You ask, very curious what's got hold of his attention over you.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" He says with a smirk, eyes flicking to yours for a moment. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what that means. "You'll see, but you gotta wait until I'm done."

"If you say so." You say nonchalantly, but inside you're dying to find out what he's hiding. You've seen a lot of his artwork over the last few weeks, he's so talented it's unreal. "Do you need anything else?" You ask, unsure what to do now. You'd try to cuddle him, but Eddie would probably think you're just trying to peek at his work. Or that you're making an attempt to get sick to avoid going to the funeral.

"Nope. I'm just happy to have you here, sweetheart." He speaks contentedly. You nod, drumming your thighs with your hands. "Do you need something, my love?" He asks, his eyes trained on his work.

"No, not really. Oh, did you get the stuff out of the van at all?" You ask, trying to find something to do.

"Nah, I barely made it to the couch today." He replies.

"Oh, that's okay. I'll take care of it." You chirp, eager to have a new task.

"You don't have to, Y/N. You're not my goddamn maid." Eddie says dismissively.

"I know. I want to, chores keep my mind busy." You explain, picking your fingers. Sitting in silence isn't exactly best when trying to stay calm about the whole 'dead dad' thing. Eddie stops what he's doing when he realizes why you're asking. He lays his drawing face down on his chest to look at you apologetically.

"Sorry. I'm just not used to having people do things for me like that." His expression softens, and he takes hold of your fidgety hand. "Knock yourself out, baby. I’m sure you could use a distraction."

"Thanks, love." You lean forward, giving him another kiss on the forehead. He hums at the contact. In a sneaky move, you attempt to flip his sketch over to see what he's up to. He swats your hand away, tutting at you in disapproval.

"Y/N! No peeking!" He flattens his palms over the book, holding it down defensively. He narrows his gaze at you, almost glaring.

"Okay, okay. I'll leave you alone. You're just so talented, Eds. I love seeing what you create." You say sweetly, watching his cheeks flare at your compliment. You love it when he blushes, because only you make him do that. You giggle at his reaction, leaving his side to set to work. You retrieve his things from the van, putting the empty mugs in the sink and his books on the shelf. The blanket goes in the wash with his dirty clothes, and you get the cycle going. While the washer is running, you clean all the dishes in the sink left over from yesterday, drying them with a towel before returning them to their rightful place.

You feel Eddie's eyes on you as you work, and they're most certainly focused on your ass. You smirk at the thought, letting him enjoy the view from the couch. You turn around to peek every so often, but he's too quick at averting his gaze for you to catch him. You're just finishing drying the final dish, one of Wayne's mugs, when his arms wrap around you from behind unexpectedly. "Are you done yet, sweetheart? I've got something to show you." He speaks lowly in your ear, making your skin sizzle where his breath fans over it.

"Eddie, go lay down. You're supposed to be resting. I'll be there in a sec." You're surprised he has the strength to even make the trip over to you, much less 'unintentionally' tease you again. He blows you a raspberry, begrudgingly returning to the couch. You roll your eyes, tossing the kitchen towel into the laundry basket once you're done with it. You retrieve another ginger ale from the fridge, bringing the can over and pouring it into his glass. "Alright, let's see it!" You say in excitement.

Eddie holds his sketchbook in his hands, slowly turning it to show you what he's drawn. He smiles at you, though he's unsure his work is good enough. What you see on the page makes your jaw drop. He's managed to capture your likeness perfectly. The slope of your nose, the sparkle in your eyes, the rounds of your cheeks, your beautiful hair with the flower he put into it on Friday. Every little detail is flawless, you've never seen yourself like this before. "Do you like it?" He asks, dying a little with every second that you're silent.

"Yes! It's amazing, baby! How long have you been working on this?" You take the book from him, wanting to get an even closer look. He smirks, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Since this morning. It's a rough sketch, really, I can do better with more time." He's quick to put himself down, but you won't hear it.

"Oh, stop that. It's perfect. Can I keep it?" You ask, pouting your lip..

"Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you." He chuckles, unable to resist giving you everything you want. You lean over to give him a light kiss on the lips, letting out a content sigh when you pull away.

"You're really something else, Eddie Munson." You set the book on the table, not caring about any germs at this point. You lay your body over his, cuddling up real close. You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling him with your face. "Is this okay, baby? I can move if you're not comfortable." You ask, realizing you might be acting selfishly again.

"It's more than okay. I love being close to you, princess. You're the perfect little snugglebug." Eddie coos, always up for a good cuddle with his favorite girl. He lays his arms over your back, stroking you mindlessly with his fingertips. You can hear his heart beating steadily in his chest, your own gradually matching his rhythm. He feels so nice and warm against you, his touch lulling you into a relaxed state. You don't mean to, but you can't help drifting off into a light sleep. Eddie notices your delicate snoring, deciding to let you be for as long as he can. He knows how exhausted you must be from everything going on in your life right now. Watching you have some semblance of peace makes his heart relax, and he follows you into dreamland shortly after.

You wake up a while later, craning your neck up to look around while blinking your eyes repeatedly. Eddie's unmoving underneath you, breathing quietly as his head lays against the armrest. He's still sleeping, and you try your best not to wake him up. "God, he's so cute when he sleeps." You whisper to yourself, wondering how you managed to get so lucky. As carefully as you can, you lift his arms off of you, laying them back over his lap. You slip off the couch, and stand to check the time. 1:00pm, he needs to eat. You creep over to the kitchen, opening cabinets and clicking on the burner as quietly as possible. You heat up another bowl of soup, and bring it over on a tray with some crackers. Your hand gently extends to tap Eddie awake. "Hey, I made you some lunch." He stirs, rolling onto his side with a groan. You hate to wake him, but he's got to put some food in his stomach. "Baby, c'mon." You persist, and his eyes flutter open to look at you.

"Hm?" He asks through squinted eyes, still working his way out of the thick sleep clouding his head. His hair frames his face in a frizzed out mess of chocolate curls. His gaze falls to the table, and you can hear his stomach grumble in hunger. "Thank you, sweetheart." He gives you a weak smile, sitting up and putting his feet to the floor. Eddie runs his hands over his face, loudly exhaling in an effort to ground himself in reality. He was having the strangest dreams, a fever will do that. And it feels like he's slept for a hundred years, though he doesn't feel well-rested whatsoever.

"I was thinking I could...run you a bath after you've eaten? Wash the sweat away, soothe your achy little muscles?" You suggest, sitting beside him and putting your palm against his back. He just nods and reaches for the spoon to eat his soup. You observe him closely, almost like a hawk. You don't mean to hover, truly. Eddie notices you staring, looking at you with a warm smile a few times. "Sorry." You say flatly as he 'catches' you for the third time.

"It's okay, Y/N. I'm not a baby bird." He jokes, his free hand going to your knee to squeeze it comfortingly. You giggle at his comment, he’s still a joker despite how miserable he might feel. "Have you eaten today?" He asks, turning the concern onto you.

"Uh....I had coffee this morning. Does that count?" Your tone acknowledges just how much Eddie won't like hearing this. He gives you a stern look, pointing to the kitchen.

"Go find something. Jesus Christ." It's not a suggestion, but more of an order. You do as he asks, yelping at his hand lightly spanking your ass as you stand. You have half a mind to glare at him, but you doubt that’ll go down well. You make yourself a sandwich, returning to Eddie's side as you set your plate on the coffee table. "That's my girl." He kisses your forehead, though he's still a bit annoyed at you ignoring your own needs for his benefit.

"I suppose. I'm not very hungry." The ham and cheese on Wonder bread before you is quite possibly the most unappealing thing on earth right about now.

"I know, baby. But you gotta eat. It's just a little sandwich." Eddie insists, munching down some of his crackers.

"Ugh." You grumble, and hold the soft, white bread in your hands. You force the sandwich down your throat one bite at a time. Your guts have been twisted up in knots since yesterday, making it difficult to eat. You're nervous about finals starting tomorrow, and all the funeral-related activities this week, along with taking care of Eddie. It's like you're juggling everything inside your head, balancing on a unicycle all the while. Any second, you'll drop one of the balls, and everything will come crashing down. You swallow the last bite, it hits your stomach like a heavy stone. "I'll get your bath going, Eds." You say quickly, putting your plate in the sink before heading for the bathroom.

"O-kay." Eddie replies, wondering why you're fleeing his side. He continues eating, he'll never hear the end of it if he doesn't swallow every last bite. You turn on the faucet of the bathtub, the water gushing in a thick stream as you push down the plug. Your hand rests under it, gauging the temperature to make sure it's just right. You don't want to leave Eddie all alone in there, but you sense your sandwich wanting to make a surprise return.

"Fuck." You sigh to yourself, trying to feel your own forehead. But your hands are too cold to tell if you have a fever or not. Nausea flows through you in harsh waves, flipping your stomach like a fallen surfer spinning through the rush of the ocean. You're not sure if it's the flu, or if you're just anxious. Your hands are clammy, and your heart is racing. You can't slow your rapid breathing, this has to be another attack. That's it, you can't hold it anymore. You dash over to the toilet, just barely making it into the bowl.

"You okay, princess?" Eddie calls from the living room. When he doesn't get an answer, you hear his footfalls coming down the hallway. He leans in the doorway, finding you on your knees while you throw up. "Shit, sweetheart." He tuts, kneeling beside you to hold your hair back. You tremble as your insides wring themselves out like a used rag. Great, he's taking care of you, yet again. You'd roll your eyes if your stomach wasn't clenching as hard as it can to empty itself completely. You finish a minute later, turning to lean against the wall as you gulp in air. Eddie leans over to feel your forehead with his lips, you soften at the plush feel against your skin. "Hmm, you don't have a fever. Are you alright?" He asks, eyes filled to the brim with worry.

"I'm fine, mostly. I've just been so anxious about everything, I think it's catching up with me." You reply, forcing yourself to stand and continue monitoring his bath. Eddie wishes you'd slow down, you're ignoring what your body needs, and it's hurting you. He joins you on his feet, forcing you to face him.

"Baby, I'm worried about you." He says, taking your hands in his. His thumbs stroke your fingers, but your focus remains on the running water. "Y/N. Can you stop for a second? The bath can wait." His voice raises, no longer hiding his annoyance. Your eyes flick to his reluctantly, and his shoulders tense at what he finds there. You pupils show exhaustion, and fear, and maybe a little anger, too. He imagines you don't appreciate him badgering you like a child. "Look, I know you've got a lot on your plate right now." Eddie starts, moving closer to put his hands on your waist.

"You can say that again." You interrupt, crossing your arms in defense. You're not really sure why you feel like this. Eddie's only trying to help, but maybe that's the problem. He's always helping you, it's almost never the other way around. He should be in bed, resting. Not trying to comfort you when you've gone all nutso again.

"I think you need to slow down, angel. You're so focused on helping me, you're ignoring everything else." Your face falls at his words, staring at the floor. There's a crack in the tile that you suddenly find very interesting. He lifts your chin with his finger, trying to get you to listen. His face hardens, jaw clenching slightly. "I'm serious, princess. You're all over the place in there, and that's okay. But I won't let you ignore what you need for my sake. I don't care if that means you're crying every five minutes, or bursting with rage, or whatever else. Either let it happen and we'll deal with it, or you have to go home. Understand?" He says finally.

You're taken aback by him suggesting that he'll kick you out. But he's right, bottling yourself up clearly isn't the move here. You still feel immeasurably guilty for having problems when he's sick. Obviously, you can't control when life comes around to knock you on your ass. The timing sucks, but Eddie doesn't care. He wants you to be open with him, and that's not asking much. "Okay." You answer, not sure what else there is to add. He nods, letting you go so he can undress. You turn away, shutting the water off once the tub is filled up enough. You grab a towel from the rack above the sink, closing the toilet lid to set it on top. You also pluck a washcloth from the shelf, doing everything in your power to not peek at Eddie's naked body. You set the cloth on the edge of the bath, in perfect reach for him.

You hear him step into the water, little splashing noises rippling through its surface as he sits down. He groans, his muscles aching terribly while he tries to get comfortable. You're about to leave the room to give him some privacy, when he speaks again. "You wanna help me, love?" Eddie asks, desperately wanting your assistance. He can barely lift his arms, washing himself on his own will prove to be a challenge.

You turn on your heels, meeting his gaze. "Of course, baby." You reply kindly, kneeling beside the tub. You tie your hair in a ponytail to keep it from dipping into the water, which makes Eddie cock an eyebrow at you. "I don't wanna get my hair wet, you perv." You scoff, lightening the air in the room. He chuckles back, his body relaxing further as the warmth of the bath seeps beneath his skin. You reach for the plastic cup that's kept in the room, dipping it into the tub to fill it. You lift it above Eddie's head, blocking the flow from his face with your hand to wet his hair. It takes a few tries, his locks are particularly thick.

"I'm lucky to have you, babydoll. You know that, right?" He says, eyes fluttering closed at the comforting sensation of you massaging shampoo into his scalp. He moans lightly, your hands feel so good right now. Fuck, don't get hard, he thinks to himself. What you're doing isn't meant to be sexual whatsoever. What can he say? You possess the ultimate power over him, one he doesn't let anyone have so easily.

"You say that, and I want to believe you." You speak honestly. That's what he wants, right? "I mean, I know you mean it. I just…feel like more trouble than I'm worth." His eyes open again, looking at you sideways.

"Never, Y/N. I promise, there's nothing you say or do that feels like too much." He says earnestly. Ugh, he's too perfect. You just nod in response, reaching for the cup again to rinse out the lather. You condition his hair, letting yourself relax as you admire his blissed out face. He loves having you by his side, and you love being here just as much. Your eyes slip downwards, finding Eddie's erection underneath the sudsy water. You blush, averting your gaze. Don't stare, dumbass. He's sick, and vulnerable. "I saw that." He startles you, making you gasp. Your cheeks burn in shame, but he just laughs. "It's okay, love. It's not a big deal. We're in an intimate moment. It's bound to bring out certain...feelings." Eddie clears his throat at that, also a bit embarrassed despite his own words.

"You always know exactly what to say, Eds." You smirk, rinsing his hair again before wetting the washcloth and adding some soap to it. You scrub his body gently, starting with his back. You watch his muscles flex, which gets your heart beating a little faster. His shoulder blades shift under his perfect skin, and you're imagining that's what they look like when he's laying on top of you. Dammit. You can't help the little sigh that escapes your lips, though he seemingly takes no notice. You move on to his arms, holding him by the wrist as you drag the cloth along his flesh. He smiles at you, savoring every touch you give him.

You take his other arm, having to lean over the water to fully reach him. Eddie stares at your chest, examining the outline of your bra cups under the thin t-shirt you're wearing. He bites his lip, wanting to bury his face in your amazing tits. You both come to the conclusion that because you can't have sex right now, it makes you want it more than you ever thought possible. The perfect torture for a young couple like yourselves. "This is so fuckin' unfair." Eddie verbalizes what you've both been thinking since he got into the tub, the whine tinging his voice echoes the one in your head.

"I know, baby. I hope I'm not being dramatic when I say it's killing me." You reply, letting his arm go to wash his chest. You've been avoiding this area, as it's probably one of your favorite parts of him. His supple skin, the tattoos, the light amount of hair leading a trail to another part you especially adore.

"Not at all, sweetheart. The feeling is mutual." He shudders as you bring the cloth to his torso, gritting his teeth to keep himself from pulling you into the tub with him. He feels so weak, and yet, still so hungry for you. It's an awful combination, really. You focus on the task at hand, forcing yourself to only see a surface that needs cleaning and nothing more. It helps, and you're soon able to migrate to his armpits. He settles down a little, his underarms are definitely not an erogenous zone.

You hand off the cloth to him once you’ve done all you can. "Here, I’m sure you can clean your bits on your own." You sigh, and he nods while taking it from your grasp. You turn away again, hearing him shuffle around uncomfortably. He squeezes the cloth out when he's done, setting it on the edge of the bathtub.

"All clean, sweetheart." He says, signaling that you're okay to look at him again. You do, finding wide eyes staring back at you. His pupils are blown out, all your touching has amped him up beyond belief. He's trying to think of something, anything else. But it's not working, and his cock is not settling down.

"You alright there, Eddie?" You ask, though you think you already know the answer. He slowly shakes his head, but he can't possibly ask you to do what he wants. Your eyes look between his legs again, he's still hard as a rock, leaking from the tip. "Oh, baby. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rile you up like this." You tut, barely able to resist licking your lips at the sight of him.

"Not your fault. You're just really good at giving baths, apparently." He breathes heavily, and you know exactly what you can do. It's not much, not nearly enough compared to what you both crave. But it'll have to do. You reach your hand under the water, keeping your eyes on his. He's almost panting, anticipating your hand wrapping around his length. "Fuck, Y/N." He moans when you make contact, and it sets your insides on fire.

"It's okay, love. I'll make it all better." You coo at him. Using your free hand, you gently push on his chest to have him lay against the back of the bath. His knees breach the surface, letting you access him easily. You begin to pump him in your palm, eating up every little sound he lets out. You feel yourself getting wet, but you don't do anything with it. You can get off on your own at a later date, it's all about Eddie right now. "Does that feel good, Eds?" You ask, smiling warmly at him as his mouth sits agape.

"Yes, so good." He replies with a whimper, extending a hand to feel you up over your shirt. You moan at his touch, not caring about his fingers leaving wet marks on the fabric. You stop for a second, taking off your top and bra to let him massage your tits. "You're so pretty, angel. So fuckin' perfect." He groans, carefully tweaking your nipple between his pruney fingers.

"And you're absolutely gorgeous, baby. The most handsome man I've ever seen." You moan at the cool sensation of his wet flesh touching yours, gripping his dick a little harder in your hand. You're sitting on your knees, trying to give him as much access as you can. He sits up, bringing his hot mouth to your chest. "Jesus, Eds." You gasp, jerking him faster in your hand. He plants sloppy kisses all over your breasts, taking one of your sensitive buds between his teeth. His wet hair drips heavily onto your jeans, seeping through to your panties without a care. His hands move behind you, holding you closer as he marks your flesh. More water runs down your back, flowing directly into the little gap at the back of your pants. He's gonna get you soaked, in more ways than one.

"I wish I could be inside you, princess." He mumbles against your chest, frantically nipping at you as your wrist flicks expertly to drive him wild.

"I know, baby. As soon as you're better, we'll fuck as much as you want." You hold his head to your chest, his tongue and teeth feel so fucking good against you.

"Promise?" He asks, nearing his end as you stroke him even faster beneath the water.

"I promise. As many times as you want, for as long and as hard as you want. We can even use every page we haven't gotten to in that little book you gave me." You whine, wishing you could get off like this. You're certainly revved up, but it's not nearly enough.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." He grunts, his stomach tensing as his release overtakes him. Eddie moans against you, biting hard on your tender skin. His load empties into the bath, a sticky paste that sinks to the bottom. His hips stutter which, causing the water to slosh around, and his breath comes out ragged as his high subsides. Eddie lets you go, laying back down with his heart hammering inside his chest. "Remind me to get sick more often." He quips, making you giggle. You start to shiver, the water he’s dripped all over you has made your clothes uncomfortable to continue wearing.

"Absolutely not. As much as I love taking care of you, not being able to fuck your brains out is the worst punishment imaginable." You unplug the tub, and the water slurps down the drain. You help Eddie stand, wrapping his arm around your naked torso to lead his feet onto the bath mat. Droplets fall from him, landing on the plush material below in quiet taps. You hand him his towel, gathering both your discarded clothes to wash later. You go to his room, locating some clean pajamas for the two of you to wear. You're sure he won't mind you borrowing some clothes while your own hang up to dry.

Eddie sneaks up behind you, slapping your ass again. You yelp, whipping around to shoot him a glare. Your tits bounce at the motion, his eyes falling to your chest. "Goddamn, I'll never get tired of seeing these." His tongue plays at the edge of his mouth, and you notice his towel wrapped around his waist. His v-line is in full view, distracting you for a second. You snap yourself out of it, remembering that you have to wait.

He's just about to reach up and grab your breasts, when you back away from him. "Cool it, Eds. You've had enough excitement for one day." You tease, throwing some pajamas his way as you pull one of his Dio shirts over your head. He whines at the loss of a beautiful view, and you scoff at him. You slip out of your soggy jeans and panties, replacing them with some flannel lounge pants that go a little ways past your feet. You have to tie the drawstrings extra tight so they don't fall down, hoping you won't trip over the excess length.

"Fuck, you always look so good in my clothes. How do you do that?" Eddie asks in disbelief. You're not sure what he means. You feel like a little kid, the clothes that fit him perfectly are easily two sizes too large on you.

"I dunno, they sure are comfy though." You say sheepishly, playing with the hem of your 一his一 shirt. Once he’s fully dressed, you take everything that needs washed to the machine. You realize you have other items in there from earlier, swapping them out quickly and hanging the clean clothes to dry over the shower curtain rod. You start the next wash cycle, and take Eddie's dirty dishes to the sink. You contemplate washing those, too, but you think your body is finally ready to accept a small amount of food. You stick a couple slices of bread in the toaster, pressing the lever down to get them nice and warm. You find some peanut butter in the cabinet, something comforting ought to stay down.

Eddie returns to the couch, switching the channel on the TV. He absolutely hates daytime talk shows. "You feelin’ better, sweetheart?" He asks, settling on a cartoon. He certainly feels miles better himself, though he's not at full strength just yet.

"I’m alright. I'm actually hungry now…for more than just food." You can't help it, the little 'splash' the two of you made in the bathroom a few minutes ago has really got you going. Maybe you shouldn't be telling him this, he'll probably feel bad for getting you all hot and bothered. But he wants honesty, and you're going to give it to him.

"Yeah...sorry ‘bout that." He replies, guilt lacing his tone. There it is, you knew you should've kept your mouth shut.

"It's fine, love. Toast will have to do, for now." You sigh, regretting every word that leaves your lips. You don't want him to be upset, you just want him to get better. You hunch over the counter, laying your chin on your flattened palms as you stare at the toaster. The shiny metal reflects your face back at you in morphed fashion, your expression downturned into a rubbery frown.

"Oh, you poor thing. I can hear the blue balls from across the room. I'll make it up to you every way I can, princess. I assure you of that." He says smartly, finding your frustration just a teensy bit amusing.

"You better. I expect to not be able to walk by the end of the week." You grumble, hiding your smirk as you continue to watch your own warped image in the kitchen appliance. You instinctively rub your legs together as unsavory thoughts flood your head.

"You got it, baby." He chuckles, putting together a plan of attack. One which will be executed once he can fully stand on his own two feet.

The toast pops up, and you hastily spread the peanut butter onto it, before gobbling up every last crumb. "Fuck, peanut butter toast never tasted so good." You say with your mouth full, still hunching over the counter. Eddie glances over at you, laughing at the smudge of butter at the left side of your mouth. Crumbs lay about your chest, some sticking into the mess on your lips. "That bad, huh?" You ask after swallowing, reaching for a paper towel to clean yourself up.

"I'm just happy to see you eating, sweetheart. Though it would be dishonest to say it wasn't a tad unladylike." He scrunches his nose, not taking that term seriously. He couldn't give a shit if you were the most improper person in the world, he'd still love you more than anything.

"If there's one thing I've proven time and again, it's that I'm definitely far from 'ladylike'." You practically skip over to him, the feeling of food sitting calmly in your belly has changed your mood significantly. "But you already know that." You let out a bubbly giggle, sitting down beside your ailing lover. You lay your head on his shoulder, humming at how warm he is through his clothes. "What about you? Feeling any better?"

His arm shifts under you, wrapping around your body to pull you closer. "Very much, Y/N." He kisses the top of your head, making your heart melt. "Are you gonna stay over tonight? It's totally fine if you don't. I know you've got that final exam tomorrow." Eddie asks, hoping you'll stay. You make everything better for him, and he hates being apart from you. He supposes his wanting is a bit selfish, you could easily turn up sick if you stick around for too long. But you're the one thing he needs, all the time.

"I'm not going anywhere until the morning, my prince. I brought extra clothes for tomorrow, and that's all I need to show up with, aside from a pencil." You answer cheerily, making his wish come true. His eyes light up at your words, and he pulls you into him for a clumsy kiss.

"You're the best, Y/N. And I just know you're gonna ace that test tomorrow!" He beams, absolutely over the moon to have you in his company all night long.

"You're damn right! I'm not a fuckin' bookworm for nothing!" You joke, making both of you fall into a hearty laugh.

To be continued...

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader

[piper-2244]

unsaid

how gn!reader and spencer handle deeper feelings with each other- or how they don't handle them.

angsty fluff? some hard feelings? idk WHAT this is word count: 1258 warnings & tags & stuff: I was picturing mid seasons spence for this, brief mention of a spider?, insecure reader, ugh they're SO in love but also so quiet about it, ignoring problems, happyish ending author's note: first piece of writing on here! this is actually so bad but my brain is ROTTED from spencer fluff and honestly him in general, he's all i can think about so obviously i have to contribute to the epidemic

“HELP!”

You hear footsteps bounding towards you and the door to the kitchen slam open. Spencer’s head swivels as he assesses the situation: you, backed into a corner, clutching a glass, looking directly at a point across the room with a terrified look in your eyes. Spencer’s face immediately relaxes and he moves over to take the glass from you.

“Where is it?” He asks calmly. You point, and the spider is quickly dealt with and brought outside. Spencer walks back into your apartment and you look at him, blushing a little, heart still pounding.

“Thanks,” you say, self-effacingly, taking the glass back from him and setting it in the sink. “I'm sorry for bothering you, I know you were in the middle of doing some work, and I know that my reaction was completely irrational, it’s just-”

“Hey,” he interrupts, reaching out to trace your arm lightly. “It's alright. It’s actually completely justifiable. Our brain is wired to be afraid of spiders because they were a larger threat to our ancestors. Today, although we seldom encounter spiders and they are not a constant threat to us, we still have this fear because it’s ingrained in our DNA,” he explains, trying to calm your anxiety. “I’m also around 80 percent done with my report. So I can finish it later in the week. I'm all yours.” He peers down at you, a small smile playing on his face. You admire his smile for a second or two before his words actually register and you squint disbelievingly.

“I don't know how I feel about that. I shouldn't be taking you from your…duties,” you say, tilting your head.

“My duties?” he asks, matching the angle of your head, laughing a little. You shrug, giving him a slight giggle too.

“Okay, duties are the wrong word. But you do do important work that I should recognise has to take priority sometimes. I bet Hotch would rather you finish your report tonight.” He nods quietly, and you know he agrees. He beckons his head, a signal you’ve come to know means ‘come closer and hug me’. You do so, hugging him tightly and letting his arms wrap around you. You back away after a bit and give him a signal of your own- standing on your tiptoes and looking at him expectantly. He bends down and kisses you firmly, arms still wrapped around you.

Your entire relationship is built off of signals like these. You two just seem to know when the other wants something, whether it be a hug or a kiss, or something more. It made things easy.

So you were also sure that Spencer knew that this kiss was making your heart literally melt. It’s like he can reach in through your sternum and hold your heart until it dissolves in his hands. You can feel it dripping through the cracks into your bloodstream until your legs are jelly and your head is spinning.

You pull away for air and rest your head on his chest.

“How about we compromise and I do it tomorrow?” He asks softly.

Your mouth creates an uncomfortable line. “I know I’m obviously not the boss of you, so feel free to do whatever it is you want…” You pause, trying to find the words. “I just feel like it’s important for me to not take you away from your work at all.”

It wasn’t the complete truth, but it wasn’t completely askew from what you meant to say.

The real, slightly more selfish truth was that you felt like it was easier to send Spencer off to do his work than to try and understand why he wouldn't always want to. You constantly felt so raw and open around him. Like he could always see you and your melting heart. It was insanely scary and new, and not easy at all.

That was not something you were willing to admit today, not right now.

“No, you're not the boss of me, but I do think you have opinions worth listening to and considering.” He kisses the top of your head. He pushes your hair back and looks you directly in the eye. “But I also really don’t want you to feel like you can’t ask me for things. Being in the BAU requires a sort of responsibility. Not to just do my work by the time it’s needed, but to also take breaks and spend time with the people I want to be around. Whether it’s to catch spiders or to give her kisses. Okay?” He checks.

“Okay,” you say quietly. He looks at you patiently, knowing that you had more feelings in your heart but also knowing that it was hard to come out and say it. It was a topic for another night, a braver night. He dips his head down to you, and smiles, almost excitedly.

“Ice cream?” You smile too at the change of topic, and nod.

“Can we get changed first?”

In your bedroom, you throw on a massive white T-shirt that you may or may not have stolen from Spencer many weeks ago, along with a pair of shorts. You turn your head over your shoulder to where Spencer was digging around in his bag. “Did you pack comfy clothes? I know we didn’t discuss sleeping over or anything,” you ask.

“Uh, yeah, do you have a shirt I could borrow?” he responds, not looking up. You dig through your drawers and toss him one of his own shirts, this one Dr. Who themed and navy blue. It lands on his face and he swats it away. “Hey, I was wondering where this went!” He exclaims, looking up at you, offended. He takes notice of your shirt, and stands up straight and moves toward you, feeling your shirt between his fingers. “This too. Theft is in fact a crime.” You blush bashfully in response.

“I like your shirts. They’re cuter than mine,” you argue. He shakes his head, smiling. Soon enough, you're on the couch, working on a pint of Tonight Dough.

Your legs are intertwined and you’re laying on his chest, trying to get to the ice cream he was teasing you with, moving away as you chase it with the spoon. “Stop it,” you giggle. He wrestles the spoon from your grip and digs it in the ice cream.

“Open,” he says quietly. You do so, savoring the taste.

You stay like that for a good while longer, just holding each other, until you break the silence.

“Thanks for making time for me tonight,” you whisper, giving him a soft kiss on his chin. He looks at you and gives you a kiss on your forehead. A meaningful one. One that said a few things that were too scary to say.

It was nice, knowing that you had time to figure out your emotions, that there was no hurry. Your problems and insecurities would still be there tomorrow. You could choose to ignore them for a bit. You could look away from the fact that you weren’t exactly sure why Spencer picked you out of all the other girls. Spencer could ignore the fact that going to work was the most terrifying thing because he finally had something to lose. You could just stay like that, intertwined, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

You let the rest of the ice cream melt on the couch side table, not unlike your heart, neither of you strong enough to get up and put it back in the freezer.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader

[waterfallofspace]

Quality got shot bc the file was too big ;-; but hopefully it's still acceptable~ Also I wasn't actually sick for this, but I gave the coughing an attempt~

C/huuya comes to his office in the morning to find a disturbance awaiting his arrival. Figures he would show up when C/huuya has a cold.

Been working on this for awhile, and want to dedicate/gift it to @onetrickponi since their amazing wavs inspired me to start doing my own~ since I began they made me a BEAUTIFUL U/ndertaker sketch that lives in my head, so consider this thanks for that too!! (It's not nearly as amazing, but maybe you can get a hint of enjoyment anyways~)

#waterfallwav #wavs are so fun to me but apppaaarently almost 10 minutes was a biiit too much #Also not suuuuper thrilled with how their voices came out #but first tries and all that! hopefully it'll be an alright contribution~! #I had fun making/writing it anyways~~ #sucks bout the quality #but im hopeful it doesnt take away from the wav TOO much #anyways thank you so much to anyone who bothers to listen #and extra special thanks to anyone who may leave a comment or tag!! i always read them all~~ #b/sd #s/oukoku #c/huuya #d/azai #aaaaaaand now I'm off to sleep~

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #ollixallu #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw #everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖 #it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏 #but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂 #so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭 #some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌 #(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀) #some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out! #(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3) #however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀 #there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone #one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨ #also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3 #probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol #anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3

[wolves-in-the-world]

I am never not thinking about hardison and eliot looking at each other while parker changes in the elevator and turning away once it's immediately clear the other dude's spooked too

#am I reading a lot into a tiny moment: yes #do I wholeheartedly believe it: 100% #just that barest hint of dudes prepared to keep other dudes in check #(pausing to picture for my health eliot smacking a military buddy on the back of the head #for saying something shitty #shelley is allowed at team poker games because he did that to eliot once) #leverage #for me this is one of those shows where you're trying to pin down what's weird about it #and you realise ages in you're not low key worried on behalf of the vulnerable characters #'cos we're shown from so early on that these characters are Safe #—and THEN eliot and parker standing close to each other while changing is an entirely DIFFERENT kind of safe #the one that says it isn't a big deal to either of them so they're not gonna be weird about it— #listen I'm just slightly feral about it alright #do you know how much it bothers me that I'm not totally convinced the last episode elevator scene even HAPPENED #nate is not a reliable narrator folks we never SEE the actual thing #but the cosiness and flirtiness and humour and respect of it kills me #that is all <3 #dug out of my drafts because it is Time To Vibe #[tags have been copied over in a reblog]

[aquarian-airhead]

speaking of cannibalism and the act of killing being equivalent to that of sacrificing, I'm reconsidering my dietary habits

#I don't personally kill what I eat and that significantly bothers me #I'm so pathetic I can't even hunt to feed myself. I'm a disgrace #ragnavaldr don't look at me please #also I wish soy didn't give me the runs and forced naps #filterable posts #all consumption is basically sacrifice to extend one's life #I'd rather sacrifice plants if I have to sacrifice anything #then again it's not as if I'm a farmer lol #.... this is where I disclose that I may or may not have struggled with moral OCD. #also am I accidentally in favour of just dying lmao. #alright. back to the actual business. I think I want to gradually drop out of eating any animal I haven't handled myself. #for personal reasons. #like let's start with that instead of whatever divine madness I just gave in earlier tags

[armxnh]

i know we just met, but i love you

synopsis: love at first sight with the tokyo revengers men.

characters: manjiro 'mikey' sano, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno

genre: fluff

warnings: none (i think...?)

masterlist.

manjiro 'mikey' sano

"ken-chinnnn" the leader of the toman whined at his taller friend. draken rolled his eyes in response, "no mikey, drop it."

"come onnnn-" the said man pouted exaggeratedly, "what did i do wrong?"

"nothing." the delinquent replied taking his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, "you just don't need to eat twenty-five taiyaki."

"sorry to bother you but there are a lot of people who are waiting take their orders so if you could-" daiki, as it was written on his name tag, tried to cut them off from behind the counter.

for the past ten minutes, the two delinquents were arguing about their order. draken wanted to buy mikey five taiyaki, while mikey wanted his friend to buy him twenty-five of them.

draken turned his head to the cashier, "yeah, so five taiyaki and-"

"twenty-five taiyaki." "damn you-"

"hurry up! unlike other people, some of us have important things to do!" a customer yelled from the back of the line.

manjiro snapped his head to the back of the line, narrowing his eyes at the older man who had just yelled at him. "see now you're making people angry, mikey. 'm not gonna spend ¥5,272 on snacks."

"i need to eat a lot if i want to be taller!"

"for the last time. you won't get taller! you are at your maximum height!"

"alright! i'm not going through this again." a soft voice cut both of them before they could start the same argument they had 2 minutes ago. "daiki, i'll pay for their order- just make his goddamn snacks, please."

when manjiro turned to look at the person who 'saved his life', he felt like he has just died and miraculously came back to life as he made eye contact with you.

you were... pretty.

his eyes were set on you, taking in every single detail he could as if he was scared to forget how you look the second he'll look away.

"thank you, but that's not necessary!" draken politely thanked you as you grabbed your fidelity card of the small shop.

"don't worry about it! after all, those fidelity points have to be used for something." you waved him off, looking back at daiki, "could you also add my regular oder with that, please daiki?"

"o-of course, (y/n)!" the young worker quickly tapped your oder in the computer, a red hue covering his cheeks when you smiled at him.

"mikey, what do you say?" draken looked at his friend, hinting him to thank you, but his words fell into deaf ears as mikey kept looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.

"mikey?" He nudged the said man's shoulder trying to snap him out of his thoughts, only to be ignored once more.

the tall blond dropped the smile as he turned to his friend hitting the side of his head, finally snapping him out of his thoughts, "mikey!"

"um? what?" mikey barely glanced at draken when he responded, his heartbeat increasing when you looked back at him with your receipt in hand.

"i said, what do you say to the girl who just bought you your snacks?" he replied, glancing between the two of you clearly wondering why his friend was acting weird all of the sudden.

"marry me."

ken ryuguji never whipped his head to look at his friend so fast in his life. What the hell did he just said?!

you felt your face warm up at his words, chuckling as you walk past him, placing your hand on his shoulder, "do you ask every girl who buys you snacks to marry you?"

manjiro felt like he was in heaven when you stood closer to him. how can someone be so pretty and be so nice and smell so good and be so pretty at the same time.

"what?" toman's leader came back down to earth when you handed him the box filled of taiyaki. "did i say that out loud?" manjiro mumbled, frowning to himself. before looking back at you, just to see you making your way outside. "hey- wait!"

he tossed the snacks at draken jogging to meet you outside of the shop. "w-wait!"

you turned to look at him, the soft summer breeze sweating through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open, "yes?"

"you're (y/n), right?" he asked remembering how the cashier called you when you were ordering, "i'm mikey..." he wanted to say something else but the words got caught in his throat when you smiled at him.

"nice to meet you, mikey" you replied before your eyes drifted behind him to the small group of guys that were looking at the two of you intensely, the 'ken-chin' guy from earlier standing with them. "i think your friends are waiting for you"

manjiro glanced back to see his best friends looking at them with knowing looks on their faces, "never mind them- this is- you are more important."

you looked away from him, his intense eye contact making your face feel warm, "you really know how to talk to girls you know?"

"thank you for earlier... the snacks and all..."

"that was 2 months worth of fidelity points- you better eat every single one of those taiyaki" you playfully warned the gang leader.

"don't worry about that..!" mikey replied knowing damn well that he will inhale those snacks. "can i walk you home? it's going to get dark soon- wouldn't want my wife to get attacked or something!"

wife?!

you suppress a smile at his words, "of course, wouldn't want it to get dark at 2 pm, and then get attacked by who knows what next to a bakery."

"exactly! let's go, wifey!"

takashi mitsuya

"what did you say you're brother's name was?" you asked the crying girl in front of you.

"...t- taka-shi" the small girl sobbed in your shoulder as you gently patted her head.

"alright and what's your name?" you gently asked as you scanned the area trying to find someone who looked like they had just lost their child.

"i- i- i'm mana"

"you have a really pretty name, you know?" you smiled fondly at the girl as you whipped the tears of her face with your thumbs.

"really?"

"heck yeah! it's a badass name!" you felt relief wash over you when you saw a smile spread across the kid's face, "i'm (y/n) and i'm gonna help you find your brother alright?"

"thank you..." she mumbled quietly.

"you're going to hop on my shoulders and tell me when you see your brother okay?" the girl looked up at you with stars in her eyes, you pulled mana on your shoulder, her small hands on your head.

you walked for a good 15 minutes before mana tapped your head with on hand while the other pointed toward an unknown man in the crowd of person, "they're there! that's draken!"

draken? wasn't her brother's name takashi? you wondered as you put mana to the ground your hand grabbing hers just in case she got lost again.

"mana!" a little girl's voice called out as you arrived next to the very tall guy with a dragon tattoo on his head. the small girl that looked very similar to mana hugged tightly the younger girl.

"mitsuya! ' found her" the tall guy called out for someone else behind him. the 'mitsuya' guy appeared from behind the 'draken' guy not long after he called out from him. the purple haired teen practically attacked his sister with a hug, sighing in relief.

"don't ever do that again, mana." he gently scaled his younger sister, "you could've gotten lost and we would've been really sad, al-?"

"it's fine! (y/n) helped me find you!" she pointed her finger at her. mitsuya ruffled his sister's hair, before straightening up to thank the person that help his mini-him, "thank you so mu..."

he felt like the world had stopped moving. like it was only the two of them in the middle of the festival. takashi mitsuya was in a trance. he was simply mesmerized by the sight of you.

"it's no problem, really! " you softly smiled at him, "your sister is a real angel-"

anything else you said after wasn't even registered but the delinquent in front of you. he was usually so good at this- talking to people was what he did best so... why couldn't he utter a single word for you.

his cheeks were red, his palm were sweaty, why was he anxious?- he was hanging on everything you did. even if he felt like he had forgotten how to speak, your voice felt like melody to his ears.

he snapped out of his trance when someone nudge his shoulder. mitsuya glanced at draken beside him, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone and that you were talking to him.

you looked at him with a puzzled look, "are you alright?

your question made him overthink about everything that happened in the last 2 minutes of your meeting. Did he look like a creep?

"i- i- great."

the hell was that takashi? he cursed himself.

darken cleared his throat, holding back his laugh. he brought his fist to his mouth faking coughs as he muttered a small, "real smooth, mitsuya".

you chuckled at his friend's comment, making mitsuya straighten up, you pulled out your hand for him to shake.

"let's start over, alright? i'm (y/n)... you're takashi right?"

draken stepped up clearly expecting his friend to be to lost in space to answer you, "he prefers mitsuya-"

"takashi's fine!" the said man interjected, as he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it, sending one of his pretty smile in your direction.

"i-"

"are you going to marry my brother?" he couldn't catch a break could he? luna asked you with big eyes.

you chuckled softly at her words, "how about this... i will give my number to your brother. then we'll go out to eat something to talk about marriage alright?"

"yes!" the girl tightly hugged your leg as you said that.

"does that sound like a plan to you, takashi?" yes!

mitsuya hurriedly started to look in his pocket for a pen, when draken pulled one out of his pocket with a piece of paper and handed it to the purple haired boy, "there you go, casanova"

takashi handed you the paper and the pen, before you wrote your name with your phone number on it.

"see y'a soon, taka! bye, mana don't get lost again alright?"

as soon as you were out of sight takashi turned to draken with a stern look, "not a word about this, alright?"

"you're crazy!" draken crackled putting his hand in his pocket, "i'm going to tell everyone!"

"draken!"

"as your wingman i feel like it's my responsibility-"

"no it is not!"

chifuyu matsuno

"hurry up, chifuyu!" takemichi yelled at his friend. they couldn't be late. not for that.

"how come you are slow as hell during a fight, yet you sprint your life on a sunday at 8 am?" the blond joked as he calmly walked behind takemichi with not a care in the world.

"come on! we're gonna be late!" he repeated hurriedly before stopping abruptly while looking around him.

"late to what?" chifuyu yawned, before looking at his friend, who stood there looking around, up and down as if his brain had finally snapped, "you alright?"

"alright stand here and don't move." takemichi moved the delinquent around so that he would stand in the middle of a park- an empty park.

"did you finally snapped or...?" he asked when the time traveler started to back away from him, "are you going to kill me? is this really how it's gonna end-"

"watch out!"

a voice yelled, but it was too late.

a ball directly hit his face, knocking chifuyu to the dirty ground, his eyes closing due to the shock.

it took him a couple of seconds before finally opening his eyes again, only to realize that he was in heaven. the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life held his head in her hands, her index and middle finger pressed against the front of his neck just below his jaw- making sure that his heart was still beating.

"oh- thank god! you're not dead!"

"are you an angel?" chifuyu mumbled placing his hand on top of yours- making sure you were real, "am i in heaven?"

you let a breathy chuckle at his words, "you're cute- but no you're not dead... i kicked a ball in your face- unintentionally of course!"

his eyes finally focused on you, remembering what had happened. he blinked a couple of time, his eyes scanning your face- a pretty girl's face... so close to his face with her hands on his face and his hands on her hand-

what?!

chifuyu's face became as red a tomato straitening his posture to apologize for touching you without your authorization, "i'm so sorry-"

his head came in contact with your head, making you pull back immediately from the blond. "ow! i told you i didn't do it on purpose!" you groan holding your head with your hands.

chifuyu gasped in horror at his own clumsiness as he placed a hand on the back of your head. hopping that the coldness of it would help you a little, "i'm sorry! i swear i didn't mean it! please hit me again so that we're even!"

...what? now why would he say that?

"what? what's wrong with you?! do you get turn on by getting hit or something?!"

chifuyu panically looked around to search takemichi so that he could help him. when he finally spotted him, hiding behind the swings, the time traveler was smiling proudly with his two thumbs up in the air.

his action making him recall a conversation the two of them had a couple of weeks earlier.

"so... am i married in the future?" chifuyu asked takemichi as he bit down the sandwich he made himself for lunch.

takemichi raised his brows at the question, "yeah-"

"really?!" the blond gasped, with heart in his eyes, "do i know her?! no wait- that'll ruin the surprise- is she pretty?! no wait- of course she's pretty you idiot!"

the time traveler chuckled at his friend's words, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you want me to tell you how you met?"

"no! it has to be a surprise!" chifuyu refused, "wait am i going to meet her soon? is that why you said that?! takemichi?! answer!"

"nah- like you said it has to be a surprise~"

"takemichi!"

"if it makes you feel better- you embarrassed yourself in front of her"

"how would that make me feel better?!"

that sneaky bastard.

"i'm sorry! i don't know how to talk to pretty girls..." chifuyu mumbled looking to the ground, but his face snapped back at you when he realize what he had just say, your eyes round at his words, "i- i mean not that don't know how to talk you! wait- not that you're not pretty! you are pretty- beautiful even! but that is not the point! i don't need you to hit me! just please don't think i hurt you on purpose- i don't hit pretty girls! no wait- i don't hit girls at all! but you being beautifully-pretty is just a plus you know! an-"

you smacked your hand on his mouth, stopping his rambling, the butterflies in your stomach flying way to much due to his words. "please stop-! you're too cute..."

takemichi titled his head at the scene in front of him, clearly not remembering that part of the story your older self told him in the future about how chifuyu and her had met-

but... mission failed successfully... i guess?

ⓒarmxnh

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno #takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya #manjiro x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro sano

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

-

part three

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

[huskersbooze]

Who's in Control?

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : swear words

Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)

Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off

Word count : 1.8k

"Good morning, dear."

"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.

"How was your sleep, darling?"

"It was good! And yours?"

"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."

The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.

-----

You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.

And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.

He was growing a soft-spot for you.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.

Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.

But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.

“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.

“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”

“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.

“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”

“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”

“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”

“Al and I are just friends.”

“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”

“Still, we're just friends-”

“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”

“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”

The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.

“He owns my soul..?”

“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”

“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”

You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.

But you were confused.

“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”

“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”

“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”

“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”

“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.

“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”

“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”

“About..?”

“What it means to sell your soul.”

“I know what it means, Al said-”

“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”

“Because you like your job..?”

“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”

“Who..?”

“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”

And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.

He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.

He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.

He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.

And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.

“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”

“Yup.” Angel nods.

“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”

“Exactly.” Husk replies.

“And there's no escaping this contract..?”

“No.” The two reply together.

“Fuck.”

-----

“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.

There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”

“You alright, kid?”

“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.

The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.

And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.

“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.

Everyone turns their attention towards her.

Everyone but Alastor.

He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.

How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?

But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?

He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.

Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”

“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.

Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.

“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.

“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.

“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?

“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”

“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.

Alastor stiffens, then laughs.

“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”

“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”

You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.

Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.

What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?

“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.

Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.

“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”

You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”

“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”

“Dear, please, listen to me..!”

“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”

He pauses.

“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.

-----

“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”

“About the deal?”

“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”

“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."

“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.

“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”

Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”

“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”

“I surely hope you're correct."

———/ TBC. /———

READ PART 2 HERE

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fluff #alastor x you #alastor hazbin x reader #radio demon #huskerdust #hazbin hotel angel #angel dust #angel hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #husker #husk #angel dust x husk #hazbin husk #overlords

[4ngel-inc]

࿔*:･ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 ࿐

tags — [ MDNI / 18+ ], fem reader, a little angsty but all with happy endings, fluff but suggestive & some dirty talk !! ᰔ

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 feels a knife in his chest when he sees you hugging someone else—he knows the two of you have only been dating a short time, but in his mind, you're the one. he wants you forever, but now you've gone and fallen for someone else. he immediately contemplates killing the other person, but he decides against it—that was his past self, he's changed now. it takes a lot for him to be completely vulnerable around you at first, so it's difficult expressing that he's jealous. "bella, are you still happy with me?" he hates the slight quiver in his voice, but he needs to know. "huh? 'f course i am, osamu, why'd you ask me that?" you pull him in for a soft kiss, just lips touching gently, before pulling away, "something bothering you?" before he can even bring up the other guy, he realizes how silly he's been, shaking himself out of his own self-loathing—"ah, nothing, just wanted to make sure. wanna go out for a coffee or something? you look so pretty today, i'm sure i'm not the only one who noticed. i want to show you off, angel." you roll your eyes, so that's it. "you think someone else thinks i'm pretty?" there's a long pause, but you know what he's thinking, "babe, he's just a friend. you're my everything, y'know that, right?" he sighs, pulling you into his lap, "you figured me out, huh? i can never hide around you, why is that?" he seems to be asking himself rather than you, but you answer anyways, "because i love you, and you love me—our hearts are tied together, i always know what you're thinking, like now," you reach down to stroke him through his pants, pleased to find him already hard, "why don't i remind you how much i love you, huh?"

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 tries to look away when he sees you talking to another guy at a party the mafia is having, disgusted by the way the man smiles at you so slyly, clearly interested in you—but you've always been so adorably oblivious to how other people look at you with such admiration and lust, completely unaware of your own beauty. he's used to others flirting with you, but what is surprising is that you seem to be quite interested in the conversation, despite the way the man is slowly moving closer to you with each passing second. are you into him? no, you couldn't be—chuuya is your everything, you've told him as much many times, and though he's never been one to surrender to insecurity, after working for the mafia for so many years, he doesn't really trust anyone except you. it isn't long before he's approaching you, and though he wants to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in, he hesitates. "everything alright?" "oh, chuuya! yes, everything's great. [name] here was just telling me about his most recent mission, it's quite fascinating." when he gets a bit closer, chuuya realizes he recognizes the man, and gently tugs on your arm, "come on, love, let's go." you're a little surprised but follow him anyways, waving goodbye to your new acquaintance. "chuuya? what's wrong?" your heels click on the floor quickly before chuuya presses your back into a hidden corner of the room, kissing you deeply and passionately. you're breathless when he pulls away, "that guy's a scumbag, you deserve better." you're utterly confused at his words—you've always been chuuya's—but your thoughts escape you when his lips are on yours again, and you choose not to question it, gently tugging at his belt before suggesting the two of you retire to your room for the evening. "i'm not sure what's bothering you, but i'll fix it, babe."

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 hates himself for it, but he's a little jealous when you rave about your new favorite anime character. he's your background on your phone and the inspiration for a few plushies on your bed, and though he doesn't feel threatened, he wishes your attention was on him instead. the last thing he wants is to be controlling—it just isn't in his nature—he loves that you have hobbies you enjoy so much! but you've been distracted lately, and he's been missing your sweet kisses and cuddles. he never thought he'd find himself growing so soft, he has such a weakness for you that makes him nervous, but he's been so busy and stressed about work lately—your pretty eyes locked with his as you snuggle up against him, looking up at him and running your hand through his hair with all the love in the world in your eyes, would be a salve to all of his worries. it isn't really a decision when he brings it up, it just comes out one day, "would you be open to me watching this show with you? i'd like to be a part of this new interest of yours, since it makes you. . . so happy." you easily detect the discouraged tone in his voice, and click the tv off. "c'mere, ryu, what's wrong?" "nothing," he states matter-of-factly, but you understand the implication behind his tone—he's been lonely. "why don't we spend the day together?" you run your fingers through his hair, "your hair's a little messy, want me to cut it for you? i'll make you dinner, too, what are you in the mood for?" his heart swells at your offer, "i'd really enjoy that, i've missed you lately. i've been working too much, but i'm glad you've been keeping busy."

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 always thought you were his—from the moment you told him you'd be his girlfriend, you were his greatest treasure, he told himself he'd never do anything to lose you. but when he sees you laughing and twirling your hair with a new guy, he can only assume that's the case. he must have done something wrong—worked too much, didn't tell you you're pretty enough, something. it seems like you're having fun with this new person—sigma tells himself he never made you smile that way, doesn't make you laugh as hard, and he's ashamed of that. when you two crawl into bed later that night, you notice sigma doesn't seem as cuddly or affectionate as usual. "baby? something wrong?" he frowns, but shakes his head 'no' anyways. "i'm fine, just tired." you aren't buying it, and when he wraps the blanket around himself, his body laid on the edge of the bed, as far away from you as possible, you need to know—he's your sweetest love, you can't bear the thought of him suffering. you sit up and flick on the light, "baby, please talk to me. did i do something?" he sighs, but eventually decides to open up to you, and you're happy to tell him your "new guy" is only a friend—sigma is the one you really want, and truthfully, he's a little embarrassed he thought otherwise. "i'm sorry, love, i guess i'm just insecure." you brush your fingers over his cheek, "you're not insecure, sweetie, you just love me—and i love you, just as much. i'm never letting you go, you're everything i've ever wanted." he smiles and finally snuggles into you, "thank you for loving me, i don't deserve you."

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊ #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #akutagawa x reader #sigma x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #bsd smut #bsd headcanons #osamu dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai smut #chuuya smut #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍

Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader

Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.

Word count : 3.2k

Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.

A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn

masterlist

ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.

'Hello?'

'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.

'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.

'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'

You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.

'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'

-

You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.

Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.

You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.

-

Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.

'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.

'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.

'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.

'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.

You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.

You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.

His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.

'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.

'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.

He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.

'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.

'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.

Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.

'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.

He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.

You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.

'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'

'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.

'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.

'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.

'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.

'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.

'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.

'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.

'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.

'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.

'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.

That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.

'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.

'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.

He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.

'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.

'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.

'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.

'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.

'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.

At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.

One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.

'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.

He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.

'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.

'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.

'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.

'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.

'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.

'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.

'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.

After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.

'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.

'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.

'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.

Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.

You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.

'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.

'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.

'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.

'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.

'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.

'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.

'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.

'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.

'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.

'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'

He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.

'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.

'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.

'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.

'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.

'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.

'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.

'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.

'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.

'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.

'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.

'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.

'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.

'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.

'You little-'

♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3

#silentcryracha #stray kids bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan #skz scenarios #bang chan smut #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x you #chan x reader #chan smut #chan skz #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff

[runnning-outof-time]

Change His Ways | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy falls for a woman out of his reach and does whatever it takes to get closer to her.

Warnings: Tommy’s certainly not canon here, language, smoking, religious themes (Tommy goes to church)

Word Count: 4025

A/N: I dusted this WIP off because I was itching to keep writing after I finished my celebration blurbs. The idea has Tommy ooc, but it was one that I just had to write down while reading a book - I’ll share a bit more about it down below for those who are interested (it’s based on a true story). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this one!

Tommy's world stopped the second he saw her. She was in Polly's main room, gathering her cleaning supplies as he stepped into the home. He watched from the doorway as she tried, but failed, to take them all into her arms, the bucket and broom falling to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Gray," she quickly apologized to the woman standing next to the fireplace for the commotion, crouching down to - try and - gather it once more. Polly didn't say anything, only watching on as the younger woman struggled.

"Let me help you, miss," Tommy spoke up, balancing the cigarette he was smoking between his lips before he stepped over to her, leaning down to grab the stick of the broom before she could.

"Oh, thank you, mister," she smiled over at him, her (y/e/c) eyes instantly mesmerizing Tommy. He almost forgot what he was doing.

"Where do these need to go?" he asked after clearing his throat and pulling himself from his thoughts.

"Just outside. My father's picking me up," she responded, smiling over at him gratefully. He felt like she had knocked the wind out of him.

"Alright then," he nodded, standing in time with her and taking a bucket from her full hands so that she'd have less to carry. He then let her lead him out to where an older looking farm-typed truck was waiting. The man sitting in the driver's seat just glared at Tommy, who ignored his presence altogether. "Should be it," he remarked as he sat the broom and bucket into the back of the truck.

"Thank you, really," the woman smiled at him.

"You're welcome," Tommy nodded politely before she got in the truck and he walked back up the path to his aunt's house. Polly was standing in the entryway with her arms crossed when Tommy re-entered the house. "What, Pol?" he questioned, brushing past her into the main room.

"She's a good woman, Thomas," she heeded a warning. A warning that Tommy disregarded completely.

Tommy showed up at Polly's every day for a week until he figured out what times the unnamed, beautiful woman was present at the house. And each time she was, he would help her with the things that she needed to carry out to her father's truck.

He didn't quite get to his destination today because the very person he was looking forward to seeing was walking along the sidewalk about three blocks from his aunt's house. He slowed down his car with his brow furrowed, and bent his head down to look at her. "All ok?" he asked after he watched her take a few more struggled steps. "Your father coming to pick you up?"

"Not today," she shook her head, the tone of her voice showing how much she was struggling to keep everything in her arms. "He's been held up at the farm."

Tommy was out of his car the second he heard her answer. He walked around the side of it with a quickened pace before he took the bigger cleaning supplies from her arms. "I can take you home," he offered, already opening the back door of his car before she gave him an answer to set the supplies he'd taken inside.

"Oh I can't bother you like that," she tried to decline his offer politely, but Tommy didn't want to hear it.

"I insist," he stressed, his eyebrows raised slightly to show his seriousness. He held his eyes on her and saw her weary expression form into a smile. She nodded her head in agreement before he opened the passenger's side door for her to get into the car. Once she was in, he shut the door and walked back around to the driver's side.

"Do you have a name, sir?" she asked him almost immediately after he'd sat in the front seat, "because I feel like I should know the name of the man that has so kindly offered me a ride."

"It's Thomas Shelby," he said, clearing his throat before adding: "you can call me Tommy though."

The woman smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, Tommy. Thank you for driving me home," she spoke politely. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," she added, her cheeks heating up slightly when she realized that she hadn't formally introduced herself to him.

"It's nice to officially meet you as well, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but smile as he tried her name out for himself, "and there's no need to thank me...the pleasure's all mine here," he concluded his sentence by turning his car back on and pulling away from the sidewalk so that he could take her home.

There was an older man leaning up against the side of a rusted farm truck as Tommy pulled into the driveway that (Y/N) said was hers. He looked rather intimidating standing there, and if Tommy wasn't in the line of work that he was, he definitely would have been put off by him.

"Hi, daddy," (Y/N) smiled as she got out of the car so that she could grab her supplies from the back. She was too slow, however, because Tommy already had it in his hands.

"Where do you want this?" he asked her.

"Just by the shed over there," she answered as she motioned to said shed, "I can place them where they need to go later." Tommy nodded and then walked the short distance so that he could rest the supplies against the wall of the shed. "Thank you, Tommy," she sent him a bright smile once he'd finished.

"You're welcome," he nodded, deciding that being paid in her smiles would be better than any lump sum of money he could ever receive.

"You Thomas Shelby?" (Y/N)'s father then came into the situation, his voice making Tommy's expression go serious as he turned to face the older man.

"I am," he nodded, extending his hand.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" her father got right to the point, glancing at the hand but not shaking it.

Tommy found himself feeling like a young boy again, and it made him wonder just how interested he was in (Y/N) for him to be feeling like this. "I brought her home. She was struggling with carrying the supplies," he explained himself.

The older man looked Tommy up and down before nodding slightly. "Ok," was all he said before he turned and started to walk over to one of the barns on the property.

"Thank you, Tommy," (Y/N) sent him another smile, pulling him out of the confused stupor that was brought on by the previous conversation. "I hope you make it home safely."

"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he responded, loving how her name sounded coming from his mouth. He then returned her wave before he walked to his car and got into it, backing down the driveway and away from the beautiful woman who was standing and watching him leave.

"I think you're a bloody idiot for coming up with that idea," Polly spoke her mind after Tommy had finished explaining to her where he'd gone a few days ago.

"That's why I'm doing it properly," Tommy tried to work a different angle.

"Properly or not, the (Y/L/N)'s are a God-fearing family, and I can't remember the last time you stepped into a church with the intent of speaking to the Maker," she remarked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. Tommy sighed in response, shaking his head as he brought the cigarette back up to his mouth. He and Polly then stared at each other for a few moments before the woman sighed and hung her head, "but you'll still give it a try anyway," she stated in defeat, knowing just by his glance alone that her nephew's mind was made up.

Tommy cleared his throat as he stood from the chair in Polly's living room. He grabbed his coat and pulled it over his shoulders so that he was ready to leave the house. Polly tried to call after him, but he wasn't listening to her words as he opened the door and exited the dwelling. After getting in the car and starting its engine, he began driving to (Y/N)'s house with the full intention of winning her father over.

"You cannot court my daughter," (Y/N)'s father spoke firmly from where he sat across from Tommy in the front room.

"She's a very lovely woman, and I will be a gentleman to her," he tried to sway the older man, laying on the Shelby charm in full force, "all I am asking is for a date with her." If only his family could hear him now.

"If you want to see my daughter, you'll see her at church," her father decided, nodding his head once to show his decision was final.

"Mr. (Y/L/N)..."

"Save it, Shelby," the older man cut Tommy off, standing to leave the conversation. Tommy watched him walk, knowing there was nothing more that could be done. He also stood, showing himself out. He looked to the farmhouse after opening the door to his car and saw (Y/N) standing in one of the second floor windows. A sigh escaped his lips. He knew what to do.

Tommy met the (Y/L/N)'s at their church that Sunday. No one bothered to question how he knew where they worshiped, and he was thankful that he didn't need to explain.

They all sat in the same pew, Tommy to the right of (Y/N), of course, while her father sat on her left. He didn't listen much to the sermons, or participate in singing along with the choir.

He did, however, try to get even closer to (Y/N). After a few glances down, he slowly inched his hand closer to her lap. At first he attempted to take hold of her hand. She moved it away the second she felt his fingers brush hers. But she didn't look his way though, still focused on what the preacher was saying. So he let his hand stay there. Instead of holding hers, he flipped his palm down and draped his fingers over the curve of her thigh.

His hand had just started to warm from her body heat when he felt a sharp, but silent, smack land on the back of it. It made him remove his hand and quickly look her way. She was still looking straight ahead. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his brows furrowed. He was sure that he hadn't imagined that; she'd just smacked him.

The feeling of his eyes on her made (Y/N) glance to her right. She knew he wouldn't look away until he addressed her. But her father would instantly know that her attention had been taken off of the message being told. Ever-so-slowly, she leaned closer to Tommy, getting close enough so that he could hear her whisper. "There should be no touching in the Lord's house. It's considered blasphemy."

Tommy couldn't respond because she sat straight again the second she finished speaking. He took one last look at her before looking straight again, his hand resting on his thigh once again.

Tommy continued going to church with (Y/N) and her family every Sunday, and eventually they got into a routine of him walking her back home.

Every Sunday, they'd stop at the beginning of her dirt driveway, and she'd thank him with a kiss on his cheek. They'd then say their goodbyes and she'd begin walking to her house. Tommy would stay and watch, waiting until she was on her porch before he left.

This Sunday was different. (Y/N) was unusually quiet on the way home. The walk that was normally filled with her sweet laughter and entertaining stories was now overruled by silence.

They stopped at the end of her driveway, and (Y/N) turned so that she could face him. Tommy's eyes were immediately on her, and he noticed that she was looking at the ground. "I won't be in church next Sunday," she finally spoke, playing with her fingers in hopes it'd give her something to focus on. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes then, seeing that he was looking out at the fields for a moment. Thinking now'd be the best time to say goodbye, she lifted her head and leaned in to press her lips to his cheek.

Tommy turned to talk to her at that same moment, and he was met with the most rewarding accident he'd ever been given in his life when his lips met hers. The kiss was soft, quick, and innocent. Too quick for his liking.

(Y/N) pulled back with a gasp the second she realized what was happening. She looked at him then, her eyes now opened wide; looking as if she'd just seen a ghost, or a horrible crime be committed. I've fucked this up, Tommy thought to himself, the breath caught in his throat. The worst part about it was that he didn't quite know what to say that could make the situation better.

So he just stared at (Y/N), watching as her eyes searched his for what seemed like eternity. Then, after what felt like forever, (Y/N) leaned in and pressed her lips to his again. She kissed him more soundly this time, and he took hold of her waist to make sure that she wouldn't leave him too soon. When she eventually moved to pull back, he let her, keeping his eyes closed when she stayed close and rested her forehead against his.

"Why?" he asked once their breathing had returned to normal.

"Huh?" she was clearly confused by his sudden question, and she finally pulled back to look at him once more, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Why won't you be there, love?" he asked with a soft laugh, squeezing her waist softly as he remembered that he was still holding onto her.

Realization struck her and her confusion melted into a sheepish smile, remembering what they were talking about before the kiss happened. "My family and I are traveling to see my grandparents. We'll go to the service at their church since we'll be staying through the weekend," she explained the reason behind her initial statement.

"Should I find you there?" he asked her then, wondering if he could still make things work. He'd been seeing her every Sunday for a month and a half now, and he'd be lying if he said that he didn't look forward to it every week.

"There's no need for that, Tommy," she giggled, her stomach filling with butterflies at the sweetness of his voice. "I'll be home before you know it."

"Then I'll be waiting," he nodded, showing his sincerity as he squeezed her waist once more, his actions making her smile. His eyes flitted down to her lips then, their closeness and inviting nature becoming paramount in his mind again. "Can I?" he asked permission before doing anything, something he never could have imagined himself doing weeks ago.

"Please do," she smiled at him, her hands finding his collar as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers once more.

"Fuck," Tommy huffed, pressing his fingers to his eyes in frustration.

"So what do we do, Tom?" Arthur asked his brother, clasping his peaked cap in his hands. "He's there. He's for the taking. We could just..."

"No," Tommy cut him off abruptly, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands, "no, there'll be problems if we do that."

"Then what?" John chimed in, a bit of an incredulous look present on his face. "We know he did it. He shouldn't get to even think he got away with it."

"We do it another way," Tommy insisted.

"What way?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know yet," Tommy huffed, finally looking at his brothers before he continued, "but you fuckers better not try anything." He accented his direction by pointing at each of the two men as he spoke, his eyes wide to convey his seriousness.

Silence fell in the room then. John and Arthur shared a look before focusing back on their brother. They were both thinking the same thing...but who was going to be the one to say it?

Arthur looked to John again. "Seems like our brother's gotten himself a new perspective," he commented aloud, seeing Tommy's eyes snap to him from the corner of his.

A grin formed on John's face as he heard his older brother speak. Arthur was the one to cast the first stone. Now the floor was wide open. "I think it's because he's been going to that bloody church each weekend," he shared his thoughts on the situation.

Arthur shook his head. "Nah. The only reason he's going there is so he can give that girl a quick shag. You think it'll be worth it, Tom?"

Tommy was now seeing red. "What the fuck are you two going on about? Eh?!"

"That girl from Pol's place. (Y/N), was it?" John answered, even though the previous question was meant to be rhetorical.

"Yeah, yeah. That's her name. She's real pretty," Arthur commented, a smug grin now present.

Tommy couldn't take the comments anymore. He slammed his hand down on the desk, commanding their attention immediately. "Enough!" he bellowed, his eyes wide with anger. "You're not going to talk about her like that. In fact, you're not going fucking to talk about her at all. Understood?" He let out a heavy breath then, looking between the two of them before he swiped at his hair, returning the strands that had fallen over his forehead back to their resting place.

Neither John nor Arthur responded verbally to their brother's statement. Arthur let out a grunt of agreement and John merely nodded, both surprised by the show of emotion they'd just witnessed.

Tommy nodded in response to the silence. "Good. Now go out and figure out how we can get this guy. We need to do it cleanly," he gave them an order, one that made the two of them nod before turning and heading to the door.

John exited without another word, but Arthur stopped with his hand on the door's handle. He looked back to his brother, who had both of his palms placed flat on the desk as he finished recollecting himself.

"She really means something to you, doesn't she?" he broke the silence hanging in the room. His question made Tommy look up. They held eye contact for a few moments. Not a word was said. Arthur got his answer though; he could see it in Tommy's eyes. So instead of prolonging the staring contest, he nodded and exited the office.

Tommy let out a huff as the door shut, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the chair. (Y/N) came to mind then, and he relished in the thought of her as it made his stresses wash away.

Tommy just happened to be sitting out on the floor of the betting shop when the most out of place looking person entered the building. He clocked the man speaking to Scudboat and continued working on the papers in front of him as he tried to listen into the conversation.

"Is Mr. Shelby in?"

"He's busy. You'll need an appointment. That can be arranged with his..."

"I just need to speak to him for a moment."

"You'll need to arrange an..."

"He's fine to speak with me, Scudboat," Tommy cut into the conversation, coming over to where he and (Y/N)'s father were standing by the door.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby," Scudboat bowed his head as he left the conversation, knowing he was no longer needed.

"What can I do for you, Mr. (Y/L/N)?" Tommy asked (Y/N)'s father then, his eyes trained on the man who still looked so out of place.

"I'm not here to spend any money," the older man quickly replied, a rather sour look present on his face.

"I never thought you were," Tommy responded, hoping that his level voice would ease the other man's inhibitions. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked then, his brows furrowing as a feeling of worry washed over him.

Mr. (Y/L/N) looked around the room for a moment before his eyes found Tommy's again. "Can we speak somewhere more private?" he requested, the inflection of his voice not giving Tommy any concrete answer to his question. He hated that.

"We can," the gangster nodded, then moving towards one of the private offices - a little too quickly for his liking. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked again once the two men were behind the closed door.

(Y/N)'s father sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head every so slightly before he began speaking, "I know what you do...and I know that it's not right, nor good..." he started, his eyes darting around the room so he wouldn't have to hold Tommy's stare. "But I've seen you with my daughter, how you've tried to open up and let God into your life..." he paused again, taking another deep breath. Tommy wished he'd say what he needed to already. "She sees something in you that I can not, Mr. Shelby, and I hope that you see something in her that goes beyond physical desire."

"Way beyond, Mr. (Y/L/N)," Tommy was quick to tell him, "she's...she's changed me in ways I'd not thought possible."

"Good," the older man nodded, looking pleased with the response he'd gotten. Silence hung in the air then, and both men stared at each other. It was almost like one was waiting for the other to crack; for the other shoe to fall. Mr. (Y/L/N) was the one to speak first. "You have my blessing. You can court my daughter."

Tommy exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding upon hearing the other man's statement. He immediately extended his hand. "Thank you, Mr. (Y/L/N)."

"Treat her well, Thomas," her father sternly said, accepting the handshake Tommy had offered.

"I will."

Tommy and (Y/N) arrived at the road to (Y/N)'s home, and (Y/N) turned to face him like she always did. She smiled at him, sweetly thanking him for walking her home from church. Tommy smiled at her, tipping his hat and making her giggle - like he usually did. (Y/N) then leaned in and pressed her lips to his, giving him the quick kiss that she'd always leave him with. This time, however, Tommy's hands found her waist and he held her close to him when she pulled away.

"Be mine," he whispered against her lips, pulling back slightly so that his eyes could find hers.

"Tommy," (Y/N) breathed in response to his statement, "my father..."

"He gave me his blessing," he assured her, "will you be mine, (Y/N)?" he asked this time.

A smile spread across (Y/N)'s lips as butterflies erupted in her stomach. This is what she'd been waiting for. Everyone had told her that Tommy Shelby was a man who was to be feared, but that was not the Tommy Shelby that she had the pleasure to know; to get close to. And now he was asking her the question she'd hoped he'd ask ever since the first kiss they shared.

"Yes, Tommy," she answered with a slight nod, excitement bubbling up inside of her, "yes, I'll be yours."

Her words made a smile form on Tommy's face, and instead of saying anything in response, he leaned in and kissed her, showing her how happy he was to hear her answer through the passion he put into the kiss. She was the only person who'd get him to change his ways...and now she was his.

**a little bit about the background: this was based off of a vignette that I read in a book about America in WWI — a man, who was rather rowdy, into no good things, took interest in a woman, and the woman’s father told him that the only way he’d get to court her is if he came to church. The man essentially changed his lifestyle around for her because he was so interested in her and they eventually got married — so just like Tommy, he got the girl.

———

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I love your writing so much!! I'm currently loving your freelance inventor series! I don't see a lot of danny/bruce fics so it's always fun when you post one!! What danny thinks of the justice league, does he think they're just Bruce's extreme sports friends? Or his kids friends parents?

Danny first meets Bruce's extreme sports friends when Dick plans to introduce Wally-his first boyfriend- on a water skiing trip. It went a little hair-walled due to the misunderstanding.

He had been around the manor with some free time, so he asked Bruce if he could join once Dick brought up the trip and made a comment on how important things he needed to talk about.

Usually, Danny wouldn't have bothered, but because it was so long that thier friendship had started he felt like it was a good time to ask.

At first, both the Waynes appeared to be dancing around the subject that, for a second, Danny thought they didn't want him there. Not wanting to make them feel pressured—and a little embarrassed he had assumed he could tag along—he backtracked quickly, making up an excuse about flying out to see Dani.

There was an awkward dinner that evening, so Danny left immediately. He had planned on staying the night at Wayne Manor, but he felt he had overstayed his welcome from his silly request. Instead, he rented a hotel room in the more dangerous parts of the city.

Danny had been on the hotel's phone line all night, attempting to find a plan to take him somewhere close to Dani. He could fly with his powers the rest of the way, but he needed to create some kind of paper trail.

While he listened to the hold music of the airline representative, he felt a wave of shame. At that point, Danny had only known Bruce and Dick for a year- but with various breaks in between visits- and had thought that made them closer. Who did he think he was?

Bruce wanted their relationship to stay as business associates who occasionally hung out but nothing as important as a vacation trip. Danny had just been the idiot who thought himself more important.

Well, he would not be making the same mistake. He would only come back if it involved his work and would find his own lodging from now on. The Waynes had likely not know how to say no to him.

Idiot, Danny thought, pacing in his room and wiping away tears. Idiot. Stupid. Moron. Of course, Bruce Wayne doesn't think of you as a friend! Get a clue!

"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Fenton. A first-class plane ticket to Calais, France, has been booked for you on Monday, July 7th. Would you like to make this a round trip?" the cheerful woman asks him, and he sniffs.

"No. It's a one-way. I won't be coming back here for a while." The words feel like knives in his chest

She doesn't notice as she chirps "Alright then, that has been done for you. Thank you for using Wayne Airlines!"

Ugh, he even used Bruce's planes by accident. At least this will be the last thing he annoys the man with. The following morning, bright and early Danny is out the door with his suit case. He makes it all the way to the lobby where he bumps into a fretting Dick and some red head kid.

"Danny!" Dick cries. He flings himself onto his waist, squeezing with all his might. Danny is flabbergasted. "Danny, I only wanted Bruce to go on the water ski trip because I wanted to tell him about my boyfriend! I haven't told him I was bisexual yet, I wanted to tell him on the trip, but I made him swear not to mention it to anyone else, but then you asked to go, and Bruce couldn't figure out a way to tell you no without revealing that I wanted to talk about something important-but then you got sad, and then Bruce got sad and I-"

"Babe." The redhead cuts in. "Breath"

"Danny, please don't be mad at Bruce because of me!" Dick cries, rubbing his face against Danny's stomach. "I promise we didn't want to exclude you!"

Danny's heart melts, both by how cute Dick is and the knowledge that Bruce was just a good dad and not any of his insecure-inspired conclusions. "Oh, Dick. I'm sorry you felt that. I promise I'm not mad, and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me."

He leans down to hug the boy, grinning as the ten year old sighs. Then he directs a glare at the redhead. He looks about twelve and frankly, Dick is far too young for a boyfriend. "Who's this?"

"I'm Wally West-"

"I asked Dick"

"Oh."

Dick leans back. "This is Wally. He's my best friend and boyfriend! Wally, this is Danny- he's like my second dad."

"It's nice to meet you, sir!" The redhead gulps as Danny's eyes narrow.

"Pleasure." He says in a voice that means anything but. "Dick, sweetie, how did you get here? Does Bruce know where you are?"

"Wally and I...ugh took a cap." Dick everts his eyes. "Bruce was talking to his friends trying to convince them to go on the trip too. He wanted to prove you were his special friend to his regular friends."

A thrill ran through Danny. He was Bruce Wayne's best friend!? "You know I think I can take you kids back home myself. Maybe we can still make a water ski trip!"

Both boys blink owlishly. "Yeah...maybe. Let me just call Uncle Barry to make sure he's going, too."

Wally sprinted to the front desk to borrow their landline while Dick stayed behind, babbling to Danny about how he knew he was bi and how he met Wally. Mentally, Danny was drafting a lecture to give Bruce for allowing his boy to date a co-worker and friend's nephew, especially at this young age! He didn't let his thoughts appear on his face, only nodding and smiling between Dick's word vomits.

Meanwhile, on Wally's side, he uses the Justice League hotline to speak to his Uncle. His call was transferred to the meeting with all the original founders as he used the emergency code accesses Barry had taught him.

His call was placed on speaker for everyone to hear.

"Code Teal for B! Code Teal for B!" he hissed into the phone. The rest of the members sat up straighter and sent Batman looks of alarm. Code Teal was a spouse or lover who thought a hero was cheating on them because of the mission's old hours. We needed to come together to cover for them.

Batman was hiding his face in his hands. ".....Confirm Code Teal."

"Oh and before I forget Code Artificial red for Dick and me" Wally shouts, ignoring the imploding shouts from Batman or Uncle Barry.He hung up not wanting to explain that the boys had chosen to use Fake-out-make-out in order to convince Danny to stay.

He wouldn't mind dating Dick, but maybe later when they were both older. Not that Danny needed to know that.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Freelance Inventor #part 4 #Set a year after Danny met Bruce and Dick #Six months after The Justice Leauge found out Batman was in love #Fake out make out for Wally/Dick #Danny thinking they best friends forever now. He made a braclet #In the 90s the phone was a hour long wait to book plane tickets

[theflyingfeeling]

current level of boredom while being mildly poorly (=not poorly enough to just lie down doing nothing but poorly enough to not have the energy to do anything thought-consuming): tagging all my shippy asks/posts ✨💅

ps. if anyone knows how to use the mass post editor to actually mass-edit tags in a convenient way I'd appreciate the help 🙏 like, idk if it's even possible to find all the posts I have tagged as x and edit the tags of all those posts at once? 🤔 so far I only know you can find tagged posts on your own blog by adding /tagged/x at the end of your url and then editing the tags manually one post at a time 🥲

#all these years on the hellsite and i still haven't figured out how to use the mass post editor for anything useful 💀 #anywayyy literally no one cares but the tags i've been using so far are: #olliallu ollixalluxjoel joonasxniko joelxolli joonasxolli #i also have previously tagged some random posts as joeleksi #yes it's very inconsistent but i had already tagged posts as olliallu but then i realised joonasniko looks kinda dumb 😪 #so joonasxniko it is i guess 😐 funnily enough olliallu looks alright?? but i kinda also want to start using ollixallu from now on #because now it just bothers me so much that one of them is diffferent in style 😭😂😭 #i think i've tagged shippy posts with them as joonas/niko before but i'm gonna have to change that 😑 #since the / does not work that well in tagging ugh #i just started so i've only managed to tag about a fraction of the asks 💀 #man i wish i had had a proper tagging system for asks from the beginning #i never saw the point and idk if there's any point to tagging them afterwards either but ehh i can't write fic so what else should i do #also idk how much sense any of those posts make ''out of context'' but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe at some point this might come in handy #(also also yes i can't write fic i don't have the energy to concentrate and anyway i'll probably need to start it all over again 😩)

[costkappen]

Best boy《CLxReader》

Tags....☆smut,blow job, sub!Charles, Dom!reader, no use of y/n,fluff,charles is insecure,reassuring

Warnings....☆smut!mdni, a bit of sad!Charles but nothing too sad or angsty

Word count....☆1795

A bit of a warning, this is my first time writing so it not the best,also please correct me if you find any spelling mistakes as I didn't proof read this,anyways enjoy I hope I did good!

He looked so pretty high up on the podium, his smiling face half covered by the shining Australian sun making his pretty blue eyes shine like I've never seen before.

After the podium celebrations I went after him and pulled him in the tightest hug ever

"Congratulations Charles! P2 and double ferrari podium, I'm so proud of you" his face lit up at my praise, something I've picked up since I first met him, he gloats over the littlest praise aimed towards him, even if it wasn't said to him directly, he has a habit of kicking himself down way more that necessary when the smallest thing goes wrong, even if it wasn't his fault he always finds a way to beat himself up over it, so over the years I've made a mental note to sower him with praises as much as I can. "Thank you chéri, I'm also really happy with the team today, let's go to my drivers room I'll take a quick shower and then we'll go back to the hotel"

The drive to the hotel was fairly silent, I didn't say anything to him but I saw how his lips twitched and how his grip on the steering wheel was so tight the tips of his fingers turned white. Yes he was happy about his podium, but there was something he was not telling me so I made it my personal mission to find out what was bothering him so much on a day that was supposed to make him feel like he was on cloud 9.

Once we arrived to the hotel the first thing I did was change into something more comfortable and then I went looking for him, "Hey baby" I said as I sat down on his lap on the couch "How are you feeling? You must be so happy, we have to celebrate with Carlos and Rebecca tonight you boys did such a good job"

The praise made him smile, still he didn't look like his usual self "Yeah I'm really happy Chéri, I think the team needed this win, I can't wait to celebrate with you all" then he gives me a quick kiss on the lips and looks at me without saying anything else

" Alright then if you're so happy then why are you acting like that?" "Acting like what?" He says with a nervous giggle as to make me think I'm just over thinking it. "Like you're about to cry Charlie, don't lie to me I know you too well." He then brings his hand to gently stroke my cheek, as if I was the one that needed comforting right now, "I really can't hide anything from you Chéri?" He let's out a sigh,his whole body deflating "I'm happy for Carlos, I really am, it's just that I can't stop thinking how it should've been me on the first step, not because I don't think that Carlos deserves it but because I've got the whole ferrari team and the tifosi rooting for me, and everytime I get second place instead of winning I feel like I'm letting down everyone, especially you" well I surely wasn't expecting that, yes I knew he had some troubles in believing himself, but I didn't know just how little he thought of himself, "Charlie I can promise you're not letting anyone down,and especially not me! Do you not know how proud I am of you? The redbull is been a monster of a car and so far you've been the only one to get as close to it as second place, everyone at the motorhome can tell you that, everyone is so proud of you even when you don't win we know that you could do so much more if we had a better car and if redbull didn't have a rocketship instead of a car,no one is upset with you Charlie" his lips were quivering and his pretty blue eyes were shiny and looked like they were ready to burst with tears, but I couldn't let my pretty boy cry on a day like this, not when he was supposed to be celebrating and happy with his amazing results, "Alright Charlie how about I show you just how much i am proud of you?"

I take his hand making him stand up from the couch "Where are we going Chéri?" He asks confused as ever "to the bed baby, I'll show you what good boys like you get when they've been so good" and as I make him get on the bed I get a good look at his flushed face, cheeks red and a little shy smile,

"I'll start slow okay?" He nods eagerly his head and I chuckle at his shyness, I start by prepping kisses all over his handsome face and I stop at his lips to give him a more passionate kiss occasionally sliding my tongue on his bottom lip, stroking his arms with my hand I could feel goosebumps forming, as I made my way to his neck I made sure that my kissed lingered a bit longer as to leave pink patches all over his neck, light enough to show but not too harsh so they would be gone the next day, as much as I wanted to leave purple marks all over him I knew pr would kill him if he showed up in public covered in hickeys, so just this once I'll refrain myself.

I could feel him shiver under me as I got to unbuttoning his shirt and I kissed all over his chest "Chéri please..don't tease me like this" he pleaded looking at me with his puppy eyes "What do you want me to do Charlie? I'll do anything you want as long as you ask me nicely " I was being a bit mean to him but I knew that he loved it when I took charge and teased him, "Please just touch me..anywhere I just want to feel your touch" his words make me melt, and how could I say no to him when he was begging so prettily "What a good boy you are Charles, asking me so nicely, don't worry I'll make you feel so good" He shivers as my hand gets lower, working on his pants to get them off, I slide them down along with his underwear as he raises his hips to help me get his pant off of him, I look back up staring at his pretty leaking dick, he wasn't the biggest but he still had the prettiest dick I've ever seen, clean and neatly groomed, I started tracing the veins that run across his shaft, that pulled a whimper out of him so I started using my tongue savoring his flavor on my tastbuds as I moved to his tip, clear beads of precum already leaking out "your dick is so pretty cha, so sensitive for me.." I look up at him smiling and circling my tongue around his tip "p-pleas chérie..take me in your mouth no more teasing" his pleas and the way he looked at me while he was making me go crazy, he just looked so good, still maintaining eye contact I took him as deep down my throat as I could go, seeing his face contorted from the pleasure gave me more confidence so I relaxed my throat and stopped when my nose hit his lower stomach, he tasted heavenly and I could hear his whimpers and soft moans, I bobbed my head up and down using my hand to stoke him at his base where I could not reach with my mouth, and he looked completely gone, eyes rolling back, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white and he let out the prettiest moans, but his breath was staring to hiccup and he started squirming against the sheet so I knew he was getting close "what is it cha? Getting close my sweet boy?" I cooed at him getting my mouth back on him as soon as I stopped talking "mhh- Chéri please don't stop i-" He gasped and as I looked at him I saw his eyes roll back, he was completely blissed out "what is it pretty boy, Can't talk anymore? Am I making you feel so good your brain can't form words?" His breath hitched and he let out a shaky moan, this time I decided to not make him beg me to let him cut, he had been so good and he deserved it, so I started focusing on his tip, circling it with my tongue and sucking it harshly while my hand stroked him up and down as the other held him at his base,I was so focused on getting him to his sweet and deserved release I almost didn't hear him warning me that he was about to cum, "look at me Charlie,I want to see your pretty face as you cum down my throat like a good boy,just like that cha let it go for me" my words pushed him off the edge and he gripped my hair slightly pushing my head down on him, I got the hint so I took him as deep as a could and he heal me there, his loud moans filled the room, at this point I knew that whoever was staying in the room next to us hear him but I couldn't care less, I just wanted him to feel good, as i looked at his fucked out expression I felt his sweet cum filling my mouth, his mouth hanged low as he let out one final loud moan and fell back on the pillows, I slowly pulled him out of my mouth, took his face in my hands and made him look at me as I swallowed his cum, and he smashed his mouth on mine, sliding his tongue inside my mouth passionately kissing me, a quiet thank you.

"Are you feeling better now Charlie?" I looked down at him as he was laying on my chest trying to gain his breath back "yes- yes thank you chéri I'm feeling much better chéri thank you" He smiled and kissed my neck and nuzzled his face as I covered us up with the covers "well then I'm confident that you learned your lesson and will start to believe in yourself more yes?" I say as I start stroking his hair

"Well I don't know chéri, if that's what happens when I doubt myself I might just start doing it more" He laughs and hides his face in the crook of my neck, I gently smack the back of his head but I also laugh at his comment "I love you charles, you know that right?" "I know chéri, but I love you more."

#charles lecrelc #formula 1 #cl16 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #sub!charles leclerc #one shot #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 smut #x reader #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #no y/n #f1 fanfic #f1

[blessedbucky]

based off my own thot because i saw a lack of tentacles in the satosugu/reader tag and took that personally! (i wanted this posted because the brainrot is real right now so apologies if there are any mistakes!)

pairing: satoru/suguru/reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: TENTACLES BABY, so...shibari-ish by proxy?, vaginal, oral, anal, this throuple do be a little fucked up but that's just jjk territory, satoru and reader seeing orders to kill suguru on sight and straight up saying "that sign can't stop me because i can't read!", some jealousy, a mention of exhibition, suguru lowkey being a daddy, i think that's everything

my thanks to @firefly-graphics for the header! i'm tickled pink by it!

I hate you!

There’s a hum, but you’re still not looked at. “Why, my dearest, are you looking at me like that? I don’t think it was me that put you in this situation.” Suguru flips to the next page in his book. His face hasn’t shifted once since this all started. He still wears that same blasé expression, as if he couldn’t be bothered with any of this. “If anything, I’m helping my sweet girl by teaching her a lesson.” Your adrenaline spikes when you watch him raise a hand. “You need to have a stronger backbone, dear…”

Just as you feared, Suguru flicks his fingers. The cursed spirit shifts as it’s commanded to, and the inky black tentacles move deeper. You didn’t even think that was possible! You breathe harshly through your nose as the heavy weight of the tentacle pushes further down your throat. You still gag. Tears blur your vision but it’s not enough for you not to see that Suguru is finally watching you.

Then, Suguru smirks. It’s that shitty, smug one. It’s bait, of course. It always is. That smirk is always followed by something said that’s so egregious that it makes you act up. And, sure enough, “You can’t keep letting our darling Satoru have his way.”

You’re letting him have his way right now, Suguru!

“Ooh, I know that look.” Suguru reaches out. You think that this is it! He’s finally going to touch you! Instead, he lovingly pets at his new favorite cursed spirit. “Let me guess—you think it’s only him that I’m indulging, is that it?” He chuckles at the widening of your eyes. “Aw, that’s cute. You really thought I wouldn’t find out about what you two little perverts are watching and getting off to together.”

Stalker, you think at him as if he can read your mind. Though, with how deep in your guts his curses are, you’d think that he’d be able to do that. Creep. Pervert. It’s not like these things bother you. You’re as half-mad as Satoru. Suguru makes you both so fucking stupid, so you two get home to your apartment, feeling Suguru’s residuals, and think it’s romantic. Right now, you’re just on the verge of breaking down because Suguru won’t touch you.

“I don’t like this attitude,” Suguru remarks. “Satoru is usually the bratty one. Look at how good he’s being right now.”

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit! This is bullshit! The only reason he’s being so good right now is because you fucked him stupid, and you know it!

Satoru started this whole thing and he’s getting the praise now?!

In the middle of keeping your face pinned down against the mattress by the back of your neck and snapping his hips against your ass, that bastard had leaned over your back and started whispering in your ear. Let’s drop in on Suguru, hmm? It had been over three months since either of you had seen him. There was always this…unspoken rule that you and Satoru do not interfere in Suguru’s world. But then Satoru said, I hear he hired some bitch to be his assistant. We should totally fuck somewhere that she’ll find us. C’mon, baby, let’s make him pay attention to us.

Alright, yeah, maybe you do need to grow a backbone.

Though…it was really worth it to see that bitch’s face when she walked into Suguru’s office to find your head hanging over the edge of his desk while Satoru ruthlessly pounded into you. It was made all the better when Suguru slammed open the door about thirty minutes later and snapped at her to leave him alone. No matter how close his little cult followers or family get, he’ll only ever be fake smiles with them. And you’re as much a greedy little hedonist as Satoru is, so it’s nearly orgasmic to know that only you and Satoru can see every side of Geto Suguru.

You don’t quite remember what Satoru said when he mouthed off to Suguru. All you remember is that beatific smile of Suguru’s and his sugary sweet voice when he said, I see. I’ve been neglecting my darlings. Let’s go to my room, shall we? If you wanted to see me so badly, I’ll let you see me as much as you want.

Unlike Satoru, you had some sense left for you to nervously think, I’m in danger! Common sense flew out the window when Suguru slid one of those obscenely big hands of his under his yukata to tug it loose, though. You and Satoru followed after him like bitches in heat.

Let you two see him, Suguru definitely has done. You see each other, too. Satoru is the picture definition of lewd right now. You don’t want to imagine what shape you’re in yourself. You’re mirror images. On your knees, kept in the perfect pose by the one tentacle that’s wrapped around your ankles and wrists. It forces your backs to arch, putting your breasts on full display. A tentacle didn’t waste time before it was wrapping around your tits, too. Satoru got tentacles locking around his chest, squeezing so hard as to bring attention to Satoru’s pecs. Sensitive little Satoru started having the suckers of tentacles pluck at his nipples and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age turned into a whimpering mess.

The strongest sorceress of the modern age lost every thought in her head when all her holes got filled. A tentacle down your throat, one of the bigger ones thrusting inside your pussy, and another carefully pushing inside your ass. No prep. Even with the tentacles lubricated with something almost sweet, it burned. That just makes it better. Rough is the default setting when you three have sex. Gentleness only comes when you’ve all burned out that pent-up aggressive energy.

You and Satoru were okay with it, at first. That tentacle monster bursting onto the scene behind Suguru was like a wet dream come true. Hell, you didn’t even complain when Suguru propped himself up against the headboard with a book. None of you are a stranger to some edging.

Then, you and Satoru were two orgasms in, and the tentacles hadn’t budged. Suguru was making no move to do so, either. It’s become clear that Suguru’s affection is a double-edged sword. Suguru will spoil you and Satoru…and will turn right around and mercilessly abuse that gift to punish you both. Because Suguru knows how tactile you and Satoru are. You two crave touch, especially Suguru’s. To be denied it for so long…

Satoru’s lashes are clumped together from his tears. He’s overstimulated, exhausted, and silently begging Suguru with those shining blue eyes to end his suffering. You get pissy, though. The defiance and anger are meant to goad him because even a rough touch is still a touch.

“Ngh!”

Suguru isn’t falling for any of it. He snaps his fingers and the tentacles that he’d forced to stop moving about ten minutes ago start thrusting inside you. Satoru’s shout is muffled by the tentacle he’s been deepthroating. The tentacles go from zero to a hundred, pumping inside you at a pace that you both relish and aren’t ready for. Your eyes roll in the back of your head. Just before you come so hard that you’re convulsing and liquid gushes from your pussy, you feel the splatter of Satoru’s hot come across your thighs.

“Alright. No more playing.” Suguru gets on his knees, shuffling forward. He shoves his pants down in one fluid movement, his thick, massive cock slapping against his abdomen. He grips the base of it, holding it out in Satoru and your direct lines of sight. “Suck me off.” The tentacles in both your mouths slips away, leaving you and Satoru drooling and panting. “If you two can work together and make this real good for me, I’ll come in all your holes. How’s that sound, my loves?”

#my fic #jjk smut #satosugu #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #geto smut #jjk x reader #anime #reader insert #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk fanfic #tentacles #!!!!!!!