#i honestly thought my opinion of him could drop no lower

[eddiessluttywaist]

as if (part 3)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: reader isn’t keen to playing the usual games between her and eddie after how she felt sunday night, and eddie can’t stand losing her attention. PICK WHAT ENDING YOU WANT AFTER.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 8,704 words (9,272 total words with the fluffy ending, 9,516 total words with the angsty ending)

content/warnings: swearing, SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, breeding kink, mocking, teasing, biting, dacryphilia, groping, pet names (doll face, princess), degradation, some embarrassment, yearning, menophilia, angst :(((, feelings :(((, fluff(what? who said that?). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: thank you for all the love :( i’m truly so surprised and grateful and just super flattered so thank you!! i hope i didn’t fuck this up by giving it crap endings sobs. i saw some were interested in a bit of a better look into eddie’s thoughts/feelings so i hope those lil parts are good! i’m considering the occasional blurb in the future about them tho so 👀 OH ALSO!! the past week or so tumblr had a bug on their app that cut off the ends of my posts >:( so I’d appreciate it if you could look back to double check you caught the full ending so you get the proper experience! okay i’m shutting up now!

part one - part two

*

You weren’t as responsive to his teasing that Monday…or, well… just about the rest of the school week so far, for that matter. You blamed your mood drop on his indifference, and the cramping that you assumed was only from this weekend. You had been sure it was just your cervix making its opinions on Eddie known, but then—after your second sugar pill of the week—you got your period Wednesday night. This culprit seemingly just as likely for that aching in your lower abdomen and back. It was welcome evidence that your birth control was working, but the appreciation for its presence didn’t last long with all the cramping and the bleeding. You hated getting your period, no matter how many older women reminded you of your “connection to Mother Nature” and “the beauty of the womb.” It’s messy and painful and almost always broke out your face.

So no you aren’t playing Eddie’s usual games—instead going silent on him or answering in an empty murmur. Part of you worries it’s going to all build up to one particularly heinous act, but he surprisingly didn’t get worse. He only bothered you with the same old stuff more frequently. By Thursday he’s pestering you constantly with his teasing, and his grabbing, and honestly? Just about every trick in his sick little book which were usually tastefully sprinkled throughout the week.

“So you’re not talking to me? Playing hard to get or somethin’?” He whispers from behind you in the lunch line. You grab a saran-wrapped cookie and put it on your tray.

“What? You on your rag or something?” Eddie scoffs in response to your ever freezing cold shoulder. He’s out in the tundra these past couple of days. You make a face and continue moving through the line.

“Come on… don’t fuck me and forget me, babe. You’ll break this ol’ cynic’s heart and I’ll never recover.” He teases with a wide smile, hand placed over his heart before it drops to settle on the small of your back and gradually travel down to cup your ass. He’s pleasantly surprised that you’re not gently nudging him away like you had the last time he attempted his usual lunchtime groping, but something feels different. He glances down as he flips up your skirt only to reveal small shorts in the same pattern of your dark, plaid skirt. Your worst nightmare is bleeding through a light-colored pair of pants or skirt, so you always wear darker clothes on your period, and you trade skirts for skorts in favor of the added coverage.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He scowls, tugging at one leg of the shorts.

“It’s called a skort. We’ve had this conversation before.” You sigh, thanking the lunch lady as she hands you your tray and eyes the metalhead trailing behind you.

She thinks he resembles an abandoned puppy who grew mean and practiced his bite and his bark just to follow after you with his tail between his legs. If she had any genuine interest in connecting with the student body she fed 5 days out of the week, she might’ve made a playful joke about you having him whipped. But she didn’t care that much.

“I don’t think we have.” He grins, wondering if you even noticed you let yourself talk to him.

“You do it every time I’m on-“ You catch yourself almost admitting you were on your period, which would certainly only pull new harassment from him, so you pretend to correct a simple mistake. “In. Every time I’m in a skort.”

He hums disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well… I…” He trails off as you simply walk away from him to your usual spot in the cafeteria. You don’t bother to stay at his table you two reached just for him to finish making some crude joke before ultimately shooing you away anyway. “Okay… or be a bitch.”

He grumbles that last bit, landing into his usual spot at the head of the table. A few of the other Hellfire members are still staring even when he clearly takes notice.

“Can I help you?” He snaps, everyone who had been staring immediately looking down at their food. He huffs, adjusting his position in the chair to get more comfortable and lets his gaze move over to your table. You’re sat so pretty it’s like your image could actually advertise such a crappy plastic chair. The way your ankles are crossed underneath you, book cracked open on the table with all of your attention on it as you sat with your body leaned into the table. Your food was hardly touched due to a pang of nausea that he was completely unaware of.

“You know if you like her maybe you shouldn’t pick on her so much.”

Eddie grimaces at the comment that’s—in his opinion—beyond a disregard for his rank at this table, icy glare on the curly haired freshman. There are panicked faces and soft muttering around the table showing he isn’t the only one taken aback by this.

“I…” the boy falters, putting the spoonful of pudding he’s about to eat back down. “I just mean if… if you like her. I dunno… you’re kinda mean to her, Eddie.”

He eats his scoop of pudding now, his bold words inspiring the wiry one that always sits next to him. Eddie’s burning glance flits over to him now that he’s speaking, his expression remaining unimpressed with etches of frustration in the shadows of his facial features.

“Yeah, which is actually totally weird cause you’re not like that at all.” The brunet speaks in a rapid ramble like usual. “Like, you took me and Dustin and Lucas under your wing cause we were new and weird and alone and stuff like that—no, I know Lucas has been ditching Hellfire for the jocks, but anyway— you’re always talking back to those asshole jocks—which is totally cool—so I don’t get why you’re not like that with her.”

“I’m sorry, I must be confused.” The man spoke with sarcastic interest, a sinister smile breaking out onto his face. “Are you two talking to me? About something that is, quite frankly, none of your business?”

The two boys look at each other, the nerves shared between them tangible. Eddie raises a brow and tilts his head when they face him again. Still silence. Mike swallows anxiously.

“Well?” He sneers, flicking some of his trail mix at them.

“Sorry, Eddie…” They say in unison as he chews slowly, staring them down. He rolls his eyes as his body slowly relaxes again in his spot and he glances at you again. You were at least breaking off pieces of your cookie now, still reading your book.

“She’s not new or weird or alone anyways. She’s always with the smart kids.” He states, before holding up a hand as his gaze returns to the pair. “Not that I’m inviting you two shitheads to stick your noses in my business.”

The freshmen, along with a few others at the table shift to look over at you. You’re still engrossed in whatever you’re reading and you looked miserable, even if you were enjoying a good book. You look tired.

“Dude, literally no one is interacting with her. There’re the Jacobson twins talking at one end—probably still fighting over what’s the right answer to the equation from algebra class (it’s zero, by the way). Then there’s Richie and Greg from advanced calculus. Some people I don’t know…” Dustin mutters that last part before continuing, “And yes technically speaking there are a few girls sitting with her, but they’re not even talking. They probably don’t even know her.“

Eddie stares him down, the conversation still on you burning away at something inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about you or how lonely you look. He doesn’t want to talk about inviting you over. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about how mean he is to you, cause he has no interest in trying to break down the intricacies of the crossover between bullying you and fucking you. Especially to freshmen.

“Just saying.” Dustin finally sighs in defeat, clearly getting no response from the DM sat at the head of the table. “But seriously, tugging on a girl’s pigtails cause you like her is completely grade school.”

*

Eddie had figured that having sex would change things between you two, but he imagined it changing for the better. Things like fucking you in the janitor’s closet or in the back of his van in the parking lot. Feeling you up between classes. Being so fucking mean to you all day until you were all wet and needy for him by the time that final bell rang.

He certainly didn’t imagine this.

At the start of the school week, Eddie didn’t entirely notice your lack of participation. Just that something felt… off-kilter in your interactions. It had been on Tuesday night that he realized nothing felt right because you weren’t glaring at him or shoving him away or pouting up at him. You didn’t even turn your head when an object was flicked at you, you just kept your eyes on the chalkboard.

Now he isn’t particularly well known for his critical thinking with… well… anything other than music, DND, and—subsequently—the math that came along with both hobbies. And, of course, selling drugs. So it’s somewhat understandable that poor Eds didn’t even realize what caused the imbalance for a whole day or two. Once he realized it though, it only frustrated him further. It irritated him that you weren’t playing the game, and it irritated him that it bothered him so much in the first place.

Why aren’t you snapping back at him? Why are you ignoring him, and if you even do look over: why was it always with a sad glance? Why, when he toyed with your skirt on Monday did you tilt your head to the side and quietly ask him to please leave you alone? When he saw you first thing Monday morning with circles under your eyes that were barely disguised by drug store concealer; Why, when he leaned into you as he passed you in the hall with a quiet “Something keep you up last night?” Did you only give him a passing glance with lips pressed together in what might’ve been an attempt at a small smile just to fall flat with that dull look in your eyes.

Being how he is, his game plan had been to keep bugging you constantly. Wear you down until you were finally glaring or giggling or whining, and everything could be back to the way it was. Maybe you were just suddenly playing hard to get. Being a teasing brat who would eventually have a smirk sneak out so he knew you were toying with him, and he could make you pay for it later. That smirk never quirked up your lip though. You were still such a rainy cloud drifting through the school.

The little twerp got to him at lunch today, too. He wonders now if maybe you were sick of the way he acted, and realized you want deserve someone a little less inclined to pigtail-tugging and a little more open and romantic. But why now? He thought you enjoyed it all. That’s why he wasn’t expelled already. That’s why you fucked him and called him for more. Right? Sitting in his van instead of attending the last class of the day, Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a frustrated groan. He feels something crucial missing in him at the fact that he’d rather pull teeth than drop down his smug and playful demeanor even for a second and show you that he’s yours.

He noticed you were pretty when you were a sophomore, but not much else. Now in your senior year with him, god—you aren’t even pretty. You’re fucking devastating, and he knows his methods of showing affection aren’t something that will stand the test of time. You’ll grow tired and fuck it, he’d be living up to that Munson name if he has to see you with someone else—probably wind up serving time right alongside Pops after leaving some guy in the hospital. So maybe there were tweaks to be had. Even if he’s bitter and reluctant about it. (And did I mention bitter?)

Eddie pulls his hands away from his face at the faint sound of a bell, letting the side of his head fall against the window with a solid thunk as he awaits the crowds of students rushing out of the school.

*

You’re passing by others on your way out of the building, just as relieved as everyone else to be going home for the day—not that your excitement showed. It’s more of a calm relief to be heading to your room again than everyone else’s bubbly enthusiasm to make plans for the rest of the day. (When they should be getting their assignments done after all it’s not Friday yet, you think, but maybe that’s just because you evidently have no life.)

Making your way through the parking lot, a loud horn makes you jump. Your eyes wild and your heart up in your throat, you look around until you spot Eddie laying on his horn with his tongue partially sticking out off to the side. He lets up the second you lock eyes and laughs.

“Need a ride? Gotta couple of good options.”

You huff, trying to ignore his filthy innuendo and shake your head. He groans, settling his head back against the head rest of his seat while you start walking away.

“What the fuck is your problem? Jesus fucking Christ!”

You keep walking, hearing his car door open and the sound of his sneakers on the pavement. His car buzzes irritably at its door being left open while running, but he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t care about anything, really. He rests a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“’m just not in the mood, Eddie.” You snap the second you’re facing him.

But you’re always in the mood, he wants to argue as if that made a difference right now. He lets out a long breath that puffs out his lips as he decompresses, arm bent up to rub his hand on the back of his neck. It’s evident that he’s not used to this, and doesn’t have a clue how to go about it. You eye him in that moment, waiting for him. Waiting for something that made that ache in your chest dissipate and the hole it leaves be filled with a light warmth. Then you’re ready to give up on waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen when he suddenly dips down and drapes you over his shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“I- Eddie-!“

“I- Eddie- I-” He mimics, clearly out of habit and opens the back door to his van to plop you right on top of a random cushion nestled inside. It looks like it’s just a single couch cushion and you wonder where he got only one. Is it from an old couch that was getting tossed anyways? Did he steal it? Who steals a singular couch cushion from the seat of a sofa? And what was that stain on the corner? You’re shifting away from it as he climbs in after you, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips again until the door is shut and he’s settled against it with a sigh.

“Yoo-hoo.”

“What?”

He scratches his jaw as he looks over at you then points at the stain you were avoiding.

“Yoo-hoo. The drink. That’s what the stain is from.”

“Oh… okay.”

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes going wide as he fights the urge to roll them while he stares up at the ceiling of his vehicle, and then he finally speaks up again.

“Why are you being all…” He gestures his hands out in a odd way, flopping them a bit before settling them on his legs again. He sighs, tilting his head down and looking over at you again. “I don’t fucking know… you’re not being fun this week.”

Your nostrils flare and your brow creases with a pulse of rage at his words.

“Oh I’m so sorry that I’m not playing your game, Eddie. For your information, yes—as you said so elegantly before— I’m ‘on my rag’ and don’t exactly feel like dealing with you.”

Despite the tone you’re taking with him, a grin is pulling at his face and a few laughs bubble from his chest that were almost like little amused giggles. God, he missed getting you all worked up.

“What? Never got it before?” He suddenly questions.

“I- What?”

He snickers.

“Your rag. The crimson tide. Never ridden the cotton pony before?” He’s having too much fun with this and your face is getting all hot.

“Cause I kinda doubt it. Y’know…” he gestures to your form, “The idea that you haven’t gone through puberty yet sounds fake to me, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well you’ve never acted like this before so unless this is your first week of Carrie...” He hisses an inhale through his teeth.

“My condolences, but look at it this way: You’re finally a woma- hey!” He’s laughing until he’s dodging the random work boot you toss at him—the sight of him scooting away from the projectile actually getting a giggle from you.

“Those ‘r for the garage, doll. Heavy duty shit, can’t be throwing those.” He chastises as he waves the shoe at you, but there’s a weight that’s lifting from him. He got you to just sit and talk to him, and even made you laugh. Even if you’re biting the inside of your cheek now to try and refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your smile. How are things like this right now? Shouldn’t he be bending you over his knee for not acting the way he wanted you to? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be making you cry?

“I’ve gotten my period before.” You state simply. Eddie puts the boot down, dropping his head back against the interior of his van as he looks at you expectantly.

“Then what? What’s with the bitching and the ignoring and the crybaby shit?” He asks bluntly, making your brow furrow again.

“And not even the good crybaby shit,” he continues in a softer tone as he makes his way over to you, “Where’s my pouty girl, huh? Where’s my brat?”

My. My. It’s making your head swirl, his words and proximity putting up a good fight against this latest impulse to be cold to him. He’s settled in front of you and pulling you forward by your hips.

“Don’t wanna talk about it…” You murmur because he should know. He should’ve automatically known the second he left your room that he fucked up when he didn’t kiss you.

“No? Do I gotta bully it out of you, baby? Should I keep up with what I’ve been doing or are you gonna keep pissing me off with that silent treatment shit if I do?”

Watching your expression, his hands settled on your hips start to massage his fingertips in small circles against your lower back. A sigh falls from your lips before you can even stop it, melting from his touch. He’s massaging that spot that’s been tied up in knots the past couple of days, and taking care of it perfectly. Just when you think he’s suddenly a completely different person he stops the movements entirely. That familiar pout that he loves pulls at your lower lip, clearly disappointed by the loss of his kneading.

“Gonna tell me?” He coos, tilting his head.

Your lips part then close again, faltering on if you should just tell him. He mimics the motion then your pout before grinning at you again. You stay quiet, a new conflict arising inside your head. Should you just tell him and move forward? Should you let him suffer until he figures it out? He deserves to suffer in your book, but who knows how long it would take for him to realize. The man has failed his senior year twice already.

“No? Okay, doll.” He’s separating himself from you now, moving to a corner of his van to start digging through some random stacks and piles there.

He’s going on about how he’d help if he could, but he guessed that won’t happen now. How if only you’d cut lil’ ol’ him a break. His theatrical and bitter words are coated in a soft tone and playful, exaggerated sighs. He’s having all the fun in the world trying to tease you until you just sigh and admit whatever your major malfunction is. It’s lighthearted in comparison to his usual teasing, but even this starts bringing the tears forward.

You hate that he doesn’t know. That it clearly didn’t mean enough for him to notice. You hate that he pulls you in all smooth and sweet to get you intoxicated on him just for him to laugh over it and leave you alone again. You hate how he’s suddenly making you feel cared for just for him to go away again cause he isn’t getting what he wants. Now you’re desperately trying to hide the fact that you’re crying as all of your feelings and aches and pains of this week rush through you.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before but it was never like this. It was teary eyes from frustration or, recently, the occasional sob from how good he made you feel. It’s never been breaking down after a hard week. It’s never sobbing because after all this time the two of you finally cracked, and you’re scared you’re the only one increasingly enchanted every passing second since that first kiss. It was never hiccuping sobs that you were doing your best to push down. Your face is burning, your sight blurry even though tears kept rolling down your cheeks. It’s like there’s a never ending supply to stream down your face and still keep your vision bleary.

“Jus’ sayin’ we could be doing something way more fun right no…w…” He trails off once he finally looks over at you.

He’s holding an unopened pack of cigarettes he had been looking for in his typical mess and pulling out his lighter, but now all his focus is on the way you’re sniffling and shaking. You’re still sat on that cushion, knees up and a hand settled over your mouth with your head turned away from him. A heart-wrenching sob just barely sneaks its way out before you choke it back down. Little huffs are escaping you in a desperate attempt to breathe without letting your need to wail break free. It feels like your lungs are on fire.

“Y/N…” Eddie says in a tender voice that you didn’t think he was even capable of. You shake your head.

“Y/n c’mon…” He tries again with a small, nervous laugh. Nervous you were serious. Nervous that he really made you so upset. Nervous to really show that he cares if he did.

“It’s okay, really-“ Your voice is higher than usual, another heavy breath puffing out before you try to drag it in again just to end up whimpering as another wave of sadness comes over you and you’re too overwhelmed to hold it in. You stay facing away from him as you cry and hiccup, trying to get it back under control.

“I just- it’s stupid, it’s n-ot that big of a deal.”

For Eddie, making you cry is all about the glossy eyes and pouty lips as you stare up at him defiantly or a sign that you need him to quit playing games and fuck you. It’s never been this… brutal. Panic continues to rise in his system, and he’s unsure of how to handle the situation. Once upon a time, he thought he treated you the way that he did because some sadistic part of him liked to always make you hurt, but it was becoming evident that he just liked the play. The banter. The shoving and the glaring and pouting and the wandering eyes. When he acted the way he always did and you didn’t respond or did so in a quiet plea for him to really stop or really cried—it made his stomach clench. The more he tried to keep it up this week the more he realized that when you weren’t playing along he just… he was just mean. Really mean. Not “you’re so awful, just fuck me already” mean, but “you’re making me miserable” mean. And fuck if he didn’t hate the way that felt.

“Is it really that bad?” He murmurs, partially surprised by his own voice when it sounded this gentle. The thin plastic around his cigarettes crinkle under his nervous hands. And he thought he needed a smoke before. “Did I hurt you? Or-or somethin’? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No.” You weep, still refusing to look at him and it’s killing him even if a part of him knows he would crumble if he sees how you look right now. God, he hated this. The vulnerability of caring openly and to this extent, but what else could he do? Double down on his usual behavior and kick you while you were already so down you might as well have been sinking into the pavement?

“Y/N, please-“ He tries again and you crack completely.

“It’s just not fair because I thought I wanted this, but it’s to-oo hard. You don’t care enough to stick around. Y-You don’t check in with me. You’ve pushed me around for the past two years and I’m an idiot who thought it was all lighthe-hearted deep down, a-and that you wanted me too.”

You break down into tears again until you put yourself back together just enough so it’s only the constant sniffling and your voice trembling that’s interrupting you. All Eddie can do is stare at you with big brown eyes like saucers while you babble, his brow frowning as he anxiously picks at his fingernails and the skin around them.

“A-And of course I got my fucking period cause why wouldn’t I? Cause why would I catch a break? N-N my body aches and I’m so tired and you… you couldn’t… you didn’t…”

“What?” He’s shuffling a bit closer now, lowering his face like he always did to catch your attention. He was right that seeing your face like this would cave him in, and he wishes he could be dropped into a black hole. He knew he deserved it. At the sight of your current state, he was pulling that smoke he already had his fingertips on and placing it between his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply before letting his hand drop down, cig between his fore and middle fingers, ring finger toying with a tear in his jeans.

“You…” You let out a breath before dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, tears still slipping down your cheeks and over your jaw to wet your neck and dampen the collar of your top or drop down and land on that skort he hated. “You wouldn’t even kiss me on Sunday…”

You sound horribly deflated at the admission, and his eyes flicker all over your features before the smallest twitches of the corners of his lips start to tug them up even though his eyes hold a sad sort of infatuation within them.

“You kissed me on Friday, but not once on Sunday. And you didn’t even seem to care…” You mumble, glancing over at him once and then twice when you notice the curve of his lips. Your eyes burn with a potential for new tears. “Are you fucking smiling?”

“No—no, well, yeah. Not like that.” He huffs out an anxious laugh. “I just… you ignored me… cause I didn’t give you a kiss..?”

You scoff, lips parted and gaze furious. He is unbelievable.

“Among other things! I-I… ugh! You’re infuriating!” You announce and his brows shoot up, grin widening with interest and he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

“You… you make fun of me constantly. You fuck me and finish in me and don’t even spend time with me after. The least you can do is kiss me. Or… or…” You huff, which was becoming a theme today.

He can’t help but find you cute when you’re angry. You remind him of that temperamental pixie in that old animated Peter Pan film from the ‘50s. He used to babysit a young girl in the trailer park who watched it constantly (much to his chagrin).

“Or you don’t get to have me anymore.” You conclude, and he just keeps staring at you with wild eyes as he smokes.

Your anxieties peak and a voice in your head is screaming to get out of the damn van, even when he’s just casually puffing on a cigarette without a hint of irritation on his face. Eddie lets the cig stick to his bottom lip as his hands find your form to pull you closer to him. His right hand raises to place the smoke between his middle and forefinger, and remove it from his lips. His left hand moves to hook his thumb on your lower lip and part your mouth for him to plant an open-mouthed kiss on you as his smoke floats around you and in your mouth, his tongue hot on yours. The pamphlets your parents gave you about the dangers of cigarettes popped up in your mind as his smoke fills you. The statistics and pictures of smoker lungs mean nothing to you as he kisses you like this.

You’re more than just warming up to the smell you usually couldn’t stand, and you find yourself back where you were on Friday. Willing to take whatever he gives you. As long as he kept kissing you like this. As long as he kisses you like he plans on making you his wife while he fucks you like he’s your high school bully. The kiss is all tongues and muffled moans, your arms wrapping around his neck. You chase after his lips when he finally starts pulling away. An involuntary whimper slid from you as you look at him with heavy eyelids.

“If you want something…” He trails off in a whisper, keeping his half-lidded eyes on you even as he reaches over to tap off ash into a cheap plastic tray. His thumb and pointer finger pinch your chin to keep your focus on him. “You ask, okay? Pretty standard rules, princess.”

“But…”

“But now,” He cuts you off with a soft sigh, head tilting as he looks at you. The eye contact is becoming so intense it’s burning through you. “Now I know this is important for you, ‘kay?”

You’re surprised by this. Honestly you’re shocked by every kindness and touch of patience he provided you today. You would have never guessed Eddie Munson is even capable of such a thing. You nod with your gaze retreating downwards, toying with your hands and he chases after your stare with a tilt of his head to try and get you to look at him again, brows raised up.

“Doll?”

You wipe at the cooling streaks of tears on one cheek with your shoulder then finally look up again, and nod with more confidence this time.

“And…” He looks almost like he’s in pain for a moment before he finally continues “‘m sorry, okay?”

“…Really?” You murmur, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m capable of an apology, given the right circumstances.”

You eye him, silent with hesitation and shock.

“‘N the right girl.” He murmurs with a soft voice even though he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Why is it always so charming? It’s smug and teasing, but always so endearing.

You don’t know what else to do so you just kiss him. You pull him in by his shoulders and kiss him. You kiss him like you could devour him, body and soul. His arms circle around your waist after leaving that partly-smoked cigarette in the cheap ash tray and drags you closer all while kissing you back. He’s leaning down to place you on the scratchy carpeting and hover over you. Any break for air is short-lived before you’re back on each other. Your hands tangle in the messy curls draping around your head, tugging to pull a groan from him.

“Fuck…” He sighs into the kiss, dropping his body down to put more of his weight on you. He parts from your lips despite your whiny protests and presses kisses and nips to your jaw as he works his way to your neck. His arms unfurl from around your waist so his hands can settle on your hips and let his thumbs massage into your skin. You’re pawing at his vest as he works on leaving a love bite on your pulse point below your ear, and—surprisingly—he moves away to shake the jacket-vest combo off and drop it beside you. You eye the fit of his t-shirt and it makes your mind fog up.

All your focus is on the shape of his tummy against the fabric. The way the material sticks to him and shows all the harsh angles of his toned chest. The fact that he had cut off the bottom hem of his top and when he moves the right way you can see that trail of hair on his lower stomach. The shape of his arms under the sleeves. Does he work out? Considering his lack of discipline, you couldn’t imagine him having an exercise regimen, but dear god. His arms weren’t absurdly cut, but they were still thick with enough muscle that his sleeves seem a little tight. You can see the veins of his forearms and the blown out ink on his skin. When he’s on top of you again, sucking on your neck, you let your hands drag over his back and sneak underneath his shirt. The heat of his skin and the moving musculature alone making your toes curl. You’re happy to have him on you, but you wanted that damn shirt off too. You’re grasping at the fabric and pulling it up, gasping when he bites on your neck for doing so.

“Take that shit off-“ You huff, making a smile tug at his lips.

“Using my lines now, doll?” He purrs once he’s raised up again and grasping behind his head to pull his shirt over it. You can’t even think of a smart reply, your brain short circuiting at the sight of his naked torso. Even though you enjoy it, you never really understood his urge to bite. You sure do now. You shift from laying on your back to sit up in front of him while he remains raised up on his knees. Your hands slide up his stomach, feeling the goosebumps that raise in the wake of your cold fingertips. He’s still for once and you bring your hands back down to pull on his belt, fighting against the stiff leather to slide it out of the buckle.

You’ve never given head before, mainly because the only time there was an opportunity it had been with a guy you didn’t even like that much who kept trying to push your head down while you were kissing; but you felt feverish with thoughts of Eddie’s dick down your throat. While rushing to go down on him was the last thing you had on your mind at the start of your day, after he was so sweet on you, you were desperate to taste him.

Eddie’s breath is staggered as he watches you undo his jeans, his pupils all blown out. He can’t even count how many times he’s fantasized about those lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew after everything that he didn’t deserve to go first. Fuck, he wanted to, but he doesn’t deserve it. Belt open and slack and jeans undone, he grabs your hands to pin them over your head once you were pushed back onto the floor and he leans down to kiss you. One hand holds the side of your face and the other is pulling the zipper on your hip down, muttering a you first against your lips.

Before tugging at your skirt skort, Eddie pulled away again to lift your shirt off. He grew irritable for a moment with the long sleeves that fought him, tossing it aside harshly with a grumble that made you giggle. That gentle laugh was the only thing that lightened his mood again and encouraged a small smile before he continued. He kisses down your body, giving you the occasional bite. There are little things that he does along the way that make parts of you feel beautiful—parts that you either don’t pay attention to or even aren’t fond of. It’s an odd thing considering how mean he always is, but he seems to show a devotion to each and every inch of your skin that wouldn’t occur to most men. The way his hands slide along your sides as he makes his way down your chest, giving you the occasional squeeze. The way his arms slip around your midsection and bring you closer to his face with a press to the small of your back, smothering his face between your breasts still covered by a flimsy, lace bra—breathing in the scent of your skin. The way his hold relaxes as he continues down, just to squeeze you to him again when he finds a new spot he wants to smother himself in. One side of your tummy underneath your ribs. The slight rise of your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. Your hip bones.

You’re so drunk on his touch at first that it doesn’t even occur to you where this is leading until he’s already face-to-face with the center of your underwear.

“E-Eddie- no-“ You squeak out suddenly. “Not that.”

He lifts his head to eye you curiously and with surprise at the denial of getting head, lips parted in a question that you interrupt.

“I’m on my period, remember?”

Eddie half-jerks his shoulder up in a careless shrug. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“It’s just… it’s so messy and bloody. I wouldn’t even want you to eat me out right now if I was still mad at you.”

“Doll, c’mon…” He groans while pressing his face into your inner thigh—not to try and convince you to give consent cause he doesn’t care about this boundary, but rather to show how badly he wants to do this. That he doesn’t care about the mess and he doesn’t think it’s gross, in fact he found it hot. If you were sitting in his bed or in his passenger seat and got your period, his perv ass probably wouldn’t even try to remove the stain.

“I want to.” He insists, pulling away again to look up at you. “I think it would be so fucking hot. It’ll help the pain, princess.”

You consider the offer for a moment, wondering if he’s right. If he could make you feel so good that he’d reach and clear out those aches and pains that Tylenol couldn’t even touch. You still shake your head, the thought of all that blood on his tongue and the smell in his nostrils making you nervous and embarrassed. He groans again and dramatically flops into your stomach to hide his face.

“Not with your mouth.” You clarify, cheeks all rosy.

At that, he finally raises his head with a raised brow and his bangs all messy.

“Oh yeah?”

He’s sitting up now, settling back against folded legs as he raises your legs one by one to take your shoes off and toss them randomly. You tilt your head to watch one sneaker smack the back of the passenger seat, then look to the side to watch your second sneaker smack into the interior with a vibrating clunk. After taking off your shoes, your ankles are lightly settled on his shoulders and he has his hands wrapped around your calves as he tilts his head to press a kiss to the inside of one ankle. Then he’s moving to bite the inside of the opposite knee.

After that, he skips right back to your lips, your legs parted to settle on either side of him now. Eddie hooks his fingertips into the band of your underwear and pulls them down, having to begrudgingly separate enough so you can bend your knees up to your chest while he tugs them off your legs. He’s about to casually pull on the string of your tampon when you shake your head quickly and clasp your hand over your entrance.

“I’ll- I’ll do it.” You murmur and he’s (once again) groaning irritably.

He wishes you wouldn’t be so sheepish about it. He can understand the experience of your period not being the most comfortable thing in the world, but he doesn’t know what he has to do to show that he likes it. That he wants to go down on you and wipe that mess off of his face with pride, therefore not needing to look away at your insistence while you take out your tampon. Maybe it’s his pride in being a freak. Maybe it’s a slight twinge of superiority, knowing that he was one of the few guys that would even offer in the first place. Maybe it’s that breeding kink flaring up at what he saw as a glaring reminder that you could possibly get pregnant with his kid. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s you. But he lets you do it yourself, holding in his usual attitude for the sake of your sensitivity for once, then leaning back down to kiss you the second you give the okay.

The kiss doesn’t have as much of an apologetic gentleness as the others, but it was passionate and it was hot. The heavy breathing and groping and spit; the taste of cigarettes and mint; the scratch of slight stubble and the bump of his nose against yours. Eddie shot a hand out to feel for his jacket which he promptly crams under your tailbone to raise your hips, then dips his thumbs in the band of his exposed boxers to pull his pants and boxers down. (He didn’t take them off completely per usual, but you took getting him shirtless as your win).

Eddie pulls away just enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few good tugs before leading it to your entrance. He keeps an eye on your expression, plunging into you the moment his tip slid in. The few times he’s fucked you, you were always so messy and wet and warm, but this was enough to sign his soul away. You were soaked with arousal and blood as expected, but he wasn’t prepared for how much puffier you are like this. And so fucking hot. You mewl at the sensation, a dull ache in your lower abdomen at the start, but it’s slowly dissipating. Maybe it’s the association between blood and pain, and menstruation and pain, but you genuinely thought this would hurt more than usual—you certainly weren’t betting on your heightened sensitivity. Even that first stroke slipping into you lit up your nerves.

“‘S good, right?” He asks with a cocky grin, left hand wrapped around your right thigh and his right hand sliding over your tummy and slowly massaging the area.

You almost don’t want to admit it, but you do with a nod and pouty lips that have pathetic little whimpers slipping past them. Eddie slides back out a couple inches then pushes back into you, your toes curling as a bit of blood and arousal gushes and sputters out around his base. You curse under your breath, encouraging him to proceed. He’s uncharacteristically tender, and while seeing his sweet side today was a pleasant surprise—you just wanted him to fuck you.

“Eddie-“ You breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Please just fuck me.”

His grin is devilish and his gaze is fiery. He snaps his hips forward once without wasting a second, threatening to making your eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He leans down, his voice a condescending whisper as he stays infuriatingly still while this deep. “My baby come cryin’ cause ‘m too mean? But she still wants me to bully her little pussy?”

You whine and nod your head, his following thrusts nearly punching the breath out of your lungs. His hand rests over your pubic bone and starts rubbing at your clit as he fucks into you. Your head lolls back into the carpeting, breasts bouncing with his efforts.

“Such a good fucking slut for me. This pussy all mine?”

“Uh huh-“ You speak in a whiny moan, hips weakly pushing forward and he takes the hint.

Eddie pulls you forward by your hips and holds you close to him as he gives you breathtakingly shallow thrusts. Your eyes begin to water from the way he’s moving inside you and his thumb is brushing on your clit. His other hand parts from your hip to grip onto the center of your bra, pulling it down to free your breasts and to keep a steady grip on you by the fabric clasped around your chest.

“Eddie-” You sob, and an earth-shattering sense of relief blows through him, leaving him temporarily wrecked before settling again like a gust of wind pushing up bird feathers before they smooth out again. Finally seeing those globs of tears in your eyes in the way he loves brought that balance back, and he’s doubling his efforts. Your lips part and your back arches up off of the carpet of his van, those wet streaks leading from your eyes back into your hair just like they were on Friday.

You’re counting your blessings that you aren’t back in your bed with your parents down the hall during your make up session because even the fear of being caught wouldn’t have been able to stop the moan that gasps from your lungs when you cum around him. All the tension and hormones and yearning of this week mixing with the overpowering pleasure he’s giving you, all culminating to this very moment and making you see stars. You feel like you’ve been temporarily shoved under water, all of the sounds around you muffling—even the sound of your own breathing. Just as you’re floating back up to the surface, Eddie’s leaning down to place his lips on yours. His large hands cover both sides of your face as he’s kissing you like he means it, only letting his hands part from your cheeks to wrap around your midsection and scoop you up while he sits back.

“Fuck-” You breathe out, hands settling to cradle the back of his head. You’re sure you look as disheveled as you feel. He thinks you look incredible.

“I know right?” He teases, all smug even in this quieter tone of voice and he laughs when you smack at his arm.

He eyes you from where his face is level with your chest, watching the playful irritation melt from your expression as he starts thrusting up into you. You’re almost too overstimulated from him moving so close to your orgasm that was still pulsing in the aftershock, but fuck if this doesn’t feel too good to pause even for a moment. Eddie wraps his arms around you to finally unclasp your bra and fling it towards the front of his van, metal hooks clinking against the hard surface of his dashboard. His hands smooth over your back, groaning against your skin as he smothers himself between your breasts again, fucking up into you. You start bouncing on top of him to meet his thrusts, whimpering quietly at the fluttering still rippling through your walls. You still have that palpable pulse inside you, squeezing around him and making it incredibly difficult to not cum before he can get you to let go at least one more time.

“C’n you cum for me, doll? Gimme one more?” He finally separates from your chest to look up at you again and while you were always the one looking fucked out, when you look at him you can’t help but feel like you’re seeing him the same way. A faint shine to his doe eyes glossed over with lust, that rosy tint to his cheeks, and the swell of his pink lips. You nod, but your hips buck in disagreement when his touch is back on your clit. It’s admittedly too soon, your eyes burning with prickling tears as the pleasure jolts through you like shocks of electricity rather than rolling waves—but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop.

You gasp out his name, fingers gripping the hair all damp with perspiration at the nape of his neck. You feel like you’re vibrating and the cramping in your stomach nearly makes you break and ask him to stop nudging at that sensitive bud. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, hearing him groan against your skin, feeling his hot breath on your chest. The two of you are moving like the universe would simply unravel if you stopped—as if it isn’t already unraveling in this moment.

“Oh my god-“ You moan and Eddie’s sinking his teeth into your breast—partly to punctuate his claim, partly to muffle his own sounds as he unloads inside of you.

You’re trembling in his lap with soft sobs in the aftershock of probably the most heart-stopping, all-consuming orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Even the slightest touch to your flushed skin sent shocks throughout your nerves and made you cry out, so Eddie stays still.

When both of your hearing is clear again, and you swallow to bring some moisture back to your throat—you let out a small laugh. It isn’t malicious or mocking. It rose up out of pure joy and relief and (honestly) a bit of surprise at everything that’s happened. And it all happened so quickly, you aren’t sure if your memory was able to keep up. God, you hoped it was. You want to relive it every time you close your eyes at night.

Eddie’s licking his lips and pulling back to look at you, a few laughs of his own bubbling up. Like always, he isn’t quick to pull out, but he does set you back down onto the carpet and press a few kisses to your jaw. His hands are pressed into the floor on either side of your head, pulling up his upper body to look down at you. Your hair is messy around your face, and streaks of mascara are all muddled around your eyes and down your cheeks. He put all of his weight on one arm to allow his other hand to raise up and swipe at those black streaks with his thumb before settling back down to kiss you, one arm still pressed up and bent at the elbow and the other settling his forearm on the rug.

The kiss is slower, but still sloppy with exhaustion. He pulls back one more time just to smile down at your face and ends up right back to kissing you seconds later.

*

The sun is setting in Hawkins and the two of you are all over each other until you realize how late it had gotten and your lips might as well have been ready to fall off. But even when you’re dropped off at home with excuses ready, he still climbed in through that bedroom window to keep kissing you once everyone in the house retired for the night.

After all, you finally left it unlocked and he couldn’t stand another week out in the cold.

*

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day... ↓

CLICK ON YOUR ENDING OF CHOICE:

fluffy ❤️

angsty 💔

taglist: @mynameismothra @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @elvendria @psychospore @daisyridleyyyy @sidthedollface2 @kelsiegrin @swiss-cheeze @darknesseddiem @magnificantmermaid @hazydespair @bonehead-playz @stephanie-nicks76 @madaboutjoe @homiesexual-or-homosexual @neobanguniverse @prestinalove @galaxyfxcs @canyonmooncreations @hereforshmut @ediewentmissing @sadest-bookshelf @harlowsgirl @damon-loves-pie @stardustmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @bitchyseawitch @littlered0000

*note: if you requested to be tagged and you’re not there it’s because tumblr’s saying your acct doesn’t exist 🫠

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #bully!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #as if eddie munson #stranger things imagine #as if eddiessluttywaist #as if part 3 #as if part 3 eddiessluttywaist

[where-dreamers-go]

“Blanket” Jonathan Crane x Fem! Reader

(A/N: Another older insert reader from about two years ago that I finally got around to finishing. Here’s one where Jonathan and Reader were both celebrating that neither of them had crossed paths with Batman for a whole week. Then things kind of heat up from there. Jonathan still needs the reassurance that Reader is being true in their relationship because he’s not used to that. This is kinda related to my previous Jonathan Crane fanfics discussing Batman’s opinion on their relationship. Minors Do Not Interact with this. Warnings: Minor angst, romance, first time together, lovemaking, hand job (both), unprotected sex, and mentions of Jonathan having past heartbreak. Word Count: 2,124 words)

~~~

A celebration was in order. A disguised excuse to be together and leaving adult responsibilities for another day.

Neither you nor Jonathan had crossed paths with the Batman for over a full work week. No captured Crane and you weren’t wrangled into another lecture about being too close to Scarecrow.

Honestly, it was a relief.

Over at your apartment, Jonathan had prepared dinner. A little something warm, hot, and homey. You had insisted cooking was his secret skill. The meal and time together was lovely. Something you cherished.

Cleaning the dishes could had been worse, but at least the plate didn’t break when it slipped from your grasp.

You were lucky. Yet it was a firm reminder to Jonathan and yourself that you were capable of being distracted.

Drying your hands, you could see Jonathan pushing his sleeves just that much further up to expose his forearms.

Could it be the glimpse of skin when he was otherwise all covered up?

Was it the lean muscle that lead to Jonathan’s dexterous hands?

Maybe you simply missed holding his hand after a long week?

Probably all of the above. And then some. You did adore the man for all that he was and would be.

The towel stilled in your hands as Jonathan’s arms encircled your waist.

“Do you have any after-dinner plans?” Asked Jonathan, his breath tickling your ear.

“I was thinking we could watch a movie,” you said and hung the kitchen towel up to dry. “Maybe share that really soft blanket I got a few weeks ago.”

“Sounds very domestic.”

“And I’m hoping to keep it that way. You know.” You gestured towards the windows on the other side of the living room. Ones that had been covered with curtains all evening.

“He couldn’t be that irritating.” Jonathan tightened his hold around you.

“It’s been a week…”

The two of you grew silent. Lost in thoughts of the Batman dropping by to lure you away from Doctor Crane. Again.

So much for getting handsy in the kitchen.

Sighing, your shoulders lowered. “I just wanted a little celebration with a sprinkle of romance. No fear of nocturnal creatures.”

Jonathan’s lips met your ear. “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”

You tilted your head. “More annoyed, I think.”

Humming, he pressed a firm kiss to your exposed neck.

“More annoying still that we’re talking about him when I finally have you all to myself. A great feat these days.” You smiled contently as Jonathan continued giving slow, strategically placed kisses. “And…we could just shut off all the lights,” you suggested.

“Skip the movie.”

“Get under the blanket.”

“Share body heat.”

“And a few other things?” You folded your arms over Jonathan’s, hopeful.

His lips curved upward against your skin. Lean hips pressed closer to you from behind.

“I’ll get the lights,” he whispered.

“Meet you on the couch.”

You turned your head and gave Jonathan a long, generous kiss. One you two would surely continue.

Jonathan slipped out of your grasp and gave you a head start. Stilling his hand by the light-switch, he was patient.

You were quick to cross the floor. Unfolding the new blanket in a rush, you laid it across the couch cushions.

In the second it took you to glance over to your partner, the apartment went dark. Save for the candles on the dining table that flickered, forgotten as you sat on the couch.

“Hmm, this blanket is really soft,” you murmured.

“Debatable.”

His foot bumped yours on the floor.

“With what?” You reached up and gently tugged him on the couch beside you.

In turn, he grabbed ahold of your thighs and pulled you fully on the couch, legs draped over his lap.

“With what’s underneath,” he said and gave your thighs a squeeze.

“Sweet and suggestive words.”

“You suggested we share other things.” He inched his fingers further up your thigh.

Humming quietly, you took your time as you unbuttoned his dress shirt. Working your way up, you listened to the sound of his breathing subtly changing. Fingers skimming over his heartbeat. Strong and more noticeable in the position you two were in. Then, having found his neck in the dark, you leaned in to kiss his throat.

Jonathan sucked in a breath.

Sliding your fingers along his skin, you pushed his shirt passed his shoulders, soon discarding it over the back of the couch. You took your time caressing his shoulders and arms. Kissing your way down his slender neck.

His fingers dug into your nice clothes. A soft moan left him as your hands explored his chest.

“I’ve missed you.” You murmured. “All of you. Your mind, your eyes, your voice, your touch…” You kissed his lips slowly and whispered, “Undress me.”

Jonathan pulled at fabric feebly, too busy kissing you again.

Finding his hands, you guided Jonathan as he removed your clothes piece by piece. Slender fingers glided over your skin and eliciting small gasps from yourself as he touched with cold fingertips. Chills ran across your skin.

“Is this alright?” Jonathan asked softly and a little hesitant, hands stilled at your waist.

“I’m with you. Of course this is all right.”

Chuckling, he gave you a quick kiss. Then one more as you took his hands in yours once again.

The pair of you removed the rest of your undergarments before you straddled his lap. Jonathan’s hands rested along your upper back as he gazed upon you in the candlelight.

“Your body is as lovely as your mind.”

Pulling yourself in closer, you thanked your partner with a deep kiss. You felt his exhale as he held you to him. Chests warming between two quick heartbeats.

“I finally get you all to myself,” you whispered against his lips, running your fingers through his hair. “Just us.” You kissed a path down his skin.

“Yes,” he breathed out, “If anyone ruins this, I’ll give them three doses of fe—.”

His words were cut off as your teeth grazed his neck.

You pressed a kiss to his skin; likely reddening. “Good, but I think we’ll be,” you pulled down the zipper of his trousers, “just fine.”

“Agreed.” He swallowed.

Lifting up his hips and fussing around with more articles of clothes, soon Jonathan was as bare as you. Vulnerable and flustered with how close you two had become.

“You okay?” You asked, palm against his burning cheek.

“Sitting with anticipation.”

“You and me both.”

Jonathan placed a hand over yours on his cheek and smiled.

Held together by languid kisses and roaming hands, the pair of you took your time. No rush to get anywhere later nor hide. Lovers memorizing the slight curves of the other. Discovering beautiful imperfections and how it felt to give passionate affections.

You knew Jonathan had held so many doubts before either of you had seen the other’s apartment. To be wrapped around the other, bare and on your couch, was an enormous step towards ensuring each other’s deep adoration.

“Let me take care of you a bit, yeah?” You delicately pushed up his glasses before slowly dragging that hand down his body.

Jonathan shivered under your touch. Yet not as much as when your hand grasped around his member.

You smirked, moving your hand up and down repetitively. Gently, of course, for your dear Jonathan.

He relaxed onto the couch. Soft moans leaving his lips every so often.

There was no need to hurry. Everyday came and went with many tasks. The time alone together in your apartment did not require any of that.

“You look so gorgeous like this,” you confessed, feeling quite content with yourself.

To see your Jonathan comfortable and sighing in pleasure may have also given you a confidence boost. You were doing this with him. He deserved some time to unwind. To have his mind on something he never had before, not without lies at least.

You would never dare to consider the thought of hurting him. Seeing him burdened with his past was enough to claw at your own heart. You never wished to be the cause of it. Jonathan held a special place in your heart and always would.

Leaving the hold he had on your hips, one of Jonathan’s hands started exploring the wetness between your legs.

“Oh.” He breathed out.

You closed your eyes. Loosing yourself in his touch.

Jonathan Crane was indeed an intelligent man. Inventive as he was caring, in your experience with him.

So why did it surprise you that he was giving as much as you were?

Perhaps subconsciously you imagined leading him by the hand with encouraging words as you shared body heat in the most unrestrained form of connection. Perhaps you thought he’d be too nervous. Perhaps, in your anticipation, you forgot how Jonathan had grown to initiate affection with you, his partner.

Could you be that silly or were you in love?

What was the difference?

Kissing his chin, you removed your hands from Jonathan.

“Lay with me?” Reclining onto the cushions, the blanket was soft along your bare skin.

He nodded. Following after you and your body heat. Jonathan pressed multitudes of kisses across your shoulders and neck. All of them soft and barely hiding his rapid breathing. He kept himself propped up on his arms. Ones you gladly held onto.

A light gasp escaped him as you made room for him between your legs. In response, Jonathan laid an openmouthed kiss just below your ear. Delicately, he adjusted his hips to align with yours.

It was a wonder how close you could be and yet still not be close enough.

Rocking your hips, you aided his member to run along your folds. You closed your eyes at the pleasurable sensations that zipped through you. Between his kisses and his movements, it was beginning to consume your mind.

“I need you.”

Your whisper caused Jonathan to stop moving.

“Are you sure?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you properly.

“Very sure, Jonathan. And… Oh, please know I want this. You. Truly.” You cradled his face between your hands. “I want to be with you.”

Behind eyeglasses, emotions swirled in Jonathan’s eyes.

“Just us.”

Leaning down, Jonathan kissed you fervently. All lips and panting hot breaths. He released his emotions full heartedly.

You felt as he guided his tip to your entrance.

Your sudden moan startled him, if only for a second. He managed to see your smile. Amongst the semidarkness, he found one of your hands to hold.

“Easy,” you used your free hand to hold his hip as he eased himself into your warmth. A moan left you, mixing into a giddy laugh and back to a moan. “Good.”

“Good?” Jonathan asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Very.” You kissed his lips eagerly.

You almost came then.

Safe and adored, you could be in his arms forever. Just like that. In the quiet and peaceful night without a care of what happened outdoors. It was you and Jonathan. All you wanted.

A gasp shot out of you as Jonathan gave a particularly pleasant thrust. You tightened your hold on him.

“Oh, Jonathan.”

Could you both have more?

More time together to explore domestic bliss and passionate moments between work life would be an extended goal. One you were adding onto each day whether consciously or not. You would be with Jonathan because you both wanted to. No one could convince you otherwise.

“Darlin’, you’re—,” Jonathan inhaled sharply, “—so beautiful.” His words raced out as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

Your legs were squeezing around him, limbs locked tightly while you both met your pelvises together again and again.

“Don’t stop. Please… Jonathan.”

Sucking in much needed air, you shut your eyes. You let your body do what it craved, thrusting and quivering until it all came to a peak. It hit you like a wave.

Faintly, you could hear a ramble. A repetitive chant of your name.

You opened your eyes.

A loud gasp came from Jonathan as he quickly removed himself from you. His climax rushed through him quickly. Hands clasping the blanket as he came over you.

In a huff, Jonathan fell into your embrace. His hot breath fanned across your collarbone.

“We did it,” he whispered breathlessly, almost to himself.

“And it was amazing by the way.”

You could almost picture him flushing at your words.

Kissing the side of his head, you wrapped your arms around his back.

“Later, do you wanna take a shower, handsome?”

“A shower?”

“Yeah…” You ran a finger along his spine. “You’re welcome to stay over. Please?”

“I would not think to refuse.” Jonathan kissed your collarbone. “I’ll surely sleep well with you, darlin’.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @

DC Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x f! reader #female reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane fluff #smut #where dreamers go #dc comics #jonathan crane fanfic #it's been a while since I wrote for Jonathan Crane #dr crane #doctor jonathan crane x reader #doctor jonathan crane

[whumpshaped]

u guys r so.. (affectionate) i cannot believe i got 5 requests for 2 prompts

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, dehumanisation (the whole chapter is just that, literally), conditioning, manipulation, just a lot of mind games really

"Don't you ever think that maybe this is extremely fucked up?" Beck asked suddenly, unable to pretend that any of this was normal for a single moment longer. It probably helped that Helle was in the living room, while he was slicing vegetables in the kitchen, so he could pretend he was safer than usual.

The noise from the living room stopped instantly at the question. He didn't know what Helle had been doing, but evidently, they weren't doing it anymore. No, instead they walked right over to the kitchen, all because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"What is?" they asked from the door.

"I... all of it! I don't even know where to start, I, I am housing a vampire!" He turned to look at them, clutching the knife like his life depended on it. "Don't you– don't you ever think that this is all very– very cruel?"

"Well, I need to eat."

"No. No, that's not what you're doing. You're purposely tormenting me, making it more painful than it has to be–"

"Oh, I apologise. Should I perhaps go to the market, then, and pick up some 'ethically sourced' human blood?" They were only teasing, Beck reminded himself. There was no such market for blood. There wasn't. This wasn't a thing. "I should sell yours that way. You are free-range, are you not? Not tainted by any magic... that is rare. What else... well, you are not stress-free, but that can always change."

"None of this is ethical!" he snapped, way too defensive because of the joke about his blood being sold off. "Stop, stop being so nonchalant about it! This is my life! This is fucked up, you're ruining it, you're, you hurt me every single day–"

"What is the alternative?" they cut in calmly, but Beck could only give them a blank stare. Alternative? "What should I do instead? Starve? Or should I pluck out all those silly little thoughts about cruelty-free bloodletting from your head by use of magic? What do you suggest?"

Beck raised the knife, more and more terrified with each word. "N-no, don't, don't do that, do not do that–" A piece of onion fell from the blade to the floor with a little wet plop, possibly undermining his entire attempt at intimidating the vampire.

"That was very cruel to the onion, you know. Callous. How would you feel if I dropped you from the window right now?"

"I'm, I'm not a fucking piece of onion..." he said desperately, slowly realising that the more he made Helle talk about their opinions and feelings on humans, the more terrifying the situation got for him. "You... do you actually think it's the same principle..?"

"Similar in nature, certainly." They leaned against the door frame, surveying his expression with an easy smile. "Why? Is it unnerving to you, as the food source? But I presented you with two other avenues, you know."

"I, I don't want to be enthralled," he said quickly. "Please, I don't want that."

"What a coincidence! Me neither. That is why you are not enthralled. But unfortunately, I also do not wish to starve." They shrugged. "That means we will have to bite the bullet and continue in this cruel fashion, does it not? Or perhaps you just want me out of your life forever, not caring who else I might take for myself, because at least I am not being cruel to you. Is that it?"

"No, that's– that's not what I'm saying..."

"So what are you saying?"

"I... I don't know," he said quietly, lowering the knife. It was a blatant lie. In reality, he was thinking the exact thing Helle had pointed out. He just wanted them out of his house, out of his life, and out of his mind. He didn't think about others that he might put in danger. Honestly, he was probably keeping everyone in the area safe just by being Helle's long-term bloodbag... but why him? Why him?

"Does it scare you? To be selfish like that? Does it remind you of how you see me?"

"N-no, it's not even... it's not even close, it's not comparable..."

"Mmm, sure." They nodded towards the piece of onion on the floor. "This must be causing you immense distress if you can just leave that there. At any other time you would already be disinfecting."

"I just want you to be less cruel," he whispered, ignoring the taunt. "That's all. That's all I want. But you don't care, do you? You see nothing wrong with any of this."

Helle's smile widened, and Beck just knew they were about to say something that would break him further. "No. I do not. And you know why?" They walked into the kitchen and picked up the onion from the floor. "For the same reason you did not even care to pick this up. It does not matter to you. You do not stop to wonder whether it feels hurt, or whether you are being cruel by slicing it into pieces. You do not care if a piece falls, you do not care if you have to put it in the trash, it is absolutely inconsequential to you. Not worth a thought." They gently placed it on the counter, wiping their hand off on Beck's shirt. "So no, I do not usually think about whether it is 'fucked up' or 'cruel'. You are doing what you need to do to eat, and I am doing the same. If some parts of you fall along the way, well... let us hope there is someone there to pick them up."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #dehumanisation #conditioning #manipulation

[thrumbolt]

So, in November my girlfriend gifted my all the Dragon Age games because our DnD sessions were cancelled. 'Go date some elves there!' - and so I did. I went in completely blind, knew basically nothing about the series (except that you could date elves). So now, a month after finishing the last one, I feel my thoughts have rested enough to voice an opinion™. I'll drop my personal ratings here and elaborate under the cut.

Dragon Age: Origins 8/10

Dragon Age Awakening 6/10

Dragon Age 2 9/10

Dragon Age: Inquisition 4/10

Dragon Age: Trespasser 7/10

In short, I thought DA:O was pretty dope. Very solid adventure rpg fantasy dating sim. The characters are very fun and mostly lovable and the lore is interesting enough even if the art direction was pretty generic fantasy.

I was really surprised just how much they crammed into this game. The several different origins was a huge surprise and very nice incentive to replay the game, though so far I only played as a melf (mage elf). The storyline was engaging enough for me to follow and it makes you travel to all the different origin places, so everyone gets to connect with something in the main plot - smart!

I have to add however that I played as a male character - as I usually do - and I am very glad I did because despite the promise that men and women are equal (and the dominant religion being female centric) the writers did not really manage to capture that as it seems haha. I would've probably given the game a lower rating if I wouldn't have played as a dude as I'm a sensitive snowflake that way. And not even because of the rape as plot device or the brood mothers, but more the casual 'wow a woman with sword wow' stuff. I'll excuse it as 'it was a different time' kinda, but still would ruin my immersion.

Awakening I mention separately as it's kind of a sequel rather than just a DLC. I liked it. It's a nice extra adventure for your Warden character and the companions are very good (though I could've done without Oghren, sorry Oghren fans). I especially liked the Legion of the dead dwarf, she was adorable - and Anders, of course. You can give him a kitty!

So why am I rating it so low? They changed how shit works, don't tell you about it and it makes you miss half the game lol. Idk, it just pissed me off you had to click on background shit to talk to your companions and I didn't notice it until I was already halfway done. It's such a stupid idea, too. Click on this tree to talk to Nathaniel?? Weird tbh. It's especially bad for me, as I am not playing a lot of games (I am a filthy casual) and am not a completionist - also I already know who Andraste is, so why would I click her statue?

So yeah, that's my personal gripe with Awakening. At least it's short enough to replay, so hopefully I will catch all the stuff next time haha.

Dragon Age 2....ahh, I was very surprised to hear that it was so unpopular, several of my friends said they had not played it at all because they heard it was so bad. And I am very confused, because it is my favorite. I can see how it got flack for being on a smaller scale, the dungeons and areas repeat - but honestly, I didn't care much. I enjoyed the smaller scale and the more personal story greatly. I feel it makes more sense for a 'choice' based game anyway, as it lets you tell more stories without problems. And in this instance, a story about a refugee family and a bigger focus on social justice issues just vibed well with me. I can see how it's not everyone's cake I guess, but it's definitely worth playing! I think it has the best companions in all the games. They're all great fun and the dating options are amazing. I personally prefer when everyone is date-able by either gender - it makes me not having to worry and research ahead of time on what character to make (looking at you inquisition) and I can just headcanon for myself who is queer, straight, whatever. Yes, I might still be upset I wasn't able to date Alistair haha in DA:O.

I loved the 3 act structure and longer time period. I liked how people you meet/help in your side quests write you letters or get updates. I just loved how personal it was.

My only gripes with DA2 is the rushed Act 3 (can't even give everyone another gift ;_; ) and how the ending was handled. Chosing between templars and mages - sure, fun. But when you choose the mages, how come 80% of the people you are fighting are mages? Why is Orsino turning into an abomination and attacking *you*? It makes no sense. Poor Orsino. They did him dirty.

But otherwise I had great fun. Needless to say this game cemented my chantry hate lol. Doesn't help I live in a pretty gay oppressing catholic country now, but it felt fucking personal. I cheered when that fucking building blew up. It was cathartic. So I was hyped for the next game!

Which leads me to Inquisition. By the rating you can already see: I didn't like this game. For many reasons. The church dick riding was definitely one of them. But I mean, if you write it well I probably wouldn't have minded to get a different viewpoint (and there was still plenty of critical content in this game like with the former Inquisitor and all), sadly though, for me it didn't work in so many ways.

First of all I had to restart the game after 30 minutes because my girlfriend told me I can only date the elves if I'm a girl. Gee, good to know, or my tripple elf combo would've been ruined.

And I have to say: I liked how un-segregated the whole gender selection screen was. I got to make a pretty boyish looking twink even by choosing female, up to the point I was forgetting I was playing a girl until someone called me LADY Lavellan and ruined my immersion, so....props to that. I also liked the art design? Like all the little character cards, all the artworks just felt like they finally found their own style, kinda. (This was already started in DA2, which I really liked, I feel this series needs it's own, distinct look in some way, so it was nice to see they were trying to). Anyway, nice looks.

But the gameplay immediately felt weird and sluggish to me. It was way too hard even on the easiest setting. Enemies take FOREVER to die, even a stupid wolf or bear takes a gazillion hits. It wasn't fun. Not for me anyway, just tedious.

And the story....I just didn't feel it. It didn't help that you don't even have a proper origin (for a good while you have amnesia even). It made it difficult to even understand my own motivations imho. Playing it as an elf was definitely a bad choice as well, as this whole plot was clearly written with a human in mind. Pretty wild a DALISH elf is even an option. If they kept you as a prisoner, it would've made sense, maybe? But it just feels off to put this random Dalish immediately on top of your organization and calling them the herald of Andraste even though you keep insisting you don't even believe in that stuff haha. A wild ride indeed. Also I screamed at the whole 'Dalish only have 3 mages per clan and just YEET THE EXTRA CHILDREN INTO THE FOREST TO DIE' retcon. It absolutely makes zero sense with how the Dalish were described up to that point (as people who greatly care for their own and also really want to honor and learn about their roots. They know the elves were all originally magical. Why would they have a fucking mage limit. Why would they yeet a child out to die when they already suffer from diminishing numbers? What the FUCK Inquisition?).

The maps were too big, the game is sooo bloated and the main plot for the larger part completely disconnected from everything else (and also, pretty short in theory). Because of this, the pacing was kind of off. The war table....the WAR table. I did not like it. So many things that got shoved there should've been quests, while many of the actual quests should've just been deleted. And apparently my whole clan can just die in a small war table side thing and no one will care. lol

I also did not vibe with most of the companions that much. I liked Dorian a lot, but other than that most were just a lot of missed opportunities. Like, they were ok, but not as great as any of the other games.

Though I feel nothing quite shows the pacing issues of this game like Solas' romance haha. I still can't believe he breaks up with you immediately after kissing you and offering to take your vallaslin. It would've made so much more sense if he left during the ending party ceremony. What were they thinking?

Generally my issue was how a lot of characters just talk at you, not so much with you. You ask them questions, but they hardly ever ask you questions back, even though it would've been a great way to learn more about your characters backstory as well. I think Josephine was one of the only characters who ever asks how you're holding up. In the other games, it is way more interactive.

This resulted in me just never really connecting as much in Inquisition. Felt more like hanging with coworkers than friends. It was also weird how everyone acts like you're achieving great things, when really, none of it is something you do. The inquisition itself, the army, it already exists. Solas literally just points at Skyhold (you do not even have to fight anything to get it) and so on.

I hated that you have an animated main plot cut scene where your Dalish elf asks a human who Mythal is. And of course I really disliked how the mage rebellion was handled. Why do I have to choose between templars and mages AGAIN when, in this game at least, being able to recruit both would've kinda made more sense? Unite against a bigger enemy, bla. I wouldn't have super liked it as a resolution for the mage oppression issue, but at least it would've given that conflict SOME form of resolution.

So yeah. Did not enjoy it that much. Was very surprised to learn how many did and that it won game of the year. Maybe it would've been more enjoyable just on its own, without context, but coming in right after DA2 it was quite the clash in my opinion.

There was definitely potential for a good game. It had good elements. I think they fixed a bunch of issues in Trespasser, which I quite enjoyed. But I kind of am not looking AS much forward to the 4th installment. I'll play it for sure, but I feel the writers just want to do something different with this series than what I enjoy about it.

Overall though I still had great fun! I like Dragon Age. Seeing everyone's oc's is so cute and I will definitely keep on enjoying that no matter what.

#I want to remind everyone that all this is just my opinion #Of course some people will completely disagree with me #and that's ok! #so don't feel bad if I say something negative about something you liked #im glad u got something out of it #Dragon Age #dragon age: inquisition critical #? i guess #this is a very long post oh god #also yes I have a mage and elf bias I AM SORRY

[srslyspiderman]

mk so i had this FREAKY dream about Webster(spidersona) and Miguel. but the thing is Webster and Miles are pretty similar in comparison since Webster is just me.. and im similar to Miles,, so... yeah!! so im thinking.. how about i take this as an opportunity to right a freaky ass fic or smth based off that? well ur opinion doesn't matter bc HERE WE GO!!! In 1st person bc it's the only way I can write. :')

— — — woah, the mans a vamp?! — — —

I had always wanted to be apart of the Spider-Society, I always loved the idea of being.. "official" and that place was my one-way ticket to that. Being an "official Spider-Man".. what a dream! I was on my way to Miguel's office-like place and honestly the walk wasn't so bad, I had already gotten my own watch.. well wristband; this way I wouldn't glitch out and die or.. something like that! Once I got there he was lowering himself down on a platform of some sort but he didn't say a word, it was pure silence the entire time.. I had to break it, I had to say SOMETHING.

"So..how's it going big guy? You're awfully quiet," I started, he didn't have anything to say he was just tapping on some holograms doing some lame junk that I couldn't care for so I continued talking "I was thinking... I could be apart of the Spider-Society! I'm pretty helpful in my universe and I think I could be preeeettttyy useful here too!" I don't remember what I said after but I just couldn't stop blabbing at the mouth and I'm sure he said something but I couldnt hear him over how excited I was, I was so lost in my own words I hadn't heard a single word he said to me. He talks to low anyway so..not my fault! However, I guess that made him think I was ignoring him.. which didn't make him the happiest of people. Before I knew it he lunged at me and was pressing me against a wall, he arm pressing against my throat.

"COULD YOU STOP TALKING? YOU'RE VOICE IS SO SICKENING TO LISTEN TO. YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?" his fangs retracted which honestly scared me, but IM SPIDERMAN. I'd be okay and bounce back up again, those dumb fangs couldn't possibly do a numher on me. Either way.. he couldn't hurt someone who's important, right?

"Hey man, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings I just thought maybe I could help-" He didn't like the fact I kept mentioning helping him, I could tell by the way he was just.. LOOKING at me. Like he wanted to kill me.

"Look kid, I don't need your help. I don't need any of the spider-people here but I can't wipe them all out because people all across the multiverse would drop like flies. Trust me, if I could I would've done it a while ago." Honestly I thought he was playing the role of a tough guy so I wanted to lighten the mood.

"Come onnn, why so sour? You and me could be a team! Check this out; Miguel O'Hairy-Legs and his amazingly charming side-kick, Webster! I could be like your kid, it'd-" He lifted me up into the air for just a moment and slammed me down onto the ground. I think I felt the floor break underneath me. I let out a groan and looked up at him.

"You aren't MY kid. You're just a random kid who just so happened to get some fucking powers, and you'll NEVER be anything more than that. A KID IN A SPIDER COSTUME. A FANBOY PLAYING DRESS-UP." I could see the spit coming out of his mouth, it was disgusting but it was all I could focus on with the amount of pain that was flowing through me from when he slammed me down. "Look, you're gonna go back home and live your life. And you won't be seeing anyone again, no Hobie. No Gwen. Not even Miles. You got it?"

"psh, who's gonna stop me? You're too busy cooped up in your office doing your lame work. You're just like a dad but.. without a k-" I think that's what really got to him, well, I know that's what got to him since before I could even finish my sentence I felt a sharp pain in my neck. My eyes widened as I lifted my hand up slowly but I felt a grip tighten around my wrist and lower it down with force. Miguel wasn't infront of me anymore.. he was to my side, biting down on my neck. The room was quiet like before, the silence that was so unbarable to sit through returned it also seemed to be dimming around me as I tried to push him off me but it didn't matter at that point, my entire body weakened and then everything just went black.

BOOM THE END 😱😱

#spiderman #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spidersona #spiderverse oc #spiderverse #fandom #fanfic #spiderverse fanfic

[smallestapplin]

Please can i have your opinions on Who you think would kiss who first in a reader x melli and/or reader x molayne situation ( just do 1 if you want or neither i dont wanna overwhelm you with asks) thank you ily xxx

Oh? Worm?? I’ll happily give you my little headcanons!

-

-

🪞Melli🪞

- he gave the first kiss!

- Melli kept trying to tempt you into kissing him, but you never budged. No matter how many times he loudly proclaimed “my lips are so immaculately soft! Anyone would be lucky to feel them!” His face bright red, staring at you.

- Yet you never made a move.

- Melli honestly found it so insulting. How dare you! He’s perfect! And your boyfriend! How dare you not kiss him the second two started dating!

- You had been visiting him after a rough mission, your body ached in pain, but you still wanted to see him! Melli had been so worried, unfortunately he can’t always leave at the drop of a hat when you’ve been injured. So the second he saw you he teared up, even more so when you smiled so brightly at him.

- You weren’t terribly hurt, but you had a noticeable limp in your walk.

- “Do you have any idea how worried I was!?”

- “I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You laugh sheepishly, hugging your worried boyfriend.

- You feel him shakily breathe against your shoulder.

- “Hey, I’m okay! I just got my legs taken out from under me, that’s all.”

- That didn’t seem to work but you two spent the rest of the day together, huddled up under the tree in the moon view arena. Your legs thrown across his as you leaned against his chest.

- He wasn’t as boastful today, you think you getting injured scared him.

- You’re pulled out of your thoughts when his soft hand cups your cheek and pulls you into a delicate and love filled kiss.

- His hand trembles against your cheek even as you melt into the kiss.

- “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

- “Wait really?”

- “…..the hero of Hisui truly is a moron, truly I adore you.”

- “WAIT REALLY!?”

- “Hush!”

-

🎮Molayne🎮

- You kissed first!

- This man has patience that’ll drive you insane. But he had a valid reason! He didn’t want to make your uncomfortable, so he thought letting you make the first move would be better.

- Problem? You literally had the same idea but that patience of his broke you.

- Anytime you two would get so close to kissing something or someone would interrupt and the moment was ruined.

- Even your Pokémon tried helping you ‘court’ your boyfriend.

- And he never made a move, thinking you’d say something but granted even he didn’t know what.

- But a date night at the observatory finally made you break. He had been so sweet the entire time, the night was filled with laughter, soft whispers, and him telling you every fact he knows he about the night sky.

- You could only stare at him lovestruck, the joy and contentment on his face made you fall even harder for him.

- The moonlight lit up his handsome face as he gushed about it. Molayne is just too perfect for you not to.

- You waited until he finished his sentence before tapping his shoulder.

- “Yeah?”

- “Can you bend down a little?”

- “Hm? Oh sure.”

- His smile ever left his face even as he lowered his head towards you. His face now closer, you place both your hands on his cheeks and pull him closer, lips locking in an passionate and sweet embrace.

- Molayne hums into the sweet kiss, happy he can finally get a taste of you. You both melt into the kiss, arms wrapping around each other, desperate to keep the other close.

- “Fucking finally.”

- You lightly headbutt him “shut up, you were no help!”

- Molayne can only laugh at your adorable suffering.

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokémon #pokemon fluff #pokemon melli x reader #pokemon molayne x reader #pokemon melli #pokemon molayne #pokemon headcanons

[kaymd0313]

Chapter Nineteen: Winter Formal

Warnings: Angst, Language, Physical Fight, Kissing, Mentions of Blood, and Mentions of Sex

AN: 4k words. So it's short, but very eventful. Got a few different POV's in here. I hope you enjoy <3

MINORS DNI

December 5th, 1985

I walked into the lunchroom and took my usual seat next to Robin.

“Robin, I need a favor.”

She looked over to me and smiled.

“Really? Cause I need one from you too. You first though.”

I gave her a confused look and then looked down to my lunch.

“Can you go dress shopping with me? I know you don’t care about the dance but I need one. And I know you’ll give me your honest opinion.”

I looked over to her and she still had a smile on her face.

“I’ll go, if you help me with my favor.”

I looked at her and nodded for her to continue.

“Vickie wants to go to the dance, she thinks it’s cool, and I need to find a way to ask her to it without her thinking I’m a basketcase. ‘Cause you know,”

She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“We don’t know if she swings that way….”

I paused and thought about it for a second.

“Well, if she doesn’t have a date, just ask her as a friend. Just be like, hey, I don't have someone to go with so we could make it like a friend thing. Or something along those lines.”

I looked up to her and it looked as if she was pondering what I said.

“You are a fucking genius.” she paused, “I’ll go shopping with you if this works.” 

She stood up and walked away and headed to where Vickie was sitting.

I turned my attention back to my plate and waited for her to come back. I looked up for a split second and was met with those big brown eyes. He was sitting at the Hellfire table, just looking at me. I looked away immediately. I couldn’t. I mean shit, I just asked Billy to the fucking dance. He told me to though. I shouldn’t feel bad. But I do.

Robin finally came back to the table which broke me away from my thoughts.

“Looks like we’re going dress shopping.” She said with a huge grin.

December 7th, 1985

I picked up Robin at about noon and we headed to Starcourt.

We went to a few stores and Robin found a dress she liked at The Gap.

I couldn’t find one that I liked for the life of me. Every dress was a god-awful color. Which was not something that I wanted.

After a while, we ended up at Macy’s. I immediately went to their women's section and started looking at their dresses. They had a few that actually caught my eye, so I grabbed them and headed to the dressing rooms.

I tried the first one on and walked out to get Robin’s opinion.

“Whaddya think?” I said as I gave a twirl.

She cocked her head and looked at me.

“Honestly, you look like a hot air balloon.”

I turned and looked at the mirror. She was right. I was a ball gown type deal and had way too many ruffles that made it look bigger.

I looked at Robin and nodded and headed back into the dressing room.

When I put the next dress on, I immediately hated the way it sat on me. I walked out with my arms akimbo.

Robin looked up from the magazine she found and her face turned to pure disgust.

“Oh god no!”

“I was thinking the same.” I said as I walked back into the room.

I let out an annoyed huff as I looked at the last two dresses.

I put on the one that I thought would look the best. It was a Princess Diana at the White House number and I loved it. I smoothed out the dress and walked out.

Robin looked up once again and her eyes went wide.

“Hubba hubba!”

I let out a light chuckle and turned to the mirror.

“I don’t care how many other dresses you have in there. This is the one!” she said as she walked up next to me.

“You think?” I said as I looked over to her.

“Oh trust me, I know!”

I lifted up the tag on the dress and looked at the price. Almost $200, to only wear it once? I rolled my eyes and dropped the tag. 

Who cares? My dad’s paying for it anyway.

As I swiped my dads card all I could think about was him, and how he still hasn’t said a word about his trip. I grabbed the dress and walked out the store with Robin. She was talking about how she was now excited for the dance. A few weeks ago she despised the idea of it. Now here we were walking out of starcourt, dresses in hand, going to the dance with people we didn’t think we would go with.

Time Skip

I was in my room doing some homework when my dad called me down for dinner.

I walked down stairs and took a seat at the table.

He put the plate in front of me and smiled.

I looked at the food and started moving it around with my fork.

“So, are you excited about the dance with Eddie?”

I looked up at him then back to the plate.

“I’m not going with Eddie.”

Silence.

“Oh….well, who are you going with then?”

I didn’t want to talk about this, so I decided to change the subject.

“What did you do in New York?”

He looked up from his food and went wide eyed.

“What do you mean? I had dinner with the family.”

I felt the heat creep up in my neck.

“Don’t lie to me. Shouldn’t I be the one lying to you? I called them twice. They didn’t know you were coming, so I waited till later in the night to see if maybe by some chance you were surprising them. You didn’t show up at all.”

He dropped his head down and started messing with his food.

“I know what you were doing. I just want you to tell me.”

He looked up at me through his lashes and then back down to his food.

“You know I would’ve gone if you told me you were visiting mom.”

All the color left his face as he continued to look at the food slowly getting cold on his plate.

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“BULLSHIT!” I yelled as I threw my plate off the table and to the floor.

“You are so full of shit! I saw the fucking file dad! You can’t lie to me. Have you not figured this shit out yet?”

“You went into my office?”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for trying to find out why my own father would lie to me? Okay, this makes total sense.”

I walked out of the kitchen and back up to my room.

I walked into my bathroom and locked the door. I slid down the door and started crying. I don't know how long I was there before I fell asleep. All I remember is hearing my alarm clock going off, signaling me to get ready for work.

December 8th, 1985

I walked in the doors of Family Video and was greeted with a very chipper Robin.

I walked to the back and clocked in, and then back to the front I went.

“So Steve left us a list of things to do.” She said as she handed me the list.

I looked down at the list and then back up to Robin.

“I’m pretty sure we could knock it out in a few hours.” she said with a smile on her face.

“And where is Steve?”

“He went to get coffee. But he’ll be back.”

I leaned over and put my head on the counter and let out a long sigh.

On Sundays people barely came in, and I usually liked the Sunday shifts, but today….I didn’t want to be here.

I looked back down at the list and decided to go ahead and do one of the tasks. I grabbed the bottle of Windex and paper towels under the counter and went outside.

When I was almost done Steve finally pulled up.

“Good morning.” he chimed.

I looked over to him and gave him a weak smile as he walked in.

Steve POV

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked Robin who was sitting behind the counter.

“No idea, she came in like that.”

I rounded the counter and handed Robin her coffee and left y/n’s on the counter.

I looked out the window, which looked great by the way, to see her mindlessly cleaning it.

“You know, you would think her fucking the freak would put some pep in her step.”

All of a sudden I felt a stinging pain in my arm. I grabbed it and looked over to Robin.

“What was that for?”

“Her and Eddie aren’t on talking terms right now.”

“Really?” I said as I looked out the window to her.

“Yea, but that doesn’t mean you can use your charm on her. She won’t fall for it. Also I think they’ll end up back together before the dance.”

I looked over to Robin, “And if they don’t?”

“She won’t fall for your methods. She knows how you act with the randoms that come in here and she would see right through you.”

I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes.

End Steve POV

I came back in from cleaning the windows and grabbed my coffee off the counter and took a sip.

“Thanks Steve.”

He nodded to me with a smile.

I looked down to the cup and just looked at it.

“Well, I’m going to the back to rewind these tapes.” Robin said.

“I gotta go to the back to set up some displays. You got it covered up here?” Steve asked me.

I watched Robin walk to the back with a box in hand and nodded to Steve.

He grabbed his coffee and was gone.

I sat at the counter and waited for the next customer, if there was even going to be one.

Short Time Skip

Steve went out to go get us all lunch, so that left me and Robin sitting at the counter. Robin decided to put Alien on the TV above the counter, so we were pretty invested in the movie when the bell for the front door went off.

“Hey there gorgeous.”

I turned and was greeted by Billy smiling.

“Hi.”

“I tried calling your place but the guy said you weren't there. So I figured I would try here. And here you are.”

I shrugged at him and gave him a quick smile.

He walked to the counter that was to my left and propped himself up.

“So, I was thinking I could take you out to lunch and we could talk about this dance you want me to go to.”

Robin butted in, “She can’t leave, also Steve is getting us all lunch right now.”

“Ahh, King Steve. Ruining things for me once again.” he said with a fake smile.

“Well, how about after work? I could take you out to dinner. Talk then.”

“Well, considering I get off work at nine, I don’t think dinner would work. I also have school tomorrow. So I wouldn’t want to be out too late. Sorry.”

“Ahh, that’s alright sweetheart. Sometime soon though. Maybe I’ll catch you when I pick up Max tomorrow.”

“Yea maybe.”

He leaned in and quickly kissed me on the cheek.

“See you later.” he said as he walked out the door.

There was an awkward silence that filled the air as I turned my attention back to the movie. Robin cleared her throat and I looked over to her.

“What?”

“You’re taking Billy to the dance? What about Eddie?”

“What about him? I mean he told me to take him to the dance.”

“WAIT! WHAT?!”

“Yea, he wrote me a note, that said to take him to the dance and have fun.” I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Ok, well that was dumb of Eddie, but I still think you shouldn’t take Billy. I’d rather see you with Steve at the dance, and even that would be weird.”

I looked back over to the screen and shrugged.

“I’m taking Billy. End of story.”

Short Time Skip

The clock on the wall finally hit eight, which meant we had to start doing all of our cleaning tasks. Steve was vacuuming, Robin was cleaning up all the mess from us and putting the movies that we watched back and I was cleaning the counter, checking the candy for expired ones, the whole nine.

The bell went off as I was bent under the counter.

“We close at nine, just so you know.” I called out.

“I know.” I heard it come from above the counter.

I looked up and saw Eddie standing there.

I stood up and looked at him.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yea, I’m looking for my girlfriend. Haven’t seen her for a while.”

I nodded and looked around.

“Well, unless you’re dating Robin or Steve, there’s nobody else here. So,” I said with a shrug.

“Jesus Christ. Can we just talk please?”

“You’re talking to me now aren’t you?”

Eddie slammed his hand down on the counter, “Can you stop? I mean in private, not while you’re at work.”

“No. We can’t. I’m selfish. Remember?”

I looked up at him and I hurt him. I could tell I did.

“STEVE?! Can you come help this customer?!” I yelled out.

I turned around and walked to the back.

Steve came up to the counter as I walked away.

“GOD DAMNIT! I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO HIM! I WANT TO TALK TO YOU!” he said as he slammed both hands on the counter.

I walked back up to the counter and slammed my hands down, “WELL…. I don’t want to talk to you. How about that? Huh?” I paused. “You should leave. We’re closing soon.”

I turned and headed to the back.

December 10th, 1985

I called Billy on Monday night and asked if he could take me to school the next day so we could talk about the dance after, and he agreed. So there I was sitting in Billy’s car after he dropped off Max, heading to my place.

We walked in the door and my father greeted us.

“Hi, sweetheart. Who’s this?”

I turned to look at Billy and he smiled.

“Billy Hargrove sir.” he said as he stuck out his hand for my dad to shake.

My dad took Billy’s hand and shook it.

“Where’s Eddie?”

I paused and looked over to Billy.

“Uhh, don’t know, and frankly don’t care.” I said as I grabbed Billy’s hand and led him up to my room.

We stepped into my room and I threw my bag down.

“So this is your room huh?”

I looked over to him as I sat down at my vanity.

“Uhh yea.”

“Nice” he said as he flopped down onto my bed.

I looked at him through the mirror as I started to take my makeup off.

“So, I already have my dress, and it’s all black. If you could just match with that somehow.”

“Yea, I can do that.” he paused, “Can I see your dress?”

I turned around and looked at him, “Yea.”

I got up and walked over to my closet and grabbed the dress. I took it out of the cover and showed him.

“Nice,” he said with a nod.

Wow, what a great reaction. Was kind of hoping for him to be more excited. But I’ll take what I can get I guess.

“So are you a tux kinda guy, or like a button down shirt and some jeans kinda guy?” I asked as I was putting the dress away.

“I’d prefer to wear no clothes, but, for a dance I guess just a button down.”

I turned my nose up while still in my closet. He’s really cocky isn’t he?

Before I walked out to sit back at my vanity I tried to make my face seem less disgusted. I walked out to see Billy smiling at me. I put on a fake smile and made it to my vanity.

I was sitting there for a moment before I grabbed some nail polish to do my nails. All of a sudden I felt hands on my shoulders so I looked up into the mirror.

“You know, you should loosen up a bit. I don’t bite.”

I gave him a weak smile and went back to my nails.

Eddie POV

I walked up the stairs to the trailer and flung the door open and slammed it shut.

“Damn boy, you better quit that shit!” Wayne yelled as he stepped out of his room.

“Sorry.” I let out quietly.

I looked up to Wayne and confusion was plastered on his face.

“You alright son?”

I clenched my jaw and started walking down the hall past him, “Just peachy.”

I walked into my room, closed my door and threw my lunchbox onto my desk then fell onto my bed.

I was sitting there for a moment when I suddenly felt my cheeks getting wet.

I’m crying….fucking crying.

I love her so fucking much and now she won’t even talk to me.

I want to be angry. But I can’t, not at her.

We were great on Thanksgiving.

She wasn’t talking to me.

She was being selfish.

I was only telling her the truth.

I didn’t want to hurt her though.

“But I did.” I said out loud.

I brought my hands up to my face and wiped away the tears but they just kept coming.

No matter how hard I tried, she was the only thing I could think of, no amount of weed or booze could make her go away.

Which fucking sucks.

End Eddie POV

December 20th, 1985

I was sitting at my vanity, finishing my makeup. I went with a gray smokey eye to compliment my dress. I had my hair done in some pretty big curls and I was going to put on some jewelry when Billy got here. I turned to look at the clock. He’s supposed to be here in 10 minutes.

I got up and walked into my closet and pulled the dress out. I laid it on my bed and took my robe off. Once I had the dress on I went over to the mirror and was content with how I looked.

After a few minutes the doorbell rang and I yelled for my dad to let Billy in.

I put on a studded necklace and some rings so my hands weren’t so bare.

I grabbed my shoes and my bag and went downstairs.

When I came to the bottom Billy looked at me and I looked at him.

“You look nice.” I said.

“Thanks. Are you ready to go?”

I looked at him then over to my dad who was sitting on the couch.

“Uh, yea.” I said as I was putting my heels on.

“Cool.”

I told my dad bye and walked out the door with Billy. I followed Billy to his car and he went to the drivers side and got in. I got to the passenger side and got in.

On the way to the school I couldn’t help but think how off this all was. No compliment, no flowers, not opening the door for me. I mean I know that I’ve never been to a dance, but this just didn’t feel right.

Billy found a parking spot and got out of the car. I followed suit and followed him to the doors. We had to wait in a line as they were letting students in. Once we got past the person at the door we walked in and it was as if Christmas had thrown up all over the room. I noticed that some people were taking pictures so I looked over to Billy.

“Can we do that? I said as I pointed over to the area.

He looked at me and knitted his brows, “Nah, come on.” he said as he grabbed my hand and led me to a table.

 He sat down and pointed to the seat next to him.

I sat down and looked out at everybody dancing. I saw Robin dancing with Vickie and I couldn’t help but smile. I looked around some more and saw Max dancing with one of the boys from Hellfire. They look cute together. I looked back over to Billy and tapped him.

“Can we dance?”

“I’m not good at it.”

I knitted my brows together, “It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

He let out a long sigh and rubbed his hand down his face, “Ok, I’ll say this then. I don’t wanna.”

I looked away from him and rolled my eyes.

“I’ll go get us drinks.” He said.

I looked over to him and he was already gone.

I propped my elbow on the table and rested my head in my hand.

This was supposed to be different.

I didn’t like this.

I was supposed to be having fun. But I’m sitting here doing nothing.

“Y/N!”

I looked up and saw Robin coming over to the table with Vickie.

“Hey! You guys having fun?”

Robin looked over to Vickie and smiled, “Definitely. You?”

I looked around and sighed, “Yeah.”

“Where’s the leech?”

I scoffed, “He’s not a leech Robin.”

“Mhm, okay. Well, do you want to come dance with us?”

The beginning of “Talking in your sleep” by The Romantics came on, and I wasn’t going to sit here all night. So I got up and followed Robin and Vickie towards the crowd of people.

This was fun. Dancing with Robin and Vickie. I wouldn’t mind doing this all night.

“I HEAR THE SECRETS THAT YOU KEEP! WHEN YOU’RE TALKING IN YOUR SLEEP!” we all screamed together.

Towards the end of the song I felt a hand grab mine and pull me away from the girls.

Eddie pulled me into his chest and looked down at me.

“Can we please talk? I’m begging you.”

I looked into his eyes and I was falling again.

“Eddie….”I looked around for Billy but didn’t see him anywhere.

“Please! You should be here with me. Does this not feel wrong to you?”

It did. It felt so fucking wrong.

“Something wrong doll?” I heard it come from behind Eddie.

Eddie turned around and there was Billy, standing there with that cocky grin.

“No, everythings fine.” I let out.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Why don’t you go ahead and leave?” Eddie said.

Billy grabbed my other hand and pulled me towards him.

“Not gonna happen, freak. She came with me and if I leave, so will she.” Billy grabbed my chin between his fingers and lifted my head up to his, “Isn’t that right sweetheart?” He then leaned in and kissed me and I pushed him away.

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

“‘Cause, you’re my date. Dates kiss.” he said as he pulled me back in.

Eddie grabbed Billy by his collar and pushed him away from me.

“Don’t fucking touch her again.”

Billy walked back up to Eddie and smiled.

“And what the fuck are you going to do about it.”

Eddie looked away then back to Billy and reared back and punched him in the face.

I was frozen in place, I didn’t know what to do.

Billy got back up and swung but Eddie dodged it and tackled Billy to the ground. Billy somehow got Eddie on his back and started getting in some hits. All of a sudden the guys from Hellfire were pulling Eddie up and away from Billy.

“Let him go! Let’s see how tough the freak is!”

Some teachers came up to Billy and told him that he needed to leave while some others were telling Eddie the same thing.

“Y/N!” Eddie yelled.

I looked over to him and his nose was bleeding and he had a cut on his eyebrow too.

“Pick! Him or me!”

I looked over to Billy who also had a bloody nose and a busted lip.

I looked back to Eddie and then back to Billy again.

Billy looked like he would kill me if I didn’t pick him and when I looked at Eddie, I knew there was so much that needed to be fixed between us, and that scared me more than the look in Billy’s eyes.

I walked over to Billy and put my arm around his waist and walked him to the door and out to his car.

Eddie POV

My eyes went wide as I saw her walk over to Billy. She walked out the door with him. She left me here and went with him.

She picked him?

She picked HIM!

“FUCK!”

I pushed the guys off of me and went out the back doors. Once I was clear of the doors I ran to the picnic tables in the woods. Once I made it, I fell to my knees and let it out.

I was screaming, crying and punching the ground.

“Why?!” I screamed up to the sky.

“God damnit, why?!”

I laid down there and cried until I heard some footsteps.

Gareth came up to me and knelt down, “C’mon man. We need to get you cleaned up.”

“Fuck off! I don’t care if I die from infection.”

“Well, I do. So get your ass up! Get over it! Get over her! She’s obviously a stupid bitch if she picked him over you.”

I jumped up and got in Gareth's face and put my finger in his face, “Don’t ever call her that! EVER!”

He took a step back and rolled his eyes, “Whatever man.” he said as he walked away.

All I could think about was the way Billy got into her head. And I didn’t want to think about the things they would do tonight. Yet I did. I thought about him touching her and it only made me more pissed. Seeing him kiss her already made me want to kill him. But thinking of him being with her, the way that only I have been with her is killing me. It should be me with her. But I’m not. I’m in the fucking woods crying. She’s mine. Or was mine. And I can’t do anything about it, cause she chose him. Him over me.

End Eddie POV

Billy drove me back to my place where I patched him up. We were in my bathroom and I was looking at his nose.

“Is it broken?”

I shook my head, “Nah, You’d be in way more pain if it was.”

“Good. I know that freak looks worse than me though.” he said with a bloody smile.

“Can you not call him that?”

Billy then grabbed my hips and pulled me in closer, “I’ll call him whatever the fuck I want, and you’ll deal with it. You know why you’ll deal with it,” he paused, “Cause you picked me. He’s a freak and you know it. Don’t support him now sweetheart.”

I looked Billy in the eyes and pulled myself away from him.

“Fix yourself up. I need to change.”

I walked out of the bathroom and to my closet where I changed into some comfortable clothes.

Billy came out a few minutes later as I was taking off my makeup.

“So, can I stay?”

I turned and looked at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Can I stay the night?”

“No. Definitely not.”

He scoffed and laid on the bed.

“God, after all this. I can’t even stay the night.”

I got up and walked over to the bed and smacked his leg.

“Get your cocky ass out of my bed and out of this house!”

He stood up and grabbed me by my shoulders.

“You gonna make me?”

I looked up and smiled at him.

“Do you want me to?” I said as I cocked my head to the side.

He looked up and laughed and then looked back down to me, “I’d like to see you try sweetheart.”

I smiled at him and looked down to the ground.

In the blink of an eye I kicked the back of his knee and pushed him to the ground, getting on his back and shoving his face into the carpet.

I leaned down to his ear and smiled.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

I got up and pushed him with my foot. He got up and looked at me with nothing but anger on his face.

“You’re such a fucking bitch!”

“And you’re a prick who is still standing in my room for some reason. Do I need to actually hurt you to make you leave? Because that can be arranged.”

He grabbed his jacket off my bed and walked out of my room and down the stairs. I followed him as he got to the front door. He looked back and I cocked my head in response.

“Do you not know how to use a door?” I asked.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes and walked out the door closing it behind him.

I went to the door and locked it.

I slid down the door and just sat there, staring at the darkness that consumed the living room.

God, how did I fuck up so bad, so quickly?

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n

[zanyzensblog]

Changed

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46073200

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14214902/1/Changed

HEAVY SPOILERS FOR RESIDENT EVIL 4 REMAKE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN”T FINISHED!

I REPEAT HEAVY SPOILERS

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or anything associated with it or anything else that may be quoted or referred to herein. Spoilers for the new Resident Evil 4 remake. There’s been a bit of discourse over whether or not Leon and Ada still have the hots for each other or not. And while its considerably more subtle in the remake, I am of the opinion, that oh yeah they are still down bad. Here’s a fic to explain my point of view on it. Delving into Ada’s thoughts on things is difficult but I think the way I’ve done it makes sense. Hopefully its more elaborated on when the Separate Ways DLC comes out (because they’ve practically confirmed that one right? Only a matter of time. Right? Please? Yes Capcom?) so without further ado, please read, review and enjoy!

  Changed.

             Damn, he’s late.

           Ada Wong silently observed the village from the height of a nearby tree, one hand holding onto her grapple gun and the other holding a scope to observe any hint of Sera’s whereabouts. At this rate she was going to have to actively investigate the village and the surrounding area for him. Something that she was loathe to do, after all, only a fool would put themselves in the middle of an entire village of nigh unkillable monsters. As the now charbroiled policeman could attest to.

           Poor bastard, she thought sadly.

           Her radio rang.

Speaking of bloodthirsty…

She put her scope away and answered her radio.

“Any updates on our contact?”

“Still nothing. He must have been found out.”

Her employer made a soft growl in his throat.

“Then it falls to you to locate the Amber. I assume you have a plan?”

She couldn’t help but smirk a little. “These parasites are able to follow simple tasks but aren’t capable of any higher thinking. Every time the church bell rings they drop everything to go inside. Mass just needs to start a little early today.”

That seemed to please him.

“Good. Before I go, there’s been a new development, the president has apparently sent a single agent to locate his daughter. He may be arriving there as we speak.”

“Just one?” She had honestly been expecting to have to evade or neutralize an entire special ops team. That made things far simpler and perhaps explained why the policeman had been here.

“Any intel on the unlucky agent?”

           “Not yet,” his calm voice betraying a barely perceptible note of annoyance. “They’ve been surprisingly vigilant against leaks since the abduction. But it changes little, if the villagers don’t neutralize him, it falls to you to do it. We don’t need any more complications or delays. Understood?”

           “Perfectly,” she switched off and pocketed the radio. She was just about to lower herself when the sounds of utter bedlam erupted from the village. A cacophony of screams, gunfire and what sounded like a chainsaw? It could only be the agent.

           She grabbed her scope again and peered through.

           What the hell kind of idiot would actually try to singlehandedly…

           Her breath caught for a moment and her heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of a handsome face she hadn’t seen in 6 years since that horrible night in Raccoon City.

           “Leon?”

           Leon S. Kennedy was currently singlehandedly taking on a horde of essentially zombified villagers and doing a damn good job of it too.

           She had kept tabs on him of course, anyone who could survive Raccoon City was someone to keep in mind. She knew he had been tapped by the US Government for extra training and deadly missions involving B.O.W.’s. But she never expected that he’d be sent here of all places.

           Clearly the training and missions had paid off though as he dispatched villager after villager with an efficiency and skill that made the gifted rookie cop she had met all those years ago look like an amateur by comparison.

           Despite that though, there were simply too many, it’d only be a matter of time before he was overwhelmed. But if he could hold out for long enough…

           She looked back towards the belltower, the horde was focused on Leon which left it almost completely unguarded. But it also left the road to the lake unguarded too…the simplest thing would be to take advantage of the distraction and leave Le..the agent to his fate and continue her mission.

           But then again…the agent in question is undoubtably skilled. If anyone could survive whatever this forgotten hellhole of the world could throw at them it’d be him. And he’s here for the president’s daughter not the Amber, so as long as he didn’t learn about its existence, their two objectives were not necessarily at odds. He could keep the cult’s eyes on him while she’d be more free than ever to move about the background to complete her own mission. So logically, saving his life here was the actual smart move.

           Are you telling yourself that or are you just rehearsing for what you’ll have to tell your employer because you could never just let him die?

           She ignored the treasonous line of thinking that seemed to pop up whenever Leon at the forefront of her thoughts and hit the trigger to lower herself to the ground.

           “All these years later and I still have to save your ass Leon.”

           For the sake of the mission, not anything else.

           Oh of course, for the mission the treasonous voice replied smugly.

             “And I do have something else I need to get too,” Luis Serra said thoughtfully.

           She frowned. “Don’t try to make any new adjustments to our deal Luis. It won’t end well for any of us.”

           The Spaniard grinned and opened his arms. “Come now where’s the trust Ada?”

           She kept her face pointedly neutral as I stared him down. Not in the mood for anymore games. It’d been hard enough to shadow Leon undetected and save him from that giant preacher (that’s another one he owed her) but now she could tell this unscrupulous researcher was about to introduce a new complication.

           “Right, not so big on trust. Alright I’ll level with you si? There’s a seniorita who’s been brought to this village. She’s been infected with a plaga.”

           “And this concerns you how?”

           “It concerns me, because the eggs only just hatched. So there’s still a chance to save her. She just needs more time. I can give her time by finding the antigen’s I also took that inhibit the parasite’s growth. I get those, I get the Amber and we all fly our merry way out of this hellhole.”

           Ada contemplated this in silence for a moment. Ultimately concluding that this would be both a complication and a delay her employer would not tolerate. But perhaps she could still persuade Luis to abandon this foolish quest.

           “The deal was, the Amber for transport for you out of here. Besides, you said that the antigens just inhibit the parasite’s growth. They don’t stop it right?”

           Luis grimaced. “Well, yes but still if we could get her to a hospital I could help them remove the damn thing.”

           “My employer will not accept this. Come on Luis, do the smart thing. Don’t stick your neck out for a lost cause.”

           Something seemed to change in the man as she said those words. He looked in the direction of the lake, towards the barely peaking tower of the windmill and stared for a few moments completely lost in thought. What he was thinking about she couldn’t say, she was about to speak up again but he turned back to Ada with a new steel in his eyes.

           “Then you can tell your employer to go to hell. Because that’s the only place he’ll be able to get his damn sample.”

Ada was a little taken aback at that. Where was the cutthroat Umbrella golden boy researcher she had read up on? Yet again something she wasn’t expecting from a scientist.

“Now listen, I’ll grab my antigens, grab the Amber, grab my new amigos and we’ll all get out of here. Your happy, your employer is happy, I’m happy, everyone is happy. Doesn’t sound like a bad thing to strive for no?”

She could tell by his eyes that he wasn’t going to change his mind. She had seen eyes similar to that only once before 6 years ago…

Still though, “Fine, how about this, you go get your antigens and you give me the location of the Amber?”

He grinned mockingly, “Oh sorry, Ada, the idea of you taking the sample and just leaving us seems to be making remembering where I put it a bit of a slight uhhh problema.”

“Now where’s the trust?” she huffed in annoyance. This could be a pain in the ass to explain to her employer. She briefly thought about just beating the information out of him but that would likely prove a waste of time and he’d probably just lie. He had the one card she needed and he knew it.

She crossed her arms and nodded.

“Fine, we’ll play it your way. But don’t even think about adding any more surprises or it’ll be both our heads.”

“Si, but hey, what’s life if you don’t live a bit dangerously eh?” He turned around to start walking away.

“One question though,” she put her hand on his shoulder and blurted out the first question in her mind before she could think better of it. “I took you for a pragmatist, why risk everything like this?”

He didn’t turn around, just looked up at the sky. “I’m beginning to think, that perhaps, being too practical might be rather crazy. And seeing life as it is and not as it should be, well that might be even crazier.” He chuckled a little, “sorry, got that from a story I read. The real reason? It just makes me feel better.”

Then he was off.

Despite herself, Ada had to admit she kinda liked the guy. She hoped he didn’t get himself killed. Certainly not before he could get the Amber.

Her radio rang.

“Great,” she pressed the button and answered.

“Report.”

“I’ve finally made contact with Luis. He didn’t have the Amber on him though, he’s on his way to retrieve it now but not to worry, I won’t be losing track of him again.”

She smirked as she checked the signal from the tracker she had placed on him.

“Hmm, good to hear. There’s a new development though, the agent the president sent? We’ve identified him as Leon Kennedy. Another Raccoon City leftover.”

Ada debated internally for a moment what acting surprised would get her, but in the circles that she moved in, ironically enough, sometimes honesty was the best policy. Well, a certain amount of honesty anyway.

“I’m aware. I saw him enter the village not too long after our last check in.”

“And you haven’t seen fit to eliminate him because?”

“He’s been surprisingly useful. The cult has been up in arms looking for him. Leaving me free to move around without much issue. If it wasn’t for him, its doubtful I would have found Luis in time.”

No sound came from the radio but she could swear she felt her employer’s eyes narrow on the other end.

“I don’t like it. If he learns about the Amber, he’s likely to destroy it.”

“But as long he doesn’t know and he’s focused on the president’s daughter, he won’t be an problem. Besides, according to Luis she seems to have been infected with a parasite. I doubt she’ll be an issue long.”

“She’s infected? Interesting...”

Ada worried she let the wrong thing slip for a moment.

“Very well, your priority is still the Amber. But barring that, perhaps we could make use of her as well. Keep them under observation, but understand that Kennedy is an attack dog. If he gets in our way, you will put him down. And once you’ve retrieved the Amber if you have the opportunity you’ll take the shot. Understood?”

“Not to worry, I’ll keep him on just the right amount of leash until the time comes.”

“Hmm see that you do.”

The radio went silent.

So much for Luis’ good intentions, she thought surprisingly disappointed. If the villagers or the parasite didn’t get the girl, her employer might. There was nothing for Leon here and killing him would be…difficult. Only play she felt she could make right now was to make contact with Leon and see if he’d back off. Because even if Luis managed to find the antigens and the Amber and they all got out, her employer would not allow Leon Kennedy to survive.

Plus side, shouldn’t be too hard to convince Leon, it’s been 6 years, surely that painfully earnest rookie cop had learned when to call it quits and leave well enough alone. He’d have developed an actual survival instinct right?

Lying to yourself now Ada? You know that’s the one person you’re bad at it with.

She pulled out her pistol and checked her ammo. Making sure to keep her mask of indifference in place as she made her way to the castle. It helped distract her from how much she was looking forward to talking with him again.

 “You can stop right there, Leon.” She held the gun to his back but made sure to keep her finger off the trigger. “Wouldn’t want me to use this, would you?”

He dropped his weapon and put his hands up as she closed in.

“Well after 6 years that is one hell of a greeting. Ada.”

Huh, she wasn’t expecting him to be so…calm about her reappearance. No “I can’t believe you’re alive” or “how did you survive?” Curious.  As far as she knew he had thought she fell to her death back in the N.E.S.T. had he suspected she had survived all this time?

“You don’t seem surprised,” she noticed him subtly shifting his weight to prepare to move. Was he actually going to try…

“Interesting.”

Leon moved as if that word were a starter gun almost too fast for her to follow he whipped around and grabbed her gun hand. What followed next would have looked like more of a flurry of frantic blows and dodges rather than what it was. A mixture of dance and chess game to find out who would come out on top. She kicked upwards , he caught the kick, she brought the leg down and used the momentum to spin around and bring her gun to bear. He blocked and grabbed her gun hand then the next thing she knew his knife was a scant few inches from her throat.

Check.

“Try using knives next time. Better for close encounters.”

Ada felt a slight heat to her cheeks and her heart rate spiked. And it had nothing to do with their impromptu sparring session and only a little to do with the knife at her throat.

It was the first time in 6 years she got to see Leon this close. Most of his boyish looks were gone, replaced by a hard stare and sharper angles. Traces were still there to be sure around the eyes haunted as they were but there was a bit of danger in his features now and it surprisingly suited him.

She let her surprise fade into an impressed smile. “Not a bad move. Very smooth.”

“So who are you working for this time?” he asked, eyes unblinking and intense.

“Oh Leon, you know I don’t work and tell.” And what are you going to do about that? What can you do? She finished with a sultry smile equally unblinking.

Checkmate.

For a single heartbeat, she felt that treasonous voice in her head want to lean in and kiss him. And in that moment, she was certain he was thinking the same thing.

They blinked at the same time and the moment passed. They put away both their weapons. Leon sheathed his knife as he turned away and she remembered what she came here to do.

“Leave the girl. She’s lost no matter what.”

She started walking past him slowly, not unlike a predatory cat circling another hunter.

“You walk away now and who knows? Maybe you’ll live to meet me again.”

She was past him now heading towards the open window.

“And then I might get you that ‘greeting’ you were looking for.”

“You think I’m gonna give up that easy?”

And there it was. Confirmation that despite everything that had happened to him, despite the seeming hard edges and world class skills gained from going through one hellish ordeal after another, he was still Leon S. Kennedy, rookie cop trying desperately to save just one person from the jaws of hell itself. A trait that was the single most infuriating thing about this man.

So infuriating it was almost endearing.

Her head dropped as she let out a sigh. Silently kicking herself for expecting anything different.

She turned around to look at him.

“Right,” she contemplated a moment. For all her capacity to plan ahead somehow the idea of him not wanting to walk away didn’t really seem like a possibility until now.

But this was the hand she was being dealt, she could find a way to play it.

“How about we continue this discussion another time?”

He let out an amused huff as he turned away and picked up his gun. By the time he turned back around she was already gone.

Despite the new potential complications, she couldn’t help but think that it had been nice to see him.

             “Damn.”

           “Looking for something?” She smiled as she dangled the boat key from her fingers.

           “How about I give you a lift handsome.”

           Leon chuckled and nodded. “Ok.”

           The ride was going to take awhile, so she decided to engage in a little small talk. Namely, asking what had happened to his charming Spanish friend. That may have been not the right topic because he turned away and rested his cheek on his hand.

           “He didn’t make it. My former C.O. Krauser killed him.”

           Oh. She thought. That was a damn shame. She would have liked to have seen him go free from this. She had figured his new chivalrous streak would get him killed, but still that was unfortunate.

           It was also unfortunate that that meant Saddler likely had the Amber in his possession and that he also had one of the worlds foremost special operatives on his side. One she’d guess who was now host to one of those superior plaga parasites. In essence a real life super soldier. That could be a problem. Not an insurmountable one but one she’d rather not engage in a direct fight with if she could avoid it.

           After that, most of the trip was spent in silence. Not awkward but…somehow tense. Leon just kept starring at the sea and brooding. She had to admit though, he was kinda cute when he was broody.

           He would occasionally look like he was going to say something but then thought better of it. Then try again a few minutes later only to internally talk himself out of it. It was irritatingly adorable.

           Eventually her own curiosity got the better of her and she wanted to know what was going on in his head. Besides, he couldn’t afford distractions where he was going.

           “You look like you’ve got something to say,” she tried to keep my demeanor neutral. It’d be better that way for both of them she reasoned.

           “I’ve got something to ask you. But I don’t think I’ll get a straight answer.”

           She gave a small shrug neither confirming nor denying. He was probably right but he wasn’t going to get anything unless he asked. The sea was clear so she glanced over at him expectantly.

           “Raccoon City. You know after the incident. The world changed.”

           She thought back to that day herself, in some ways, yes he was right. But in others she felt the world hadn’t changed that much. There has always been influential and powerful people trying to get their hands on some shiny new thing they thought would give them even more power and influence. Especially over any rivals of theirs. These B.O.W.’s were just the newest thing in a long line of such trinkets.

           Granted, far more obviously destructive and horrific than say new formulas for highly addictive opiates to sell to the masses or new ways to gather personal data or prototype weapon blueprints. But even so.

           He continued. “You try to save one person; a hundred others die. I guess I changed too.”

           No amount of a lifetime of emotional control and knowing how to manipulate her reactions could have stopped Ada from smiling and giving a full out laugh at the absurdity of that statement.

           “You? Leon S. Kennedy?” she quickly put face back into neutral. Surprised at herself he had elicited such an honest reaction from her. Confounding man. She turned towards him. “You haven’t changed. You just think you have.”

           He turned away noncommittedly as he saw we were coming up on the island.

           “So here’s my question…” he turned back to look at her in the eyes and for that moment he looked so much more like that cute boyish cop she had met over half a decade ago.

           “Have you changed Ada? Or are you just trying to use me again?”

           She kept her expression utterly impassive as she returned his gaze. There wouldn’t have been a professional card shark or conman in the world able to read her with this face on.

             “What do you think?” Then she turned away and gave a slight smirk almost to say the question was ridiculous to even contemplate.

           “We’re here.”

           She pulled the boat next to the cliffside, stood up and fired her grapple gun. She looked back down at Leon.

           “Don’t think too hard handsome. See you later.”

           With that she pulled the trigger and ascended, leaving Leon to get the careening boat back under control.

           Once she was up the cliffside she let the mask fall and couldn’t help but give another small scoff. Changed? Her? Of course she was still the same just as he was. And he knew that. If he didn’t then he wasn’t just naïve but dangerously stupid.

           Sure, she found him attractive hell in a way she liked him and perhaps she saved his life when it wasn’t always necessarily the most advantageous thing to do. She didn’t actively wish him harm but he made for an incredibly useful asset when properly controlled and motivated.

           But her mission was always the priority, she was a mercenary, a spy. And she’d been doing something like this almost from the moment she could talk. Its who she was. You do the job, you rub elbows with rich megalomaniacs and you get paid. What they do with your skills or whatever you’ve procured for them is not your concern. Besides even she didn’t do it someone else would, someone maybe with far fewer scruples than she had. So best to just do the job and not ask questions. Made things simpler. To think anything otherwise…well you have the new chivalrous and late Luis Serra as an example of that thinking.

           *Brnnng*

           And speaking of megalomaniacs…

           She answered the radio again.

           “Luis Serra is dead. But I know where the Amber is. It’s in possession of Saddler but I’m closing in on it.”

           “I see. And your mutt?”

           “Still active. Still being a good boy. The girl is also with Saddler, so it may be advantageous to have them fight it out.”

           “Then deliver the final blow when there’s only one left standing. Well done. But understand this, if you fail in your mission, the consequences will be…severe for you. Are we clear?”

           “Crystal. I’ll contact you again soon regarding extraction options and possibly some heavy ordinance.”

           She hung up again.

           That was one of the many more prominent downsides of working for megalomaniacs, if they didn’t get what they wanted they’d just threaten to kill you. Come to think of it, the only real positive thing about working for megalomaniacs was they paid well enough to offset all the other numerous downsides.

           She checked her weapons and set off again.

           Ignoring the voice that kept asking her the real reason why that question had bothered her so much?

             Dammit, so close.

           Saddler was right there. But so was Leon and the girl. The latter two of which were clearly in the final stages of the parasite fully manifesting. Saddler was able to control Leon’s body, making him halt dead in his tracks.

           If I could just get closer…

           She could grab the sample and maybe save the two of them. But there wasn’t enough time for both, only one or the other. She could just let the infestation take place, strike while Saddler celebrated, the sample was the priority…the sample…

           Leon convulsed as Saddler’s words seemed to speed up the plaga’s growth within him, his skin seeming about to burst.

           “Exult all! And let it be so!”

           The screams are what decided it for her and next thing she knew she was spraying rounds from her SMG to kill the cultists and stun Saddler.

           That seemed to break the spell as Leon fell forward and supported himself on the alter.

           “LEON!” he looked back in a slight daze.

           “GO!” she opened fire on Saddler again as Leon picked up the girl from the alter as she emptied the entire clip into Saddler.

           When the gun ran dry and she tossed it and drew her pistol, Saddler seemed to have recovered from his initial surprise and glared at her. With a frustrated growl his body seemed to writhe subtly before he suddenly had a fistful of bullets in his hand that he dropped contemptuously.

           Deciding to ignore her he made to pursue Leon.

           Like hell that’s gonna happen.

           She shot the chain off one of the statues and cut off the passage that Leon escaped through. With even just a bit of luck he’d make it to Luis’ lab before it was too late.

           Of course, now she was in this situation, how the hell would she get out of it?

             She groaned as she barely returned to consciousness, her vision swimming in front of her as a face began to form in front of her.

           “Leon?” she whispered.

           Her vision settled just enough to see it was not a handsome face in front of her but a face out of nightmares with almost glowing blue eyes and wearing a most displeased frown.

           “Ah, our new guest awakens.”

           Memory began to crystalize, there was a fight in the alter room, she had put up one hell of a fight, killing dozens of cultists and those damn giant bug things alike, even brought down entire sections of the roof to do it but Saddler had managed to get her with a lucky blow to the head. It was then that she realized her arms were bound. Damn, of course this is what she gets for trying to play nice.

           Saddler continued. “I had suspected there were other players about. Trying to claim our most Holy Body for themselves instead of sharing it with the world as it is meant to be. But fret not, for they too shall receive salvation when the time comes.

Bound, weaponless, and feeling her consciousness slipping again. This was bad, quite possibly end of the line bad. So all things considered, she may as well take a moment to gloat. “You’re too late. Leon and the girl are probably cured by now. And without the parasites in them, they’ll be 100 miles away as soon as possible. You’ve lost.”

Instead of anger or rage though, he laughed. “Ahhh but young miss Wong, you are mistaken about one thing. While it is true that their voices, so close to joining our choir have gone silent, I felt Mr. Kennedy’s thoughts as though they were my own for a time. I know you from his thoughts of you. Such an…impassioned but perplexing bond you two share. So much pain but yet he has so much faith in one as duplicitous as you. And such yearning! I think we both know that while you’re still a guest here, he will not leave this island. And while he’s here, so too will the girl be. You’ve merely delayed the inevitable ascension of our Holy Body.”

She felt herself being lifted up as unconsciousness quickly began to claim her again and it grew harder to think properly. She wanted to say no way would Leon, who’d gone through hell and back to save the other girl go out of his way to save someone who used him not just once but twice. He’d be a damn fool to do so.

But of course, he was her damn fool and she knew with the certainty the sky was blue and gravity existed that he would come for her.

Because he was her Leon…

 She awoke after being dropped from a height. A very rude interruption of a well needed nap. Then she heard gunfire and the adrenaline helped put her brain back into gear. She saw Saddler chocking Leon with a tentacled arm. Bullets didn’t really work, so time for something else. She fired her grapple gun and swung towards the mad monk. Landing a kick with enough force to shatter a normal man’s ribcage.

Of course, that only managed to stun him a little and make him let go of Leon. She turned and drew her weapon, glancing at Leon who looked right back at her. Something passed between the two of them and he drew his weapon and side by side they began pelting Saddler with round after round of bullets.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to make him angry…

 Leon lay on the ground exhausted after finishing off Saddler. The small vial of the Amber sample right next to him. He made to reach for it but she stopped next to him and picked it up first.

“Ada. What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing personal Leon. Luis and I had an arrangement.”

She walked past him towards the edge of the rig.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it.

The helicopter rose up in front of her at the at the correct height where she could easily   just step into it.

“Rides here.”

Before she stepped in though she felt compelled to turn around and offer him something.

“You coming?”

She wasn’t really sure why shy she made that offer. Maybe part of her thought Leon would just follow after her like a loyal puppy, maybe she thought they made a good team and that she genuinely trusted him to have her back. Or maybe she just wasn’t quite ready to leave him just yet.

Whatever the case Leon looked away for a moment with small laugh before turning back to her.

His eyes betrayed exhaustion and maybe a little sadness but there was a peace to them too that she hadn’t really ever seen in them before.

“I think we both know this, is where we go our separate ways,” he finished with small wry smile.

For a man who seemed to go out of his way to make things difficult on himself , it was almost strange to see such an easy acceptance from him. For all the short time they had spent together he understood her, about as well as anyone could and he knew himself now too. Enough to know that both of them weren’t going to be riding off into the sunset together. Not this time.

I’ll be damned, maybe he’s changed a bit after all. He’s grown up.

And he was right. She turned away to conceal a slightly sad wry smile of her own.

“I see.”

She stepped into the copter which began rising just as explosions began to go off along the island.

But she did have one last treat for him. Complete with a little lucky charm.

“Better get a move on,” she called out as she tossed him the keys to her backup transportation safely docked under the island which he caught easily. Even from this distance she could see the amusement on his face at the charm on the key.

She sat down in the seat and put the headset on, still watching him him as the helicopter pulled away.

“Until next time, Leon...”

A few minutes later, she held up the Amber to her eyes as though trying to glean some more information from it. Some new bit of information that could settle the feeling of unease that had settled over her.

All centered around the little bauble and how much trouble it had been to get ahold of the damn thing.

It seemed to be the nature of the job these days, some small almost innocuous little bauble worth millions to the right people. A bauble that was more destructive than it had any right to be for something so delicate looking. Something that could perhaps, quite literally, change the course of history.

For a moment, a crazy thought flitted through her mind, an impulse to chuck it out the window and see what would happen then. Just make this whole mess of the past few days add up to nothing. It was an amusing thought.

But she was a professional and she had a job to finish. She carefully tucked the Amber into a padded case for safer transfer. Once it was secured she clicked on her headset.

“Patch me through.”

The pilot hit a few buttons on his console before giving a thumbs up for successful patch.

“I’ve obtained the Amber.”

Miles away, Albert Wesker sat in front of a computer displaying what he’d call the blueprints of the future.

“Excellent.”

But the unease in her mind wouldn’t leave her. Something about the past couple of days, between Luis going far above and beyond for two strangers he didn’t know and Leon, well of course, being Leon had started to make her wonder about somethings.

With these thoughts in mind, she committed the cardinal sin of mercenary work.

“Just one question, what are you planning to do with this?”

Predictably, the response she got was less than cordial.

“I do not pay you to ask questions,” Wesker said with a restrained snarl. “All you need to know is that a new dawn is breaking. A hundred will give their lives so that just one may live. I am expediting that change.”

She turned back towards the case.

“So…we’re talking millions of casualties.”

“Billions,” Wesker stated smugly.

Well, what do you know. There is another upside to dealing with megalomaniacs. They have no idea when they should shut up.

And it was then that she made her choice.

“How ambitious,” were the last words she said to Albert Wesker. She pulled off her headset and pulled out her pistol, moving behind the pilot she aimed at his head and pulled the hammer down.

“We’re changing course. Now.”

The pilot didn’t say anything other than a slight nod to her demands and quickly changed course.

This was definitely not the smartest play. Entire graveyards had been filled by those who had gotten in Wesker and Umbrellas way. Of all the enemies to make in the world they were quite possibly the biggest ones anyone could make.

But…she just couldn’t let them get their way. Not this time.

She was almost incredulous at herself and the action she was taking.

She had never been a monster by any means, in fact she had always done what she could to minimize collateral damage, even actually help some people here and there as long as it didn’t distract from her missions. She had figured out a long time ago that the wealthy and powerful would always have a use for people like her. And it was better to work with them and minimize what damage you could than to do something as foolhardy as taking a direct stand against them. That’d only get you squashed like a bug. Besides, if you didn’t do the job, they’d just get someone else who would. And that someone could be a lot less discerning.

It was just the way of the world and that wasn’t changing anytime soon. So best to be pragmatic about it. At least, that’s how she had lived her life so far.

But…something Luis had said seemed to stand out to her. Something about to be too practical was insanity and to see the world as it is and not as it should be was even more insane. Paraphrasing some parts of Don Quixote if she was not mistaken. Maybe there was a little bit of truth to that. Not much, but a little.

Of course, reality was never one to back down in the face of idealism. Not for long at least. There were still plenty of practicalities she would have to sort out. The first and foremost of course what to do with the Amber? Leon would certainly destroy it. But there were already plenty of B.O.W.’s out in the world already. Taking this one out was unlikely to make any real difference. And besides, there were plenty of other potential buyers who, while likely not having pockets nearly as deep as Umbrella’s, would still pay a fortune for this sample. And their…ambitions would likely be far less lofty than Wesker’s.

Perhaps with this sample they could begin to balance out Umbrella’s power. Find a way to counter them.

It was worth considering.

Before she began to make new plans she took a moment to stop and really consider what she was doing. She almost wanted to laugh. 6 years ago, despite her not wanting to cause undue damage during a mission, she wouldn’t have thought twice about actually giving the G-Virus sample to Umbrella. It had been just another job even with all the horror that she’d seen on that day. Now though?

She looked down at the ocean and the lone jet ski speeding its way back to the mainland and remembered a rookie cop from 6 years ago who had looked her in the eyes and all but dared her to shoot him. And being so unshakably confident that she wouldn’t be able to it. And for once, she really couldn’t.

I guess this answers your question, Leon.

She turned back to the empty sea and sky ahead of her as the helicopter flew her to a new destination.

#re4r #re4r spoilers #leon ada #leon x ada #aeon #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake

[vengeful-velvette]

So I saw this on Twitter, and wanted to do my own version!

It's a mix between "who's my favorite charafter" and "who do I find thematic interesting from a character/story perspective".

(Character thoughts + empty template below the cut)

Charlie is hands down my favorite though. I LOVE her personality, I love her story arc of becoming the leader of her people, I love how she sees her people! It's so interesting to me! I love her so much!

I honestly believe that a lot of that love spills over to Emily, as Emily is basically just the Heaven verison of Charlie, lol. Also, did you know that after episode 6 I actually shipped Charlie and Emily? Before everyone on Twitter thought that the two were secret sisters or something lol, and I kinda stopped.

Vaggie is interesting because my opinions on her have actually changed the most. Like I didn't really care for her during episodes 1-5. I understood the dynamic her and Charlie had, with Vaggie being protective and loving, but this creating conflict with Charlie wanting to do things.

Just, in my opinion, that conflict never really went anywhere? Like Vaggie spent the first 6 episodes telling Charlie not to do things she wanted to do, and it never really led anywhere? Like yes after the reavel I understood why she did it, but it never becomes a stress point of their relationship, with the focal point being Vaggie not telling Charlie that she was an angel.

Vaggie's and Charlie's relationship also had the neat dynamic of Vaggie valuing herself as being "lower" than Charlie. Like she's willing to do anything for Charlie. I thought this was a really neat concept, especially with her making a deal with Alastor, and her verse in "whatever it takes", but I just wish it was executed better.

I actually thought about Vaggie's and Charlie's relationship so much that I kinda "Rewritten" the one they had in the first half of season 1, with more focus being on Vaggie believing she owes some kind of life debt to Charlie. (Very much "Charlie made me believe I was everything" type of energy".)

And it actually being addressed that Vaggie doesn't really support Charlie, or that she's constantly telling Charlie not to do things. With the reveal being that Vaggie doesn't really "believe" in Charlie's dream, because she believes that she could never be redeemed for being an exorcist.

This, I believe, ties all (or most) of Vaggie's "lose threads" together (her being an ex exorcist, her willing to do whatever to protect Charlie because she views Charlie as being more "important" than she is, and her constantly telling Charlie not to do stuff.)

Anyway, after the reveal I actually got a lot more invested into Vaggie, because I actually felt like their relationship was being challenged, and changed.

I like Angel Dust and Husk the same amount. I know that Husk's jar is slightly fuller, but I would probably go back and drop it down a bit to match Angel's (or maybe Angel's being a bit higher).

I honestly feel like a lot of Angel's oringal character (like being a mobster and a drug addict) has unfortunately been stripped away in season 1.

Alastor is a pretty neat character. I feel like he's in my top 3.

Looking back at this, I would probably drop Lucifer down just a bit. I love him, but he can be a little bit cringe introducing. He's in my to 3/top 5 though.

I don't care at all for Zestial. I actually had a really hard time understanding him the first time he showed up, and had to turn on subtitles.

I really, really like Rosie! I would probably increase her score a bit more, but I felt a little bad for doing so because she only appears in one episode. I just love her whole vibe! I love how emotionally intelligent she is, and how good she is at giving advice.

The egg boys are pretty cute and funny. They feel like cheap comedy relief, but I like em.

All of the pet characters get the same score because I really don't think much of time besides "they're cute".

Adam actually grew a lot on me. When I first watched the show I hated him, but now I can't help but find his sexism really funny.

Those are basically all my thoughts, if you have any questions regarding my ruling, please let me know! I love talking about these characters!

Also, here's the empty template:

#i would probably change like half of the characters ruling if i were to do this again

[originalpistol]

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆

::Some days drown you, some days feel like a sinkhole of never-ending shit. Oh, but some days feel like sunshine skittering across the ocean’s shoreline, and some days feel like the best damn thing to have ever happened to you. Life is funny like that. I couldn’t help but to lament over those few facts that I knew better than to rule as opinion. My Montblanc pen settled against my lush lower lip as I sat at a standstill for the first time in what felt like years, finally able to just be — foreign, uncharted waters. I’d grown so accustomed to attending galas, weddings, birthday parties, and various other press events that I’d become a stranger to my own home. Sometimes I wondered whether or not these old walls knew my name anymore, or even if the floorboards cared to welcome me in. Do the windows know to protect me from the rain like they did for my Husband and Daughter, or had I simply become a figment of whom they once knew so well. After all, it was my own drawings that brought this house to where it now stands. I’d once guided crews of men in to restructure beams and to rebuild walls while opening others up. All until it was a masterpiece of serenity not only for myself but for my family. The very place that we all called home. I’d been so proud of the fact that I hadn’t bought a house, but had instead transformed one into a home. Our 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒.

That was before life had become so cluttered with everything besides being here, in our home. We’d stayed home for a good month, month and a half after Sidaleigh’s birth, but only because of how protective I’d been over our newborn baby, and how protective Lexington had been over me. My pregnancy was far from ideal, and honestly it had been horrific and jarring for him. So much so that I often worried about whether or not he would ever be truly happy with the idea of me having another child. I could see the fear leaching from his soul anytime I mentioned another pregnancy, and I knew that he would inevitably panic on my body’s ability to keep me alive or not. Not that it’d done too good of a job last time. I understood his worries, they were nothing if not fully valid given my lovely stint in a coma two years ago. Rolling my eyes at my own annoyance with my body, I sighed just under my breath. Dropping a nod to myself as I looked over the photos on Lexington’s desk, taking a while to capture the way we smiled on our wedding day, and how we were so effortlessly overjoyed at the birth of our daughter, and then there were the various photos of Sidaleigh and I on his bookshelves. My smile mirrored the one she displayed in every photo, my heart swelling with pride and warmth as I looked at her.

A heavy sigh to which matched my heart began to hit in as I realized how long it had been since I’d truly been part of our family. Tension swarmed between Lexington and I after Sidaleigh’s first few months, and though I loved being her mother more than anything in the world; part of me had longed for who I was before her. I missed how quick to cutthroat I’d once been, and who I no longer was. Now, it was slow, calculated, and a deep-drive of a knife into a vital organ rather than a quick motion. I’d turned into a woman determined to be a better parent than I’d ever known. Even better than who my mother once was. I was going to be everything no one expected me to be. But it was the drastic shift in who I’d become in the face of motherhood that caused me to lash out at him, and guilt never failed to hold her reins over me for that. I wondered if he realized how ashamed I’d been for being warm to our child but cold to him.I hated that I’d become so horrendous in those months. But that was only the beginning of where we’d been in the last two years. Rock bottom was an understatement for the hellscape we’d somehow found ourselves in.

Who would’ve known that happiness could become hell so easily. Thin line, indeed. My nose wrinkled at the thought of how much of a struggle we’d faced last year. How I was ready and wanted to have a second child, and the way that Lexington and I spent months and months on end trying to conceive. Yet my body fought that desire harder than it had ever gone to war for anything else. At least that’s how it felt. My failure was something I’d never understood, nor knew how to take in stride. 𝑴𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒘. I never knew how to lay down and to take no for an answer, and unfortunately; that showed even in my marriage. It showed in the way that I was not okay to give up, I wasn’t willing to sit back and watch how everyone who surrounded us could be exactly what I desired to be the most. Pregnant. No one knew about my struggle, or where I’d hidden my own contempt and jealousy. Not NoraBean. Not B. No one. I hadn’t dared to tell anyone how hard I’d found it to get out of bed some days, or how I couldn’t bring myself to be truly and genuinely happy for any of their pregnancies for the lack of my own. And guilt wrapped her reins around my throat for that, too. Tightening any time I felt like spitting acid from how much I wanted to be pregnant for the first time in my life, but couldn’t manage to bring that into fruition. How was it that when I had no inkling, no want, and no desire to carry a child; I could conceive, but the months where our lives were aligned and we were happier than we’d ever been; I couldn’t. My body failed me. Repeatedly. And if I was being honest? It still does to this day. Only now, I’ve learned to live with its never-ending cycle of abuse as far as conceiving a child goes. I have learned how to put my own desire to the side, and to simply be in the life that I have rather than the life that I 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡.

Lifting my head, I looked away from the wild-haired little girl running back and forth with her daddy. Hollering out her laughter each time he got close enough to grab her. 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝑰’𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔. I’d deprived myself of seeing their candid happiness and the way they love one another so freely, too. 𝑨 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒐𝒃 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. I told myself that it was to get back to myself, to be able to finally put my best pin forward into my new line. To be able to sew in a way I hadn’t been able to accomplish in my studio at home or in Seattle, for that matter. Somehow, that wasn’t far enough. That was a bald-faced lie, and I knew it the moment it crossed my tongue and stung my lips as a promise to make me pay for letting my Husband find his bed empty for months on end. Hell, for letting my Husband wake day after day to an empty house that used to be a home, full of so much life but was then desolate. All because I had been too weak to face him in my own moment of absolution and all-consuming pain. I don’t know if anyone understood how it felt to stand at his side through so many beautiful press publications, to act as if we were okay when we were anything but. It was like I was allowing my lips to find the mouth of a man unknown. He’d lost himself and I had lost all of my patience. Two things I refused to allow to accompany the two of us into this next year. Another thing I refused to allow into our next chapter was my own hatred for my body, for the way she couldn’t give me the one thing I craved the most. But I’d decided to breathe life back into myself when I came home. I threw those god-forsaken papers in the trash, and came 𝐇 𝐨 𝐦 𝐞. 𝑻𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝑯𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅. 𝑻𝒐 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆.

Being home finally felt right. I felt alive when I walked through the foyer and into the open expanse of the home we’d built just before Sidaleigh was born. I smiled at the small flash of memories playing out in my mind. Her first smile was in this house. In her father’s arms, actually. He’d never been more proud, and I was never so in love as I was watching Lexington become a father to our little girl. It was something I couldn’t place into words if I’d tried, that simple sight was more than enough to make my traumatic pregnancy worth the fight of my life. I watched as my mind led me down into the life we’d created without the world surrounding us, and with only our love for it to flourish and feed off of.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟. 𝐈𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦.

I’d been home for a few months now, and it was as that pen sat to my lips that I dropped my back further into the leather chair, and smiled to myself. Taking a slow breath to be able to appreciate everything that I not only had in life, but that I have built. There were many things, before Paris, that I had lost sight of. All of which stood before me now, just outside the French doors that housed Lexington’s office, where I’d posted up for the morning in efforts to get a few press proposals out of the way. That was the only deal I’d made with Lex, that I would steal his office for a maximum of five hours, this morning, and then would not touch another piece of technology. Any other time, I’d have fought him on laying work down in order to focus on family, but this time? I found myself hurriedly finishing out emails and phone calls to various new sources and magazines to prepare them for the launch of 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥's newest line, due to air January 3rd. I couldn’t wait to be able to shut the computers down, lock our phones, and simply lounge around the house until Christmas Eve. That is when everything would gear up as Sidaleigh was beginning to learn what it meant when Santa came to town.

Nearly two years old and she was already so smart. She was talking now, and part of me wanted to beg some higher being to somehow revert time and bring me back my itty, bitty baby. But I knew that was insane, and pointless. Besides, I loved learning all her little quirks. Between the way she only liked to eat her pancakes (NOT WAFFLES, HAH, Lex! She likes pancakes more! Just. Like. Me.) with her hands (even though I found that to be gross. God, I hated sticky things, even my child’s hands.) and how she giggled wildly anytime our animals got the zoomies around the house. I fell in love with life, again. Sidaleigh had single-handedly taught me how to find love in every aspect of my life, again. Something that I thought was absolutely lost, but as I dialed in the last number to Vogue: Paris, I realized perhaps I’d never lost it to begin with. — Perhaps it was just overlooked. Much like a pair of 1994 Manolo Blahnik’s I’d once had to have, but only wore a handful of times for fear of fucking them up.

It dawned on me, maybe I’d placed our love — my and Lexington’s — on a shelf, in the back of the closet, to keep it safe from myself. From ruining the only good thing I’d ever truly known. 𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒊𝒕.

But when does protecting something you love so much become the very breaking point? Where is that line, and why is it so fucking fragile? My mind swirled on those questions, head tilting from side to side before I sat my phone down, and leaned back enough to watch the pitter-patter of rain pelting the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding his office. Wondering where that line broke and became shattered, and what the breaking point would begin to look like. Was it different from he to I? Or were we merely two people, too damn stubborn, and too in love to ever truly hit that wall? I knew that we’d come close, but I also knew that regardless of what came our way; neither of us had the balls enough to file. Paris is a far cry from divorce, at the end of the day. Space does not always equal divide, nor does it beg for separation. You can have space and thrive, you can have space and still love with all that you are. Sometimes, I’ve come to learn that space is a relationship’s saving grace. Whether we want to admit it or not. And it’s as my eyes lifted to catch sight of My Husband hunched over and chasing after a wide-eyed, curly haired toddler that I stopped in my tracks. Set both hands on top of the desk, my chin perched on my palms as I watched. Listened. Learned.

Maybe I could learn to be a better mother, a better Wife from the man chasing after our daughter like a maniac. Both of them running the halls, making me laugh when neither of them knew I was even paying a lick of attention. Ocean eyes filled with tears of joy for the way we’d gotten so lucky to have him. To know a man so damn diligent and determined in his love of not only his child, but to love a woman so fucking stubborn and hard-headed as I’d always been. But he’d loved me from the start, and without fail through everything. Time and time again, he loved me. That’s all he wanted to do; love me and our child. I could see it playing across his features as he snatched Sidaleigh up, and tickled her sides in the air. Roaring into her ear, only to end up by the doors again. Almost as if he was gravitating to them, to me, he always seemed to end up back in front of these doors. Stealing small glances when he could, or dropping a little wave with our daughter to me. A subtle reminder of how he wanted me to hurry, though he would never outright ask me to.

He flashed me a dimpled grin, the one I loved more than anything, the one riddled with happiness and joy. God, it felt like forever since I’d seen my Husband this happy. Something I never wanted him to go without. I smiled to myself, drawing my thumbs just beneath my eyes in attempts to not only save my makeup, but to keep him from questioning why I was crying at all. I didn’t want him to worry when we were good, we were great. And I couldn’t have been more proud to have said that as I pushed up from the leather chair, stepped out of my Jimmy Choo heels, and left everything in the world behind.

Sneaking out of the doors, I managed to tip-toe my way through the grand foyer of our home, listening intently for where my two could be. No sounds. Hmm. Not even a mouse. Interesting. My eyes narrowed in clear suspicion at how fast our home went silent, before I ducked and dipped behind the massive 20ft Christmas tree, doing my best to sink into the stack of clustered presents near the back. Alert to my surroundings, I was cautious to ensure I was completely covered for whenever either Sidaleigh or Lexington made their way back into the foyer. Which I knew they would, or I knew he would. Either which way, I was determined to catch someone slacking on their ability to detect me. I kept a tiny peep-hole between boxes just big enough for me to see feet or shoes cross by, sinking into position and waiting.::

#author #roleplay #writing

[elle-chat]

wtf.

#just found out that my cat fritz who unexplainably died when i was 9(in my arms after being sick and weak for days) #actually died because my dad kicked him across the apartment #i literally cannot with him(why am i just finding this out now) #i knew he kicked the cats cause i saw him do it to our other cat snowball(which i had thought resulted in us leaving) #like he is always telling me that 'your mom said i was kicking the cats but they lay on your feet if you get up you them' #i always wondered why he keeps trying to convince me when im the one who saw it(him kicking snowball) #mom and i were talking today and all these years i thought when we mentioned him kicking a cat i thought we were talking about the same one #and she like 'yeah i remember the cat he kicked died' and im like what #it was snowball tho? we had to give away him and leo when we left and fritz is the one who died #(fritz who died in my arms and was sick for days and would only eat cause i was crying who would sleep on my pillow and wheeze and wheeze) #wtf how come i nevwr knew this he was my little baby i thought he was just sick and we couldn't afford a vet #i honestly thought my opinion of him could drop no lower #i wish we were never forced to come back(i was against it but the other option was we would be taken away from our mom) #phew okay we have been vague planning another final leave for years and now that ill have a higher paying job we might be able to afford it #longest timeline jan 2024 or feb 2023 if everything goes perfectly phew phew okay okay got protect my little baby cats wtf he killed fritz

[writemedrawme]

The One Who Didn't Like You, Pt. 1

Dennis (Split) x reader

Description: You like Dennis, but Dennis has never liked you. One bad day makes you bold and you try to tease him, but his reaction is not what you expected...

Warning(s): Angst, arguing, cursing, sexual/suggestive content

Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with Kyle from Food City? Or Jace from high-school band? Or Louis from Tinder? No, you had to catch feelings for the person least interested in you. Miss Patricia said that was wrong, she seemed to think he tolerated you more than he did. Jade and Barry shared the sentiment, albeit a bit more dramatically, they tried to tell you he was completely definitely in love with you. Kevin even argued that he must have some feelings for you. And Hedwig, well Hedwig kept asking if you could name your kids after him. You hadn’t talked to many of the others about it, you weren’t as close with them. However, even with people whose opinions you would usually trust without thought assuring you that Dennis did not find you disgusting, you were utterly unconvinced.

Dennis was a refined, intelligent, put together man. He probably preferred a woman more along the lines of those standards. You did not fit that image. Your dismissal of Dennis’s alleged feelings were not solely based on your insecurities, however. As comfortable as you were with everyone from Patricia to even the Beast and all the personalities in between, you had never been able to create a connection between yourself and Dennis. It wasn’t for lack of trying, you used to always try to talk to Dennis when he was around. He wasn’t rude to you by any means, you could just tell that he was uncomfortable. He averted his eyes, answered quickly, and never initiated a conversation. At first you thought maybe you had an unevenly buttoned shirt, or a stain on your jeans, that maybe his OCD was the reason for his discomfort. However, no matter how you dressed or meticulously inspected yourself it was never enough.

You couldn’t believe you had fallen for him in the first place. It wasn’t as if you were in love when you first met him, though you couldn’t lie, seeing his body language and expressions did make you fairly attracted to him. You had primarily only found him attractive for the longest time. Your infatuation didn’t start until one night when you had stayed over at their place. You were up very late, sitting in the kitchen and sipping on a glass of water. Dennis had heard when you tripped over your own pajama pants and fell outside his door. You hadn’t disclosed your reasoning for requesting to stay at their home, but it was clear something was bothering you. Dennis approached you slowly.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you mumbled.

“You alright?” he asked. He stayed a good distance away from you, not quite willing to sit beside you or even stand beside you.

You rubbed your eyes, hoping he would think the redness was from your hand and not your tears. “Yeah, fine.”

Dennis simply stared at you for a second before he turned around and left without a word. You almost burst into tears then, not sure what you had expected, but hoping for something more. It was a good thing you didn’t though, because mere moments later he returned. You couldn’t speak you were so shocked when he walked up behind you, placing a much too big for you sweater around your shoulders. The warmth you felt startled you, as you honestly hadn’t even realized you were cold. Dennis smoothed the shoulders down over you, pressing out all the wrinkles. It was because of his OCD, but in that moment it just felt like a tender touch.

“It’s my old one, you can have it. I know Kevin makes it pretty cold in here.” He rumbled, his low voice sending more shivers down your spine.

You barely mumbled a thank you as he left, staring wide eyed at his retreating back.

It was sad that this was what turned the tables for you, but now anytime you saw him you felt a rush of emotions; nervousness, attraction, longing… honestly it was embarrassing. From that moment on you were sure every interaction was different, at least in your head. You thought he looked at you with a slightly difficult look in his eye, but it was probably nothing.

Part of you hoped he wouldn’t be home tonight, but part of you hoped he would be. You had requested again to stay with them again tonight, and Jade had cleared it with you. As you wandered down the endless corridors to get to their home, you tried not to think too much about Dennis and just focus on the directions you’d memorized to get to them. Two rights and a left later and you stepped up to their main door, raising a fist to knock.

“Hold on a minute,” you heard Jade stumble to the door, checking when you heard a thud and a curse. The door swung open and Jade froze, expression shifting from a welcoming smile to a rather coy one. “Well hello, foxy lady,” she teased.

You flushed, pulling down your skirt. “Shut up,” You stepped by her, hanging your purse on the coat rack. “thanks again for letting me stay over… again,”

Jade ignored you, striding over and spinning you around to face her. She bit her lip, giving you a once over. “Well if you’re tryna catch his attention you’re definitely on the right track,”

“I’m not, shut up!” You were lying. You definitely picked out a pleated black and yellow plaid skirt with an oversized black off the shoulder sweater for a reason – and the lack of bra was also for a reason. It wasn’t too obvious, though. You weren’t that brave.

Jade was, though. She reached out and gave your boob a squeeze, laughing when you squealed and swatted her away. “What’s this for then?”

You tried to hide your smile. “I just felt like it.”

“Well I’m impressed but I’m not the one you’re trying to impress,” Jade giggled. “Sit down, I’ll start the movie.”

You flopped onto the couch, pulling your skirt down over your thighs. It was pretty short…

You had a bad day. A really bad day. Your roommate was a bitch but she charged low rates. On days when she was particularly bad you stayed over with Kevin and the alters. In your heated rush to pack your bag and head out you had made a rash decision. You were mad at your roommate and your landlord and some asshole on the freeway and when you thought of him, Dennis too. So you were going to make it hard for him to ignore you. You knew he had a thing for pleated skirts and obviously braless girls, Barry had made fun of his fashion taste enough in the past. You were gonna piss everyone off today. However, as you walked down the corridors your anger cooled, and you had begun to realize what you were wearing, just as you were now, sitting on the couch.

You couldn’t focus on the movie at all. You were too stressed that Dennis would take the light at some point tonight, or that Jade would convince him to. You didn’t think she noticed your discomfort. By the end of the movie you had wiggled your skirt so low it was hanging lower on your hips, and Jade was almost asleep. She let out a yawn, stretching her arms above her head.

“It’s late girl,” she stood, rubbing her eyes. “I’m gonna head to sleep.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully she’d go to sleep and nobody else would get the light, and if she didn’t you’d get to bed fast anyway. “Okay, I’ll go soon too.”

“Gnight, Y/N.” Jade mumbled, shuffling to her room.

You stayed there for a moment before finally getting up the energy to stand. You were tired too. You winced at your skirt’s waistband cutting into your hips. You glanced around the corner, making sure there was no sign of Jade before you pulled up your skirt. Geez, it barely covered your ass. You hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone on your way there…

You decided tonight you would grab yourself a glass of water first and then head to bed, so you grabbed your bag and made your way to the kitchen. You stood on your tippy toes and grabbed yourself a glass. You filled it with water and began to walk to your room, but, because you were ever a klutz, tripped over your own feet. Now thankfully you didn’t fall, but you did definitely drop the entire glass on the floor. You cursed. The glass somehow didn’t shatter, but did leave a rather large puddle and roll all the way under the table. You decided you would tackle the puddle first. You managed to soak most of it up with half a roll of paper towels pretty quickly, you just needed the glass. You knelt down, spotting it on the other side of the table. Shifting to your hands and knees you almost had to go completely under the table, but you did manage to grab it. Just as you grasped the glass, you heard a voice behind you.

“Fucking hell.”

You knew that voice anywhere. You cringed inwardly, scooting out from under the table and trying your best not to look at Dennis, who was undoubtedly disgusted by the mess he knew you just made. “Sorry, I dropped my glass… I cleaned it up, and the glass didn’t even break, see? I -"

You broke and looked up at him, but froze when you saw him. His expression was not one you had seen before. His fists were clenched and so was his jaw. His eyes were not on the damp floor or the unbroken glass, but on your skirt. You swallowed. Oh yeah, your skirt. You were just bent over in front of him. He had to be blind to not have seen all the way to your thong.

His chest heaved under his white night t shirt and you could tell his teeth were clenched as he spoke. “What… what are you doing?”

“I…” you swallowed, slowly standing up. “Cleaning up my mess…”

He wasn’t satisfied with that answer. He just stared at you, his face and body so tense it looked like he was fighting something. You pulled down your skirt a little, and his eyes darted down to it.

“Why are you wearing that? You never dress like this,”

“You know what I dress like?” you cringed inwardly. That was not the conversation you should be having. You didn’t know what conversation you should be having, but if wasn’t that.

“Yes, I’ve been around you and seen what you wear. It isn’t that.”

You felt a little offended by his attitude towards you. Usually he was passive, but right now he was being so aggressive. “Why does it matter? Maybe I had a date or I just thought I looked good,”

His expression changed. “Why did you have a date?”

“I didn’t,” you admitted, half wishing you’d have lied. “But I could’ve,”

“With who?”

You blinked. “Nobody, I just said -"

“You said you could have. You could have had a date with who?”

This was a strange conversation. You could almost, almost see jealousy in Dennis's eyes. So you made a decision. If you were wrong this would be the most embarrassing moment in your life, but if you were right…

You stepped forward, pulling your skirt back up on your hips. You noted his lingering gaze. “Dennis, why does that matter? If I want a date I will go get one. I have nobody pining over me or waiting for me so I have no reason not to. So if I want to pull up my skirt and take off my bra and go find somebody who thinks I’m beautiful and wants to take me home I will. I have nothing stopping me, do I?”

You were at a standstill. You wouldn’t speak until he spoke first. You felt triumphant, confident.

Then, Dennis turned to leave.

You watched in shock as he rounded the corner, all of your confidence draining. You were wrong. “Fuck you and fuck me,” you mumbled. Tears welled in your eyes. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You shook your head, grabbing your bag and stomping down the hallway with hi.. “I said fuck you and fuck me, you asshole.”

“Why?”

You stopped, spinning to face him. “Because you can’t be a normal person. You can’t just reject me or tell me you’re not interested, you just walk away. You walk away like your better than me and you are I guess but you don’t have to be such a fucking dick about it!”

“Reject you?”

“Yes, reject me. What you think I dressed like your fantasy chick and stare at you all the time? Because I’m interested in somebody else?”

Dennis looked stunned. Completely and utterly stunned. You felt your heart beat slow. You were at another standstill, but this time he was cemented in place.

“You didn’t know that?” you asked.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why me?”

You felt your heart melt as his voice broke. You thought it had been obvious. “Because… you’re sweet, deep down. You’re protective, you care so deeply for Kevin and the others, you’re smart and eloquent … I love your accent, you’re so identifiable from the others, you’re handsome and brave… because you’re you, Dennis.”

Dennis had tears welled in his eyes, and he looked like he was assessing you, searching for a reason to doubt you.

You decided to take another risk. You walked to him slowly, giving him enough time to back away if he needed. You stopped right in front of him, so close you could feel the heat coming off of his body. You moved incredibly slowly, giving him even more time to back away, but he still didn’t. So you leaned in and wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest. It took him a moment but to your surprise, he slowly wrapped his arms around you too. Your heart was beating so hard you were sure he could feel it, but you could feel his too. His body was firm and warm and you never wanted to let go. You felt his breath on your ear as he nuzzled into you.

“Is this a rejection hug?” you mumbled.

“No,” Dennis’s chest rumbled as he spoke.

You squeezed him lightly, gently starting to stroke his back. It took him a moment, but you felt Dennis’s hand shakily, slowly lower. With one hand he played with the hem of your shirt, and with the other he gently rubbed the place your bra would be. You slid a hand under his shirt, letting it rest on his side and giving him permission to do the same.

His hand slid under slowly, just barely grazing your skin with his fingertips before he let himself lay his hand flat on your back. He shuddered as he felt up your bare back, imagining what was on the other side. You could feel his hesitation to touch you any further. Your body was screaming for him to touch you, but you were also scared of this being a one time thing. You loved him, this would be more than sex for you.

“Dennis?”

He retracted his hand, assuming he had crossed a line. “I’m sorry, I -"

“No no,” you grabbed his larger hand, holding it as best you could in yours. “If you want to take me into your bedroom and screw me and then pretend it never happened I can’t do that. I can’t get you for a night and never have you again, I want so much more with you. So tell me now, please.”

Dennis stared down at you as if you had three heads. “Nobody’s ever looked at me like you do,” he mumbled.

You flushed and looked away, focusing on his hand. He pulled it from your hand and instead engulfed yours with his. He gave it a squeeze. “Please don’t ever stop,” He said.

You couldn’t keep the smile that spread across your face off. You brought his hand to your cheek, pressing against him and closing your eyes. He released your hand and held your face for a moment before he moved again, threading his hand through your hair and cupping the base of you head. He watched you closely for any sign you wanted him to stop. You made sure not to give him any. Slowly, he leaned in, stopping again just before your lips touched. You stood up on your toes and pressed your mouth on his, your whole body electrifying. You’d fantasized about this for so long, and it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. He was perfect, the hand on the back of your neck firm hut not painful, his other hand traveling down your side and under your shirt to squeeze your waist. You couldn’t decide where to put your hands first. He was finally yours to hold and squeeze and just touch. Your right hand cupped his jaw, loving the feel of him moving in the kiss. Your other hand mimicked his, under his shirt and feeling up his back. You moaned into his mouth and he gripped your hair along with your neck, and you squeaked when he pulled you forwards. He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I… I want…” you couldn’t get the words out, or you couldn’t decide on them, you weren’t even sure.

He understood. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

...

This is part one, do we want a part two? I may have some smut on the way... lol I'm in such need for Dennis content I'm just writing it myself.

#split x reader #split #James McAvoy #split dennis #dennis #kevin wendell crumb #fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #angst #x reader #oneshot #m night shyamalan #m. night shyamalan #james mcavoy x reader #part one

[nextdoor-neighbors]

Frustrations

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: When making Amorentia in Potions, you and Fred Weasley - who you can’t stand - come to a horrifying realization of who your potions smell like.

A/N: I know this isn’t really how Amortenia works but just bare with me, I liked the idea.

Link to Part 2!

“Today, we’ll be making Amortentia.”

“Ooh,” you say, under your breath, shifting in your chair. You’d heard of Amortenia, so you are excited to see what yours will smell like.

“I swear, you’re the only person in this world to get excited over Potions,” your best friend, Cedric, whispers in return, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m not the only one,” you retort, “don’t forget about Snape.”

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Diggory.” 

You look up at the sound of your name, cringing inwardly at Snape’s harsh gaze on you. Normally, your professor didn’t have a problem with you. You could say he liked you, even, considering you were normally the only one in the class to answer his questions.

“Miss Y/L/N. What is Amortentia?”

After rattling off a perfect definition, you hear snickers behind you, which without a doubt in your mind, comes from the Weasley twins. The two boys had always infuriated you with their pranks and their never taking anything seriously. Plus, they always went after you with Bludgers whenever your house played them in Quidditch. You knew they only did things to annoy you because they got a kick out of seeing you get so riled up, but you still fell for it every time.

Snape looks at you once last time before turning away. “Good. But enough with the chitchat in my classroom.”

“Yessir,” you respond, quietly.

Finally, Snape lets you begin. You carefully read through the steps, making sure you measure everything perfectly. Cedric watches you, grinning and shaking his head.

“You really are set on making everything perfectly, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Cedric,” you reply, not taking your eyes off of the substance in the cauldron in front of you, “I really am.”

“Oi, Y/L/N,” one of the Weasleys calls from behind you.

You sigh and turn around, raising an eyebrow as you meet the eyes of Fred Weasley. Fred was most certainly the more annoying of the two, in your opinion.

“What do you want, Weasley?”

“No need to be so harsh. I’m just asking what you think yours will smell like, that’s all.” You can’t help but notice the smirk that plays on Fred’s lips.

You narrow your eyes at him before turning back around. “I hate to break your heart, Weasley, but not you. Not in a million years.”

You risk a glance over your shoulder, just to receive a wink from Fred. “We’ll see about that, darling.”

You turn back around, huffing as you do so, before either of the Weasleys can see the blush spreading on your cheeks. You will it to go away before someone else sees either and gets the wrong idea.

Snape comes over to your table, peering into your cauldron.

“Why don’t you tell the class what yours smells like, Miss Y/L/N, since you’ve finished already?” he drawls, looking at you expectantly.

You lean over your cauldron, inhaling deeply as you try to place the scents that are wafting towards you.

“Mm,” you hum, naming the scents you recognize: “Smoke, like from a firework. And... sweets?” You sit back in your seat, now flushing deeply at the fact that your entire class now knows what you’re attracted to. “I-I think,” you add.

You hear the familiar chuckle behind you, and Snape’s head snaps towards the sound.

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape says sternly, “if you think it’s so funny, and considering yours looks like a disaster, why don’t you come smell Miss Y/L/N’s and tell the class what it smells like to you?”

Fred comes up behind you, so you scoot your chair over slightly so he can smell your Amortentia. You watch as he leans over, his hair falling over his face, and you get a whiff of the smokey scent again. You must be sitting too close to the potion still.

He inhales deeply, a confused look twisting his expression, and sniffs it again.

“Well?” Snape asks, impatiently.

Fred straightens up and shrugs. “Y/L/N is sitting too close to me. All I could smell is her perfume.”

The corner of Snape’s mouth quirks up in amusement as he looks between the two of you.

“That’s all I needed to know. Take a seat, Mr. Weasley,” he says, before turning away and walking to the other side of the room.

You look up at Fred, horror sinking in as you realize what Snape meant. You watch your feelings reflected on Fred’s face and the realization sets in for him, too, and he quickly turns away to head back to his seat.

You risk a look over at Cedric, who’s stifling a laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” you hiss at him, blushing again. Fred Weasley, attracted to you? He couldn’t be. All he did was tease you. And plus, there was no way you were attracted to him in return. I mean, what you smelled...

You start thinking about it, and it all makes sense, but in a terrible way. No, no, there had to be someone else who could be associated with those smells. Right?

Class ends, and you’re still deep in your thoughts as you gather your books. You have a free period next, so you’re probably just going to go hang out with Cedric at the library, like the two of you normally do. But as you’re leaving the classroom, your head lowered, you feel a hand on your back.

You look up in surprise, only to be face to face with Fred Weasley himself.

“What?”

He sighs at you. “Can I just talk to you? Without you hating my guts for five minutes?”

You blanch, guilt settling in at your harsh reaction, so you merely nod and let Fred lead the way down the halls, until you finally find an empty corridor. You both stop, standing somewhat defensively, in the middle of the hallway.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Fred begins, “or, actually, ever find out, but here we are.”

The boy standing in front of you isn’t the annoying, constantly teasing and joking boy you’ve known for years, and it shocks you. He looks at you sheepishly, waiting for your response. But, honestly, you’re speechless. You’d spent so much time over the years simply looking at the things that irritated you about Fred that you never looked at the good things. For example, you had to admit that he was very good at Quidditch, despite the many times he nearly sent you to the Hospital Wing. And looking up at him now, you can't help notice that he is quite good looking. You’ve never been into gingers, but...

“Find out that you fancy me, you mean?” you ask, cocking your head.

When Fred doesn’t answer right away, you continue: “Why?”

He shrugs, his gaze locked on you, and you see the corner of his mouth beginning to twitch. You knew he couldn’t be serious for long. Oh, no, maybe this is all a joke. Maybe he didn’t actually smell your perfume, and maybe he just said that to mess with you, and-

“Oh, Merlin,” you say, breathily, cutting Fred off before he can even begin to answer your question. You’re so stupid, of course it was a joke. After all, it’s Fred Weasley you’re talking about. And to think, you were actually considering your feelings for him.

“This is all a joke, isn’t it?” you scoff, backing up. You watch as Fred’s face contorts, several different expressions passing over it in a matter of seconds. He steps towards you.

“No, Y/N-“ You can’t help but notice, through your embarrassment and anger, that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.

“Y/N,” he continues, “it’s not, I-“

You step back once more, fuming, your back hitting the wall of the corridor.

“And how am I supposed to believe that, Fred, when that’s all everything is to you? Right? Oh, except for Quidditch, when you’re trying to kill me!”

Fred’s hand, palm splayed, lands on the brick wall next to your head, making you flinch. He leans close, frustration, heat, and that smokey smell radiating off of him. You look up at him, your heart pounding out of your chest and your breath catching in your throat.

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice low and husky.

“What, Fred?” you respond when he doesn’t continue, your voice sounding shaky and far-away.

“If you’d just let me talk,” he says, slowly and quietly, making your stomach flip, “instead of being the know-it-all that you are all the bloody time-”

“Then what?” you cut him off, but you just can’t help it, not with all the feelings boiling inside of you. You’re angry and hurt and irritated and just a little turned on and- “Then you could laugh at me and tell me you lied about the Amorentia just to see how I’d react because mine smelled like you and you wanted to humiliate me?”

“Do you ever just stop talking?”

“Listen, you git-”

You’re cut off by Fred’s lips on yours. You fall into the kiss for just a second, taking in the softness of his lips, his smell, his body closing in on yours, and oh, Merlin, the passion and anger behind it, but once you process what’s going on, you put your hands on his chest and push him back, but not too far.

“Fred,” you say, at a loss for words between heavy breaths, because bloody hell, he’s a good kisser.

“Are you going to let me talk now?” he says, stepping back from you, much to your dismay. His eyes are dark, and as you watch him look you up and down briefly, you know it’s over for you. You have to give in. He’s just too damn addicting.

“No, I’m not.” you say, “Kiss me.”

That dastardly smirk appears on his lips as he steps back towards you, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours again. Next thing you know, his hands are gripping behind your thighs and he’s lifting you, pressing your back against the wall as you wrap your legs around his waist and grab two fistfuls of his hair. The two of you meet each other’s hungry and ferocity, but it’s constantly increasing, as if you just want to one-up each other about who wants the other more. He bites your lip, hard, and you gasp, both from the pain and the pleasure.

“I knew it!”

Fred practically drops you as you both process the voice coming from down the corridor. You scramble to your feet, adjusting your skirt and hair as nonchalantly as possible, turning towards the source.

George Weasley and Cedric stand, staring at you and Fred with amusement. Well, George looks amused, while Cedric looks mostly concerned. You know you’ll have a lot of explaining to do later.

“I- we- it wasn’t-”

Fred picks up his books and begins walking down the hall towards his twin. But not before he turns around and gives you yet another once-over, winking at you with that smirk.

“See you next period, Y/L/N.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #fred weasley one shot #hp fanfiction #harry potter #amortentia #fred weasley fanfiction

[chillassimagines]

Too Much - Campbell Eliot Smut

REQUESTED: Please make a smut from Campbell from Society. Reader and Campbell have a lot of sexual tension and it finally breaks out. They end up going all over one another, lots of dirty talk and Campbell wants to please her every desire. They go slow foreplay and eases into sex. Lots of built up sexual tension comes to life. Perhaps what causes it is when they see one other flirt with someone and they get into a argument over it and they let go and give into how they feel.

“So…Y/N…what was up with Harry back there?” Campbell asked you while walking with you back to your house. You shrugged and kicked a nearby pebble out of your way as you passed.

“Nothing much really.” You recalled Harry approaching you in the cafeteria, asking you how you’ve been. Somewhere along the way you guys got pretty deep into conversation about what you missed about your old lives.

“Looked a little more than ‘nothing much’, but hey, that’s just coming from me and everyone in the cafeteria that saw you.” Campbell’s hands were fiddling inside his jean pockets as his attitude began to rear its ugly behind. He always had a temper.

“We were, bonding, I’d say for a lack of better words. Honestly, nothing crazy, Campbell, let’s get inside.” You ushered him up your steps and opened the front door to get inside away from the chilly night’s air. You remembered how Harry’s hand brushed up against yours, waiting for you to move your hand off the table, but you kept it there. So he grabbed it and held your hand as you got into deeper subjects. Then he started to lighten the mood, crack a joke or so, or point out people in the room and list off embarrassing moments they’ve had. You never thought to let go of his hand.

“I get it, it gets pretty hopeless in this place, but I’m sure there’s a better pick than Harry.” He pointed out with a slight huff as you both kicked off your shoes. You furrowed your brows and headed into the kitchen.

“Drop it, Campbell. No need to be an asshole to Harry.” You grabbed a glass and filled it up with water at the sink.

“If anyone’s the asshole, it’s always been Harry, and by hearing some of the shit he had to say today, it’ll always be Harry. You’ve got shitty taste in guys.” You turned around to see Campbell, smug, leaning against the kitchen island, and facing you, directly opposite from you at the sink.

“So what? You just mad you’re not getting any in around here?” Of course you had never had sex with Harry, but if Campbell wants to believe it, then why keep saying it didn’t happen? He wanted a rise out of you. However, his face turned sour at your inquiry.

“I wouldn’t need much work to get anything around here. Harry only dreams he could fuck anyone, even you, like I could.” You scoffed and nodded. It did cross your mind briefly once or twice, Campbell had a crappy attitude, but he wasn’t bad looking.

“Hop off your high ass horse baby. You seem to be a bit delusional lately, maybe chill on the drugs, and while you’re so high, imagine me with my clothes off. Cause that’s the only way you’d ever see it.” Didn’t like that comment either.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” He stepped forward, but you stepped forward as well, not backing down.

“Fucking make me! I dare you. Harry would never be able to get me to stop using it.” He rushed forward and pinned your body against the counter, his hands coming up to brace against the cabinets. This was getting hot and intense real fast.

“I would use your whole body, not just that bratty mouth.” One of his hands went to your chin, tilted your gaze upwards, and allowed him to look down at your lips.

“I’m only hearing words and speculation, your opinion is biased.” Your volume dropped significantly as you could feel yourself growing curious.

“You want me to show you, don’t you?” He leaned his lower region up against you and your lips parted in awe.

“Thought you didn’t like my bratty mouth?” You damn near whispered, followed by your tongue wetting your lips.

“If Harry can make good use of it, why can’t I?” Oh this is it.

“Campbell, I’d never let Harry use my body, because I want yours.” You closed the distance between your lips. He was momentarily stunned, before he returned the slow and sensual kiss. Your hands found themselves bunching up his jacket into fistfuls.

“Say you want me.” He broke the heated exchange in which you were temporarily dazed out of as his mouth left yours.

“I really, really want you, Campbell.” You spoke softly before backing him up into your room, adjacent to the kitchen. He helped you remove your top, to which you did the same for him, and he guided you to lie back on the bed.

“You’re beyond beautiful, yanno?” He asked you as if it was common knowledge. “It feels like your body reacts to me with…excitement.” He whispered before latching his lips onto your neck. You sighed out in pleasure as his hips instinctively grinded against yours.

“Am I game for you to play, Campbell?” You teased as he went for your bra clasp. He shook his head and revealed your bare chest.

“You’re my gift to unwrap. My mystery to uncover. Harry can jump out a window if he thinks he’ll ever have you like I do.” He spoke with a smirk before wrapping his pink lips around your nipple.

“Oh my god, Campbell.” You whimpered out as one of his hands dipped below your pants. He hummed against your chest and nipped at you with his teeth, before alternating breasts. His fingers were met with your damp lower lips.

“I’m gonna have you wrapped around my finger. You’re going to do as I say if you want what I can give you.” And without a second thought, you stupidly blurted out.

“Yes please.” This brought a grin to Campbell’s face as he teased your lips, never separating them to dive in.

“The bratty mouth has some manners. Now, you’ll do that every time I speak to you or please you, because I will be pleasing you tonight. Saying please and thank you are very important, Y/N. Understood?” You nodded immediately.

“Understood, Campbell.” His fingers started dragging your bottoms down your legs, kissing you along the way.

“You like to say my name, huh? Nobody says it as often as you do. You like to make sure you have my attention. You like to know I’m listening to every word that falls from these lips, right?” His lips stopped when he realized you had no panties on.

“Took you a minute.” You said with a shy smile. He said nothing, only forcefully spreading your thighs without a word. You grew more antsy as he just sat there, gripping your thighs, and letting yourself be presented to this man.

“That mouth will get you into trouble in the future.” Was all he said before he hunkered down and wrapped his supple lips around your clit. Your hands shot down to his thick hair and grasped as he did not start easy. He used his tongue deliberately to elicit reactions out of you.

“Oh my god, yes. Please don’t stop.” You whimpered as you really realized how deprived you were nowadays. If he stopped, you probably would have burst into tears, because it was so needed and so good. He pulled your thighs towards himself, burying his nose into your wet heat, and you removed one of your hands from his hair and braced yourself against the bed. “Y-You’re doing, s-so well. Fuck yesss.” You could audibly hear your wetness and his saliva at work as his tongue maneuvered around you and he made noises against your body.

“I need you to cum for me, baby.” He spoke breathlessly before diving back in. You nodded and cried out as he didn’t let up.

“Faster, faster and I can cum.” You urged him to continue on. He slid his thick tongue inside of you making you gasp. He used his grip on your thighs to slide you back and forth, his tongue slipping in and out of you swiftly. His nose would bump against your clit at every jolt and it sent you over the edge. You cried out as your legs tightened around his head and your back arched so high you swore you were upside down for a minute.

“What do you say, my pretty girl?” He asked as he hovered over you again and brushed your sweaty hair off of your forehead.

“Thank you, so much.” You were still trying to recover as he began taking off his bottoms.

“You got another one in ya?” You bit your lip as your eyes went to the outline of his hardness strained against his underwear.

“Only if it’s good.” You gave him a smile and he returned it sweetly.

“I don’t disappoint.”

“So, did you plan to fuck me today, or do you not have a condom?” You asked after he began discarding his boxers. He smirked and reached into his pants pocket.

“Lucky guess.” Your eyebrows rose at him in surprise. You didn’t know why you were shocked, because you knew who he was. It was no secret to anyone in this town that Campbell Eliot was not good. Nothing he does goes without intention and thought.

“Either you think I’m easy or you have a lot of confidence in yourself.” He slid the condom onto his well grown length and pulled you further down the bed to get closer.

“I’ve always liked a little challenge. So that when you got used to me, it’s an unspoken promise that you’d be mine.” Without another breath, he thrusted into you. You were stunned at his word choice, knowing that there would never be a time to turn back from this. You wrapped your arms around his torso and allowed yourself to feel his back muscles contort as he worked himself inside of you repeatedly.

“Campbell.” You whispered breathlessly. He seemed concentrated and part of you wondered…but it was a very small part. The rest of you got lost in the pleasure. The feeling of his hot skin on yours.

“That’s right baby. Who do you belong to?” He cooed and began kissing and sucking on your neck. His hips stuttered and you moaned shakily.

“You, Campbell. Please, don’t stop.” He hiked your legs up higher in the air so that he could further submerge himself. You could hear your wet skin slapping together and you knew you were close.

“You like that, don’t you?” You nodded and whined.

“Please, please, please…” You were chanting your new mantra as he brought you closer and closer to your end. He brought his lips to yours and with a final thrust you felt his body tremble against your own. Your nerves were buzzing as your second climax hit.

“Not too much was it?” He asked softly, looking into your eyes with a boyish gaze. You brought one hand up to his soft cheek and smiled right back.

“Thank you.”

#imagines #preferences #chillassimagines #campbell eliot smut #campbell eliot #the society #the society smut #toby wallace #toby wallace smut

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.  

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay ­– good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.  

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.  

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.  

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”  

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.  

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

 ——————————————————

 There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.  

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”  

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

 ———————————————��——

| Part Four |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #reid series #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid slow burn #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer x reader #professor spencer reid #prof spencer reid #professor reid #prof reid #tbatb #dr spencer reid #dr reid

[sunder-soul]

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap. 

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

#Tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #established relationship #ravenclaw reader #amortentia #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #harry potter #minific #retribution #prompt #Anon #gn reader