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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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Careful - Chapter Five

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Five: Brick By Boring Brick

Her prince finally came to save her, and the rest you can figure out.

Summary:

The world is closing in around you. You're supposed to sit in your home and wait for a killer to come to you, and your son seems to prefer a man that you were convinced never should have been in his life in the first place.

What happened? Where did you go wrong?

The only way to find out is to reflect on the past - and to perhaps, forgive something you once thought was unforgivable.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 9,700

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder, stalking; the reader character is being victimized by a serial killer; angst - lots of emotional angst; the reader character and Spencer argue and hash things out; this chapter shows the flashback of how their relationship ended; mentions of drugs/drug use/drug addiction - there is mentions of Spencer’s drug addiction after the incident with Tobias Hankel; mentions of the reader having an eating disorder (in the past, before meeting Spencer); mentions of how pregnancy can affect eating disorders; mentions of the reader having an absent father; mentions of Spencer’s trauma/PTSD after the Hankel incident; mentions of lack of hygiene/lack of cleaning his apartment due to trauma and depression; Spencer uses his profiling skills to insult the reader; I believe that is it for this chapter.

A/N: This is it! This is the big chapter where we all find out what happened for them to break-up! I hope everyone enjoys it. (I am not gonna lie, I am really starting to mentally stall with this series, and I am really eager to work on something else lmao. So let's hope I can stick it out and get it done.)

...

Spencer considered lying to you.

He knew that you were going to have a hard time taking the news - there was no safehouse, no protective custody. Just him. Everything he had been offering before, nagging you about - it wasn’t truly being offered to you now. You would take it harder because now, in a sense, you and your son were being used as bait to lure the killer out and catch him in the act.

He considered lying to you. But he knew that it would ruin all the progress that the two of you had made.

So he made what he hoped was the right choice. He laid it all out for you as plainly as he could. They needed to catch him into the act, or he might choose a different victim. More innocent women might get hurt, their children being orphaned in the process. There would be unmarked cars stationed nearby, ready to help when Spencer called them in.

He would be there to protect you.

You still had a glisten of tears in your eyes, and he thought that you were going to panic. He was surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him again - but he embraced you tightly, feeling a certain selfish joy at having you back in his arms.

“As long as you’re here to protect me.” You sniffled quietly, burying your face in his chest once again.

“I’m not going to leave you.” He promised. “I don’t care what happens - I won’t let you out of my sight until we catch him.”

You didn’t bring up the fact that this likely meant sleeping in the same bed with Spencer. You weren’t sure if that was something you were looking forward to or dreading.

…

Spencer encouraged you to go about your usual routine - especially because he didn’t want Sebastian to be afraid or paranoid, even if such a smart boy could sense that you were upset and didn’t understand why.

Sebastian was easily distracted from the underlying tension when he realized that Spencer would be around to tuck him into bed.

He became so ripe with excitement that you thought it might be difficult for him to sleep. Even though his bed time wasn’t officially until later, he skipped his evening TV time to rush up the stairs so that Spencer would come with him. He insisted that Spencer help him pick out his pajamas, and then he wanted to show Spencer his toothbrush that played Moonlight Sonata (a toothbrush that was designed to play exactly two minutes of a song so that kids knew how long to brush their teeth).

You followed them upstairs and any efforts you made to help - showing Spencer which drawer the pjs were in and pointing to the drawer with the toothpaste in it - you were brushed off by Sebastian, who insisted that they didn’t need your help. He only wanted help from his new best friend.

Observing the whole thing truly made you wonder what the past four years of your life would have been like with Spencer there.

It caused a kind of lovesick nostalgia to flood you. Something that overtook you as you watched Spencer kneel down by the sink to get on Sebastian’s level, quietly complimenting him on his brushing technique and reminding him not to miss any spots - ready with a cloth to wipe your son’s face when he was all done.

You could only imagine how sweet he would have been with the newborn, tightly swaddled Seb; how he would have taken care of you so well after you gave birth, how perfect he would have looked with a baby in his arms. All of it left you stewing in regret, and you tried incredibly hard to hide a frown from Sebastian for the dozenth time that day.

Soon, Sebastian was rushing to jump into bed, and shouting an all too familiar request.

“Mommy, the stars!” He cheered brightly, pointing toward the lightswitch.

Spencer’s expression grew confused at this, and you felt a tingle of delight surge over the fear and anxiety for the first time in hours.

You turned off the lights, and then you walked over to a bookshelf on the far side of the room - on top of which, you had set up a star projector for Sebastian. It was something you had gotten for him as a night light when he was still very little. Even if it was an unconscious whim at the time - you couldn’t deprive Spencer’s son of the stars.

You switched it on and an array of bright stars were projected onto the ceiling, causing Spencer’s neck to crane upward in awe. Sebastian giggled in delight and flung himself backward in bed to look at it.

“He usually sleeps with this on as a night light, but he’s probably gonna want a story before he goes to sleep.” You said, motioning toward the book shelf. “You can turn the side lamp on.” You pointed to that as well. “Are you guys gonna be okay while I go get my pjs on?”

You knew that Spencer wasn’t likely to let you out of his sight - and that was exactly the look that came in his eyes; hesitant dread, clear to you even through the semi-darkness with the bright swirling lights moving across the ceiling reflected onto his face.

“Don’t lock your door.” He told you quietly. “And make sure to holler if you need anything.”

He chose his words carefully, not wanting to alarm Sebastian.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him. “I’m right down the hall.”

Then you turned to Sebastian - who was laying on his back, still admiring the stars, already looking sleepy. He’d had quite an exciting, usual day - so that wasn’t entirely surprising to you.

“I’ll come back and kiss you goodnight in a minute, okay?” You told him. “Spencer is gonna read you your goodnight story. Sounds good?”

“Yeah!” Sebastian easily agreed. “I love you, Mommy!”

That grin, those big eyes looking up at you - it really reminded you why all the pain was worth it. That you would do anything to protect him.

“I love you, too, Seb.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead, and then you moved to walk out of the room.

He added something on that caught you off guard, though, causing you to freeze in the doorway.

“Mommy?” He called out, and you turned back to look at him. “Can Spencer stay forever?”

You felt as though a fist had been jammed into your throat.

All of your bones were concrete stiff, and you couldn’t bear a single glance in Spencer’s direction - you felt his eyes on you, but you couldn’t face him.

“We - we’ll talk about it more tomorrow, okay?” You replied, having to clear your throat roughly in order to get the words out.

“Okay.” Sebastian huffed quietly, rolling into a yawn.

When you left the room, Spencer felt an intense temptation to follow you simply to pursue that subject - but he had an obligation toward his son now. Something he hadn’t had the privilege of partaking in before.

A simple bedtime story.

Spencer settled in with Sebastian and you rushed down the hallway toward your room. You closed the door behind you (not locking it) - the second that you were alone, the tears rushed out before you could stop them.

Of course your son had missed his father’s presence in his life. Even if he didn’t know that Spencer was his father - their personalities were so well-matched, and Spencer was so good with him.

How could you have been so stupid? Who were you to deny a child of his father?

You walked over to your bed and sat on the edge, and then you took your jewelry box out of your bedside table drawer - you kept it right next to the lock box that contained your gun. You opened the jewelry box and took out the star necklace that Spencer had given you, staring at the pendant in the middle of your palm with deep contemplation.

You had broken up with him for a good reason. Many good reasons. And you had known your reasons back then - and they had been life-altering. Back then - it felt like choosing between a secure life for your baby and choosing the chaos of chasing the life of your love. Back then - Spencer was so unstable. He hadn’t been fit to raise a child.

The Spencer who had swept you off your feet and treated you like a princess - the man who had given you the necklace; he was not the same person you had faced down, vicious and bitter on the night that you had broken up with him.

But that man who gave you the necklace - it felt like the same man who held you in the kitchen and promised that nothing would happen to you. It felt like the same man who looked at your son like he had hung each and every star in the sky.

You put the necklace back on with shaking hands, struggling to clasp it for a moment. You hoped that it would be an omen. The man who had given you this necklace was back, to stay - he could raise a family with you. He could be your stability. He could be what you and Seb needed.

Then, you tried to shut off your mind as you went about getting ready for bed yourself. Even though you were pretty certain that you weren’t going to sleep with all this hanging over your head, it was still nice to be in comfortable clothing; to have a routine. You did your nightly skincare (but you didn’t bother to brush your teeth, knowing that you were likely going to want some coffee soon), put on your pajamas, and uncaring if Spencer noticed - shed your bra, needing to relieve some tension from somewhere.

You left the room wearing a pair of loose, thin pajama pants and a large tee shirt with Garfield on the front of it; along with your slippers and an unzipped hoodie. You had the necklace freely untucked from the neckline of your shirt, knowing that Spencer would spot the silver chain and know what it was anyway.

He was a profiler, so he could read you like a book anyway. You hated that.

When you walked back to Sebastian’s room, you found it oddly quiet.

You were surprised that you didn’t hear the sounds of Spencer’s soothing voice reading a story, Sebastian’s laughter - his small voice egging Spencer on to read more even though it was time to go to sleep.

You stood out of view, just beyond the doorway for a moment before you decided to peer inside.

The sight inside made your chest twist with a very unique kind of pain.

Spencer was laying half on the small single bed, one of his feet on the floor to keep himself from falling off completely, his head awkwardly propped up against the headboard. Sebastian was about half a foot off the wall, cuddled up closely to Spencer, his head laid in the middle of Spencer’s chest. The Rubble plushy that Spencer had gotten him was curled up under his chin, Spencer’s arm gently petting his curly hair while he peacefully slept on top of his father for the first time in his short life.

The way Spencer looked at him was what truly broke your heart.

You knew that was the gaze of a man who had missed so much - whose own heart was breaking from all the time he had missed. Someone who was enjoying this moment more than anything in his life because he had missed out on so much of Sebastian before this.

After a few moments of you standing in the doorway silently, tears gathering in your eyes, Spencer felt your presence there. He was finally able to tear his gaze away from Sebastian’s gentle, sleeping face to look up at you.

“He said he wanted to hear ‘a new story’.” Spencer told you. “I started reciting The Old Man and The Sea from memory, and he only got about five pages in before he fell asleep.”

It didn’t surprise you that Spencer knew the novel by heart. It didn’t surprise you that his theatrical, meditative speaking voice had so easily soothed Sebastian to sleep.

You nodded, and deeply against your will - a thick tear rolled down your face.

Unable to face it any longer, you left once again - feeling like a prisoner in your own home, running from corner to corner in a poor attempt to avoid the inevitable. You rushed to the kitchen and clicked on the coffee machine before you began attending to the larger dishes from dinner - pots you had left to soak in the sink that you now wanted to scrub at in an effort to distract yourself.

Spencer felt a sense of urgency rise up in him when he saw you start crying (seemingly out of nowhere). He hated watching you run away from him for the dozenth time that day.

Any calm he had felt from watching his son fall asleep was chased out of him. But of course, he didn’t want to wake the peacefully sleeping boy, so he had to very slowly, very carefully wiggle out from underneath the sleeping boy. He adjusted Sebastian’s head onto the pillow, making sure to cover him up and tuck him in with his toy before he left the room - leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar behind him, with the star lights still circling the ceiling.

And then he practically raced downstairs to see you.

What had he done to upset you?

You wanted him to be a part of his son’s life, right? You wanted him to be a good father, right?

What the hell had he done to upset you now?

When he came into the kitchen, you were standing at the sink with your back to him, furiously scrubbing at one of the pots from dinner.

“What the hell happened?” He sighed, tired and frustrated. “What the hell could I have possibly done now?”

“You didn’t do anything.” You replied, your voice short, angry, and still choked off by tears.

In truth, it was your most honest view of the situation.

This made Spencer spike with an even deeper frustration.

He thought that the two of you had been making progress. But now, you were cutting him off again. You were trying to placate him with lies when he so badly wanted the truth. He wanted to air it all out. The two of you needed it out - out it in the open instead of festering away like a damn secret.

“No, no.” He pressed, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, swarming with bitterness. “Come on, I must have done something.”

You remained silent, letting out a single sniffle as you continued to scrub - the only sound going through the kitchen being the sloshing of water through the sink and the bubbling of the coffee maker.

“Trust me, I know how it is.” Spencer sighed. “I don’t open up enough, I don’t trust you… it’s always my fault.”

In the months after the break-up, he had done a lot of thinking. He had gone over it in his head again and again - he had picked apart his own flaws in his mind, wondering how he could have been better for you.

“That’s just it.” You replied, your throat closing up due to your own tears. “You’re perfect.” You sniffled again. “You didn’t do anything.”

This left Spencer silent and confused - wondering for a moment if you were being sarcastic.

You put down the sponge and grabbed a dry dish cloth off to the side, drying your hands as you turned back to Spencer.

When he caught your eyes, he knew then that it wasn’t sarcasm. You were swimming in sadness, turmoil, but most of what he could see was guilt. You didn’t blame him for any of this.

“Y/N-”

“All day, you’ve been perfect.” You huffed out, cutting him off. “I’ll be honest, at first, I thought it was an act. I thought you were just playing at it, trying to show me that you could be a good father to get in my good graces. To maybe get me back.”

Spencer was hurt by this. But with the way you had started off the sentence, that didn’t seem to be your opinion now. He remained silent, letting you continue to get the full stream of your thoughts out.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to keep it up. I thought something would happen. I thought you’d slip… but then, I realized: you can’t fake it. You’re not faking it. The way you are… you’ve changed. You really have changed.” You sighed.

He was glad to hear that, but he knew that there was something else. Now, he was determined to find out why you were upset.

“Look-”

“Did I hallucinate the whole thing?” You spoke suddenly. “I just feel so crazy… Did I really break up with you for no fucking reason?”

This stung Spencer.

He knew that there had been a myriad of good reasons at the time. But something he had gone over in his mind, stewing with regret over and over again - he had never wanted it to be a break-up. He had wished over and over again that the two of you could have worked on things instead of just ending them so suddenly.

“You did have your reasons back then.” Spencer admitted quietly. “I know that you did.” Then, after a moment, he felt the need to add on: “I… I know they were good reasons. I don’t blame you for wanting to end the relationship.”

He chose his words carefully in that sense.

He fully understood ending the relationship. That was your choice. But the one thing that still plagued him-

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that you were pregnant?” He asked, entirely exasperated.

It was as though he had flipped the knife around, plunging it into you this time.

You remained stunned and silent, not prepared to be confronted by the question, and Spencer, utterly hurt, continued on.

“You stole four years of his life from me! Four years!” He shouted, his words whipping at you in a way that made you flinch. “And you were never planning on telling me! You were gonna let me miss everything! His first day of school, his college graduation, his wedding! You never wanted me in his life! You-!”

“Because you weren’t good enough for him!” You shouted back, utterly defensive.

You hated that you couldn’t take it back - you hated the pain that flooded across Spencer’s features.

“Not back then.” You added on, knowing that it was barely a worthy addendum. “The man I left standing in that apartment wasn’t someone I wanted to raise a child with-”

“How is that any excuse?” Spencer spit back bitterly.

You glared at him.

You had your reasons then. It felt like you were on trial, now, though. And you had to scramble to put together a defense - to explain it to him when he had been the accused in the crime at the time.

“You really can’t understand why I didn’t tell you that I was pregnant?” You gaped, still defensive.

“No, I really don’t get it.” He agreed, shaking his head. “You had to know that I would have done anything to become a father. No matter what, I would have stepped up, I-”

“Oh, don’t give me that!”

You were raising your voice now, years old anger bubbling up in your veins, awoken by his self righteous attitude - his foggy nostalgia when viewing his past self.

“It was bad, Spencer. It was a bad time. And you can’t tell me with all honesty that you would have turned it around like that,” You snapped your fingers to help demonstrate the point. “Just because you found out that when you came inside me, it stuck.”

“I would have tried.” Spencer pressed.

“But you wouldn’t have tried for me?” You replied desperately.

That stung you deep, tearing open some of the wounds you still had from that night.

It was something you had suspected, but you had never heard him confirm it for certain.

When you had been back there, begging him to change - he had turned on you. You alone weren’t good enough for him.

Spencer’s face fluctuated rapidly between shock and discomfort, and with no words from him, you continued.

“A baby would have been enough for you, but when I was sobbing, begging you to get better - that wasn’t good enough?” You continued, fresh tears clutching at your throat, beginning to simulate the sight he had been met with on the night you had broken up.

It was a terrible mirror. You standing in front of him, your face a picture of pure pain with glassy tears dancing in your eyes - begging him for answers, begging him to show that he loved you. That he would step up and improve out of love for you.

Because that’s what it was.

It hit him so suddenly then.

He saw that night - that deadly, world ending fight - in a whole new light now.

…

Just before the break-up, you and Spencer hadn’t officially moved in together, but you did have a key to his apartment. Moving in together was supposed to be the next logical step in your relationship, and he was heavily considering asking you to move in with him.

Well, he had been thinking about it - before his entire world was turned upside-down by a man named Tobias Hankel. When he came home scarred and emotionally chaotic, thinking about taking ‘next steps’ in life wasn’t really something he was doing.

Instead, he was in survival mode. And for the first time in his life, he was trying to do as little thinking as possible. Whenever he spent too much time in his own head, he had nightmares - he found himself back in that tiny room, strapped down to that chair, cold and unable to escape, with death looming over his head.

He hated that he relied on the drugs to drown it all out.

Among the mess that he often found between his ears - he often forgot that you had a key to his place.

When he came home that night, he was expecting to take a particularly heavy hit that would hopefully put him right into a long, dreamless sleep. He definitely did not expect you to be there. It wasn’t something that the two of you had discussed beforehand. If you had asked to come over, he likely would have said no. He squinted against the lights as he opened the door to his apartment and a particular wave of nausea hit him as the smell of food cooking hit his nose.

Perhaps it was that ironic kind of nausea that only comes after starving for so long. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Of course, his body seemed to run perfectly fine on nothing but coffee and that precious thing that felt so heavy in his pocket. As far as he knew, he didn’t need to eat.

“Spencer?” You called out his name when you heard the door creaking on its hinges, and Spencer sighed deep in his chest when he realized that the interaction was inevitable.

So much for a peaceful night.

You had been so much of a nag lately. The way you had been acting, he would even border on calling it bitchy.

When he wanted you there for meaningless sex to get his mind off things or even if he just wanted to cuddle, when he needed you to hold him - you always wanted to talk. You were constantly on him, asking him what was wrong, and how you could help. You wouldn’t just shut up and leave well enough alone; no matter how many times he told you to lay off and insisted that he was fine. (He knew that it was a lie, but he didn’t force you to talk about your problems. He wished you could see that he just wanted to be left alone. That he could get through this on his own.)

The last time he had seen you, he had torn out of your apartment at the speed of sound when he had taken off his sweater in anticipation of some hopefully mind numbing orgasms - and instead, you had asked about the marks on his arm.

And he had been dreading seeing you again ever since.

“Hey.” He called back dully, slinking in the door and closing it behind him.

He tossed his keys onto a nearby table - one that was already messy with books and newspapers. He took off his messenger bag and tossed it down carelessly too, still not turning to look at you as he peeled off his outer jacket. He left a sweater on underneath to keep his arms covered; he didn’t need any more questioning from you right now.

“I made you dinner.” You pointed out, your voice tentatively hopeful. “It’s that cheese tortellini that you said you liked. And I stopped by that little shop downtown and got some of those chocolate cupcakes.”

When Spencer finally turned around, you were holding a bright pink box with the lid open, displaying two very plump, beautifully decorated chocolate cupcakes - a small, tired smile on your lips while you waited for him to say something about the kindness of the gesture.

A fresh wave of nausea rolled over him at the sight and all he felt was annoyance.

(What made things worse was that you had clearly taken the time to dress up. You were wearing one of your nicer dresses, a matching cardigan thrown over your shoulders. A light, but well done dusting of makeup across your beautiful features. If Spencer wasn’t mistaken, he could hear the clack of heels beyond the counter where he couldn’t see your lower half. You looked gorgeous, and it made him feel all the more like garbage where he stood.)

“You didn’t have to.” He huffed out, still trying to be civil, even though all he wanted at the moment was to be left alone in his own home, rather than having you there, bothering him.

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” You giggled, closing the box and setting it aside. “You’re absolutely worth it.”

That was it. That was the comment that truly cut through him.

Because he wasn’t worth it - he was a scumbag. He was a piece of trash who pitied a man who had killed seven people, and he should have died in that shitty little shack in the cemetery instead of standing here with you while you took the time to buy him cupcakes and make him dinner. He shouldn’t get to be spoiled by you after everything he had done.

Every ounce of that anger that he was feeling toward himself boiled over like a terrible overcooked pot and came spitting out like hot oil, ready to burn you.

“Can you just shut up?” He snapped. “I didn’t ask you to do any of this.”

He felt regret churn in his stomach when your face curled with hurt, and he was surprised when you didn’t immediately leave.

“It’s okay.” You said quietly.

The fact that you rolled over so easily, so apologetic - that annoyed him more.

He watched on with shock as you reached a hand toward your purse, which was sequestered off on one edge of the counter - a space you had clearly cleaned off before you had started cooking.

(Spencer could only imagine how much you looked down upon him, considering him a lazy pig with how messy and generally unhygienic his apartment was because - even though he hated it - he couldn’t bring himself to clean with his generally mental disarray as of late.)

You put a hand into the open zipper of your bag and soon came out with something you easily knew was there, didn’t even have to dig around for, and Spencer watched on curiously as your hand came back with a thick fistful of colorful pamphlets.

“I also got these for you.” You said, extending the arm out to him.

He had a terrible knot in his gut.

He stepped forward on shaking legs and when he grabbed them from you - surely enough, it was exactly what he had feared.

Spencer’s eyes grew tense with anger as he scanned over it all.

A bunch of crap about sober living with generic stock images of people smiling - well paid models who had never known a single day of pain in their stupid, well groomed lives. People who could never even imagine what Spencer had been through.

“We can talk about it when you’re ready.” You told him, anxiety keeping your breath tight in your chest as you spoke. “I know it’s hard, so-”

What the hell did you know?

“God, you are so fucking full of it!” Spencer shouted, tossing down the pamphlets, causing them to scatter across the counter in a mess, his sudden spike in volume making you flinch.

As though you had been slapped, it took you a moment to recover from the pure shock of his words before you could actually speak any kind of reply.

“What?” You gaped at him. “Spencer, what the hell do you mean? I’m trying to help-”

“‘Oh, I know it’s hard.’” He repeated your words in a mocking voice. “Please, what the hell do you know?”

That caused a dangerous shift in you, turning the understanding and pity inside of you toward fed-up anger.

“I don’t know anything because you won’t tell me!” You shouted back. “You won’t even tell me what the hell is wrong! It’s like you don’t even fucking trust me!”

Unconsciously, this is exactly what Spencer had wanted. He had wanted a fight - claws, noise. He needed to be punished. He couldn’t stand you sitting around, acting so damn calm, being so sweet to him when he was so awful.

“Why should I tell you?” Spencer argued, grasping blindly at nothing, yelling just to make noise. “It’s none of your goddamn business!”

“Why wouldn’t this be any of my business?” You gasped. “Spencer, we’ve been together for - what? Almost three years now?”

It had been two years, eleven months, and three days since your first date. It had been two years, eleven months, and fifteen days since he had first spoken to you. It had been three years and four days since he had first laid eyes on you - thinking that you were the most beautiful woman on earth, thinking that he would never, ever work up the courage to speak to you. Thinking that there was no chance on earth that you would ever actually be his.

And now, he was about to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

All good things must come to an end, right?

“I care about you.” You said, your voice cracking around the words - the ghost of tears beginning to form in your throat, like dark clouds forming in the sky before a storm. “That makes it my business.”

Spencer huffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“It’s not just ‘whatever’, Spencer!” You screamed, your frustration flaring up once again.

He didn’t speak, he just kept on glaring at you. This pissed you off more - finally gave you the balls to say it.

“You’re on drugs!” You finally found the courage to speak it aloud. There was a tense stare down as you waited for him to deny the accusation. When he didn’t, a sharp spear pierced your chest, and the first tears fell. “You’re hurting yourself. This is a big deal, baby. You need help.”

Looking back on it now - it had been four years, nine months, and eight days since the last time you had called him ‘baby’. He should have seen it then, but this was the beginning of the end.

He should have latched onto it as a safety line and pulled himself ashore. He should have accepted the help that you were so graciously offering him.

But instead, at the time - it only stung him more. It only showed him a display of the sweetness that he didn’t think he deserved. It only caused him to turn on his defenses more.

Like a poisonous plant evolving his instincts in the worst way - it made him fight back harder.

“Don’t tell me what I fucking need!” Spencer cried out, every inch of his voice utterly insulted. “So what if I’m on drugs? You’re not a fucking peach yourself!” He let out a bitter, airy chuckle with these words, and instantly your face shifted.

A very large part of you knew that he was resorting to personal attacks because he was desperately trying to shift the attention away from himself - away from talking about his own problems. But with the shock and hurt pulsing through your system, you couldn’t truly focus on the logic of it all.

“What?” You gaped. “Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“You - you act so goddamn perfect all the time, but-”

He stuttered, hesitating for a fraction of a moment, watching the hurt and confusion tangle over your beautiful features - he could have blamed it on the drugs in his system or the fact that the trauma had been so recent and he technically had not ‘recovered’ from it. But he made the final move, then, hurling a harpoon into your relationship, making a giant wound that couldn’t be recovered from.

“But you’re a pathetic, shallow little girl with abandonment issues because your father left you before you hit puberty-” He said, breaking you down in that intense, psychological, profiler way. “You seek validation from me, the man you’re having sex with, in the most utterly Freudian way, and when you don’t receive that validation, you starve yourself in the name of vanity, seeking satisfaction and control that you’ll never truly obtain because you’re a narcissistic control freak!”

He managed to hit every point perfectly; he had used his skills to look into your soul, hand-picking every single thing that would have hurt you most. Given, he also had information that you had told him during late-night conversations where the two of you had bonded. You had told him about your shitty father and the eating disorder that you struggled with on and off since childhood (and still occasionally struggled with since you had met him). He had told you about his mother and his own shitty father - but it was never something that you would have used against him.

You knew that it was meant to hurt you - to distract you. You knew that he was lashing out in order to put a wall between himself and you. But you couldn’t help the giant lump that rose up in your throat, the flood of tears that poured freely down your face.

Hearing those words right from his mouth was one of your worst nightmares come to life - as though one of your safest, softest places to land was now a bed of thorns.

Spencer’s gut twisted when he saw you crying, but like a man possessed, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Did you honestly think that being with me was going to fix you?” He let out a dark chuckle, sounding well and truly like a super villain, punching right through your heart. “Maybe, you should spend less time focusing on me and my supposed problems,” He griped, sarcasm tight on his lips. “And spend a bit more time fixing yourself.”

You sucked in a chest rattling breath, and began gathering your purse, leaving the pamphlets on the counter as you moved to grab your coat off the hook.

You would forever regret turning back for one last word, your throat quaking hard and struggling to even get the words out.

“And how would you recommend that I do that?” You asked, entirely bitter.

“Well, for starters, you could use a few less cupcakes in your life.” He replied, snarky, demanding.

He was angry about the cupcakes because they represented everything good about you - your generosity, your kindness, your propensity to view the small things in life as a representation of life being good as a whole.

It came off sounding like a jab at your weight, degrading your perfect body - especially after he had called you narcissistic for having an eating disorder.

A sharp jolt went through his chest when the words fully penetrated his own ears - when he truly heard how terrible it was.

Especially when he saw the look of horror that struck your gorgeous, tear-soaked features.

“Y/N-” He said your name so softly, and an apology begging to be chased from his lungs.

But you wouldn’t let him.

“We’re done here.” You declared, a dark finality in your voice as you turned and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind you.

At the time, Spencer simply thought you meant - done with the conversation. He didn’t know that you had already decided that your words were declaring - done with the relationship. At the time, you were well and truly done with Spencer Reid.

He ached to chase after you, to scream apologies down the hall, no matter who would hear him - but his feet only carried him as far as the door before he collapsed against it, pressing his forehead hard into the wood while his soul clawed at the inside of his chest, aching to get to you, mourning that he had hurt you so badly.

Spencer left the food to go stale, turning off all the lights in the apartment. Then he took a strong hit, and cried himself to sleep.

He woke up the next morning stewing in regret. He called you, and of course, you didn’t answer. He sat on the edge of his bed, thinking. He wondered if he should go to your favorite coffee shop, get your favorite breakfast and go to your place to force his way in so that he could talk things over with you. He wondered if he should agree to go to one of the sober treatment programs that you had picked out just to please you.

While he was considering all of this, his phone rang, and he rushed to pick it up, thinking that maybe it was you. It was JJ, alerting him to a case. He gathered his things and left for work, letting you fall into the back of his mind, thinking that he would be able to pick up the pieces and apologize when he got back.

But it had been too late.

The next time he opened his apartment door, he tripped over the key he had given you. You had slid it under the door in order to return it to him after locking up.

You had let yourself in to gather your things from Spencer’s place, and to leave a very large box of his things that had been left at your place in the middle of his kitchen counter. Beside that box was an envelope with his name on it. A six page handwritten letter from you, explaining all of your reasoning for not wanting to speak to him in person, wishing him well in getting sober, telling him not to make any efforts to contact you again because he had hurt you so badly and you simply needed to heal - and declaring the end of the relationship finite and official.

(Your pregnancy, of course, was mentioned nowhere among those six pages.)

Several weeks later, Spencer would receive a similar letter from Gideon when he left the BAU without telling anyone.

When he read your letter, Spencer sobbed so loudly that his throat hurt.

And after reading it several more times, letting it truly hit him - he flushed the last of the stash he had down the toilet. A few weeks later, after he had worked up the courage, he went to your apartment. After a while of him knocking on the door and calling your name, begging for you to come out and see him, one of your neighbors came out. They yelled at him to shut up, and informed him that you had moved.

That was the first day Spencer went to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting.

…

It had all happened so fast.

You found out you were pregnant, and you knew that the end of your lease was coming up. It had been a time you were hoping to move in with Spencer, but with that hope blown to shreds, you needed a fresh start.

Your mom knew someone selling for cheap because it was in a newly developing area, and most of the other houses around it weren’t finished yet. She thought it wouldn’t appeal to you because it was in a different state, but - you found yourself calling the real estate agent and packing up your boxes that week.

You figured that because you had done so well growing up without a father, your kid didn’t need one either. You didn’t want Spencer to cause more trouble being in his life and being unstable than not being there at all.

So you fled. It seemed like the wisest decision at the time.

…

Spencer had been so stupid.

Not only had he hurt you badly - but you had wanted him to get sober out of love. You had been so patient with him, so soft, so loving. You weren’t talking about his addiction because you wanted to pick apart his flaws. You hadn’t gone to his apartment that night because you wanted to hurl around accusations. You hadn’t wanted to be invasive; you hadn’t thought that he was a genuinely horrible, broken person and you simply wanted him to admit that.

You saw that he was hurting and you had wanted to help him heal.

At the time, you had nothing but love for him - and you had even loved those broken parts of him. He hadn’t been prepared to accept that love. He had made a terrible mistake. And there was only one thing he could do now.

Spencer shocked you when he moved from leaning on the kitchen counter and got down on his knees in front of you. Your jaw slacked in shock and you stared down at him as he clasped his hands together as though praying, staring up at you with his wide, wet eyes.

“I am so sorry.” He said, his voice quaking around the words. “I know that I could never apologize enough for what happened - I was horrible to you back then. You definitely didn’t hallucinate that.”

“Well… it wasn’t all you, right? I mean, you weren’t really yourself then.” You sniffled, clearly making an implication toward the fact that he had been taking drugs.

All this time, you had put a lot of emotional stake in that. When you looked back on your memories with Spencer, you hoped that drugs was solely the reason he had turned into a different person - a kind of person who would make such harsh personal attacks toward you.

It made a lot of sense as to why he was so sweet, so normal, so personable, so good with Sebatian, so himself now. He must be sober.

“That’s no excuse.” He told you. “I need to take full responsibility for my behavior. I treated you with the type of cruelty that no person should ever have to experience, let alone a partner.”

“Spencer, get up, please.” You reached over and grabbed the fabric at the shoulder of his shirt, and he let you haul him to his feet.

It felt all too natural to stay close to you.

As you leaned up against the counter beside the sink, your hands drifted to his waist and pulled him to you. And his hands lingered behind you on the counter, bracketing you in. His face hovered close to yours - this was the closest he had come to kissing you all day. His eyes lingered on your lips.

But he knew that the two of you were too close now - too close to the truth.

He had to let you speak instead. He couldn’t risk ruining things again.

“I accept your apology.” You told him quietly.

It was something you had been waiting years to hear him say. This moment - this whole day - it was like something out of your distant fantasies. You didn’t think that you would ever get to see this version of Spencer again. And now, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with him. You still felt too cautious.

“I really want to work on things.” It was the truth, and you knew that you had to speak it out loud. “I really want you to be a part of Sebastian’s life.”

I really want to work on things.

It was the tiniest scrap of hope, but it was all he needed to pursue things.

“Are you and I gonna work on things?” Spencer asked, barely above a whisper, reaching a hand up to oh-so-gently brush his fingers across the side of your face. “Is there a future for us?”

He closed his eyes and tentatively pressed his forehead into yours while you tightly gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. His soul was clawing at his chest once again, feeling all too much like the night you had left him in the apartment all alone.

But this time, he wasn’t prepared to let you go.

“Can you answer something honestly?” You whispered.

“Anything.” Spencer replied.

“Have you…?” You breathed out, unsure how to phrase the question. “When was the last time… are you clean? Like - are you sober?”

You were almost certainly sure that he was. He was acting so different, so much more like the version of Spencer that you had fallen in love with. But you couldn’t have someone who was actively on drugs parenting your son. And you had to hope that his prolonged trip to the bathroom earlier wasn’t for that reason.

“One thousand, seven hundred, and two days.” Spencer replied. “That’s how long I’ve been sober.”

That was a very long time. You let out a breath of relief, and Spencer felt it puff out against his chin. To clarify, he then said:

“It’s about - four years, eight months, and two days.” He added on.

“So… a little after the time I ended things.” You concluded.

You felt a pang of guilt flow through you. At the time, you knew that breaking up with him was a risk. It was a painful event, and he could have turned to drugs even more for comfort. You had taken away his support system, something that could have helped him in getting sober. But he was spiraling, and you couldn’t stay there and let him take you down too.

When you found out about the pregnancy, you realized that a large part of how quick you were to act and how rash you were was likely due to the pregnancy hormones. But you weren’t going to rush back and apologize to Spencer because you didn’t want an addict helping to raise your child. You didn’t think that he would simply quit cold turkey because he found out about the baby - not from the way you had seen him.

But apparently -

“The break-up… the way things ended, it was a huge catalyst in helping me get sober.” Spencer told you. “And I’m thankful for that.”

That part surprised you.

At the time, you know you could have severely relapsed in your eating disorder.

The only reason you didn’t was because you found out that you were pregnant. Knowing that you had another human life to support, that your body wasn’t just your own - it pushed you to eat healthy, and allowed you the mental room to eat ‘treats’ when you wanted to. Nobody cares if a pregnant woman gets fatter, and that did make you feel safe, in a sense.

You knew that you didn’t want to date after Sebastian was born - you were focusing so much on him that you didn’t have too much room to be self conscious of your Mommy body. You exercised by lifting Sebastian and carrying him around. Later, you got plenty of exercise chasing him around when he could walk. You didn’t think too much about your diet, because you mostly just ate what he did, and made sure that he was eating healthy.

In a lot of ways, he saved you. Becoming a mother was the best thing that could have happened - for your mind, body, and soul.

“What I was doing… it was not the kind of coping mechanism I should have used.” Spencer spoke up again, distracting you from your own thoughts. “But knowing that I hurt you like that - knowing that I lost the best thing in my life… it made me realize that I was turning into someone I didn’t want to be. I was turning into this utterly horrible person, and I needed to change.”

“Spencer-” You choked out.

Hearing him describe himself as an ‘utterly horrible person’ did hurt.

“It’s okay.” He said softly.

“Can - can I ask what happened?” You whispered. “What made you turn to-? I mean… you left and then when you came back… you were so different.”

He knew what you were talking about.

He wasn’t even sure how he could put it into words for you.

A man in Georgia who had taken on the personality of his father in order to survive. Seven murders in the name of religion. A case that was supposed to be straightforward - a time where Spencer had nearly met God himself.

He had refused to tell you back then because he didn’t want to be seen as weak. He didn’t want to taint you with the details. He wanted to be comforted and coddled by you without you knowing why he needed that comfort.

After a moment of Spencer not speaking - standing there with distant horror in his eyes as it all replayed in his mind, you spoke again.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” You said, reaching up and gently petting a hand down his arm. “You’ve done a lot of healing since then, and I know it’s in your past now.”

“Tobias Hankel.” He told you, confusing you slightly for a moment before he continued. “He - he was a man who killed seven people. It was a case in Georgia. It was supposed to be standard. We were called in to profile the murders, and actually - he was listed as a witness, and JJ and I went out to interview him. It was a really secluded area. And we got separated.” Spencer took in a breath, and you continued touching his arm, a gentle assurance that you were there, that it was okay. “And… he caught me off guard. He knocked me unconscious.”

Spencer didn’t feel the need to give you all the dirty details. How he had been shocked by Tobias speaking in the voice of his father, by the appearance of ‘both suspects’ in one body. How he had begged for mercy.

“And he took me to another location. And when I woke up… I had no clue where I was.” He said, this throat tightening up as the memories came flooding back to him.

“Oh baby, that must have been so scary.” You said, the word flying from your lips out of instinct as you moved your hand to his chest - instinctively trying to protect his heart with the whole of your palm.

Hearing it from your lips, so gentle, so soothing - baby.

Spencer felt like he was at home again. It was the last thing he needed to crack open that door - everything he had been holding back, every raw emotion - it came flooding out.

He blinked out tears, and you thought that it was terror resurfacing from that day.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” You told him, reaching up to wipe those tears away. “I’m here now.”

That’s all he had ever wanted. To be here with you. All he had ever needed.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“You don’t have to thank me.” You replied, your voice gentle.

“At the time - he drugged me.” Spencer continued the explanation - the one he so dutifully owed you. “That - that’s why.” He stuttered out. “When I came home… I couldn’t stop. It was the only thing numbing the pain. The only thing stopping me from… truly facing it all. From thinking about everything that had happened to me - processing it. I didn’t want to like it, but… it was the only thing that got me through when I was… when I felt like I was so close to death. I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know how to exist without it at the time.”

Spencer took in a sharp breath.

“And when you left, I realized that I needed to stop - I needed to stop the drugs, or I was just gonna lose everything.”

“You are so strong.” You said, your own voice ripe with tears as you continued to hold Spencer’s face, holding both of his cheeks now, forcing his gaze toward you. Your eyes were burning passionate, every inch of the declaration intense and strong. “Spencer, you got through that and came home. I don’t know if I could have done what you did.”

“You could have.” He told you, entirely truthful. “You’ve been raising a child by yourself for four years. Never doubt how strong you are.”

He wanted to deflect - eager to stop talking about himself now. But he was doing it with compliments this time. He knew that he could never make it up to you, but he would never stop with the flattery. He would never stop trying.

“God, Spencer. I missed you so much.” You said, your throat clenching around the words. Then, before you could stop it:

“You know I never stopped loving you, right?”

He swore that his heart stopped in that moment.

“I - I don’t think I could have stopped loving you if I tried.” He replied, his tongue fat and dry in his mouth, having to swallow tightly after he spoke.

You used your hands on his cheeks to pull him toward you, then, and like the inevitability of the earth rounding the sun as the years passed - Spencer came home to you, sighing into your mouth as he felt your lips in that perfect, beautiful kiss. He finally felt that tightness ease in his chest - maybe it was a feeling he had been waiting to pass for years, his heart locked up and tight with that love for you strangling him from the inside, clawing to get out with you not around for him to truly love you the way he needed to. With his son somewhere out there in the world, waiting to be loved by him.

Your lips were so smooth and perfect against his - and it wasn’t long before that sweet love turned aching, insistent, and passionate.

Spencer put his hands on your hips and scooted you back up onto the counter. You let your body naturally shift with the movements, letting yourself slowly fall into the trust of being touched by him again. You let out a moan into his mouth and embraced his tongue past your lips, one of your hands moving to tangle into his now much wilder hair. You loved the feeling of his voice vibrating a moan against you as you gave his roots a gentle tug.

Heat surged through your body as he stepped between your now wide open knees, pressing himself right up against you where you were sitting on the counter - he needed to get closer. He needed to feel you. His crotch pressed tightly against yours - causing a stirring of heat and wetness in your underwear matching him as he was just beginning to get hard.

He had missed you so much. And it had been so long for both of you - you had barely looked at other people since the break-up, and having the touch of a lost loving stirred something in your bodies that made you both so hungry.

Spencer pulled away from your lips and began kissing down your neck, eager to suck and lick and kiss and consume as much of your skin as possible. When he came across the chain of the neck sitting on your skin, he gave it a loving lick and hummed into your skin, and you moaned his name into the air.

“Spence, oh!”

And then-

Then there was a crash from somewhere else in the house. The sound of glass breaking.

You hadn’t set the alarm - because typically that was something you did before going to bed.

Someone was breaking into the house.

The killer was coming for you.

“Spencer!” You said his name with more urgency now as his head whipped up from the crook of your neck, looking around for the danger, not yet moving from between your legs as he assessed the situation.

There was a crash from your office as something was knocked over. The sound of someone stumbling as they climbed in through the broken window.

He grabbed one of the nearby kitchen knives from the block, quickly realizing that his gun was his bag by the front door - too far to run for.

“Go upstairs, get Sebastian, take him in your room and lock the door.” He told you, his voice as authoritative as you had ever heard it. He took his cellphone from his pocket and thrust it into your shaking hand. “Call JJ or any contact in this phone labeled BAU. Call until they pick up and tell them that we need back up here. No matter what happens or what you hear, do not open the door for anybody. Got it?”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Six - That's What You Get (Finale)

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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navia3000 · 8 days

Text

s o l o n g , l o n d o n

Includes : Aaron Hotchner

Genre : Angst

Warnings : Mentions of break downs, drinking, mentions of depression symptoms, not proof-read

Based On : So Long, London by Taylor Swift

Part two : All My Ghosts

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

“Haley wants us to get back together.” Upon hearing those words, her heart dropped. She realized why Hotch asked her to come on this ‘date’. She thought he was finally going to ask her to make whatever they were official, but she now knew he just wanted to let her down easy.

“What?” She asked. She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes, her view of Hotch blurry and distorted. Though she couldn’t see very well, she could see the pity and regret written on his face.

“She wants us to try to be a family again.” She took a second to process his words.

“And, what did you say?” She knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from him.

“I said yes.” He watched the tears fall from her eyes. “I had to, for Jack. For my family. We both knew this wasn’t a sure thing, Y/N. I’m your boss, and our jobs are dangerous enough, this wasn’t going to work.” He was right. Since she started at the BAU, she developed a crush on her slightly older, and incredibly intimidating boss. She would’ve never thought he felt the same towards her, and she was constantly teased by her fellow profilers about it, until he asked her out on the way home from a case. She was elated. They went on a couple dates, and she was sure they were going great. Until now.

“And Haley gave you the out. Instead of telling me, you led me on,” she choked on her sobs. She reached for her purse, preparing herself to leave Aaron Hotchner and her heart along with him. “Go back to your family, Hotch. And don’t worry, I’ll pretend like nothing ever happened.”

And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

The team was shocked and confused when Y/N took a two-week leave of absence. She left without telling anyone or saying where she was going, she didn’t even tell Hotch, going straight to Strauss and asking for her leave, using the ‘family emergency’ excuse. They were even more surprised when she returned, acting as if she hadn’t just left without a word.

She could feel their eyes on her the minute she entered the briefing room. She sat down, chin high, eyes forward, not daring to look any of them in the eye for fear they would see through her facade.

Hotch’s eyes burnt a whole in her head. They hadn’t talked, interacted even, since that night. And while she was going to be profesional, she didn’t want him thinking he broke her heart, even if he did.

“Y/N, good to see you back.” JJ was the first to address her, the first to break the silence. She gave JJ a smile, and turned to look at the file sitting in front of her, keeping to herself throughout the briefing.

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

The team had moved the briefing onto the jet, the case being of a serial killer who was quickly devolving. The profilers all noticed their fellow coworker and friend’s strange behavior, her demeanor entirely different to the one she wore before her leave. She wouldn’t indulge conversation with the others, always directing the topic onto the case. The agents had also picked up on Hotch’s behavior; how his eyes would linger on Y/N for a little too long, and how he avoided referencing the woman.

Emily was growing even more concerned for her friend as the minutes passed, and when she saw her heading to the front of the jet for coffee, she quickly followed. “Hey,” she alerted Y/N of her presence, turning and closing the curtains to give them some privacy.

“Hi,” she gave a tight-lipped smile, moving to go back to her seat before Prentiss grabbed her arm.

“What’s going on?” She saw her friend’s face harden, her eyes moving to her feet.

“Nothing,” she knew better than to try and pretend like nothing was wrong around a bunch of profilers, but she couldn’t admit to herself that hers and Hotch’s break up was taking a toll on her. She was skinnier and paler, and was clearly struggling with something. But she couldn’t even call whatever happened between them a break up; they were only going out for a month and they hadn’t even told the rest of the team. So, sticking to her word, she would continue to act as though nothing happened.

“Oh, come on, you know I don’t believe that.” Emily dropped her grip on the girl’s shoulder, moving to fiddle with the coffee cups on the table. “Something’s going on. We all see it. You don’t have to talk about it, but, I want you to know we’re all here for you.” She saw tears pooling in the younger girl’s eyes, and her concern grew and her heart broke and all she wanted was for her to be okay. “You can talk to us. You can talk to me, or JJ, or even Hotch.” At the mention of his name, she broke. Her tears ran down her face, and sobs racked her body.

Emily hurried to hug her friend, shocked at her sudden breakdown. She heard the curtain being pulled, and turned to the sight of the team’s concerned eyes on the pair. But, she made sure to watch Hotch, noticing his own eyes becoming glossy at the sight of the crying agent.

For so long, London

Had a good run

A moment of warm sun

But I'm not the one

She sat on her couch, drowning her sorrows with a bottle of wine. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had just left her apartment after a night spent of crying and laughing, the women comforting her after she had confided in them about all that happened with Hotch.

She felt better, but not great. Her heart still hurt every time Haley and Jack came to visit Hotch during his lunch break, and she kept having to excuse herself to the bathroom whenever she was around him for too long. The team pretended not to notice the tension between her and Hotch, and they both refused to acknowledge each other unless it referenced their work or a case they worked.

Everyone knew something happened between them, and they knew their friend was not okay, so they pushed past it in hopes of nursing their friend back to happiness. She was incredibly grateful for all their friends were doing for her, but it wasn’t enough.

Nobody knew that she had just given Strauss a request for a transfer from the Bureau; none of the others knew, all but one person. The same person who’s name lit up on her phone, his calls going unanswered as she sipped on her glass of wine.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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megamindsecretlair · 8 months

Text

Stay With Me

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!Shy!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male and fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Praise kink. Use of n-word. Mention of depression. Mentions of negative self-talk.

Summary: You never thought in a million years that Tyrone would look at you with desire in his eyes. Tonight, he does.

Word Count: 5,885k

A/N: I....sort of went overboard with this. I'm going to be soooo groggy in the morning! I hope I did it justice! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone

“Man, get the fuck off my porch,” Tyrone spat out and callously slammed the metal door in front of the girl’s face. You almost felt sorry for her. Almost. It was Tyrone. Of course he was gonna act like a dog after he got some play. You weren’t blaming her. But you had to keep your heart out of being with Tyrone.

The girl continued yelling so he slammed the wooden door in her face as well. It cut out of the long stream of curses and names she was calling him. She called his name and banged on the metal door, the sharp sound hurting your ears.

You watched Tyrone shake his head and return to the couch next to you. You hid a smile as you looked him over. He wore his usual dickies and black T-shirt and his hair was pulled into smooth cornrows. He blew out a breath and shook his head, settling into the couch and pointedly ignoring the banging on his door.

“Bitch act like she the police,” he muttered.

You turned your attention back to your phone. The TV played some type of game. You didn’t bother to remember which one. Tyrone endlessly flipped through channels never settling on anything.

“Go on and say it,” he said.

You looked at him and smirked. He settled sideways into the couch so that he was partially laying on your legs. You were propped against the arm of the couch, your elbow digging into the rough fabric.

“I ain’t say nothin’,” you said quietly. Even after all these years knowing Tyrone, you never managed to get over how hot he was. There was a subtle attractiveness about him. His energy or his vibe or just the way he walked and moved.

“But you want to, so go on,” he said. He turned his attention back to the TV but you saw the way his jaw flexed. He hated unnecessary drama. Well, that’s what he said. And yet, there was always some girl chasing after him because of how he dogged them out.

The girl at his door finally gave up banging on it. It was clear Tyrone wasn’t going to answer. You couldn’t tell Tyrone shit. Not a damn thing. Once he set his mind to something, there was no moving him.

For someone that hated drama so much, he was constantly in the middle of it. Whether it was his dealing, his boys, or the skirts he chased.

“There’s nothing I can say that you ain’t heard before,” you said. You smirked at your phone. Tyrone would have another girl on his porch soon. Upset and angry. Rightfully so. Tyrone never promised tomorrow. Yet without fail, there was someone thinking that they could change him. That was like expecting the sun not to rise.

“But yo ass gonna sit there smug and shit until you say somethin’,” he said.

“You make it sound like I nag,” you said and rolled your eyes.

“Might as well,” he said.

You kicked at his shoulder and he turned and bit your calf. “Ass,” you told him.

“Come on, shit,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and stared at him. “You need to be more selective with these girls you fuckin’. They stay on your damn porch,” you said.

“I can’t help it. I see some sexy ass thighs and I wanna get between ‘em,” he said. He looked at you but you knew the comment wasn’t directed at you. You ignored the long standing ache in your chest. It wasn’t his fault that you couldn’t control who you were attracted to.

Look at him! How could anyone not be attracted to him? Tyrone moved through the world like it owed him something. Like it was his God-given right to breathe this air, walk these streets. That type of confidence and self-assuredness was attractive.

You on the other hand…you knew you were shy and awkward and weird. The adjectives were like scarlet letters painted on your forehead. You had been called all three your whole life. Like they were dirty words equivalent to calling you a slut or a whore.

There was nothing wrong with those things. But if you heard it enough, it tended to take on a new meaning. One that you couldn’t leave behind. The scarlet letters proclaimed your identity before you had a chance to introduce yourself to someone. One look at you and people sized you up. Whittled away any chance of proving them wrong. Add in your resting bitch face and you turned people away without trying.

No kidding, today, you overheard someone say, “nah, she look mean” when they were looking for a place to sit. Was it a crime to not smile all the damn time? No one told men to smile that often. As if you were supposed to deal with bullshit day in and day out with a goofy ass smile on your face.

Tyrone waved his hand in front of your face. “You stay spacin’ the fuck out,” he said.

“I heard you, I was just thinkin’. You can help it. You just don’t want to,” you said. You went back to scrolling through your phone.

“What’s wrong with liking sex?”

You shrugged. “Nothin’. You could use some discretion though. How you know these people are clean?”

You shivered. The last thing you wanted was a sexually transmitted disease. The thought of it was embarrassing enough. You couldn’t imagine looking a doctor in the eye and explaining what happened.

“I wrap my shit. Plus, I don’t fuck every bitch I meet,” he said.

You laughed so hard that you threw your head back on the couch. Your sides hurt as you laughed.

“It ain’t that fuckin’ funny,” he mumbled, sucking his teeth. That only made you laugh harder. If there was one thing you could say to describe Tyrone, it was that he was a whore. An entire whore.

Whenever you hung out, he and the boys would see a fine girl walking by and crane their necks looking at her ass. You were relegated to “one of the boys”. They knew full well that you were a girl and were capable of being fine too. But no one took the time to warm up to you. No one desired you that way. You didn’t turn heads. You made people laugh until they realized you were worth looking into.

It wasn’t a dig at yourself. You just knew your role in life. You were like the song on the playlist that someone added and forgot about. Until you came up on shuffle and the listener realized that you were actually fire.

You sobered up with a deep sigh. Giggles still escaped you but Tyrone was not having it. He stared you down as if you kicked his puppy. “I’m just sayin’. You got a rep,” you said.

“A rep for layin’ pipe,” he said with a cocky grin. You rolled your eyes. Why did you bother with him in the first place?

“Sex should mean something, Tyrone,” you said.

He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause you ain’t had no good dick,” he said.

A strangled noise escaped you before you kicked at his shoulder. He moved out of the way. You did manage to kick him a little. He chuckled and held onto your foot to prevent you from kicking him more.

“I’ve had good dick, thank you very much!” You said.

“Bullshit. You’d still be fuckin’ if you had good dick,” he said.

“That’s not true. If you layin’ good pipe like you say, you fuck anything that moves. I’m just not into sharing like that. I ain’t trynna have my vag on fire,” you huffed and concentrated on your phone.

Usually, you and Tyrone had an unspoken rule. He and the crew talked about their escapades all they wanted and you pretended to be grossed out and uninterested. You never mentioned your stories. There wasn’t much to tell. And they knew it. But they never made fun of you for it. Worse. They thought it was adorable.

Because yeah, the one thing you wanted to be was adorable. Just once, you’d like to be sought after. To have someone hot and sexy in your DMs begging to get in between your legs.

People thought overweight girls were supposed to be happy with the ashy niggas. The dorks who couldn’t hold a conversation. The ugly muthafuckas with an uglier personality who thought you should suck they dick because they held the door open once.

“A’ight, who you fuck that had good dick?” Tyrone asked.

“I’m not telling you!” The tips of your ears burned as you tore your gaze away from him. For fuck’s sake, you’ve told worse things to your girls. You and your girls got graphic. Recounting sexual encounters and rating them amongst the others. Your girls had more stories than you, naturally. Damn. You really ought to stop putting yourself down.

Tyrone chuckled. “‘Cause you ain’t had no good dick, that’s why,” he said. He shook his head and went back to flipping channels.

Dismissed. Just like that. Your ears burned for different reasons. “I ain’t gotta prove shit to you, Tyrone. Worry about yourself and your diseased dick,” you said.

“Nothin’ diseased about my shit. Wanna see?” Tyrone went to the fly of his pants and your eyes widened.

“Something is seriously wrong with you,” you said. Just like that, you were laughing again. Tyrone was the only person who yanked your emotions around. You shouldn’t let him get to you. But he claimed to do it so that you would loosen up.

“I’m not a robot,” you had told him one day.

“I know. But you cool as shit and you won’t let anybody see it,” he had said back. That shut you up for about a week. Tyrone had to track you down and drag you out of the house, thinking you were in a depressive mood. You didn’t have the confidence to tell him that what he said shifted your axis.

You thought he only saw you like an annoying sister he had to drag everywhere. You practically grew up together. Your houses were right across the street from each other. If he was outside, you were outside with him. So to hear him give you a compliment touched parts of you that you learned to bury.

You blinked and turned to Tyrone who was leaning over you, his face closer to you than it’s ever been. Even when he had chased you when you were twelve and you both got tangled in the water hose and fell on top of each other.

“I can help you with that, you know,” he said.

“With what?” Your voice was quiet.

He slowly licked his lips as his eyes trailed down. “Gettin’ you some good dick,” he said.

You chuckled. “How you gonna do that? Gonna put an ad out for the big chick needin’ dick?”

“Why you do that?” He asked.

“Do what?” You were starting to get an attitude. Whatever game he was playin’, you wanted no parts of it. This was a cruel joke, even for him. And he never let you live down your prom. Not because of how you look, but because of how your date looked. He still brought it up.

“You stay puttin’ yourself down. Like you gotta do it first or somethin’.”

You gaped at him. “I-” You didn’t have anything to say to that. It was instinct to call out the elephant in the room. If not, someone else did it and was way meaner. You weren’t going to let anyone make you feel bad about yourself. But your self-deprecating humor was hurting you more. Perhaps you wanted someone to correct you, just once. To say, “fuck that, you sexy as hell”. It was a stupid wish.

“I’m just sayin’. I can help you out with it,” he said.

“You want to fuck me,” you said. You tried to hold in your laugh. You tried to take him seriously, but you felt a slow grin cross your face. He didn’t smile back. Instead, his eyes narrowed and he looked at your lips.

“Damn right. Been trynna fuck you for a while,” he said.

Your jaw dropped. Where the hell was this coming from? You sat up straight but he was still near you. He was close enough that you smelled his spicy scent and could see the dark pools of brown in his eyes. Only a few inches separated your lips from his big, juicy ones.

“What?”

He grinned. The cocky muthafucka. “Ain’t you noticed it’s just been us hanging around lately?”

No. It wasn’t until he said it that you realized. The boys had been noticeably absent. Instead of hanging with them while they roamed the streets or sat outside Tyrone’s porch, it had been just you and Tyrone. Watching TV, playing games, or taking drives up the 405 when the traffic died down. You were just happy to spend time with him. Any way you could get him.

You thought it was awesome that his crew didn’t want to hang lately. You got to be selfish and have Tyrone’s attention. That was him…flirting?

“Oh,” you said.

He laughed and shook his head. “I figured yo ass didn’t know,” he said.

He stood up, giving you enough time to breathe and deal with this turn of events. You ran through every interaction, wondering how you could be so blind.

“Nuh uh. Don’t disappear on me,” he said. He pulled you up off of the couch and took your phone. He tossed it on the couch and led you down the short hallway to his room. You had been there plenty of times. You had cracked jokes with the rest of his friends that it was radioactive with how much sex he was having. He’d wave you away, saying it wasn’t like that.

You expected it to be gross. But it was refreshingly clean. He still had shit everywhere, though. Stray clothes piled on his desk chair, clothes spilling out of the closet. He had a wall of shoes stretching towards the ceiling. What was it with guys and shoes?

He closed the door after leading you into the room. You stood there, awkwardly. You weren’t sure what to do. You hadn’t had enough time to freak out about this new development.

He chuckled at your awkwardness and grabbed your hand again, pushing you onto the bed. “What you say? You wanna see what we can get into?” He asked.

You looked at him. He wasn’t pushing you. You could’ve pulled your hand away in the living room and told him that he was crazy. “You wanna fuck me,” you said. You still couldn’t believe him. You pictured this so many times in your head. But now that it was offered to you on a silver platter, you felt like a virgin all over again.

You were aware of everything. Every sigh that left his lips. The subtle drape of his shirt on your bare arm. The heat leaping off of him.

“I wanna fuck you,” he said.

“Why?” You asked. You swear, you weren’t trying to be this dense. It just didn’t make sense to you.

“Why not? You’re fine as hell. And funny. You cool as shit,” he said.

You bit your lip as you went through all the women he had been with. He didn’t really have a type. Petite and cute was a common theme. Petite as in being short as hell. You supposed he never really been with a super skinny chick.

Tyrone was a big boy. He had some meat on them bones and it showed every time he moved. He was a solid dude. He’d probably break someone that was skinny.

The wet heat of his lips pressed against yours and you gasped. Tyrone pulled back and grinned. “Stay with me. C’mon, give me a chance,” he said.

You grinned and leaned forward, kissing him for real this time. Tyrone pushed his tongue in, rolling it against yours. You felt it down to your core. You moaned softly.

“Take these off for me,” he said. He tugged on your shirt and played with the hem of your shorts.

You stood up and pulled off your shirt. Then you unzipped your shorts and shucked them off. You stood there in your bra and panties, feeling both turned on and incredibly shy. You crossed your arms but he shook his head. He peeled your arms away from your chest and he looked his fill.

You were too nervous to look him in the eye. To look at his face. Goddamn it. You didn’t hate the way you looked. But you couldn’t get over your insecurities. “Can we turn off the light…?”

“Fuck no!” He scooted closer to the edge of the bed and grabbed your hips. He pulled you closer to stand between his legs. He rubbed your sides, your ass, and your thighs. He kissed your belly and you gasped.

He looked up at you. He licked your stretch marks. You placed your hands on his shoulders to keep your legs from folding. How long has it been since you had sex? A while. And that had been a desperate attempt at latching onto the first halfway decent guy to look your way.

He nibbled on your love handles, squeezing your flesh so he could take a big bite. You slapped his shoulder and he laughed. “That shit hurt!”

“Good,” he said. He looked at you, daring you to do something about it. Again, insecurities robbed you of any idea of what to do next. You wanted to be sexy and take the lead. You wanted to entice him. Instead, you stood there while he kneaded the back of your thighs.

“Hey, relax. Stay with me,” he said.

He prompted you to climb into his lap. You placed your knees on the side of him and rested on his lap. His thick cock pushed against his shorts and you gasped as you got your first feel of it.

Okay, you sort of got why these girls would bang on his door like that. He ran his hands up and down your back as he kissed you slowly. He played with your lips. First he’d kiss you. Then he’d pull back and lick your lips. Then, he’d run his tongue across your teeth and you shuddered.

He was content to do just that. Until you were squirming in his lap, trying to get some friction. He ran his hands across your back, fiddling with your bra until he unclipped it. He drew the cups down until it hung on your arms. You moved your hands from around his neck, but he shook his head.

“Put that shit back and hol’ on,” he said. You smiled and put it back on his shoulders. He kept his eyes on you as he put his head down and licked the top of your breast. You stuttered with a sigh.

He moaned as he latched on to your nipple and started to suck. “Oh shit,” you said. You leaned up, you weren’t expecting him to suck that hard. In fact, you hadn’t known your nipples were that sensitive. Guys mostly ignored them, too busy trying to fuck.

But Tyrone worshiped your titties. He went from one to the other, sucking and nibbling on your nipples. He sucked and yanked on one and it was like he yanked on your clit. Your wetness was pooling in your panties and you wiggled. If you were bare, his shorts would be ruined. You hissed as he yanked harder.

“Fuck!” You said and tapped his shoulder. He let go with a wet pop and your nipple stayed beaded and swollen. He did the same thing to your other titty. “You do this shit to other bitches?”

“Fuck no. You ain’t no bitch to me,” he said. He laved at your titty, encircling it with his tongue before he flicked it. You made all kinds of sounds as your eyes rolled back a bit. His hands gripped your ass and slid you higher on his lap.

Surely, he had to be hurting. His crotch was bulging and thick. It couldn’t have been comfortable for him.

His words finally registered and you melted into him, pushing your chest into his face. He grinned. “Yeah, that’s right. Give me that shit,” he said. He reverently licked and sucked on your titties until your panties were truly damp. You didn’t have time to overthink. There was nothing but his heavenly mouth on your breasts.

A strangled sigh left you. You were grinding down on his dick. You almost had him in the perfect spot to rub against your clit.

Abruptly, he stood up with you in his arms. You panicked. All the tension returned as you left the ground. You clung to him and he chuckled. “I got you,” he said. He kissed your cheek and the corner of your mouth until you focused on him instead of how much it would suck to crash to the ground. Carpet or not, the shit would hurt.

He laid you down on the bed and removed his shirt and pants. He rubbed himself over his briefs but he leaned down and took off your bra completely. He kissed your neck, licked your collarbone, and continued down. His hands peeled your legs apart and you moaned at the force he used.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured into your skin. “You wet for me?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer. His fingers traced your pussy through your panties and he groaned in satisfaction feeling the wet spot there. You gyrated on his hand while he kissed his way back up to your face.

He pressed his thumb in, pushing your panties into your clit and he rubbed harder. “Oh shit,” you moaned. He swallowed your moans. He kissed you and continued to play with you over your panties until you were panting and shaking.

He kissed down to your ear and bit at your earlobe. “Let that shit go,” he said.

You whimpered before your knees slapped together and you came with his hand still on you. “You so pretty when you cum,” he whispered in your ear.

He stood up with a satisfied smirk as he watched the last dregs of your orgasm leave you. He removed your sopping wet panties and kissed your knees when he finally got them off. He rubbed and caressed your thighs until you were relaxing against him once more.

He opened your legs and stared at your pussy. “Fuck. So fuckin’ pretty. You ain’t had nobody work yo shit, huh?”

You shook your head but realized he may not have seen it. “No,” you admitted. No one had done half the things that Tyrone just did. He made you cum without really touching you. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or impressed. It should not be that easy to get you off. It usually took you a long while. So much so, that you gave up foreplay with men.

Tyrone stuck his nose against your clit and inhaled. You yelped and jerked up the bed. He bit your thigh and his arms hooked under your legs. He pulled you back down and placed his nose against you, sniffing you. He rubbed his nose in your wetness and you choked on a half laugh, half moan.

“Goddamn,” he moaned. His tongue darted out to get a taste and he moaned again. “Taste fuckin’ good too. Matter of fact, I’m mad at you now,” he said.

You leaned up on your elbows and looked at him. He was a damn good sight to behold. His head was still dipped between your thick thighs and the look on his face…you wished you could take a picture. He looked hungry. His eyes were wide and he kept licking his lips as if you were still on his tongue.

“What you mad at me for?” You asked.

“Keeping this fuckin’ pussy from me,” he said. You choked on a laugh. He dipped down and ran his tongue from your pussy to your clit. Your hips bucked and he held you down with his arms.

He held you in place as he continued to lick you like ice cream. He was slow and methodical, letting you feel his tongue as it swirled around your wetness. Your pussy pulsed in time with his licks and you squirmed on the bed.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. You were near crying. He teased you without mercy. He brought you to the brink of cumming over and over, only to retreat and play with something else until your ass was back on the bed.

A giant wet spot spread under your ass as you gushed arousal. He placed open mouth kisses on your clit, dragging his lips through either side of it. “Fuck, please. Please Tyrone,” you murmured.

“Please what?” He asked and lazily circled your clit again.

You bit your lip. You didn’t know what you were begging for. Begging to cum? Begging for him to do something else? Begging just to beg?

“Let me hear what you want from me.” He nosed through your slick and you bucked. “Let me hear that sexy, squeaky ass voice,” he said.

You laughed. It was more like a few puffs of air. Sweat gathered everywhere. You should feel gross. Instead, you finally felt…desired. He wasn’t down there, eating you out as a prerequisite for having sex. He was down there because he wanted to be.

He suckled sharply on your clit and you hissed. “I ain’t gonna keep tellin’ yo ass to stay with me. Get out of your head for once,” he said.

You grinned at him. “Yes, sir.”

He moaned and licked at your clit. “Say that shit again, I like that,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

He grinned around your pussy. Your slick dripped down his chin. His entire face was wet with your juices and it only turned you on. He moaned as he felt your pussy clench. He was bringing you to the edge again. You couldn’t stand it.

Your body was overheated. Your hands clutched at his sheets desperately. You licked your lips. “Please…I need to cum,” you said.

“You think you deserve to cum?” He asked. “Ain’t I already give you one?” He continued to lap at your slick and you twitched and jerked with the painful need to cum. Your belly was too tight.

“Please, please, please,” you said. You threw your head back and forth. You needed something, soon. If you were denied one more time…

“Please, Tyrone. Don’t…I need to cum, please,” you babbled. You were saying anything at this point. You may have offered him your first born or a lifetime of blow jobs. You weren’t sure. But his deep, rumbling laugh skated over your sensitive skin. He rarely laughed. Each time he did, you cataloged it for later. When you were indulging in a delusion that involved him and this exact scenario.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said. If you thought he was serious before, it was nothing compared to how he attacked your clit. Like a starving man who’d just been offered a king’s feast. He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue. Playing with the swollen nub until you were stuttering and hollering.

Tears of relief finally leaked out as you came with a high wail. You felt like you were inside out and upside down. You entered a sixth dimension somewhere. There was only pleasure. Unwavering, unbridled pleasure that swept over you in waves higher than the ocean. You were lost and unmoored. Head empty.

You panted as you drifted back into your body. Somewhere between all of that, Tyrone had cleaned off his face and his briefs were gone. He looked down at you and stroked himself as he watched you.

You struggled to your elbows as cold air hit the giant wet spot beneath you. It was lurid, the way you sat in a puddle like that. A puddle of your own making. You didn’t know you were capable of being that wet.

You wiped sweat from your skin. You needed what he held in his hands. You sat up, your eyes focused on his dick. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted to suck him off. To bring him to the brink of oblivion like he just did for you.

He chuckled as you reached for him. He stood close and you took him into your mouth. “Fuck,” he said. He threw his head back and jerked his hips forward.

You went to work, bobbing up and down on his dick. He barely fit. You sucked and slobbered all over him, sucking him in as far as he could go. You used your hands to get to the rest of him, twisting your hands and letting your slobber drip down his dick to make your hands glide better.

“Goddamn, suck that shit. Show me you want this dick,” he encouraged. Sighs and moans escaped his mouth as you pleased him. He encouraged you to go faster and faster until his hips were jerking. He grabbed your head and slammed you further onto his dick. He fucked your face until you were gagging on him. The sound only spurned him on, to keep going and fucking your mouth.

“Better swallow this shit,” he said. He let loose, cumming with a loud groan. You lied earlier. You wanted to take a picture of him like this. With his eyes closed and his jaw slack. His face scrunched between pleasure and pain.

His hot load squirted down your throat. You gulped the salty taste of him down. Every last drop. He cursed as he emptied the last of it. He slipped out of your mouth and ran his fingers down your lips. You licked your lips and suckled his thumb into your mouth.

He gripped your chin and moved your head from side to side. You blinked slowly at him. “You been hidin’ this mouth from me too,” he said. You shook your head with his thumb in your mouth.

“That’s a’ight. I’ma fuck that shit again. Lay back on the bed,” he said.

All hints of shyness were gone. You let go of his thumb with a wet pop and scooted further up the bed. This was Tyrone. Your best friend. There was nothing to be shy about. He loved your body. Truly loved it. And by extension, you learned to love it through his eyes.

He followed you onto the bed, his knees sliding between your legs and pushing until you were completely spread before him. He placed his hands on either side of you, the bed dipping under his strength.

He leaned on one hand and lined himself up. There was something in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t think what it was. The thought eluded you as he slowly worked his way in.

His eyes closed and his mouth twisted as he moaned on his way in. He stretched you out, impossibly big. You tensed a bit. You weren’t used to someone quite this big. He noticed and started to kiss you.

He still faintly smelled like you. It was so hot, tasting yourself on his lips that you moaned and clenched around his dick. He groaned and pushed in more as you relaxed. The hand that was around his dick started to rub on your clit and you whimpered and cried.

You were still so overwhelmed by your last orgasm that you twitched every time he rubbed your clit.

“Look at you. Can’t even say shit, can you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Feels too good. Too fuckin’ good,” you said.

“Yeah? It’s too much for you?” He pushed in further and your jaw dropped on a soundless scream.

“Goddamn it, Tyrone!” You slapped at his chest but that only made him chuckle. He grabbed the hand you slapped him with and held it to the bed. He trapped your hand there as he really started to move.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” you groaned. Your other hand pushed at him. Your nails dug into his chest leaving half moon imprints on his pec.

He increased his pace as he dropped all of his weight on you. His strokes were deeper until you were sure that the tip of his dick was hitting your cervix. “Oh shit, oh fuck,” you said.

“Yeah, talkin’ all that shit. This is what good dick feel like,” he said in your ear. He leaned up, pushing your legs to the bed so that you were neatly folded in half. At this new angle, it was like he unlocked a deeper level inside of you. You felt every inch of his dick.

“No…condom…” you breathed out.

“Shit,” he said. His eyes widened but he didn’t stop. “Feel too fuckin’ good to stop. Pussy so fuckin’ tight and wet for me,” he continued.

You clenched around him. On every stroke, he wrangled more and more incoherent sounds from you. You didn’t know what the hell you were on about. You wanted to be mad that he was hittin’ it raw. But he felt too fucking good. Too fucking right. He belonged there in between your legs. It was a silly idea, but it was true. He was made for you. You had no claim to him. You didn’t know what any of this meant, if it even meant anything.

So you held on. You scratched at his back wanting to leave some kind of memory behind. Some kind of mark to show that you were there. That you meant something to him.

“You take me so fuckin’ well. Shit. Good fuckin’ girl,” he said.

You whined. It was the words you needed. You exploded into a million shards of star dust beneath him. Light blinded you as your orgasm whipped through you once more. Your legs squeezed him and he came with you. He grunted and painted your insides with his cum. He kept stroking as if he was trying to fuck his cum in deeper. Wanting to claim you the same way you wanted to with your nails.

He dropped onto you, one big sweaty mess. You clung to him, not ready for him to leave just yet. You were still settling down and it felt like you were still fractured. Holding on to him was holding your body together at the moment.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and he lifted his head. He kissed you once and then twice, lingering. He leaned back and grinned while he panted. Completely spent.

He caressed your check. It was an unexpected show of gentleness that you didn’t think he was capable of. Don’t get it twisted. Tyrone was dangerous. But in the moment, he was just your best friend.

He looked at you as if really seeing you for the first time ever. “Stay with me,” he said.

You grinned and nodded. Yeah, you’ll stay with him.

&&&

Did you like this? Need more in your life? Check out the other Tyrone fics here: Masterlist

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #Tyrone x Shy!reader #Tyrone x Shy reader #Tyrone x reader #Tyrone x you #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction #They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction

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bratzforchris · 3 months

Note

Hi! I hope this isn't too weird, but I was wondering if you could write a fic where Matt is autistic? I see myself a lot in him and the podcast episode where they kept calling him "Miserable Matt" made me think about myself a lot. So maybe a fluffy hurt/comfort fic where he just gets tired of it because it's something he can't help and reader helps him through it with his special interests? It's okay if not! Thank you 💞

My Person, M. Sturniolo

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Summary: In which the best cure for everything is cuddles and special interests<3

Pairing: Matt x gender neutral reader

Warnings: Mentions of autistic meltdown, going nonverbal, Nick and Chris lowkey suck here 😭

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Thank you for the request! Please remember that my writing is fictional--I am not saying or assuming that Matt is autistic and I definitely don't think Nick and Chris would act this way in real life. It's just a story :) Now, please enjoy 💚

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“Miserable Matt” this and “Miserable Matt” that. It was almost sickening the way he was constantly the target of Nick and Chris’s jokes. Deep down, Matt knew his brothers didn’t really mean any harm, but that didn’t make his feelings any less hurt. He never purposely tried to be sad or depressing when they were filming, it was just kind of the way his natural personality was.

Being autistic, his voice tended to have a flatter affect than most people’s. Even when he was filled with autistic joy, his voice rarely got louder or higher. Usually, his brothers were quite understanding of his disability, always standing up for Matt and making sure he was treated fairly, but then there were days like today, where they were filming an episode for Cut the Camera, and Nick and Chris just couldn’t stop the jokes from rolling off their tongues.

“I dunno,” Matt said quietly, but with a smile, fidgeting with his hands. “I just like to be alone sometimes. It gives me the creative freedom that I don’t always get from other people, y’know?”

“Oh here we go again,” Chris snorted. “Miserable Matt back at again with his depression poetry.”

“That’s not poetry.” Matt grumbled, trying to hide the hurt in his voice.

The triplets were currently discussing where they got their video ideas from, and how they stayed motivated to make content, even when they didn’t feel like it. Of course Chris and Nick had ‘normal people’ answers, like going out with friends or going on vacation. But being autistic, Matt didn’t recharge that way. He preferred to be alone to gather his thoughts and reset his mind. So of course, that was made fun of.

-`ღ´-

“So, what do you guys think about the edits people make of you?” Nick asked. “Love or hate them?”

“It depends,” Chris shrugged. “Some of them make me think ‘Damn, I’m fine’, but others are kinda…weird. No offense, guys!” he threw his hands up quickly, smiling at the camera.

“I like them. I think it’s sweet that someone takes time out of their day to edit me.” Matt smiled.

“Yeah,” Nick groaned. “Cause yours are all sad and depressing and ‘poor baby Matt’ while a song from folklore plays in the background.”

“That is so not true.” Matt protested.

“‘Poor Matt and his autism’ while some sad song plays in the background. You like it because it validates you.” Chris chuckled.

“That’s not true!” Matt was starting to get teary eyed, but he couldn’t help it; he was sensitive. “Some of them are nice.”

“Miserable Matt’s gotta watch sad edits of himself to fulfill his aesthetic.” Nick laughed.

All was silent for a moment, until Matt finally spoke, looking at his brothers with watery eyes. “Why are you guys so mean to me?”

“Matt, come on. We’re joking.” Chris rolled his eyes.

“But it’s not a joke,” Matt whispered, avoiding their eyes. “You guys use me as the butt of the joke all the time. ‘Matt’s too quiet’, ‘Miserable Matt’, ‘Matt and his anxiety’. It’s annoying, okay?”

“It’s just a joke, Matt,” Nick tried to explain calmly. “We don’t mean any harm.”

“Do you? Because last time I checked, making fun of someone’s disability or mental health problems is harm.”

“Don’t be like that, bro.” Chris tried to put a comforting, ‘olive branch’ hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“No,” Matt stood up, throwing his headphones off. “I’m done. Finish recording without me.”

The boy quickly exited the room, leaving a stunned Nick and Chris in his wake. Matt didn’t usually lose his cool like that when he knew the camera was rolling, but he hadn’t been sleeping well lately and the last thing he wanted was a recording of him bordering on a meltdown. Even if it could be edited out, he really didn’t want that immortalized forever. They were embarrassing enough as it was.

Matt retreated to his room, anxiously playing with the tangle that he kept in the pocket of his hoodie for when he needed a fidget toy. The calm, woodsy aesthetic of his bedroom relaxed him somewhat as he stepped inside his safe haven. It wasn’t enough, though. He needed someone who got it, who knew it was like to feel different. And so, he pulled out his phone, quickly texting you.

Matt: babe, can we go to the park?

You looked up from your book when Matt’s text came through. As an autistic couple, you had set up a ‘code word’ for when either one of you felt like they were on the verge of having an autistic meltdown, and that was Matt’s. You quickly gathered your things, speeding over to the triplets house as Matt sent you a flurry of texts, somewhat describing what had happened.

When you let yourself in with the key they had given you, Nick and Chris looked up, surprised by your entrance. “Where’s Matt?” You asked.

“In his room.” Chris mumbled, not looking up from his phone.

You didn’t have the energy, nor were you in the mood to deal with the boys right now, so you quickly pushed past them, hurrying up the stairs. “Can I come in, sweetie?” You asked when you reached Matt’s door, knocking softly.

You were quite worried about the silence until your phone pinged with a text of mhm from Matt. You realized that meant that he was probably nonverbal at the moment, and you hastily let yourself into the dark room. Matt had drawn the curtains, turning on one small lamp with a soft, orange glow. Your boyfriend was huddled up under his weighted blanket, headphones on and softly stroking Mr. Wrinkleton’s fur. You let out a breath when you noticed that he seemed much more relaxed than when he had first texted you, but that didn’t stop you from missing the tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Hi sweet boy.” You spelled into his palm as you softly set down on the bed beside him.

Matt grabbed his communication cards off the nightstand, riffling through them for a moment, before he showed you the one that said ‘Can I have a hug?’. Without another word, you pulled your boyfriend into a deep pressure hug, knowing they were his favorites. They made his body feel perfectly aligned and usually helped calm him after a meltdown. After a moment, Matt pulled out of your grip, slipping his headphones off.

“We don’t have to talk about it, hun. We’ll work it out with Nick and Chris later, okay? You just relax, baby,” You said gently. “Are you hungry, hun?”

Matt shook his head, grabbing your palm and spelling out ‘I just want you’ in your palm since he didn’t have a card for that. You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. This was one of your favorite parts about being a neurodivergent couple. You just got each other in a way that other people didn’t. You could sit in companionable silence and never feel awkward or bored. In your embrace of him, you noticed that Matt had slid a card towards you that read ‘Can we watch nature videos?’.

One of Matt’s special interests and overall favorite things, was nature, but especially the forest and woodland animals. He could watch the soothing videos of the forest in its natural state for hours and not get bored, which had led you two to make a special card just for that when you were making his communication cards together. Your boy smiled as you stood up, grabbing the remote for his TV, before flicking it to one of Matt’s favorite, ten-hour-long videos of the forest and its animals on YouTube.

“I love you, babe.” You told him as you both got comfortable under his large weighted blanket.

‘I love you!!!!!’ Matt explained, showing you a card.

The extra exclamation points had been at his insistence. He insisted that he loved you more than anyone else and needed you to know that. You couldn’t lie when you said that that had made you smile. You were each other’s first significant other, and Matt made you feel so completely special. Even now, as you laid here together, not speaking but cuddling as you watched videos of chipmunks and deer, you knew that Matt was your person.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @oobleoob @mattsfavwh3re @melguilbert @idek3000hi @faygo-frog @mayhem-72

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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coolprettyleo · 1 month

Text

my soul has changed? - will smith au

wc: 1.4k

tw: depression, suggestion of an ED, awkwardness? mean girl.

will smith x oc celebrini sister!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

lola celebrini was in a point of her life where everything felt still. she was pretty sure she was suffering from depression and it was a cycle she didn't know how to get out of.

she would wake up, go to school, go to work, and then sleep. she was lucky if she fitted a meal in between that meant she had lost tons of weight.

she had been a pretty healthy teen, she played hockey up until high school alongside her brothers; but when the time came to play college hockey, she got no offers. contributing to her depression.

it was a sport she held so much love and dedication, she couldn't understand why she hadn't been good enough? I mean her brothers were good enough, they got college offers. macklin was even projected to go first overall, so why couldn't she?

those were thoughts that were constantly haunting her mind. if she found something to forget them they would flood back in, like if they wanted her to be a lifeless doll she had been feeling like.

her family had been really worried for her. she had finally seen her brothers after a year, at the NCCAA playoffs and it only caused them to worry more.

flashbacks

lola knew that macklin and aiden were gonna bombard her with questions as soon as they were alone. they could hardly recognize her. growing up she was always a smiling person with a big personality and now she was about forty pounds lighter and was a ghost of the person she used to be.

"april what's going on" macklin said shutting the door behind him.

"what do you mean"

"cut the bullshit. I know your not okay, you barley answer my text anymore, what's wrong"

"it's nothing mack-"

"no it's not nothing, maybe I can fix it-

"you cant 'fix' it"

"and why not-"

"because I don't know what wrong with me!"

that had been about two weeks ago. she just didn't know what to tell her family. she really didn't understand why she had been feeling that way.

she was currently at work where she was a barista in a cute coffee shop. she honestly loved working there, she had got the job when she was in high school and had kept it till college. seeing as she didn’t move far away for college, choosing to stay close to her parents.

she often wondered if she might be happier if she moved away just like everyone else did, just like her brothers did. but it would always end in her telling herself; that it's not worth dwelling on.

it was currently six am and at this time of day there weren’t many customers. the cafe was always busy mid day when people were looking to find somewhere to study.

so she was surprised when she turned the open side around, to find a boy waiting outside to come in. a boy who looked a lot like will smith.

lola wasn’t an idiot to hockey, she kept up with it a fairly good amount, so she would have to be living under a rock to not know the guy who dominated the ice at her brothers rivalry school.

that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act like she didn’t know him.

he reached for the handle and took a look at her before turning as red as a tomato and blushing,

“hey, are you guys open?” he asked nervously, mentally slapping himself because he just saw her turn the sign around, to ‘open’

“uhm yeah I’ll be with you in a sec” she told him.

will couldn’t help but think her voice was cute. she had a rasp to it that made him want to give her everything she’s ever wanted.

lola finished up, putting the coffee too brew and turned to the counter.

“okay! order when your ready”

“uhm. i actually never been here before… any recs?” he asked after a moment nervously scratching his neck.

“well I get a dirty chai, but considering my brothers hate it, you might hate it too… I guess you might like a frap?” she told him, a little too monotone.

“yeah okay” he told her again nervously. he found her to be breathtakingly beautiful.

he paid and stood back as she got to making the drink.

“you from here?” will asked hoping to make small talk.

“uhm kinda. I was born in Vancouver but moved here when my dad got a job”

will panicked. oh god was she still in highschool

lola must of saw the worry on his face because she added,

“that was a couple years ago, im eighteen now” she said smiling at his face. something she didn’t do often anymore.

“oh, i’m eighteen too”

“oh yeah, what brings you to san jose, school?” she said innocently knowing very well he was drafted here and was most likely here to work on development.

“no. I”m came to meet with some people here. I go to boston college” he answered. lola starting to not feel so bad because she saw he didn’t want to right away say he was a hockey player.

“far from home huh”

“yeah, i’m literally across the country from everything and everybody i’ve ever known” he told her wanting to slap himself. did she need to know that!?!

“i’m sorry. it’ll get easier” she said remembering her brother had been homesick too but utimatly started feeling better after some time-- as she handing him his drinks and gave him a sympathetic face.

“yeah i hope so, i should be moving here soon, if everything goes right” he said as he took a sip.

“hey this is good!” he said taking another sip as lola smiled. something that will thought looked amazing on her.

lola smiled at him remembering the fact her brothers liked that drink. boys were so typical

“i’m glad… and hey— if you ever need a friend in town my names lola” she told him as she held her hand out to him to shake.

will starred at it for a moment before he quickly met her hand.

“will” he told the girl with a smile.

they were cut out of there moment when two customers walked in.

“I should get back to work. i’ll see you around will” she told him as he smiled a nodded and walked right out.

say something! ask for my number! do anything!

lola felt really dumb after she basically just presented herself in a silver platter to the boy and he didn’t finish his part in asking for her number. he had definitely rejected her in the nicest way someone possibly could.

meanwhile will got into the Uber with a gitty feeling. she seemed really cool and having someone to hang out with other than his teammates was going to be so nice.

he was midway into the meeting with some general managers when he realized he didn’t even ask for her number.

“oh my god” he mumbled as he came to the realization

"i'm sorry?" one of the GM's said confused.

“uhh— I said I was excited to join the franchise!” he covered up, feeling like an idiot.

hopefully she was still there after the meeting.

the meeting had gone a little to long for his liking and as he raced down to the coffee shop he hoped she was working a long shift.

he opened the door to see a blonde girl who looked old but yet looked young, and a taller boy with curly hair working behind the counter.

“hi. is lola working today?” he said breathlessly

the blonde eyed him for a moment before smirking,

“I don't recall a lola ever working here...my name samantha though” she said with a face that will knew was a face of someone who was lying.

“yes there is, she helped me earlier-"

“if your here to file a complaint against her, I can totally help you then,” she said

“no she was great— wait, you said you didn’t know an lola-“

“your looking for lola?” the other barista cut in

“yeah she was here earlier, i was hoping she was still here”

“she got off like two hours ago but i can give you her number!” the curly haired boy told will. he was one of lola's friends and he wasn’t going to ruin this opportunity for her.

“you totally can’t do that!” the blonde girl said in a nasally voice.

“shutup samantha. go take candy from a baby or something” he sassily told her.

she rolled her eyes before walking away to wipe a table down.

“sorry about her, here’s her number— good luck!”

“thankyou so much” he told him as he thought about what exactly to text the pretty girl.

both lola and will not knowing the epic love story they were about embark on.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

hi guys! i hope this is kinda good, dont feel shy to send in ask and au thoughts… i like never get any but im so open to it!!

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fic #will smith hockey #bc hockey #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #will smith hockey x reader #jacob fowler #bc eagles #will smith hockey x oc #will smith hockey imagine #gabe perreault x reader #nhl #hockey imagine #lola x will

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bloodandtime · 1 year

Text

roommate!eddie pt 2

okay, finally posting part two to this. thanks for your patience on this!! been depressed busy lol also once again if this is bad i simply don’t want to know

cw: 18+ mdni, noncon voyuerism again (it’s still wanted, just not explicitly stated), (m&f) masturbation, wet dreams, accidental boners, eddie’s exasperated, drug usage briefly mentioned (it’s just weed), fem!reader, chubby/plus size reader implied!! um i fink that’s it. let me know if i missed anything. oh this is all in lowercase cause i suck lol this is also not really edited so godspeed to you all

nothing drastically changed after the first incident. eddie had been more skittish than usual, which is saying something as he is a jumpy little thing to begin with.

he felt guilty for getting off to you getting off and he couldn’t very well tell you that, (well he could, but he doesn’t know he could). eddie could barely look you in the eye the first few days after, avoiding you at every turn. you thought he actually might implode when you ran into him in only a towel.

he was out when you got in the shower so you didn’t bother with clothes. while there had been no ulterior motives that time, that’s not to say you didn’t start to tease eddie.

you’d been holding off on jumping his bones because you had wanted to be sure he wanted you. sure, you’d heard him get off at the same time as you but maybe it was a coincidence.

so when he finally started acting normal about two weeks later you decided to test the waters.

you started off small. wearing a big shirt and no pants one evening.

“everything okay?” you asked while floating around the kitchen, making dinner. eddie was frozen in the doorway, just getting home from work.

you avoid his gaze, butterflies swarming in your stomach, heat in your cheeks. you know you’re right, you know he wants you but that doesn’t fix your insecurities.

while moving back to the stove you catch eddie shaking his head, as if to wake himself up. his voice soon follows, albeit strained.

“yeah, sweetheart. i’m good.” eddie, was in fact, not good, “whatever you’re making smells great, i’ll be right back.”

he zooms away so fast you’re surprised you don’t see a smoke outline of him in his wake.

well, that was either a really great reaction or a terrible one continuing on with dinner, you don’t see eddie again the rest of the night.

(he’s jerking off, but you don’t know that)

a couple days pass and he hears you get off again. he hasn’t heard you since that first night. He doesn’t know if you haven’t gotten off at all (unlikely) or if maybe it was just a one off thing that he heard you. maybe you usually wait till he’s not home, but he hears you tonight and you’re not exactly quiet about it.

he’s in bed, sat up against your shared wall, hand palming his cock through his boxers as he listens. through the wall you’re moaning so loud your voice rings crystal clear in his ears. he thinks about what you look like when you’re cumming, a sheen to your skin, chest heaving, a slick mess at the apex of your thighs.

he imagines his cum dripping down your thighs and groans. that image of you is all the motivation he needs to shove his boxers down his thighs and start jerking off. he’s not kind about it, trying to get off at the same time as you. spitting into his hand, he starts a brutal pace, his other hand reaching down to massage his balls.

as he jerks his cock, he thinks about you on top, the way you’d look holding down his wrists, using him as leverage to grind into him. your tits in his face, the feel of your tummy pressing into him as you lean down to kiss him. he whimpers, feeling himself teetering on the edge.

a high pitched whine reaches his ears from your room and that’s all he needs to fall over, cumming all over his hands and stomach, he works himself through it until he’s whimpering. what he doesn’t know is that you’ve heard him again too. leaning against your shared wall listening to him work his cock.

you both sit there, in your respective rooms, out of breath and yearning for one another.

days pass and eddie’s not as openly weird about it this time. he is able to look you in the eye and hold a conversation, which you think means some sort of weird progress.

it’s finally your day off, and all you have planned to do is absolutely nothing. binging whatever show and lounging on the couch.

to be fair, eddie wasn’t home again so you weren’t originally trying to tempt him, but you did improvise. he comes home to find you asleep on the couch and he thinks he may just actually die.

you’re passed out on your stomach, one leg hitched up, face squished against the pillow while snoring softly. you’re only wearing a shirt and panties. your shirt rests above the curve of your ass, the soft cotton of your panties on display.

he comically bites his fist to avoid groaning as he makes his way over to you quiet as eddie can be, to try and rouse you kindly.

eddie crouches down, knees to chest, his fingertips a breath away from your shoulder when you moan.

he’s immediately frozen again.

this cannot be happening, you cannot be having a wet dream.

your hips start to move as you let out a breathy sigh, grinding down trying to find friction.

eddie leans his head to his knees and softly sighs, trying so hard to move himself away. leave the room and do the right thing and go.

but he can’t, not when you look like this, not when you sound like this. so pretty and soft and sweet. so he lifts his head, watches and listens.

his eyes rake up your body. your doughy thighs on display, and if he moves leans his head just so he sees the bump of your cunt. a gasp escapes him.

you’re soaked, folds stuck to the fabric. he stares too long, burning the image in his mind. forcing his eyes away, he follows the curves of your body, takes in every inch of flesh exposed by your rucked up shirt. when his gaze follows the slope of your shoulder to your face he inhales sharply.

your eyes are open, you’ve been watching him watch you.

“eddie,” teasing, voice sticky with sleep “what are you doing?”

he looks down, avoiding your gaze, brain racing to find an excuse. he doesn’t think sorry! was watching you have a wet dream will cut it.

“was just coming over here to wake you up, cause i didn’t want your neck to hurt after sleeping on the couch.” he says all in one breath, nails tapping a rhythm onto the coffee table absentmindedly. his eyes bounce around the room, avoiding.

you roll over and sit up, legs stretching out in front of you. eddie sits on the ground, between the couch and the coffee table where he still taps a rhythm, facing you.

“that’s sweet eddie, thank you.” you say, genuinely, smiling. he is kind, even though he’s telling a half truth.

his eyes flicker back to you at your thanks, the rhythm stops. he follows the curves of your form to your face, once again.

stopping at your thighs squeezing together, to where your belly peaks out from your shirt, soft and plush, to where your tits rest naturally because eddie can’t catch a fucking break.

“so, how was work?” you ask. closing your eyes as you lay back down and stretch out, you softly moan. eddie feels his cock jump, he makes himself turn away.

“oh you know,” he’s can’t look at you, he’s breathless, “same shit, different day.”

you open your eyes and nudge his shoulder with your knee, his band tee soft against your skin.

“oh come on, eddie” you tease, “i know you have more to say than that.”

he can’t help but laugh, meeting your gaze he flushes.

“i get it. i talk too much.” sighing dramatically as if you’ve fatally wounded him, “i’m sooooo sorry,” he’s all sarcasm.

as he’s talking you lean up, scooting so you’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch. you let your right leg fall to the floor, your clothed cunt now in eddie’s direct line of sight. he stares, not breathing.

you nudge him with your foot, playing dumb.”really? nothing else? no shitty customers? nothing about your annoying coworkers?”

eddie scrambles to his feet, hands in front of his crotch, red in the face. “oh that reminds me! i offered to let my coworker borrow a book,” eddie stumbles as he walks backwards to the hall, squawking, he continues, “he closes tonight so i’ll just swing by now.”

he’s speaking louder now, almost to his room. “i might actually stop by the store too!” there’s shuffling, a loud crash and several fucks! sworn by the time he finally comes back into the living room, book in tow.

you’ve now pulled a blanket over you, dejected. turning your show back on, you wait for eddie to leave before you move to hide in your room.

he doesn’t notice the anxious look on your face, so focused on getting out of there before i burst in my pants!

eddie flies to the door, and tells you to text him if you need anything while he’s out. the door’s not even shut by the time you’re off of the couch, sulking back to your room.

eddie sits in his (newer) van to calm down before he leaves, unable to get the image of you out of his head. crushing on his new roommate was not in his plans.

he’s definitely convinced you’re flirting with him though so it’s not one sided, he hopes. he wonders if he should test the waters, see if you actually want him.

what if you didn’t know your pussy was right in his face? he knows how ridiculous that sounds.

he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, been the butt of a prank too many times that he catches himself mistrusing his intuition.

although he’s grown, he can’t always shake his insecurities, but he wants to put himself out there. for you. his mind continues to race as he drives back to work.

you, on the other hand, were wallowing in bed. you felt like you were being pretty forward. your pussy was in his face for christ’s sake! while the rejection hurts, you’re worried. maybe you came on too strong? he seems interested in you, he certainly couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

smoking a joint and taking a bath to relax, you plot your next big move. deciding that if he doesn’t make a move this time. you’ll drop it.

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hellfire--cult · 4 months

Text

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️This chapter contains: Angst, fear of loneliness, family desires, mentions of nausea, slight insinuation of depression

wc: 7.3k

A/N: Sorry for taking so long! We're slowly arriving to the tension bbies.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

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CHAPTER 14

It’s been… excruciating.

The past two weeks you spent them locked up and you have asked to work remotely at home. Your boss of course insisted that you need the time off, that she completely understood your position, and your emotions always come first.

You told her about Billy.

You told her how Billy was not in favor of Same-sex marriage, and adoption. He wasn’t in favor of Betas being able to be single parents either. If that information were to get out, the company would be targeted as unethical, and that’s not at all Liana’s principles. The company is completely in favor of the people’s wants and needs.

You really didn’t want to rat Billy out, because this meant that his opportunities would be lost, and it wasn’t done so you could spite him for his personal views. You just couldn’t keep working with someone who is against what your friends want, what your friends ambition to have. Jonathan and Steve want children of their own, and if the laws don’t let that happen, they will never have the family they strive for.

So Liana immediately called Ralph to look for another publishing company.

At first, he was crazed, yelling at her through the phone until she finally told him she knew about Billy’s facade about the same-sex marriage riots. Ralph was silent on the other end of the phone, and in three days, the contract was done with, and the company had nothing to do anymore with Billy Hargrove.

Now you, it’s a different story. You’ve been miserable. You could feel him everywhere, remembering him on your bed, laughing with each other, smiling like idiots as you told stories about one another’s lives. How he would cook for you and sometimes spoil you with gifts even if you told him you didn’t need any of it.

You wished you hadn’t noticed certain things that didn’t sit right with you. How he acted with your friends at first, how he would scrunch up his nose when you told him things you liked and he didn’t. How jealous you found out he was when he met Eddie. How you fought sometimes for very stupid things, like him not looking after his mess, or not caring about your thoughts about his friends and still dragging you to hang out with them.

So you stayed in. You couldn’t even go to work because you couldn’t look at that stupid closet for a good while. The closet that started it all. You know you have to move on from this, but it’s not easy, not after what you’ve been through before. It’s hard enough to trust someone into your life that way, imagine being vulnerable and let yourself fall in love with them.

You’re glad those feelings didn’t reach Billy. The bomb exploded, a little anticipated thankfully.

You have also neglected the group, telling them you needed time to cool off, to let it all sink before trying to go to their house, or them coming over because you just wouldn’t be yourself, and you would put the whole group down with your mood. The last thing you want and need is to also feel like a nuisance with your friends.

So, better keep it to yourself. You will get through with it alone, like you always have, with everything. There’s no need to bother others with this, not with the mood you have been handling for the past few days. You didn’t talk with anyone, Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan… No one, not even a tik tok or meme.

It was food, work, sleep, repeat. A shower here and there, and you knew it was wrong but it’s just your head playing a bad pass on you. You had been afraid of falling again, of it going wrong, but you thought it might be different, you really thought it would– Only for it to come crashing down as fast as it started.

How can you even begin to think that there is a chance everything will be fine later on? Will you ever find a destined one? If there is any at all? And with the laws, as they still are, your dream of a family is just–

Your phone rang, taking your mind away from your thoughts. You didn’t notice you were staring blankly at the TV screen. You didn’t even know what was on, nor you didn’t care. You grabbed your phone to see Robin calling you, making you sigh. You slid the answer button on the touchscreen and put the phone in your ear.

“Robs–”

“I’m not getting a no for an answer. Get ready, get dressed, we’re arriving in twenty.” You straightened up in alarm, eyes widening in surprise.

“What the fuck are you talking about, who is coming?” You were angry now because you didn’t agree to anything, you weren’t even asked to hang out, much less come to your house.

“Steve, Eddie, and I. The rest had to do stuff, so we are heading over.” Your breathing caught in your throat as you looked around your spotless house. You needed to keep your mind occupied so you cleaned every surface possible. Still, you never agreed–

“N–”

“I said I wasn’t taking a no for an answer.” And just like that, the line clicked. You groaned loudly in anger as you paced around the living room, tossing the phone towards your couch. You love Robin. You love Robin. You love Robin.

But fuck, you wanted to kill her right now.

And bringing Steve and Eddie along? For fuck sake. You looked down at your clothes and then at your room. You could easily not open the door for them. You can easily drive them off like that because they wouldn’t stay outside more than five minutes if you don’t answer. Yeah, you can definitely do that…

“Ugh!” You grunted into the nothingness as you rushed into your room to throw on the first things that were decent. A pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved turtleneck will do. You combed your hair as best as you could, throwing on some mascara and eyeliner to not look like a corpse. You looked into the mirror and you winced as you barely recognized yourself.

You definitely looked as if a truck ran over you. The bags under your eyes, the tired overall look on your face. You sighed as you scanned your face with your hands and then you looked at your hands. They looked dehydrated, and your nails needed some caring that’s for sure.

Did you really not take care of yourself the past two weeks?

You didn’t even notice how dejected you looked. You didn’t even care of looking into a mirror, and now that you do you barely recognize who the woman is in the reflection. Fuck did this hit you bad… You grabbed your concealer and tapped a bit under your eyes, trying to conceal the purple hues under them, wincing when it didn’t do much.

Did you even have food for them? Drinks? Shit… Should you order some pizza? You rushed out towards your kitchen and opened your fridge to see there were two beers, some soda, water… Okay, not much but there are beverages. You closed the fridge to look into your cupboards, wincing when no snacks could be found.

You groaned as you leaned against the sink. It’s not your fault, is it? You weren’t expecting them, so it’s not your issue if there are no snacks or things to satisfy their hunger. Yeah, it’s not. You never said yes. You let out a sigh out of your lips as you talked out loud.

“Alexa. Play whatever 80’s playlist there is.”

And the sound of Michael Bolton’s ‘How Am I supposed to live without you?’ came on. You cursed at the sky and you really thought you were cursed. You rushed to your phone to see how long it’s been since Robin called you. Fifteen minutes, shit, they are–

And the doorbell rang.

Five minutes early.

You groaned with a sigh, taking a deep breath in as you looked at the front door. Were you ready to face your friends? Were you ready for them to see you like this? They have all messaged you in order to talk to them, to hang out, to even try to do a video call with them, but you always declined.

Even Eddie tried. He sent you a bunch of memes in order to try to cheer you up, but you never opened them. You just didn’t feel like laughing at all. He had messaged you as well, telling you that he would go to your apartment without your invitation, but he never dared to do so. It seems all of them got tired of you pushing them away.

You walked towards the door and took a deep breath in as you unlocked the door, slowly opening it to reveal your three friends with a bunch of snacks, sweet and salty, and drinks in their hands. They stopped whispering to one another and turned to look at you and you noticed how Robin’s eyebrows twitched as you crossed your arms over your chest, a glare in your eyes. They were silent as you glared at the group for simply crashing without your consent until–

“You look like shit.”

Your eyes snapped towards Eddie and he had a cheeky smile on his face. You flipped him off as you walked backward to let them in. You heard a giggle coming from Robin and then their steps coming inside your apartment.

Steve closed the door behind him and headed to the fridge to put the beers inside, already taking four out. Robin put the snacks on the counters looking around to see your house completely spotless and she sighed. She knew that whenever you were anxious or nervous you cleaned in order to keep yourself distracted.

Eddie though, Eddie was looking all around. It was the first time he came to your apartment, and it was very spacious, but his was even more. You didn’t notice when you came by to his workplace, but he lives above the shop. You enter his home through stairs that are on the back, going up towards the second floor. His was more of a loft-looking apartment, those that have brick walls and industrial stuff.

Your house was more modern-like, a little minimalistic but with plants all around. You were very fond of succulents since there are a bunch at the top of your fridge. His eyes then went towards your bookshelf, walking towards it to start inspecting your books.

“So, what are you doing here?” Your voice was angry, yet there was a certain feeling, emotion, that told them you didn’t dislike their intrusion. Robin shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, Steve coming to stand next to her with the same stance.

“You expect us to just wait for you to talk to us? That can happen in a fucking month, and we are not gonna wait that long.” At those words, you couldn’t help but be mad.

“People need their own healing time, and you are invading it.” Your voice was cold, imperative even, and Steve’s head snapped towards Robin worriedly. Your best friend stood her ground as she stared at you, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t invade it if you at least talked to us. I wouldn’t invade it if you at least came to work instead of working remotely, which by the way, fuck you for making me interact with other people!”

You wanted to laugh at your best friend’s exaggeration, but you had to focus on the fact you were angry at the invasion. You rolled your eyes at her and you walked to rest your hip against the headrest of your couch.

“You are still invading it without my conse–”

“Holy shit, you have Fifty Shades of Grey.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to the dark-haired metalhead that was still holding onto the bag of candies in his hand as he inspected your bookshelf. You raised your eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he was going on about.

“So?” You asked him and he turned to look at you, holding the first book in his hand.

“Seriously? There is better erotica out there sweetheart.” You felt heat on your cheeks at the comment, it’s not like it was your go-to in the book genre… But the bookshelf is indeed filled with smut–

“Hang on, does Eddie Munson read Erotica?” You said mockingly and you heard Steve let out a snort of his, covering his mouth with his hand. Eddie turned to put the book back and a smirk was plastered on his face as he looked at you once more.

“Knowledge is in any form sweetheart.” More heat, that’s for sure. You felt it all over your fingertips even, and you shrugged it off with a roll of your shoulders. He turned to go over to the counter to finally place the candies there. He took a beer from the four that Steve had previously taken out and opened it.

“Look, I know you don’t want us here, but we really can’t turn our heads and pretend you’re not okay.” Steve finally talked as he grabbed a beer and handed it to you. You could see the doubt in his eyes, the guilt of just barging in as they liked, and you could hear the slight apology behind his words.

You know that the rest would probably be here if they didn’t have work or other plans. You knew that. You gulped the lump in your throat that was already forming there because you had cried enough the first few days and you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore. You were putting on a strong attitude even if you really didn’t feel like being that strong or confident.

You raised your hand towards Steve’s and grabbed the beer from his grip. It was a sign of acceptance that they were already here, and they wouldn’t go away any time soon. You opened your beer as you heard Steve opening his. You looked at Robin who was looking at you with sadness in her eyes and you sighed, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry Robs.”

Your best friend immediately rushed to your aid, wrapping her arms around you in order to pull you close. You felt your chest press on you because of the emotions you were suddenly washed over with. You didn’t know you needed an embrace until now, wrapping your arms around Robin made you feel the lump in your throat coming right back up.

You clenched your eyes tightly trying not to let the tears fall as you felt your heart tightening at the hug. You were immersed into your own sadness that you didn’t know how to get out of and probably all you needed were the people inside the room right now. The ones who care enough that they prefer to invade your privacy than to let you fall deeper into a hole.

Eddie was looking at you, inspecting your face as he felt the sadness radiating from you. Why are you holding back from crying? Why do you always try to keep a strong front? He knows what you’ve been through, and he knows it’s not something easy to let go, but they are here now to help you. You weren’t betrayed by your friends like you had in the past.

His chest felt a little tight as he saw you hugging Robin and he looked at Steve who had the same worried look on his face, but he let a sigh of relief fall from his lips. They have been worried about you for the past two weeks, and even in the short period of knowing you, he had been too.

You pulled away from Robin and she immediately flicked your forehead with her thumb and index finger, making you wince and rub the area she hurt.

“What the fuck was that for!?” You yelled at that and she giggled at you, turning to go grab a beer for herself.

“For being a fucking idiot.” You rolled your eyes at her but a tiny smile spread on your lips as you took another sip of your beer. You looked up from the can, seeing Eddie looking straight at you, and that made your stomach turn slightly at the intense gaze. Your eyes snapped to Steve who grabbed a tube of Pringles and your mouth salivated at seeing they were your favorite flavor, doing grabby hands at it.

Steve chuckled at your reaction and he opened it for you first before handing it over to you. Still, before you could reach it, Eddie immediately snatched it away, putting his beer on the counter in order to stick his hand in and take a handful of chips, throwing them all inside of his mouth, and making you gasp in disbelief.

“You’re eating them all!” You groaned at him and he only sent a smirk your way, and he could see how your eyebrows were slowly knitting together in the middle of your forehead in anger and annoyance. Oh, he missed that face. It’s been a while since he last saw it.

“You want some?” He pretended to hand the tube to you and you quickly moved your free hand to grab onto it, only for Eddie to snatch it back. “Too slow.”

“Eddie–” Robin was the one that talked now and Eddie looked at her still with a triumphant smirk on his face.

“Yeah?” And suddenly he was pounced over, your legs wrapping around his waist as you did a big jump, one arm wrapped around his shoulders as your other hand reached over to grab the tube of Pringles. He quickly raised his hand up, yelling at the sudden action, almost falling on his ass by the impact.

“Give me the fucking pringles Munson!!!” You yelled loudly and the arm that was around his shoulders immediately gripped onto the low ponytail, pulling on it, making him wince in pain.

“What the fuck Peach!?” He was trying to keep you two balanced as he thrashed all over the apartment while Robin and Steve started laughing hysterically and taking videos of the scene unfolding before their eyes.

“Y-You never EVER mess with her pringles. NEVER!” You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you wanted the fucking pringles that were on this bastard’s extended arm, out of your reach, so you pulled on his ponytail even harder.

His eyes snapped open at the sudden feeling he got, a part of him twitching that really shouldn’t, so he put you down and slammed the tube of chips on your chest.

“Fine, fine! Take your pringles, Jesus H. Christ!” He cursed and you just took the can in your hands and sent a raspberry his way, and the tight feeling he felt before evaporated just like that, a laugh escaping his lips at your childishness.

You followed with a giggle and Robin raised an eyebrow up as she turned to look at Steve. He was already grinning, looking at her but the two of them didn’t say anything. Nothing needed to be said. They stopped recording the moment as you started stuffing your face with chips and Robin instantly yelled at your greediness.

Steve chuckled as he looked at Eddie, the smile turning into confusion as he saw Eddie looking at you with a puzzled look on his face, yet a smile was on his lips. Steve tilted his head, wanting to talk to his friend only for Robin to almost knock the small table that you left your beer can on before you jumped on Eddie, making him fumble forward to catch the can as quickly as he could.

The apartment was filled with laughter in a matter of seconds, of yelling and curses. The apartment that remained silent for over two weeks was now full of life you didn’t think you missed that much, and now having it, you’re realizing you were wrong. Now you wished the rest of the group were here. You really wanted the whole group together again.

You needed them. You needed these people who showed you time and time that they wouldn’t hurt you, never intentionally, and even accidentally they would ask for forgiveness. Like Eddie did.

You looked at him as he now recorded Steve and Robin wrestling for a can of pretzels, claiming it was each other’s favorite, and you were just in a trance as you saw how he was laughing, here, in your house… That laugh you saw many times on Instagram stories when Nancy or Steve would post him. That laugh you never thought would ever be near you.

It was a nice feeling. It definitely was.

You were outside now, smoking a cigarette in the kind of warm weather despite the season. You let the smoke out into the air as you heard the sliding door of your balcony open and you turned your head to see who the visitor was.

“Well, Robin and Steve overdid it with the special Margaritas.” Eddie stated as he sat on the couch next to you, placing a beer on the small table in front next to the… Eddie grabbed the item and showed it to you with an eyebrow raised up. “A Mickey Mouse ashtray?”

You snorted and almost choked on your smoke as you giggled at that and gave him a nod.

“I thought it would be funny.” It was his turn to smile and shake his head as he put the ashtray back on the table, taking out his own pack of cigarettes so he could light one up. You leaned over to grab his beer and take a sip out of it, and he did not comment on that at all.

He never liked it when people touched his food or his drinks. He would always make a snarky comment about them getting their own, but he really didn’t seem to mind it when you took a gulp and put it back in its place for him to take it next.

He took a deep inhale of the cigarette in his hand and he turned to look at your profile. You looked happy, yet that feeling of holding something back was still present in your features. His eyebrows twitched slightly as he looked away and into the sky.

“You don’t have to act tough all the time, you know?” You were taken out of your thoughts as you turned to look at him with a surprised look on your face. You shook your head at him, feeling your heart falling slowly into your stomach.

“I am not acting tough. I’m just slowly getting over it.” You looked forward once more, taking a drag of your cigarette, trying to hide the twitch that just happened in your eyebrow, but Eddie knew he couldn’t leave until you finally let it all out. You’ve been enduring it all by yourself the past two weeks, there was no need to do that when they were all here.

“Look, I told you I can read people like the palm of my hand, didn’t I?” He said and you surely remember that. You scoffed and looked at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Yeah, and I’m still wondering if you have a superpower or just a stalker.” He rolled his eyes at your joke and shook his head, taking a sip of his beer and handing the can your way. You took it in your hand and took a gulp as well, putting the can back on the table.

“I am just good at reading people.”

“Right, and I’m–”

“Changing the topic.”

You closed your mouth and snapped it shut to be completely honest. He was staring at you, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt an intense heat filling your entire body at the gaze, but it was a shameful heat. A kind of guilty feeling rising up inside of you that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

“L-Look… how I handle my problems is my own issue. I take me time, I prefer to be alone so I can think–”

“Bad.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in anger as you look at him, putting your cigarette out in the ashtray in front of you both. You were becoming defensive, you knew that, but you don’t know why he is intruding so much in your life when he should just back away.

“I always solved my problems this way! And it’s–”

“That’s a lie.” He wasn’t looking at you, but your face was on fire from anger, from nerves, from an anxious feeling that was building inside your guts.

“Excuse me?” You were going to explode at him, you really were, but then his face turned to look at you after he put the cigarette bud out on the ashtray, and your anger evaporated from your whole body at the frown on his eyebrows.

“You didn’t solve it alone in your past.”

Your heart was beating inside your chest, wanting to run out of your throat, and you could feel the blood rushing in your ears, and your hands started to become sweaty, extremely so. Your head turned, looking away from him and you wanted to run away because the lump in your throat was forming again. Fuck, it was happening once more.

“Sometimes I did.” That was a lie. That was a horrible lie. You always enjoyed the comfort of people, and the hugs they would give you in your moment of stress, of sadness, of anxiety. You always found stillness and calm when you talked to people about your problems.

Eddie was still looking at you with a saddened look on his face. He has been joking with you all night, trying to make you laugh, trying to make you forget… But he knew that you needed this. He knew it, and he wasn’t going to let you live this alone. If he knew something about life, it was loneliness.

“We are not like them.” His voice was calm but reassuring. You almost choked with those words and you gotta give it to him, he was one smart bastard. Your eyes were starting to burn and you needed to hold it in. You needed to.

“I know.” Was your short response, but Eddie didn’t hold back. He needed you to break.

“Then act like it.”

And that was enough for a tear to finally fall from the edge of your waterline and onto your cheek.

You were never alone in these moments. You always told Camila about your issues at work, about your heartbreaks, about your good moments, about your triumphs and your falls, and she had always been there. Always giving you a shoulder, always telling you that everything would be okay, always giving you advice and opinions on the issues you were going through.

You had someone to talk to, someone that knew you since little, someone that you thought would never, ever, not in a million years hurt you, harm you, or destroy you.

And what if it were to happen again? What if you were to open up to people that would hurt you later on? People that might rip you apart without hesitation? What if you opened up only for a knife to be stabbed back into your mouth?

It was wrong for you to put them all in the same bag, but could you really blame yourself? Could you blame yourself for how hard it was for you to trust someone entirely? It’s not that you don’t trust them, you just don’t trust the future. You don’t trust that everything will be okay. You don’t trust that everything has a happy ending. You simply don’t trust, so you move on tippy toes in order to not step on glass.

Robin was not like Camila. You knew that Robin would never do to you what Camila had done… but it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t. You wished it were. You wished you could see into the future to know that nothing changes, to know that you weren’t going to get your heart broken, but that was impossible.

How can someone trust another person as blindly as you trusted the one that hurt you?

“It’s not easy.” Your voice cracked. Fuck, it cracked. You took a sharp breath in, trying to calm down but he broke the dam. He broke it, and you were shaking trying to hold everything in, trying to tape it all back together.

“I know it’s not sweetheart… The last thing we want is to hurt you…” You didn’t miss the ‘we’. You didn’t miss how he included himself in that equation at all.

And for some reason, your chest filled with warmth at that, but you couldn’t contain the dam anymore. You really couldn’t, and Eddie’s eyes almost widened when more tears slipped down your face, uncontrollably so. The last time he saw you cry he had to hold back, almost painfully, in order to not go after Hargrove to beat his face in.

He protects his friends. Just like he punched that guy that tried flirting with Jonathan and groped him without consent. Like the girl that said nasty things to Robin at school and he dumped his drink all over her head. Like when he punched Steve’s father square in the face when he went to his house uninvited, only to see his father slapping Steve across the face after Steve came out as Bisexual.

He will always protect them, and now, you are included in that.

“I–” You had to snap your eyes shut as memories with Henry started coming back to your head, mixing up with the ones you have with Billy. You clenched your eyelids together as the memories turned painful with your resolve, with your heart. Eddie’s eyes twitched as he scooted closer to you but not touching you, even if he wanted to wrap his arms around you.

“You can do it, sweetheart.”

And you finally let that sob out of your throat. That lump that you swallowed many times during the night, the lump of words that needed to be thrown out of your lips but did not have the bravery to do so. And once that sob was out, many more came out after, tears falling even when your eyes were shut.

He didn’t interrupt your tears, your sobbing, your crying. He didn’t interrupt you even when he thought you were running out of air, he just let you cry without invading your space. He let you finally break down in peace, in a safe place, and he is joyful that you find that safe place with him. He knows you are not being evil to Robin, he just knows how to read people and he knows what they sometimes need to hear.

You knew your face was a mess, your eyes were red, your nose was snotty, but you couldn’t help it. You were letting out feelings that you held in for the past two weeks. Feelings that you pushed to the back of your head because you didn’t even want to think about it, you didn’t even want to say them out loud, but they were a great fear.

“I–” It was hard to talk, but you needed to do so. You needed to talk, to voice those fears out, to say what you are thinking, to say what you desire and what you are afraid of. Eddie noticed now that you were breathing irregularly, and even if he wanted to leave you alone, he didn’t want you to choke.

“Peach, I need you to calm down, slowly, you are choking on your breaths.” He now pressed a hand on your back, and you felt yourself feel lighter for some reason. Your sobs kept coming out as you took deep breaths in, but he was patient with you, guiding you every time you failed to take a long breath.

You might have stayed like that for a whole twenty minutes but he never stopped rubbing your back, coaxing you into breathing, but he wasn’t making you stop crying. He wanted you to keep doing that but needed you to breathe properly.

Your chest started going up and down slower and slower as time passed, a few sobs came out here and there, but the tears never stopped in quantity. They were waterfalls, just coming down and down, but you no longer cared. You didn’t.

And then Eddie finally saw your eyes again as you opened them. They were red, and glossy, your eyebrows were knitted together in the center of your forehead, and he noticed the pain that was being held inside of you. The grip on your back was a little harder now, but he reminded himself that he had to be gentle now, to push his own anger aside.

You looked out in the distance, and your throat was burning from all the sobbing, from all the crying, from holding that lump for so long, but it felt amazing. It felt as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders, of your head, of your body. But the weight in your heart was still there, and the only way to lift it–

“I’m scared…”

And Eddie’s ears perked up.

“What are you scared of?” And you took a deep breath in, and you finally opened your heart.

“All my life… I’ve always wanted kids. One, two… Maybe three.” A small smile appeared on your lips as you talked. “I know it’s cliché, but–”

“It’s not. It’s your dream.” Your eyes found his with surprise in them and he was looking back at you with an intense gaze you never saw from him before. You gave him a small nod and looked back down to your lap to continue.

“When I got together with Henry and when I got married… I was so happy, so excited. I told my mom how I couldn’t wait to start a family. Henry told me he wanted it too, that he always dreamt of being a dad.”

You cleared your throat as you felt another lump coming out thanks to the memories of Henry telling you all about the plans he wanted for his kids. Your mind was off again, lost in thoughts, and Eddie needed to get you out of there.

“He wanted kids like you…” Eddie pushed and you snapped back into conversation again, noticing you had stopped talking.

“Yes… He wanted them… Just not with me, it seems.”

Eddie’s free hand turned into a tight fist, veins popping out from the strength. He can’t do anything about it, it was your past, it was done with, but the anger wasn’t any less. He really wanted to kill that man. He just wanted to rip his head off.

“Peach–”

“And… with Billy– When I told him about this… He didn’t back away. He told me he wasn’t ready now, but that the idea didn’t scare him. That he always wanted…” A giggle escaped your lips as you remembered something and Eddie’s eyebrow raised up.

“What?” He was a little worried about your change in emotions, but maybe it was necessary for you.

“He told me he always wanted to name a kid of his, Eustace.” At that Eddie snorted, putting his free hand over his mouth as he shook his head.

“Okay, that is a horrible name. Poor kid.” He laughed and you didn’t hold back the giggle which turned into a sad frown as you tried to keep the sob in your throat.

“Yeah…” Your eyes drifted down to your lap, and you noticed how you were fiddling with your fingers, trying to keep yourself moving in some way. You felt your stomach in a strange amount of knots, almost making you feel sick. “But now, I’m no longer with him.”

“Peach–”

“What if I never reach that dream of mine Eddie?” You were fully looking at him now, and his eyes almost widened at the fear he saw behind yours. Fresh tears slipped down your eyes as you shook your head at him. “What if it never happens for me?”

Eddie was speechless. He never expected to see you afraid of anything, much less about your own dreams and convictions. He was staring at you as you kept looking at him, letting him finally see the pains and the fears that always plagued your head, finally voicing out what you’ve been afraid of doing for the past weeks, for the past year.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure it will happen, you are young–”

“And what if it doesn’t? What if I get screwed over again and again?” You knew you sounded crazy but the what-ifs always tortured your mind. They were always like little knives trying to dive themselves into your scalp, twisting in order to get to your brain.

“You don’t know that.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled together in the center, slowly centering in the problem, realizing that… you had a reason to be scared.

“But what if!? I can’t– I won’t ever have children! And I don’t want to marry someone for the sake of it, I really don’t!” A sob escaped your lips, but you didn’t mind as you kept talking, “I can’t adopt on my own either because this fucking world sucks! Everything just fucking sucks Eddie!”

And Eddie broke, his arms wrapping around your frame to pull you into him, your bodies twisting in order to face each other, but not uncomfortably. You welcomed the hug, your mind no longer in defense mode. There was no fortress now, the dam was broken, the armor you put on for the past year crumbled completely.

One of his arms was wrapped on your shoulders to pull you into his chest, while the other stayed over your arm. Your hands went around his waist and found grip on his back, your face squashed in his chest while his chin rested at the top of your head.

And you cried.

And Eddie held you.

And you cried some more.

And Eddie never complained.

And you both had no idea how long you’ve held one another. You didn’t realize either how your cries made Robin and Steve sober up slightly and stand in alert at the door of your balcony while Eddie looked at them with a pained look in his eyes. You didn’t notice when Eddie shook his head towards them so they wouldn’t scare you away, so they wouldn’t stop you from crying.

Why with Eddie? Why did you break with him? How did he even manage to do it? Robin is going to be pissed at you again, and your mind was being evil to you because Robin was far from angry when she saw Eddie hugging you just now. She was relieved. She was relieved that she was hearing you cry.

You felt Eddie’s hand going up and down your arm, trying to calm you down, and your nails were digging into his waist, his hips, his back, trying to put your feet back into the ground, and he didn’t care. The pain that your nails caused him, he knew it couldn’t compare to what you were feeling right now. The fear, the sadness, the hopelessness of never getting what you most desire.

That is something he knows perfectly well. For he has his own that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get.

After a while your shoulders stopped shaking, your grip softened, and Eddie knew his shirt was drenched, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Who would have thought the woman he couldn’t stand months ago was now crying onto his chest as if the world was going to end and she had tons of regrets about things she didn’t fulfill.

You slowly pulled away from him and quickly wiped your face because you knew all your makeup was smudged. You must look like a mess but there was no energy in you to be embarrassed about this.

But fuck if it didn’t feel good.

You felt lighter than ever. Way lighter than when you were with Billy even. A fear that had settled deep into your stomach and you never voiced it out for him. You sniffled and stared down at your lap, your breaths still coming out like sighs out of your mouth.

You felt his bent index finger rest below your chin and he raised your head so he could look at your face. Your pupils clashed with his and your stomach did a jump. Just one jumpy knot. Your eyes were puffy already, your lips were still trembling, and you were sniffling nonstop, but Eddie didn’t look disgusted or thrown off. He looked calm, yet you could feel a certain empathy, a certain understanding from how he was looking at you as if he was saying a silent ‘I know how you feel.’

“You’re still young, we all are, and you don’t know what the future holds, so being afraid of it is useless and fruitless.”

And your eyes were looking into his, and you could see how he was always trying to be strong too, even when he knew what the future held for him and his uncle. You realized that Eddie had it worse than you… because he knew. He knows how it will end, and he is the one telling you to not think about your uncertain future.

“I’m sorry…”

It came out of your lips naturally, feeling selfish again for not realizing sooner how your words might affect him. He only gave you a small smile and with his thumb, he wiped one of your cheeks from the stains of your tears.

“Nothing to be sorry for Peach. It’s normal to have fears… but you gotta let life give you some surprises, okay?” Eddie replied softly, and you felt calm in his voice, in his touch and you only wanted to rest against his shoulder because tiredness was slowly consuming you. He seemed to notice and he rested his back against the couch and patted his shoulder for you to rest on him.

You couldn’t bother to feel ashamed, bothered, embarrassed, you needed the cuddle, the snuggle, the touch. You needed to feel warmth again, to feel care from someone towards you, from someone wanting to make you feel better, to console you.

You don’t even remember when you fell asleep.

It wasn’t until the next day that you were in bed, waking up groggily still in the same clothes from yesterday night that you realized you slept the night away and you didn’t even flinch when Eddie or Steve moved you to your bed.

You groaned as you got up from the bed, feeling your throat as dry as a desert, only to almost fall to the ground when your foot hit something on the floor. You looked down with a gasp to see Robin sleeping with her mouth wide open and the spare futon under her. You contained a giggle as you tiptoed to your desk and got a marker out.

You kneeled down next to your best friend’s head and you slowly drew a mustache at the top of her lip. You smiled at your work of art and straightened up in order to go to your kitchen, only to stop in your tracks when you saw Steve sleeping on your living room couch and then Eddie…

He brought the balcony couch inside to sleep in.

Your features softened at seeing his sleeping face, soft breaths coming out from in between his lips, blocking Steve’s loud snores away. He could have gone home instead of sleeping cramped and uncomfortable on your small couch. He stayed despite that and is sleeping soundly in your living room.

Your heart gave one thump. Two thumps. Maybe three.

An hour later you were making some breakfast. You took your time to go down to the street and go to the small market in the corner to get some eggs and milk in order to make some waffles in your waffle maker. You got some syrup and powdered sugar, then blueberries and some bananas.

It seems the smell of food woke Robin up, as always, and you heard her walking out of the room groggily but with a pleasant voice coming out of her mouth.

“Mmm, that smells so–”

And you turned around just in time as she cracked up in laughter, pointing at Steve’s face. Steve jolted awake, shooting up on the couch with his hair completely disheveled, only to then start laughing as well as he saw Robin’s face.

“What the fuck is that!?”

“Me!? What the fuck is on your face Harrington!?”

“Can the both of you shut the fuck up?” The last voice said in a really gruff tone that if it weren’t for the situation at hand, your knees would have buckled. Steve and Robin turned to look at Eddie only to snort loudly and then laugh even louder than before, making Eddie raise an eyebrow of his.

“Dude, your fucking face–” Steve choked out and then he immediately shut up, face falling. He rushed to get up and run to the mirror that was in a column of your living room. He yelled when he saw that all of his freckles were now connected all over his face and neck, like a constellation of some sort, a few childish stars drawn here and there.

Eddie’s eyes widened when he saw Robin’s mustache and got up as well, rushing to the mirror alongside her to check himself out. He had small horns on his forehead and his eyebrows were filled and put in the shape of an angered frown. He straightened up and your three friends turned to look at you as you started whistling while turning your waffle maker.

“Does anyone want waffles?”

At the lack of response, you slowly turned around to find Eddie already towering over you and you choked on a snort, closing your mouth tightly because he just looked like a cartoon right now.

“You think it’s funny?”

“A little.” At your response, Eddie gave a nod.

“Steve, Robin. Pin her down.”

You ended up having your face drawn on. Your forehead had a small crown at the corner, your cheeks had two hearts and for good measure, Eddie put his own touch to it all and drew a dick in the corner of your mouth.

And you all ate waffles with drawings on your faces.

End of chapter 14

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drefear · 7 months

Text

Lost in the Lies of Us, Lost, Ain't no Finding Us

Inspired by @ofherdesire series of toxic Miguel, the characters are all theirs (aside from Miguel lol)

TW: arguing, cheating, lol bits of smut, toxicity, gaslighting, violence, crazy shit y’all.

“And if you wondered if I hate you, I do”

The day was bright and Miguel squinted at the sunlight. It was the next day, and he sighed as his doors opened.

“Peter, I don’t have time for-”

“You broke up with me through Lyla?” Her voice rang out and echoed around the metal structure, making the muscles in Miguel’s shoulders tense.

“I didn’t want to deal with this.” He turns and she’s already up on his platform, leaning to one hip with her arms folded over the yellow emblem on her chest.

“You mean you didn’t want to deal with me.” She shot back and he groaned, running his talons through his hair and feeling the knots pull against his scalp.

“I don’t even know you anymore!” He yelled and took a step towards her, his presence drowning compared to her thin physique. She backed away instinctually and he huffed through his nose. “Solías ser mi sol, pero ahora solo me muestras tu oscuridad.” He grumbled and turned away, “This doesn’t have to be so dramatic, just be professional and return my clothing.”

“So what? We can act like nothing ever happened between us? Like you didn’t love me?” She barked like an upset chihuahua and stepped into his personal space. “You’re just going to toss me aside like I’m nothing, like her?” She hissed and he swung back around to her, getting in her face.

“Do not bring her into this.” His voice dropped to an octave she’d never heard before, making her hands sweat a bit from nervousness. With tears building in her eyes, she refused to break eye contact and added to her previous statement.

“You’re nothing without me.” Her voice was shaky and her hands balled into fists, steeling herself to his gaze, but his look shifted from angry to unbothered and she felt herself waver for a second before he spoke again.

“I’d rather be nothing without you than miserable with you.”

Your hand felt warm with Pedro’s reciprocating the interaction, and the smile he gave you made everything around you blur as he was your only focus while you two ate lunch, but a ringing broke you both from your gaze and his eyes looked down.

“I have to take this.” He pecked your cheek before standing from where he was sitting and walking away. You sat on the cafeteria bench alone, waiting for him. Everything felt right, you convinced yourself.

Weeks later, and Miguel had been distant from the entirety of the society (more than usual), staying on his platform and burying his nose in multiverse affairs without leaving the comfort of his depressing desk. Everyone had heard the news of his breakup, and many were vying for the hand of one of the prettiest and most graceful spider women the society had, but he knew better. He knew what horns lay under her beautiful and soft blonde hair, the vicious tongue she had behind those white teeth that dazzled every time she smiled.

Miguel finally left his dark lair when he heard about a mishap that involved the spider t-rex and the gunslinger spiderman. He passed by the infirmary when he heard soft groans and a very familiar, sweet whimper that made his body freeze. He had heard those sounds in his own ear a few weeks ago, being the cause. As he stepped in the room, he saw shadows depicting exactly the image he assumed. He pulled the curtain and he wasn’t surprised to find his ex girlfriend on her back under someone, but it was the person on top he was furious about.

A message popped up on your watch from Miguel. It’d been so long that seeing his name on your watch frightened you, made you squirm until you read the contents of the message. You rolled your eyes, a twisted emotion spiraling out of you as you tensed. You knew it. Now that he was alone again, he was trying to wiggle his way back into your bed and to do so, he was trying to make you suspicious of your boyfriend, the man who showed you off to the world like a prize.

That was days ago, and after that phone call he’d received and the message you’d gotten from Miguel, you noticed that Pedro was distant, no longer present with you but always off in another place mentally. You were walking with Jess and Ben when you saw something your eyes weren’t meant to see.

There was your loving, doting boyfriend who you’d just been in bed with this morning, making love during the sunrise as he whispered dirty and beautiful ideas in your ear.

With his hand twirling those golden locks you’d grown to dread, come to hate.

“Shitty of you to make me feel just like this,”

Jess raised a brow as Ben continued speaking, and turned to where you were looking, inside a room where the window showed the public displays of affection your boyfriend was currently giving to your greatest rival. Your heart dropped and you felt cold everywhere.

Your hand moved to press against the door, but didn’t have the strength to open it all the way. The way her hands tangled into his black hair, her eyes looked into his as he smirked and kissed the corner of her lips, making her giggle and cover her face. You felt sick.

Nothing about this felt real, felt like the man you knew. Jess grabbed your shoulder and pulled your body into hers as your whole body trembled. The feeling in your chest felt like a crumpled piece of paper.

Your legs moved faster than your brain could process and you swung away, hiding in a hallway three floors down. Sliding over the orange glowing screens, you tapped until your found the number of your universe and opened the portal, hurrying through before anyone could see you, although you swore you heard someone call your name. Nothing mattered in that moment, you just needed to be alone and away from the rest of the society.

You refused to come to the society for days, avoiding anyone and everything in case someone tried to ask about what happened. A knock on your door broke your thoughts and you grabbed your phone, seeing all of the unread messages from your friends and Pedro.

His name glowed with a pink heart next to it and you hissed, throwing your phone across the room and watching the mirror crack down the center, shards splintering as your phone bounced onto the ground and landed face down. You covered your mouth in shock and sighed, then hearing the knocking on your front door persist, much to your discomfort. You got out of bed and padded through the dark, empty apartment. Peter B stood there in the door frame of your place, wearing a white shirt and sweatpants as you sniffled.

“Kid, I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around you before you could protest, and you sank into his embrace. The warmth was the most solace you’d had since the afternoon you found Pedro with her.

“Now I’m out here silent treatment, that means no permission,”

Peter sat with you as you gathered yourself, finally opening your phone to the many unread messages from Pedro, finally opening the walls of texts with heavy hands and cold blood.

“I should call him, tell him it’s over-”

A buzz made both your and Peter’s watches go off with an emergency alarm going off. What ironic timing.

“Think you can handle this right now?” Peter asked before opening the portal to the dimension you both were being summoned to.

“The distraction might help me put off talking to him, so yes.” You nodded before hitting a button and feeling the feeling of your suit taking form over your face. Following Peter, you saw red laser-like webs holding back the danger you assumed was an anomaly, to which you got straight to work and soared throughout the buildings beside you, webbing off the area from pedestrians who may get caught in the crossfire.

Peter swings to speak to Miguel while a blonde ponytail sways and catches your eye. Of course she was summoned, Miguel’s personal guard dog. You glared at her behind your mask and she just wiggled her fingers at you.

She knew.

You couldn’t get distracted now, as you saw a small boy trying to get past your barrier and jumped down to him, carrying him to safety before jumping back towards Peter and Miguel.

“What’s the plan?” You asked and Miguel swallowed thickly, not even sure if he could trust his voice to speak to you. “Hello? Earth to O’Hara!” You flailed your arms in a rushed motion before pushing both the men out of the way. He huffed as you fell into his chest from pushing him and he looked up.

“It’s got a weakness behind its neck to disarm the suit it’s using, but it’s not-” You moved before he could even stop speaking, and he ran to follow. “You can’t just jump into action!” He yelled and you shook your head.

“Get Peter to make a landing bed of some sort, find Little Miss Muffet and get her out of my way, and you need to find me a metal pipe or bat. I got this. Trust me?” You finished and he stopped in his tracks, looking to see what you were planning. It was a long shot, but he trusted you.

He followed your orders, instructing Peter to make a landing bed for you before grabbing the other spider woman and dragging her to where Peter was. “Help him, I’m going to find something.”

“Miggy-”

“Shut up.” He shot her a warning glance, signifying that now was not the time, and ran through the streets before finding a long, metal rod from the collapsing building next to the four of you. A portal opened above his head and he found another Spider jumping through.

“Am I too late?”

“Just in time, now go help Peter.” Miguel barked at Pedro and ran back to you. He called your name and as if in slow motion, threw the heavy metal to you.

You smoothly caught the metal rod thrown to you and swung around as the anomaly chased you before you purposefully dragged it in a circle, then smashing the rod against the small electrical panel on the back of its neck. You landed and stood beside Peter as you saw Pedro panting, then opening the portal to HQ and marching through. You wanted to get away from everyone as fast as possible, and HQ was the opposite of the space you needed. Your legs were trudging, not wanting to cooperate with your brain, but you knew you had to document what happened.

A hand grabbed your wrist as you entered sector 2 of HQ, trying to get to your office, but now stopped you. You turned to see Pedro staring at you with furrowed brows and concern creased by his mouth, by the lips you had let kiss you all over. Your mask disintegrated into your suit and you let tears fall down your cheek.

“You’re just like him.” You whispered and he looked down, gripping your arm hard enough to make you wince now.

“I’m nothing like him.” His voice was volatile and gave you a shiver of fear, unrecognizable to you. The Pedro you knew wasn’t dark and brooding like this, not like Miguel, and he wouldn’t hurt you. “That piece of shit, that cheating, lying son of a bitch, I would never hurt you like-“

“Let go.” You spoke up, voice cracking as you saw Peter walk through the portal now and step close to you both. Miguel and his ex-girlfriend followed, watching the scene intensely. “I said-”

“But you’re mine! My everything, mi corazon-” His hands moved to cup your face and you pushed him backwards.

“I saw you with her!” You shouted, putting space between you both. “You- You chose her, just like him!” You cried out, clutching your hands to your chest like you’d been shot in the ribs, holding your body as if trying to conceal the wound from the world. Afraid of everyone else seeing you cry, you hit a button to return your mask. You heard the tall blonde scoff from behind Pedro and saw her smirk, looking away, and your eyes snapped to stare at her incredulously.

Balling your fists, your eyes watered hidden behind red and blue technology before you got inhumanly angry. A roar ripped against your vocal chords as you lunged towards her, her spidersenses obviously not fast enough to protect her from your speed, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her to the ground with you. You slashed at her suit as she let out a scream and your vision became red with rage, then feeling large arms pull your form from hers. She crawled backwards, disheveled and out of breath from trying to hold you off, as you scratched and thrashed against the person holding you.

“Get yourself together, mi amor.” Miguel’s voice whispered in your ear and your whole body calmed, closing your eyes and drowning in his scent. “You’re better than this.”

“He cheated on me with her!” You sobbed, holding your eyes and cheeks as your body shook from the overwhelming sadness and emotions pouring from you. Peter stood beside Miguel and frowned at the girl on the ground a few feet from the group of you, seeing Pedro move to help her up.

“He…” Miguel frowned and held you closer to him, then shooting a deadly look at Pedro. “Stay away from her.”

“Don’t tell me what to do after what you did to her!” He barked at Miguel and the larger of the two sneered, like an angry pitbull.

“I told you to protect her, I told you not to hurt her, and you did exactly that!”

“What you put her through was worse.”

“This isn’t a competition.” Peter interjected and looked at each of them, then pulled you from Miguel’s arms. “While I don’t know what Miguel did, you both obviously hurt her enough, don’t you think?” Peter asked and Pedro immediately moved to take your hand again.

“Mi corazon-”

“Not yours!” You hissed and jerked your hand away. Peter opened a portal to your universe and walked with you through it.

Miguel stood as the three of them watched you leave in silence. Pedro slowly turned to Miguel and narrowed his eyes. “This is your fault.” He mumbled and Miguel raised a brow to him, confused. Where was this new side of Pedro coming from? This wasn’t the same warm smiled man who you walked hand in hand with around HQ, but he could say the same for the sunny spider woman currently sitting on the ground with scratch marks and bruises forming on her skin from your sudden assault.

“Excuse me?” Miguel replied, but the other man just shook his head and walked away, mask in a clenched fist by his side. Without another glance, Miguel walked away, feeling the weight of the past year on his shoulders.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst #miguel ohara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o hara angst

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inf3ct3dd · 9 months

Text

00. PROLOUGE

warnings: cheating, brief mentions of alchohol

authors note: starting yall off on a depressing note!!! dw it’ll get happier…for a while…

masterlist. next chapter.

the fizzy drink fell in front of you, falling all over your shoes and the floor of whoever-the-fucks house this was.

you had went to get yourself another drink, leaving ellie by herself across the room.

well, she wasn’t by herself for long.

under the color changing lights, you could see ellie ‘talking’ to someone. a girl. you couldn’t make out who she was in the lighting, but they sure looked like they knew each other.

you saw her rest her hands on the girls waist, the same way she did with you.

thats a little weird…..

and then you saw the kiss. the girl pulling ellies face towards hers, closing the already small gap between the two of them.

thats a lot more fucking weird.

ellie, your girlfriend, your ride to this party, was making out with another girl against the wall.

was she just…waiting for you to walk away? waiting for your attention to falter from her for 5 minutes so she could go mouth-fuck some random girl?

as the kiss went on for what seemed like forever, you felt warm tears trickle down your cheeks, leaving dark muddy-grey lines in their trail

your feet were planted to the floor. you were holding back loud sobs, breath hitching in your throat as the scene continued. the loud blaring music and the tension from trying not to start absolutely wailing mixed with how tipsy you were was extremely overwhelming, and you were begging yourself to just move. walk away. but you couldn’t.

you felt like it would last forever, until you heard someone yell ellies name from behind you. she broke from the kiss, looking in the direction she heard the yell from, and while her eyes searched the room, she found you.

black tears streaming down your face, arms hopelessly dangling at your sides, and your bottom lip shaking.

you had been so excited to go to this party, missing ellie since she was so busy with ‘soccer practice.’

‘tryouts are soon babe, gotta be prepared.’

yeah fucking right.

she held eye contact with you for a second, before b- lining across the room towards you.

suddenly, you could move.

you quickly made your way towards the door, heels clanking against the hardwood as you walked. you didn’t want to talk to her. didn’t want to hear her ‘explain what happened.’ hear her apologize, hear her at all. because you knew if you did, you’d fully fall on the floor sobbing in front of the random people at this party.

ellie didn’t let you get away though. even though she probably was lying about practicing for tryouts, she was still fast as shit, practically running behind you.

“babe? are you alright?”

you felt her place a hand on your shoulder from behind you, stopping you from stepping out the door.

her touch alone made you want to wail, but you took a deep, shaky breath and kept walking.

“babe? where are you going?”

to tell the truth? you had no idea. your house was no where near here, and your only ride was ellie- given that you were absolutely broke and could not afford an uber home.

after walking at least a block away from the house, and ignoring ellies questions, you finally took a deep breath and turned around.

“hey, whats going on with you?”

is she fucking serious?

“are you seriously asking me that right now?”

ellie obviously knew you saw her. there would be no reason for you to be standing in the middle of that living room with tears on your face, staring in her direction. was she trying to act oblivious? or was she just stupid?

you looked back at her, crossing your arms in front of you and staring at her. her eyes glistening under the street lights, while your whole face was shiny with tears. it was taking everything in you to not absolutely break down on this sidewalk.

“did someone like, tell you i did something?”

“no one had to tell me,”

you choked back a whimper, about to break into tears again.

“i saw you, ellie.”

ellies face dropped at your words. her mouth was slightly agape, eyes widened in shock.

“saw me do what?”

she asked, fake confusion in her voice.

her false ignorance made you wish you hadn’t dropped that drink on the ground, wishing you still had it so you could throw it in her face.

“oh i don’t know, maybe you making out with dina the second i walked away from you?”

ellies face fell into a frown as she stared back at you.

“babe, she was just-“

“just what ellie? literally what fucking excuse are you about to make up?”

she opened her mouth to say something, before quickly closing it again.

at least she knew better.

she avoided eye contact with you, now staring at the ground. she let out a loud exhale, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

there was a tense silence between the two of you, tears now fully streaming down your face as you looked back at her.

she reached forward and tried to touch you, but you pushed her hand away.

“can you just….take me home?”

she gave you a quick nod before walking back over to her car, you following behind her. as much as you didn’t want to be trapped in a car with her for 20 minutes, you definitely didn’t want to walk for an hour, in heels nonetheless.

she walked over and pressed the button on her keychain, unlocking the door and opening it for you. you stepped in and closed it yourself, the way she always did for you.

the car ride back to your house was completely silent, aside from an occasional sniffle from the passenger seat.

ellie had almost rested her hand on your thigh, but she quickly stopped herself.

she finally pulled up to your house, and you let yourself out of the car, still not saying a word. you heard a faint “bye” from ellie as you shut the door. you left her with no reply.

she sat and watched you walk inside your house before driving away. the second you got inside, you practically ran up the stairs and closed your door behind you, breaking out into loud sobs on the floor in front of it.

you sat there for hours, holding your legs to your chest and burying your head in the space between them, crying your eyes out.

you had lied about dumb things for attention since you were little. well….not lying, just embellishing the truth a bit! like making up stories when you didn’t know what to say. or when you did something wrong and you needed to get out of it. a survival mechanism.

you wished this was one of those made up stories.

#ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellies a cheating bitch 😕#ellie williams x you #ellie williams

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rainylana · 1 month

Text

“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate Version! part two!

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: part two of my series, will also be the final part in the installation.

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, depression and breakdowns, explicit details of rape and violence, mostly told in eddie’s pov, language. if i missed anything please let me know! i hope you enjoyed the reboot of this series<3 let me know your thoughts on this one, it was tough to write!

“Please, Y/n, you can’t shut me out. You can’t.” Eddie was sat by your hospital bed beside you, hands holding the metal railing that was put up at the sides.

“I told you, Eddie,” Your voice broke, eye swollen, purple and red with a gleam of tears. “I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Don’t need to talk about it?” He repeated shockingly, more so to himself.

You’d woke up an three hours ago, having been out for almost thirteen hours after you’d passed out. You were a completely different person. You’d shut down, cold, unwilling to talk about what happened. You only wanted one thing, and that was to go home. Eddie didn’t know how to handle it. He knew he shouldn’t push you. You obviously needed time, but Eddie wasn’t a patient man, and he needed you to be okay.

“Please,” Your voice broke, looking over to him with a bruised eye, the skin around your nose red and aggravated. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie, but I am fine. Just forget about it and get me out of here.”

The police had been there as soon as you woke up to question you. Did you recognize your attacker? Had you ever seen him before? What was he wearing? How tall? Did he tell you his name? What was his hair color? So many questions and so little answers. You hardly remembered it, yet you couldn’t seem to forget it.

Eddie had sent Wayne and all of his friends home. You weren’t up for visitors. Frankly, you were scaring Eddie. You seemed pissed, angry at the world and broken, not able to be fixed. You had a look in your eye that you’d never had before.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” He said tiredly. He didn’t sleep a wink in that uncomfortable chair.

Eddie left you alone then, leaving the room with a heavy sigh. He found your doctor at the front desk giving check out papers to another patient. “Dr. Grant?” Eddie called, gaining the female doctors attention. “How much longer till Y/n can leave?”

“We want to keep her just a few more hours for observation.” She checked her clipboard. “Just until we get the results of her head ct.”

Eddie nodded, not wanting to tell you the news of having to stay longer. He looked like a shell of a man, broken, eyes red rimmed and lips cracked from chewing on them. “I don’t know what to, doctor.” He looked to the floor. “She won’t talk to me.”

Dr. Grant frowned at Eddie, pulling him to the side so they could sit in the waiting room. She put her clipboard down on her lap. “Mr. Munson it will take some time before y/n will feel comfortable with talking. I can assure you that it’s perfectly normal in rape victims to shut down.”

He visibly cringed at her choice of words. Rape victim. You were a rape victim.

“I’m going to give you some paper work that may help you help her.” She smiled, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “I know it seems impossible, Mr. Munson, but eventually she will be okay again. It’ll just take time.”

Dr. Grant left the pamphlets on his lap as she left for her rounds. He looked down to find brightly colored pieces of paper, the words rape and assault plastered all over them. He got up quickly when his eyes teared up, disappearing into the bathroom and shoving the papers in his pocket.

Take time, it certainly did.

•

You acted as if nothing happened. You went on about your daily chores, cooked meals and cleaned the trailer. You were pretending, acting. Eddie couldn’t pretend nor could he forget. He was trying to be patient, that’s what the pamphlets told him. Be patient and understanding. But Eddie saw right through you. You weren’t that good of an actress.

He could see how broken you were, the look in your eyes was shattered and gone. The aches in your body you pretended weren’t there, how uncomfortable you were sleeping in the same bed with him. He offered to sleep on the couch and you’d nearly bitten his head off, saying you were fine and he was overreacting. All you were was angry when he talked to you. When anyone talked to you.

When it got late, when everything had been done for the day, you’d sit outside on the porch and stare up at the sky, smoking your pack of cigarettes that you’d swiped from Hopper a few weeks prior. You’d stay out there past midnight. Eddie hadn’t even seen you cry. You didn’t cry or get sad, only angry. That’s all you ever were.

You spent a lot of time in the shower, hours at a time during the night when you thought he was asleep. He never was. Neither of you slept peacefully anymore. You were barely eating. You tried, tried to keep up appearances to prove that you were okay, but you were slipping. It was getting harder and harder.

It had only been three days, but Eddie was starting to loose it. He couldn’t handle watching you fade away so quickly.

It was late when he finally had dozed off, but your absence in the bed woke him. His hand reached out to find you, only feeling the blanket and pillow. His eyes squinted in the dark, his heart beginning to race. Where were you?

He found you in the living room, one single lamp on that made your face an orange color, staring off into space with a blanket wrapped around you. Eddie frowned, turning on the kitchen light that made you jump slightly.

He tried to ignore the way you stiffened when he sat down, sitting a few feet away from you. He stared at you the entire time, trying to read your face. You looked broken. Utterly broken and so, so sad.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie began, sighing deeply. “I can’t keep watching you like this. I’m trying to…give you time, but it’s killing me watching you-” He stopped when he felt a lump build in his throat, not wanting to cry in front of you.

“I’m fine.” You dismissed him every time, not wanting to entertain the idea of breaking down in front of him. The mere fact he knew what happened, what everyone knew, made you feel weak and disgusting. Like a huge spotlight was on you. It was the worst feeling you’d ever felt, like you were standing naked on a stage, vulnerable and exposed.

Eddie bit his cheek and looked away. “No, you’re not, Y/n.” He swallowed roughly, looking back to you. “And that’s okay. I know you feel like it’s not, but it is. You don’t have to shut me out. Please, baby, you can’t shut me out.”

You squinted your eyes shut and looked to the wall. “Eddie,” You begged. “I can’t.”

You can’t.

That was the first time you had said that. That you couldn’t talk about it. Your voice had broke, just only a little. It was the first time he’d seen real emotion in three days. He didn’t want to push you, but you had to let it out. There was no way you could keep on living like this. It wasn’t healthy.

Eddie looked toward the window, it was pitch black outside, not even the flood lights were on. They had quit working a few weeks ago and no one had come to fix it yet. He swallowed back anxiety and nausea. “I know you’re scared-”

“No, you don’t.” You snapped, still refusing to look at him. “You don’t know how I feel. Nobody knows how I feel. They’re just trying to be nice.”

“Then tell me, baby.” He begged, placing his hand on your knee.

You shoved it off, storming up and escaping to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it just as quick. The shower was turned on within seconds, then he heard you crying, trying to muffle it with the sound of your sweater, or maybe it was a towel.

You hated him. You had to. There couldn’t have been no other explanation for your anger and hatred. You blamed him for what happened, for not coming to your rescue sooner, you just wouldn’t admit out loud. He felt like you’d been killed that night, like your very spirit had been snuffed away like a lit match. He missed you. It was his fault. It was because of him. He was the reason your spirit was gone.

He put his head in his hands and cried.

•

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Wayne. She won’t talk to me. She’ll barely even look at me. She won’t let me touch her. She won’t…she won’t tell me what happened. She blames me. I know she does.” Eddie pushed out air between his lips, struggling to breath. He’d showed up to Wayne’s mid panic attack one morning when you refused to get out of bed. The both of you almost broke out in a fight, except you wouldn’t fight. You didn’t have the energy. It had been another three days gone by.

He was sitting on his uncle’s old sofa, going back and forth from putting his head between his knees or fisting his hair with his hands. Wayne was making himself a fresh cup of coffee, watching as his nephew suffer through his anxiety.

“No, buddy, she doesn’t. She’s just hurtin’.” He poured the coffee into his mug.

“Then why won’t she let me in?” He bounced his knee. “Why won’t she let me help her? She blames me.”

“Try to imagine yourself in her shoes, Ed.” Wayne came over, cradling his mug as he pulled out the kitchen chair, sitting himself in front of his nephew.

“I can’t.” Eddie shook his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling.”

“That’s my point.” His uncle continued, raising his mug. “You don’t have the slightest idea what she’s going through, you’ve got to give her more time. It’s not even been a week yet, buddy. I know you’re anxious to help her. She’s lucky to have you.”

She’s lucky to have you.

He bit his nail nervously, thinking back to leaving you at the trailer, covered in blankets and refusing to get out of bed. He shouldn’t have left you, but he was on the verge of another breakdown and needed his uncle.

“Why is she so angry?” He gulped, his throat dry from his quick breathing. “I’ve never seen her this angry before.”

“Because she doesn’t know how to process what she went through.” Wayne placed his coffee on the table after another sip. “When we’re hurtin’, sometimes it turns to anger. I think you can relate to that, huh?”

He could. With the kind of life he led, his childhood, everything after vecna and the trauma he endured, he knew exactly what his father figure was talking about. When you hurt, when you have nothing else to feel, you get pissed off.

•

When Eddie got back home, he knew you were still in bed. The lights were off, the tv was off. The poor fish you shared hadn’t been fed yet. He quietly walked into your shared bedroom, the sunlight peering through the curtains, illuminating your face. The blankets were tangled around you, your arms hugging the pillow. You stared at the wall into nothingness, s blank look on your face that spoke volumes of emotion. You were heartbroken.

Eddie watched you for awhile, making his way to sit at the foot of the bed. He sat by your feet, putting his hand on your blanket covered ankles, squeezing them reassuringly. “How about something to eat, huh?”

It took you several seconds to respond. “I’m not hungry.”

He would much rather you be angry than like this. A zombie, unwillingly to move or breath, not able to function or communicate with him.

“What about some tea?” He tried, eyes soft and round, his hand softly rubbing circles on your leg.

You cringed under his touch, shaking your head. “I don’t want tea, Eddie.”

Then, Eddie’s throat filled with a ball of sick, but he quickly forced it back down. You said his name with such malice, such hatred and venom that told him everything he needed to know. You did blame him.

His eyes filled with tears and he stared at the wall. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

He’d said it time and time again, but his words came out in a desperation that he hadn’t yet conveyed to you.

“I don’t blame you for hating me.” He sniffled, his curls shaking with the weight of his shoulders. “I’m to blame and-”

“Eddie, please,” You sobbed, making him practically flinch in surprise. You were crying. “Stop it.”

He let out a whimper, falling to his knees so he could kneel at your head. “Honey,” He cried. “My baby girl, I can’t stand the thought of you hating me. Please, angel, just let me take care of you. Talk to me. Let me in.” He was begging you with a cracked, broken voice that made you sob right along with him.

His hand went to touch your cheek, but you flinched and sat up, bringing the blankets up to your chest. “It’s not you, Eddie!” You blubbered, snot running down your nose. “I don’t hate you! You can’t think that! P-please, don’t think that!”

He crawled up on the bed to sit in front of you, hot tears still rolling down his face. “Then why are you shutting me out? We’re supposed to be a team! We promised each other! You promised me and I promised you! Please, baby, I have to know what happened! It’s killing me!”

“I can’t!” You exclaimed, your tousled up hair falling at the sides. “Oh, God, Eddie, I can’t! I can’t talk about it! I can’t do anything! I just want to lay here and die!” You coiled over and wailed broken-heartedly, a song of cries that boiled out of your throat and paralyzed you. You curled up into a ball and practically screamed into the blankets. Eddie was shaking, bringing up a hand to bit as hard as he could, not knowing if you would allow him to touch you,

He placed one hand on you gently, and when you didn’t pull away, he quickly gathered you in his arms. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here, sweetheart. Just let it out. Let it out, let it out.”

You let him hold you, and in desperation of the moment, you wrapped your arm around his leg to bring the heat of his body flush to yours. You bawled your heart out into him, emptying all your fears and sorrow.

“I- I can’t stop- thinking a-bout him!” You said hysterically, your tears making his jean covered knee damp. “It hurt so-so bad, Eddie!” It sounded like your cries caused you physical pain, your words coming out choppy and broken.

Your bruised ribs ached from your heavy sobs, your hands going to hold your stomach. “God, oh, God, Eddie, I can’t do it! I can’t! I can’t!”

“You don’t have to.” He said firmly, trying to control his own sobs so you could understand him. “You give all that pain to me, okay? You give it all to me. I can handle it. You let me take care of you. I’m always going to take care of you, sweetheart.”

Your bruised nose had started to bleed onto his jeans, going unnoticed from the both of you. You were hyperventilating, shaking and practically convulsing in his arms.

“Come on, baby,” He held you to his chest, your body still curled up against him. “It’s okay, I’m here. Just let it out. Tell me what you need to.”

It hurt. It hurt so bad. He hurt me so bad and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so scared. I’m scared he’s going to find me. I don’t want you to look at me differently. I feel so weak. Please still love me. Please stay with me. Don’t tell anyone I’m afraid.

You cried for so many things, but he listened to every last word you had to offer him. You told him what happened. A man had followed you into the bedroom, forced you down and split your legs apart, punching you in the nose and kneeing you in the ribs, shoving himself inside you like a sword, piercing it’s way into you roughly. You had cried and cried, screamed and begged, till you didn’t, finally going into shock and laying there, taking it.

Eddie had tried his hardest not to breakdown at your confession, but he could only do so much. He held you into the dark of night, promising what he had said. He was always going to take care of you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #female reader #i’m always going to take care of you

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 11 months

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Pairing : (College AU)non!idol!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : established relationship ; bullying ; depression ; attempted su*c*de ; major angst ; is it considered fluffy at the end or more yandere the way that Seungmin acts at the end??? ; let me know!!! Word Count : 4.6k Request : Anon : depressed reader gets actively bullied and bruised which leads to a suicide attempt. seungmin never thought it was that serious once she brought it up to him. but after her failed attempt he is now extra careful with her and maybe a bit mad at himself for not taking it seriously. A/N : PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE CLICKING READ MORE!! To the anon that requested this, I hope you're still here and you remember sending this in! I'm finally posting it!! I hope you enjoy it! The gif came from this blog!!

It rained again today… It seemed like everyone on campus knew that the storm was coming, everyone but you. Umbrellas were pushed open all around you as you quickly put your hood up, the downpour was torrential and you were soaked within the first minute of your walk back to your dorms. It didn’t help that people seemed to be purposely angling their umbrellas so that whenever you walked by, the rain from the top would pour onto your head.

You’re overthinking it… There’s no reason anyone would purposely do something like that to you. You don’t deserve that. Is what everyone else would say, even your boyfriend… And you would have believed them if not for the insults that were constantly hurled in your direction and the scrapes and bruises that littered your knees and elbows from being pushed around and laughed at when you fell to the ground. You didn’t believe them… And they didn’t believe you.

By the time you got to your building you were dripping wet, but the attacks wouldn’t stop until you were behind closed doors, in the safety of your room, at least for the next couple hours until the next day started and you got to go through it all over again. That was your life, a constant repeat of the day before, and you weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

As soon as you walked through the front door of your building you heard it, the laughter of the girls who seemed to make it their job to make sure your life was hell. You weren’t sure what you had done to make them hate you so much, you had never even talked to them, but they still decided to target you.

“God, look at the shit they let live in the building with us.” One of them said, although you sure it was the main girl talking. Every clique had a leader, and it was obvious that she was the leader of the group. Everyone else just decided to follow along, and maybe it was because they were scared of being on the receiving end of the girls shit. You were done being scared though, you had simply become numb to it. “What should we do? She looks like a fucking sewer rat, dripping shit all over the entrance. Disgusting.”

You couldn’t walk fast enough, and even if you tried to, you were sure that she’d catch up. She was following right behind you, and before you could even get your foot on the first step, you were being pushed, your knee cracking loudly as it hit the edge of the stair. You didn’t make a sound, you didn’t wince, you didn’t cry, you just got back up, trying your best to focus on anything but the pain that shot through your leg as you continued walking up the stairs.

“Now she’s an injured rat, maybe she should just put herself out of her misery. It’s not like anyone wants her here anyway.” They all laughed, like your pain and your suffering was entertainment for all of them. Maybe they were just bored… It’s not like you could do anything about it. If you said anything, it would only make things worse and no one would ever believe you… You were nobody… There wasn’t a single person who would notice if you were gone.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning if you want to go out and get breakfast together before class.” Seungmins voice came through the speaker of your phone as it sat on the bed. You hummed softly, not in agreement, not in disagreement either though. It was a sound only to let him know that you were there, that you were still listening. “Did you bring your umbrella with you today? It was raining really bad.”

You hummed again, once again becoming aware of just how wet you were, your clothes soaking through to the mattress that you were sitting on. “Yeah… I’m gonna take a shower and then a nap… I’ve got a lot of studying to do… Want to be well rested.” You muttered, your voice almost robotic, but he didn’t pick up on it, or maybe he did and he just decided to ignore it.

“Alright. Don’t study too hard. I’ll see you in the morning, I’ll pick you up.” His voice was as cheerful as usual, not a care in the world… and why would he have one? He didn’t go through what you did. He didn’t know what it was like, and he refused to believe that it happened to you… In his eyes, everything was perfect. Nothing was ever wrong because it didn’t hurt him… not personally at least.

That’s how it always was… He either didn’t want to believe that such horrible people existed, or he just blew it off, assuming that you were making it seem worse than it actually was. That’s why you didn’t even tell him anymore. You were tired of wasting your breath, trying to call out for help, trying to get him to listen to you and be there for you. It was all pointless. Nothing would ever change… Not for you, not unless you did something… You were the only person who could help yourself.

Your roommate wasn’t back yet, she was always out late studying. It was the perfect opportunity, the perfect time. No one would ever know, and by the time they did, it would be too late. You weren’t going to continue being tortured, you shouldn’t have to continue suffering just to make other people's lives easier, to give them their daily dose of entertainment. You shouldn’t have to go through hell just so someone’s perfect view of the world wasn’t soiled.

Your phone was left on the bed as you went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and taking a deep breath. It would be over soon, it would all be over soon. It’s not like anyone wants you here anyway… Those words repeated over and over in your mind as you dug through the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the razors that you had bought a couple months before. They were purchased right before your talk with Seungmin. You had wanted so badly for him to listen to you, to tell you that everything would be okay, that he’d help you… You were wrong in wanting those things, you hadn’t gotten any of them. You weren’t sure why you had even held out this long after the talk, it’s not like anything was getting better, and you knew then that nothing would ever be better.

The hoodie that you had been wearing was pulled off, dropping to the ground with a heavy thud, the soaking fabric creating a puddle where it landed. The shower was turned on, the spicket turned all the way to hot. If this would be your final moment, you at least wanted to be comfortable for as long as it lasted.

Hesitating was something you did often. You hesitated when having to pick a multiple choice answer on a test. You had hesitated a little too long when you were called to the front of the class to answer a question on the board. You even hesitated when Seungmin had asked you to be his girlfriend. Hesitation was just… your thing. Not now though, you didn’t hesitate at all as you climbed into the tub, lowering yourself down into the tub. There was no reason to take pause, your decision would affect no one, no one but yourself, and the only effect it would have on you was positive. You would finally be free, and you saw nothing wrong in wanting that.

It was much easier to sleep, to let yourself drift off knowing that you’d have no worries left, knowing that once your eyes were shut, they would be shut for good. You let your wrists fall into the water that filled up around you, focusing only on the sound of the shower, the way it felt like rain as it poured down around you. You’d be okay soon, and while you didn’t know where you’d go or what would happen next… At least you wouldn’t be in hell, at least not this one.

“I really have to go to the bathroom, stupid rain. Just wait here, I’ll be out soon.” Your roommate said as she burst through the door, the rest of her study group drenched as they filed in behind her. She knocked once on the door to the bathroom, then once more, rocking back and forth impatiently as she waited for you to give her the okay to come in. “Fuck it!” She called out as she pushed open the door, coming to a full stop when she saw you, the bath water a dark red as it inched closer and closer to spilling over the sides. “Help! Come help me! Oh my god! Call an ambulance! Fuck! What the fuck!?” She shouted, running over to the tub and grabbing your arms, holding them above your head to try to stop the bleeding.

The rest of them rushed in, some of them screamed when they saw you, your color almost completely drained. Others were pulling out their phones, trying to make the same call at the same time. The ones who screamed were ordered to come over and help, their hands shaking as they tried to help your roommate pull you out of the tub. The others who were on the phone were all trying to tell your roommate and the few others what to do to try to help, at least until the paramedics arrived.

It was strange how even with all the commotion, your mind was happy. You could hear all of it, but you refused to focus on it, scared that if you did it would bring you back to the hell that you called life, the hell that you were trying to escape. “Why would she do that? Why? Are her grades bad? She could have come to study group with us!” Someone had shouted, and if you weren’t feeling so tired, you might have actually laughed. Your grades were the least of your problems, they weren’t even on your list of problems. Of course, your roommate had never believed you either, so she had probably never brought it up to the rest of her group.

“Check… Check to see if her heart is still beating!” One of the guys shakily ordered, and your roommate pressed her fingers against your neck, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to focus on the feeling of the faint beat that came a little too slow. Time was running out, and you felt it too, it was a good feeling, to know that soon you’d gone. There would be no more suffering, no more nights spent lying in your bed crying as you wished that someone, anyone, would understand you, that they’d just listen.

Sirens sang outside the building and you wished that you had done it earlier, that you hadn’t even answered the call from Seungmin. Maybe if you had cut a little deeper… maybe you had been hesitating, a little bit of hope left that maybe now someone would help. Did you really want to die or did you just want things to get better? Would things even get better? At least you were feeling tired, no matter what happened now, you’d be so out of it you wouldn’t remember. Maybe you wouldn’t wake up, maybe it would still work. Maybe…

“Dude, have you seen on twitter?” Jisung asked, leaning back in his chair as he scrolled through his phone. Seungmin was sitting across from him, more focused on his meal. “There was a freaking suicide attempt back on campus… there’s literally live updates right now.” Seungmin rolled his eyes, not nearly as impressed as Jisung for some reason was. “That looks a lot like Y/Ns building! You should call her! See if she knows what’s going on!”

The last thing Seungmin wanted to do was bother you when you had told him you were studying, but by the way Jisung was looking at him, Seungmin knew he wouldn’t let up. “Fine… But I’m not gonna force her to look at that. She can’t handle that kind of stuff.” He mumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It’s not just that you couldn’t handle it, you absolutely hated stuff like that. You couldn’t even watch horror movies without hiding in Seungmins shoulder for the better half of the movie.

Jisung watched as Seungmin dialed your number, his knee bouncing so much under the table that Seungmin could feel it in the floor. “S-Seungmin!” A male voice came over the phone, it wasn’t you at all, and the man sounded breathless and his voice was shaky. Now, Seungmin wasn’t the type of person to jump to conclusions, but he couldn’t help but get a little worked up when he heard anyone but you on the other end of the line.

“Who are you? Where’s Y/N?” Seungmin hissed through the phone, his fist already balled up on the table as he awaited an explanation. Knowing you it would probably be a good one, one that would have Seungmin feeling foolish while laughing about it later with you. You probably just left your phone at the cafe that you always went to… But that wouldn’t explain the urgency in the person's voice… This was someone who knew something or had done something and it wasn’t good. “Where is she?” Seungmin asked again, and he could feel Jisungs eyes on him, eating up the drama without a word, enjoying it far too much since he wasn’t the one personally involved in it.

“Hospital… Ambulance… Lia found her… Come fast…” The man said, and then the line went silent, leaving Seungmin to put the pieces together. He reached across the table to grab Jisungs phone, still open to the twitter feed about the attempted suicide, and as he scrolled through the pictures it became quite clear to him. Your room, with the yellow tape making a big X across the door, your bed that was still made just as it had been this morning. Your bag sat on the floor next to your nightstand where you always left it… And on the nightstand table was a picture of you and him together.

“H-Hey! Where are you going?!” Jisung shouted as Seungmin pushed away from the table, his chair falling back and crashing against the floor as he ran to the front door and pulled on his shoes. The trip that he and the guys in his club had gone on had him miles away from you, of course that’s how it would work out, why wouldn’t it be like that? He needed to be with you the most right now and it would take him hours just to get there. “What is going on?! Come on, dude! Tell me!”

“It was her!” Seungmin shouted to Jisung, although nothing would stop him from moving forward right now. He was on a steady track and it led only to you. He wasn’t crying, not yet, for now he kept the tears at bay with nothing but anger. Anger towards himself for not being there to stop it, anger with you for doing something so stupid. Did you even know what that would have done to him? He loves you, and you were going to just take yourself away from him like that without a word? Why didn’t you talk to him? Why didn’t you tell him? What was going on that would make you think to do something like that? He didn’t get it, and that was only pissing him off more. Right now he just needed to get to you, make sure that you’d be okay.

~~~

“She lost a lot of blood, so we had to do a transfusion. She’ll be okay, we just need to keep watch over her, make sure everything stays good.”

“Can I see her? Why aren’t you letting me in her room? What’s going on? Let me see her!”

“They would like to talk to you first… Before you see her…”

He sat in the lounge room, his hands folded on the table as he looked at the officer across from him. He didn’t know what it was about, but he tried his best to keep calm even though all he wanted to do was get to your room and sit beside you. “Kim Seungmin… You were her boyfriend, right?” The officer questioned and Seungmin narrowed his eyes as it set in that he was about to be interrogated for this shit.

“I am her boyfriend… Present tense…” He responded, quite snarkily, but this felt like a complete waste of time to him. “Is there a reason why you’re doing this? Do you guys think someone else did this to her and set it up?”

The cop shook his head, leaning back in his chair as he looked over Seungmin. “Where were you tonight? How did you know to come here? Seems like you came pretty fast too… Like you knew this was going to happen…”

Seungmins eyes went wide and his jaw was slack as he stared at the officer. How could someone even insinuate that this was somehow his fault? “I was three hours away with my club. I’ve been out for almost a week going to different high schools trying to get people to apply to the university. I called her because my friend saw a bunch of posts on twitter about something happening… I didn’t know it was her until some random guy answered and told me.” He ran his hand through his hair, his teeth gritted as he closed his eyes, his composure slowly wearing thin. “I came fast because she’s my girlfriend… I’d like to think that anyone else would do the same thing. I broke a lot of traffic laws to get here as fast as I did.”

“Do you two ever fight? Does it ever get physically violent?” The officer rapidly tapped his pen against his notebook, the sound going straight to Seungmins head, driving him absolutely crazy. The assumptions were absolutely preposterous, only fueling his anger towards the entire situation.

“Look man, I don’t know what kind of information you’re fishing for, but I didn’t do anything. I’ve never laid my hands on her. I love her… And I really want to be with her right now. Can we be done with this?”

“So you love your girlfriend so much, you never laid a hand on her… Yet she’s covered in bruises? If we didn’t know any better, it looks as though someone might have mistook her for a punching bag.” Seungmins stomach dropped as he listened to the officer, and while he knew that he himself hadn’t been the one to cause those marks on you, a certain rage built inside of him as he tried to think about who would hurt you like that. “Do you know of any accidents she might have been in to cause her kneecap to be entirely shattered? Do you know anything at all?”

His head shook as his tears finally began to fall. You had never told him anything… What had happened to you while he was away? “I… I don’t know… I’d just really like to see her… Please…” His head dropped into his hands as he sobbed quietly, his body shaking with ragged breaths.

Seungmin was no help to the investigation, and the officer quickly realized that, helping him out of his chair and then leading him out of the room, motioning towards the closed door that would soon open and reveal you to him. Were you awake yet? He had so many questions that he wanted to ask you, but the biggest question of all was why… Why would you do something like that? If you answered that one question, he’d have the answer to a lot of his other questions too.

The nurse let him into the room, and seeing you, it had his heart breaking. You looked so weak, so fragile, your arms were completely wrapped up in gauze, your leg had been casted and hooked to a strap in the ceiling to keep it elevated. “Are you sleeping?” Seungmin whispered as he got closer to your bed, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stood beside you. The IV for the blood that was being pumped into you had to be inserted in one of the veins in your neck, the sight of it causing a cold chill to run up his spine. “I’m here now…”

“Do you… believe me… now?” Your voice was so quiet, and your eyes were still shut, if there had been other people in the room he would have sworn it was someone else talking, but you were the only one there, and now he was trying to think of what you could possibly mean. “Was this… enough?”

His hands held onto yours a little tighter as the reels in his mind turned, trying to understand what you were talking about, but nothing was coming up. “What are you talking about? I always believe you… What happened? Tell me, please… I want to help you… I don’t want this to happen again… Talk to me…”

Your fingers twitched against his own, yet your eyes seemed to be glued shut, and even as he was watching your face, it didn’t even look like your mouth was moving even though words were coming out. “People are bad… Seungmin…” People are bad…. What does that even mean? What do you mean? Your answers were only creating more questions for him.

“Visiting hours are over now, sir.” The nurse said from the door. He hadn’t been given enough time though, he needed to know, he needed to know what you were talking about. His head shook rapidly as he kept watching over you. He didn’t want to leave you, even if you didn’t answer any more of his questions, he wanted to stay beside you. “She needs to rest, sir… You can come back in the morning to see her. Okay?”

It’s not like he had a choice, and he didn’t want to have to be escorted out by the officer who interrogated him, so he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before walking backwards to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow as early as I can… I promise. I’ll be back.”

People are bad… He mulled over the words in his head as he walked through the parking lot and climbed into his car. What the hell did it mean? He couldn’t ask you now… And the only place he could go for any sort of answer was your dorm. Was it still taped off? It’s not like it was a crime scene… It should be open.

The building wasn’t too far from the hospital, he was there within ten minutes, and when he pulled up he could see a group of people sitting on the bench outside smoking a cigarette. You always told him how you hated that, having to walk through the cloud of smoke just to get to the front doors, and it seemed like they would purposely blow it in your direction… People are bad… He’d always tell you that it was just the wind blowing it towards you, that people wouldn’t purposely do something like that.

“I can’t believe she actually did that. What a fucking drama queen.” “She didn’t even write a note. It’s like she was looking for attention.” “How embarrassing for her boyfriend. He’ll probably dump her. Nobody wants to date the campus suicide risk.” “Oh please, it was embarrassing for him to date her in general. I’m sure he only did it out of pity.” “Whatever, the bitch should have cut deeper.”

How could they talk so harshly about you? Were these the ones… the ones that you had told him about before? “Do you believe me now?” He hadn’t believed you then… If he had, would you have done this? He could have stopped them… He would have stopped them. They were still talking, loud enough for everyone to hear… And no one cared. No one cared enough to tell them to shut up, no one… You could be dead… And they talked about you like you were shit.

“Hey, at least we’ll have a couple days out of class… You know… For like… Guidance or whatever.” “Oh yeah… We’re super torn up about it…” “If she would have done it right we’d probably have a week or two. Ugh… I swear, she’s fucking useless.”

Red. All he saw was red as he got out of his car, slamming the door shut and going straight over to where they sat. “Shut up!” He shouted, and for a second, he thought they would keep quiet, but as soon as the initial shock wore off, they were all laughing. Their heads were thrown back as the boisterous laughter bounced off the walls of the building and rang in his ears. “I said shut up!” He screamed, and before he even realized what he was doing, his fist was cocked back and being thrown straight at the face of the girl who sat in front.

Now, Seungmin wasn’t a violent person, not usually, but you were his girlfriend, he almost lost you, and while some might say that a college relationship means nothing, his relationship with you meant everything to him. “Hey man! What the fuck!?” One of the other girls shouted, her hand quickly moving to the main girl's face to catch the blood that trickled down her nose. “You can’t just fucking hit people like that! You’re a psycho!”

Now it was his turn to laugh, his fists still balled up at his sides as he glared at every single person in front of him. “Really? I can’t just hit people like that but you can?!” The girl who had been hit scoffed loudly, her head rolling forward causing the blood to drip down her mouth and hang at her chin.

“Don’t worry, he’s just the bitches boyfriend. She’s too much of a loser to fight back herself, I guess she got her boyfriend to do it for her. Or maybe she’s just not alive to do it.” She stood up from the bench, a cocky smirk on her face as she looked at him. “I guess she’s getting all the attention she wanted now. I did your bitch a favor. You’re welcome.”

He completely lost it, he snapped, his hand flying back just to shoot forward, the smack that landed across the girl's face sounding much louder in the silence that surrounded them. “I find out any of you even so much as look at her… I’ll slit all your fucking wrists and break both your fucking knee caps. I’ll make you suffer, I’ll make you wish you were dead. I can and I will ruin you… Remember that.”

He wasn’t this kind of person… Not before he had met you, but seeing you in the hospital bed, knowing that he had almost lost you forever, it had sparked something inside of him. He wants to protect you, he wants to keep you safe, and if that meant having to be like this… Then he’d do it without hesitation. People are bad… You weren’t wrong, people are awful… But he’d do everything and anything to keep those people away from you, to protect you from them. He’d stop at nothing to make sure that this never happens again.

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