#and my stupid ass not hearing him thought he was talking about drugs

[jeon-ify]

that night : j. yunho - pt. 1

a/n: this is my first actual fic since i’ve just been posting scenarios and requests :3 !! this idea came from listening to ‘you broke me first’ by tate mcrae. its a great song and it reminds me of yunho but toxic yunho. it would kinda be good if you listen to the song while reading !! idk girl i just write

genre: smut, drama, early 20s- mid 20s romance, toxic/dark romance, 18+

warnings: smut, dark romance, toxic!yunho, yunho has a threesome with y/n’s best friends, yunho is a cheater, reader swears a lot, yunho calls reader a psychotic bitch, san is a druggie, alcohol, cocaine, yunho begs, yunho gets sad and guilty, reader claims she moved on, san is annoying as hell, wooyoung is readers bestie!!

“san! i haven’t talked to you in so long, i’m sorry! how have you been?” your phone rang, you look to see that san called you about 20 times. you’ve been ignoring him, since he’s done almost every drug under the sun in the past year since you all have moved to different cities.

“man I called you 6 times. stop playing dumb. yunho’s asking about you again, please call him back. i’m sick of his shit.” san sniffles sharply. you’re sure he’s doing crack again, but when is he not?

you did not want to hear about yunho. you haven’t heard about or seen him in almost 4 years now, recovering from that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~

you call yunho, in hopes that he’d pick up. you left him a voicemail asking if he’d want anything from target when you were off work tonight.

*hello!! it’s yunho, sorry i couldn’t take your call. leave a message and i’ll call back!*

“i’m gonna stop at target, babe. did you want anything? love you, call me back.”

you finish your target run, grabbing a set of shampoo and conditioner and other necessities as you’ve been out of your favorites for a week now. you step out of the car, grabbing your bags and unlocking the door to yunhos apartment. you didn’t live with him, but you practically did since you were there almost every day of the week.

“~yuyu, fuck its so good! so big!” “you fuck us so good oh my god.”

“you’re both so fuckin’ pretty. my god.”

no fucking way.

your heart dropped to your ass, at a loss of every word in the dictionary. you felt like you were being run over by a truck 100 times over.

it felt like every moment with yunho was flashing at once.

he told you he loved you a million times a minute, you thought you were the only one. you thought that yunho would love you and only you, but how could you be so stupid to trust anyone else again?

you walk to where the noise is coming from, tears flooding your eyes, threatening to fall. the door is cracked a little, you see a pile of black hair and red hair mixed, one on top of the other. one of the girls has a tattoo on her wrist while the other has one too— it looks all too familiar.

one tattoo being a moon, the other being a sun.

your best friends.

you want to cut off the star tattoo on your wrist so fucking bad. how could they ever betray you like this? they never approved of yunho, but he’s inside both of them, fucking them on your shared bed. in your (what was once) home.

you didn’t even want to acknowledge the situation, instead you dropped the target bag at the door of the bedroom, leaving as soon as you could.

hours later, yunho calls. no answer.

you stare as your phone rings.

*32 missed calls from yuyu 🫶🏻✨*

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: hey, sry i didn’t call back. where’d u go?

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: babe?

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: y/n, pick up the phone.

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: not funny.

Read at 12:43AM

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: ur reading my fkn messages but ur not answering n its pissing me off

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: alr whatever lmao dnt pick up.

Today at 5:21AM

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: i cnt sleep, thibkin about yoj

*2 missed calls from yuyu 🫶🏻✨*

you watch your phone ring, waiting for the ringing to stop. your tears flow, deciding to call him back.

“baby? my fucking god, i mis-missed you. *hiccup* had me worried sick.” he slurs. he’s fucking crying.?

“you’re a fucking liar. my best friends? you’re drinking, you piece of shit. and you’re fucking crying?”

“relax, they’re not your best friends and i know that cus they did that to you, plus me and you baby, we don’t belong to each other. been wanting to leave. felt so fucking locked up. you won’t let me do what i want, you controlling fucking psychotic bitch.”

what the fuck.?

you watch the time on the phone call increase as he mumbles what you really meant to him.

you feel like you really did trap him, but you both didn’t agree on a poly relationship. for him to fuck your best friends is an insane thing to do to someone.

you end the phone call after 57 minutes of yunho talking about how much he fucking hated you for never letting him fuck your friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“i’m never talking to that piece of shit again and never bring him up to me. i have things to do, i’ll text you.”

you hung up the phone after 35 seconds.

you’ve grown past the situation with yunho, healing and becoming a better person. you were single, traumatized from your past relationships being a burden on you. but, your best friend wooyoung always supported you through and through. he wanted what was best for you, even though he introduced you to yunho. it wasn’t wooyoungs fault that yunho had fucked up (or was already fucked up), he just wanted to help you find someone. you had your own apartment, your own car and your own lash studio. you were booked for days on end, always working and being your own person.

but, with healing comes pain.

you’d occasionally think about yunho, how he’d pamper you in gifts and he’d take you anywhere you wanted. you thought about the nights that you’d cried to him, he’d hold you in his warm chest, making sure you were held and you didn’t feel alone. you sometimes still toss around in bed, thinking yunho was next to you, on your right side. you’d still bake matcha and white chocolate cookies as if he’d eat them with you, a reminder that you loved yunho— as your love language was baking— and every time you see those cookies, your heart begins to ache.

you pick up your phone and text your best friend, as he’s the only person you go to for anything.

—————-

to: woo 🧍🏻‍♀️

y/n: bitch get up

y/n: r u awake yet

y/n: GET THE FUCK UP BRO ITS AN EMERGENCY

y/n: if ur not up in the nect 5 minutes i’m calling the cips

y/n: next *^ & cops^*

y/n: man i just need to talk 😩 san called me

*seen*

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: girl what the FUCK

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: did u call the cops yet

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: is the cop hot

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: bitch WHI CALLED

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: im calling u rn answer

your best friend calls you in no less than 3 minutes after your series of texts.

“why is san calling you? what’d he want?” wooyoung asks, concern masking his voice.

“woo, i just started feeling like i finally moved on from all that bullshit. he fucking calls me like ‘oh yunho wants to talk to you’ and i’ve been dodging yunho for fucking ever. i know he’s been calling me but-“ you ramble to him. he cuts you off, questioning:

“did you ask him what he wanted from you?”

“it doesn’t matter because im over it and im over fucking everything. its all bad news and i don’t wanna go down that hole again, woo. if you’re so curious ask him yourself. i don’t care and i honestly don’t wanna know.”

“okay. i won’t ask.” wooyoung says in defense. he has a sixth sense, and his sense is telling him that maybe something is wrong with yunho, or maybe he wants to try to give you the closure you deserve. though he already gave you closure— just not the kind you expected from someone you’ve loved for 6 years.

but a part of you really wanted to know why he called. a little portion of your heart still aches for yunho, but you’re healing, remember?

the phone call ends after small talk, and you stare at yunho’s contact info for 7 minutes. you open messages and read the last message he sent you. you have him blocked, but you know it’s his number.

May 19th, 2021 at 3:21AM

*You have new messages from (***)***-**** *

(***)***-****: baby, i’m so sorry.

(***)***-****: you won’t ever forgive me, but i’ve changed. my star, my love, my moon, my sun.

(***)***-****: i can’t sleep anymore.

(***)***-****: i’ll leave you alone, okay?

December 10th, 2022 at 1:21AM

(***)***-****: i can’t live without you.

(***)***-****: it’s been so fucking long

(***)***-****: js need to see ur face. keep staring at the same pic but it was so long ago

(***)***-****: my messages are green, why are they green?

(***)***-****: i met someone today, his name started with an M but i can’t remember what his name was

(***)***-****: he’s helping me heal. ik i don’t deserve to heal but i wanna be better bc u deserve better

(***)***-****: i wanna be the one for u my love

(***)***-****: i fucked up but pls believe me when i say i’ll change for u bb

(***)***-****: i’m going to sleep, goodnight my angel

January 8, 2023 at 7:08PM

(***)***-****: everythibg remjnds me of u baby

(***)***-****: ur everywhere i go

(***)***-****: ur everything i see

(***)***-****: mingi won’t let me live diwn what i did to u

(***)***-****: i deserve to fucking die

(***)***-****: i really lost u

Today at 10:32PM

(***)***-****: i still miss you, my love.

(***)***-****: want you to carry my children and be in my life forever.

(***)***-****: i’ve bettered myself. i’ve changed, please let me see you again.

*seen*

shortly after you open his book of messages, your phone rings.

*2 missed calls from (***)***-**** *

———————

you watch your phone ring twice, your heart dropping 6 times over, you didn’t think he would be this bad about it, but maybe he aches for you the same way you ache for him.

maybe yunho is sorry. maybe he changed and maybe he wants to be with you again.

your phone rings again, the same phone number showing up, as your shaky hands press the green button.

silence. the first 8 seconds is silent as yunho tries to process and come up with what he’ll say to you.

he tried calling you for 3 years on end, you’d blocked him. he was so used to your voicemail being the only thing left of you to heal him.

“h-hello?” there it is. the voice you refused to hear for almost 4 years, its there. it’s no longer only in your head, it’s his voice on the other side of the 7 inch screen against your ear.

his voice makes your stomach twist and turn, your hands sweating as your chest forms a hole within itself.

“you don’t need to say anything, just listen to me, hm? you can hang up any second you want, but if your heart still aches for me the way mine does for you, you’d listen.

my love. i’ve ruined you and tore you to shreds. i don’t even know where i begin. you are the most precious thing that has ever happened to me. the minute you entered my life, i took you for granted and fucked up. i didn’t realize how much i loved you or how much you meant to me until you left. that night is a blur to me, you didn’t deserve any of that. you deserve to be treated like royalty, you deserve to be treated in the most beautiful and enchanting way because that is how you made me feel. but i went and fucked that up for the both of us. i didn’t mean what i said to you. i was drunk but that’s no excuse to talk to you the way i did. it’s not right. it never was.

the only time i ever find myself doing right is when i beat myself up for doing you wrong.

i stay at the same apartment, san comes over and does whatever he needs to do but i haven’t touched a drug since you left me. the minute you left was the minute i decided to better myself. mingi is helping me be the person i want to be for you. my god, i hate myself for everything ive done to you. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, i know you won’t give it to me. but i want you to know that i still am here and i still love you. i love you better and i love you the way you deserve.

are you still with me, y/n?”

he breathes. you breathe. you finally breathe.

“i- yunho. i don’t know how to feel about any of this, you really hurt me and i can’t trust anyone anymore. you fucked my best friends, in our room. i don’t even know why i even looked at my phone or why i even answered san when he called me. i’m doing better, but you calling me again is really making me feel like i’m falling down that hole again.” you try your hardest to not let him hear you grow weak to his confession. his heart caved in, and his stomach grew empty when you’d brought up his mistake.

“i understand. i won’t push or do anything to make you uncomfortable. but, i want to have coffee with you, or one of us can come over and we can talk about this, hm?”

you sigh. you felt like all the healing and all the self care you’ve been doing is going straight down the drain.

but do you wanna listen to what he has to say?

“i’m free tomorrow afternoon. but i can’t stay long.” is all you say. you don’t wanna keep this conversation going, nor do you even want to talk about this at all. you are growing selfish; only wanting to see yunho because you miss the attention you used to get from him.

“as long as i get to see you, its okay. i look forward to talking to you, y/n. been waiting forever. is 4:30 fine with you?” he sniffles and lets out a calm chuckle from within his throat.

he’s aching just as much as you are.

“yes. goodnight, yunho.”

“goodnight, star.” that nickname. the same nickname that dragged you into his lore. he speaks lightly. the phone call ends and he sounds like an angel, making your head spin and your heart confused.

you don’t know whether to trust yunho again because, maybe, he is sorry. maybe he wants to make things right with you.

for the rest of the night, you cannot sleep. you don’t decide on going tomorrow, you really don’t want to face yunho after what he did to you. after 4 hours of tossing and turning, rereading texts from yunho, drinking water, and listening to nothing but the buzzing in your ear, you finally manage to get sleep.

—————————————————————————————

first fic!! yay!! i know yall are gonna hate yunho because what he did to y/n is trash and ass and all of the above. i hope you guys start to understand yunho further in the story. idk what im gonna do with this fic but i hope i come up with part 2 in a timely manner cus i dont want it to be dragged lol. but!!!!!!!!!! i hope you all like this fic just as much as i HATE it 😋

#Spotify #kpop smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #kpop #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #jung yunho #m: yunho #yunho fluff #SoundCloud

[weebsinstash]

consider; multiverse shenanigans with a spider!reader where they make some offhand comment about how their heat/rut is coming up soon and they'll need some volunteers to cover patrols while they're down and half the society is like 'o damn that sucks, yeah i can swing a tuesday' and the other half is like 'your WHAT is coming up???'

and it turns out that a decent chunk of the multiverse has no idea what a/b/o orientations even are and it somehow just got totally lost in translation until that very second that this was a thing. what do you mean omega???? what the fuck do you mean you just thought i was a really boring smelling beta?????????? y'all motherfuckers are SNIFFING PEOPLE?!?!?!?!

now consider a miguel that is not from an a/b/o verse hearing about this and doing a little research to figure out exactly what a heat/rut is and just getting sucked down a rabbit hole and going feral for the idea that you're going to be in a highly suggestible and vulnerable state for nearly a WEEK and he's going to miss it!!! he didn't get invited!!!! what the fuck!!! the man spends a solid 48 hrs immersed in really bad multiversal porn and comes out the other end hungover and weeping that he nearly missed out on this

so he takes it upon himself to do a little rearranging, some scheduling, some scheming, and lo and behold you find yourself stuck in this crappy half-built nest in nueva york with miguel, who has no real idea how he's supposed to actually perform for you while ur like this and is just making it up as he goes- and totally ignoring the cultural and consent issues he's digging up doing this bc its biology right? so its fine? people in ur universe do this all the time, he has no idea why ur complaining just let him help u out jeez-

Some rando Spiderperson intending to be transphobic: --and they want us to accept everyone as whatever they say they wanna be now, as if men can get pregnant!

Reader, without skipping a beat: what the actual fuck are you talking about, my father carried me and my siblings for 6 months

Miguel is just starting to know you and is actively trying to learn more about you and one day you just, I dunno, you two do a mission together and he gives you praise and you just look at him with a big smile 😊 and your ass straight up PURRS for a few moments and he's just like 🥺❤️ gatito... ❤️

The man sees you talking to Jess and Peter B one day and O'Hara is watching from a distance because he's, awkward and not sure how to approach you, and suddenly his super hearing can pick up someone in the room talking idly about you, or even explaining ABO stuff to another person. "Yeah, see em over there, holding Peter Bs kid? Those Omega always have nurturing instincts. It's cause they're wired to spit out tons of babies. They're the breeders. They even have natutal pheromones to calm down their mates and friends and children" and suddenly Miguel's ears are burning "youre tellin me my darling might wants lots of little babies running around? Fantastic."

Mexican/Irish and also Catholic Miguel who wants one of those STUPID HUGE families where people have at least 6 kids and it's like "oh a typical Omega pregnancy usually has at least two or three babies in one go and theyre shorter than normal human pregnancies huh? Interesting :)"

Some members of the Spider Society are like "why is Miguel kind of lowkey being a dick to me all the time now" oh well its very simple you see, Miguel read your file and found out you're an Alpha and you share this weird connection and also natural biological attraction to HIS lil honeybee and He Hates You Now. Fuck off out his house and don't let him see you talking to his baby or else

He gets really close to you one day, I mean like physically, or hey maybe emotionally too, and he's hugging you and he gets a whiff of your scent and it's something he can't even describe, something that has a carnal biological effect on his where he just wants to keep holding you and hearing your voice like a drug, like it's oxytocin on crack, and suddenly in true scientist fashion he's researching you, your universe, its history, its medicine, its culture.

Can't help but imagine a Miguel who goes full yandere and gives no fucks about doing what he wants for darling and splices his DNA with Alpha DNA so he can officially claim you as a mate, scenting, knotting, and everything. Lyla gives you instructions to meet him in a specific place and it turns out he's been experimenting on himself and he's deep in a rut and suddenly your knees are getting pushed into your chest and you're getting passionately knotted and filled up by a grunting growling purring Miguel who's leaving love bites and kisses all over your skin, just, his size alone would make him hard to get away from, you don't even need to add Alpha instincts and being able to track your pheromones on top of that 😳

Miguel "just let me 'help you as a friend'" O'Hara who tracked when your next heat was going to kick in and maybe even drugged you so it comes at a specific time and he makes it where the two of you are together or even trapped or something when it happens and, here he is, "oh just let me help you, isn't it hurting" but like. We all know it's because he wants to. Like could you even imagine he's, you know, using his fingers and he goes to remove his pants or free himself or whatever and you're just like "no I'll get pregnant" and he just kind of has a Microsoft error window in his brain because it's like. Oh you'll get almost DEFINITELY pregnant? Guaranteed? You're trying to tell the man you dont want to and instead at least internally he's like "promise? 👉👈"

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere stuff #sinprompts #miguel o'hara x reader

[nexusnyx]

use all of me

Joel Miller x F!Reader [5k] Summary: He knows this is all that most people have got now—shallow encounters to satisfy their loud hollowness. The thing is, Joel thinks you two use each other in more than one way. 📝 I had this idea because @teleiomania (my baby) was babbling about showers together, so here we are. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated if you like this piece of work. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. canon-typical topics— war, PTSD, violence, death, depression, drugs & alcohol consumption... etc. proceed with caution. | 🏷️ Tess x Reader (Platonic), penetration (fingering, p in v), dirty talk, cumming inside, unprotected sex, choking, established 'situationship', showering together, hurt/comfort, talks of the past, 10 years past the outbreak.

masterlist | read on ao3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤSeptember 26, 2013.

Long-distance communication no longer existed inside the QZ. Joel felt kind of happy about that.

He hated the ringing of his phone with the same burning passion he hated people who half-assed a job. Back then, he wished phones no longer existed at least once every single day. Now, he only accepts the crowding murmurs of everything that surrounds them—the yelling, crying, bombing, shots fired, and fire crackling of it all. The war of it all.

In the quietude, Joel thought about intimacy a lot. For some reason.

It was the first thing he noticed, maybe, when it all went to shit ten years ago. How nothing would be private anymore. Individual. Real.

Intimate.

Joel became what everyone else, without a single exception, resulted after the outbreak: a shell of something. For him, there was no room there for intimacy. There just wasn't. Intimacy was a luxury, and for him, being alive meant Joel couldn't afford luxuries.

Which is why he's confused with himself when he ends up at your door, today of all days.

"She needs you, Joel," he thinks. That's why you're here, you dumbass. Three words plus your name, and here. You. Are.

Tommy might've gotten the 'trouble kid' gene, but that apparently didn't exclude Joel from the same level of utter stupidity.

Being somewhere other than his own relocated shoe-box of an apartment with a bottle of booze and a couple of pills in his pocket was mental. But—she needs you. That's what Tess had said. No sugar coating.

For someone like Tess who never lies or dramatizes over something, saying need got him to go.

Joel doesn't knock.

It's past two in the morning, and considering Tess was at his house only an hour ago talking about 'how goddamn lucky she is I like her and found her ass before someone else did', you must be awake.

A second goes by, but he's frozen in front of your door without being able to knock.

What if she's hurt?

No. Tess would never send him somewhere he'd have to deal with that type of thing, not without a warning.

Also—she would never leave you hurt and alone.

Tess loved you. Joel knew that from the second he met you.

So what was he doing here?

He lifted his hand to knock, but something comes first.

Your voice from the other side of the door. "I can hear someone breathin'. Asshole." She sounds off. That's the first thing Joel thinks. In a sort of whispered voice laced with enough poison to threaten a whole team, you go on. "If you're thinkin' about barging inside because I live alone, you're makin' a huge mistake."

When he met you three years ago, Joel's initial perception of you had been: What an angel-lookin'—and that had been interrupted when he caught your eyes.

Only an angel if she's the Lightbringer. So much beauty. So much darkness.

You looked like an angel, and you didn't. Sure, you were one of the most gorgeous things to still exist, but—it was all in the eyes. The fire. The will to kill.

"Joel, this is my close friend I was telling you about," Tess had introduced. "She's the one they're after. If you wanna know something, she's got the answer."

Alexandria. It wasn't your name, but how you were called in the streets.

The library full of knowledge that no longer was.

The girl who got him the intel he needed. Who found the radio-tower man who had a price. Who said, "I'm a woman, Joel. Call me 'girl' again and I'll shove this barrel up your ass."

Did he stand any chance of not being roped in whatever this was?

Of not ending up by the other side of your door at three in the fucking morning because, apparently, you 'need' him?

"Listen here, you dumb fuck, if you—"

Joel speaks up, finally finding his voice. "It's me, woman. Can you open up?"

The door swings open in less than five seconds, and Joel's stomach falls to his dirty boots the moment it does.

You frown, eyeing him up and down as if to check that it's really him. "'the fuck are you doin' here?" you ask, dropping your head on your hand holding the door.

Drugged.

You're drugged out of your mind.

Joel pushes past you and closes the door with a hand above your head, "Tess," he offers as an explanation.

His mind is reeling. In these past three years, he'd never seen you look anything less than composed. Put together. With seriousness tattoed all over your face, deadpanned eyes set to judge everything around.

Alcohol, the last easily available safe boat for the piss-poor humans condemned to continuing through this nightmare of a time, had never touched your lips.

Not in meetings, not after work, not even in the times when you, Tess, and Joel all hung around one of your apartments.

Yet, here you are.

Barely able to look up at him.

"What did you take?" he asks.

Your movements are slowed down. He'd recognized something was wrong in your voice at first. Without any scent of alcohol present, it's the only logic for the way your eyes look and your body moves.

You put your fingers together. "This big. It was white."

"You don't know?" he asks, trying to keep in his goddamn panic.

"Nope," you pop the 'p', and then stumble your way away from the door. "It was from Tess' suply. The hidden one in the box."

"Should I ask how you know about my hidden stack?"

You turn around, almost falling in the process. "It was yours?" the way your voice blurs around the edges of the words is making his stomach queasy. Fuck. "'m sorry, Joel. Didn't know that. I'll pay you back, don't worry—"

"Pay me back?! I don't want your money, Alexandria."

"Then what do you want?" you look confused as you ask it.

Just how you looked when you opened the door to see him.

What the hell do you want here, Joel?

She needs you, Joel.

He didn't know.

Joel rubbed a hand all over his face, wondering why the fuck Tess would think he can help at all. Today, of all days.

"Ah," your exclamation pulls his eyes to fall back on you, who's observing him leaning against the counter that separates the living room from the kitchen. "You are here because Tess went to your house." You scoff. "Silly, silly Tess."

He's trying to think. He can't look or rationalize past the sight of you.

The oldest clothes you were handed hanging loosely from your frame. Your hair which is usually tied up or at least somewhat okay is a mess. The droopy eyes with heavy blinks.

You start shaking your head. "Joel," you call.

"What?"

"Go home, Joel," you whisper. Softly. Sounding like the version of you he's most familiar with. "'m fine. It's—" you don't lie two times in a row. Never could. Still can't. "Dunno why she thought bothering you would be nice. That wasn't nice of her. 'm gonna have a little word with Theresa tomorrow. Bothering you—" now you're rambling, walking to the kitchen while Joel tries to finish processing this. All of this. "As if we don't all just wanna be alone today. Why would she—y'know what, if live through wasn't a rule, I'd go there right now to fucking... slap her. Or somethin'. Jesus fuck, where's the fucking bottle of—aha!"

"Is this what you do?"

He wasn't sure why he asks. Is this your routine for today. For the anniversary of The Day When It All Went to Fuck. He needed to know.

Only your head pops up above the counter, "Yup," you say before disappearing again. "Drugs and alcohol. Best clutches for the mind."

Not true, he thought. "I usually just drink 'till I pass out."

"Ohhh, no, no, no—" you laugh, full body appearing again but now with two bottles that you place on the counter while shaking your head. "Passing out is bad."

Joel discovered that after the third year. "The nightmares, right?"

"Right."

"You just stay up all day?" he asks.

"All day," you nod. The darkness that usually resides deep in the back of your eyes as a sign and promise of danger seems to be around you like a cloak. You smile without any happiness. "It's not gonna be pretty, Joel." With a dry chuckle, you open the bottle. "Again. Dunno why she bothered you. 's okay to go home."

Suddenly, home is the last place he wants to be.

He'll think about what he always does every September twenty-sith. Waking up, he should've drank more orange juice. He should've bought the stuff for pancakes the day before. He should've kissed her goodbye. Should've made more jokes with Tommy. Should've never ever gotten back only at ten, and without the cake to top it all. Bailing Tommy out would've always happened, but they should've gone to a different path.

Should've, should've, should've.

The exact same thoughts plagued his mind for an entirety of a decade, and on the 26th, they played like a broken record.

Fuck that, he thought.

You were already sipping the bottle for the second time when he answers.

"What if now I don't wanna go home?"

Your movement falters for a moment, then the bottle lands with a soft click on the wood. "Joel..."

"I don't give a fuck about 'pretty', Alexandria," he hated using your nickname instead of your real name, but it was a thing between you two. He called you Alexandria as if he was just like everybody else, and you went—

"Well, if that's the case, old man, hang around for the shitshow for as long as you'd like."

Old men.

He snorted. "Only if you pass the bottle."

You sighed so deeply he almost believed your theatricals when you said, "I'm gonna have to endure you all day and share my booze? Couldn't you have brought yours if you were gonna crash my pity party?"

"I wasn't aware it was a pity part," he says, planting both hands on his hips.

You fake gasp. "It wasn't in the invite?"

"No. Your event manager forgot to put it."

"I'm gonna fuckin' fire that incompetent bitch," you mutter, sitting on one of your stools.

You two share a look, and, if this were any other day, you two would laugh.

There's only enough room in both of you for a quiet, subdued smile.

Then, you ask, "You sure?" in a quiet voice.

Joel walks until he's standing next to you.

He's not one for affectionate gestures, but he lifts a hand to hold your face for a moment. "'m sure," he's not sure about a lot of things anymore, but this feels sure. "I'd just have my own pity party at home. Yours has drugs."

"I took 'em all," your smile widens a little. Tugs in the corner, fighting against all the grief.

"Damn it, girl."

You poke a finger right in his ribs, making him wince in pain, but he holds onto your face.

"I'll be a shitshow, too," he warns, caressing his thumb on your cheek.

One side of his brain is yelling about why on Earth would he stay, while the other is quiet as the streets after dark.

"Promise?" you ask with a sad laugh.

"Oh, for sure." Joel sighs. "I'll cry at some point. I don't—I stayed away from everyone, too. It's ok if you wanna tell me to go home at any point."

You nod. "'kay. Feel free from the pressure of being obliged to stay because Mother Theresa asked you to."

"She didn't ask for anythin', actually." All she had to do was say three words. "Just mentioned you were naked, that's all."

This time, your laugh is good. "You say this shit but when I'm trying to climb you in three hours you'll be all 'not when you're drunk, y'know that'."

He rolls his eyes, pushing down a smile. "Shut up." He avoids your eyes as he leans down to press his mouth on yours. It tastes like you, and everything in Joel vibrates a little. "You don't mind, right? That I stay?" he checks for the last time.

When he pulls back, your arms wrap around his waist and you lean closer to him, eyeing him from under your lashes like you did so many times before.

Only—he never saw this look before.

Something shines in your eyes—something akin to the memory of lemon cake in the roof of his mouth; gratitude. The response to being so, so thankful that all you can do is look.

(Later, he'll recall that the lemon cakes came from his grandmother.

His first golden, sparkling memory of intimacy in childhood. The way she simply knew lemon cake was his favorite, and whenever he did something to please her beyond words, she'd bake them. As a silent 'I see you, kid'. Served at the dinner table as dessert for everyone, but with a secret wink thrown his way and the whispered, "I saved you a big piece for later" in his ear.

That's what your big, beautiful eyes rekindled in his memory.

The look on your face as you blinked at him in disbelief, saying "really", eyes shining with the most obvious deep-rooted gratitude, happiness—it tasted like lemon cake, even if just for a moment.)

"I don't mind," you answer after a heartbeat.

He swallows the lump that is no longer beautifully haunted by the taste of childhood and nods. "Unlike your incompetent agent, I live in the same building as you," Joel reminds. "I'll go get the booze at mine. Be right back."

At his place, he grabs his whiskey, a clean pair of underwear for tomorrow morning, his toothbrush and, right before he leaves, on a last whim he opens up the secret place at the back of his third kitchen drawer and grabs two little pills.

Might as well.

He pops one in his mouth before entering your place again and keeps the other safe in his pocket in case you two want to share it later.

You're as out of touch with reality when he comes in as you were before he left.

It's never awkward with you two—the whole reason why Joel's been knowing what goes on inside the mind of the mysterious Alexandria and why he's familiar with the inner workings of your body ever since he met you; it's fluid.

For the most part, the beginning is dark.

You two sit on the rug of your living room with whiskey going back and forth, and very little conversation in between.

While he decides to lay with his back comfortably on the floor, you're moving around the place, satisfying the need of your body for constant movement. You organize the place. Clean it. Empty the secret hide-out of your books and dust them off, only to organize them and put them back in the same place.

Joel helps with none of that, but not for lack of trying.

"You sure you don't wanna any help?" he asked the minute you started, and at least two times more in between.

Your response came with you draping your body over his on the floor until you were snuggled on top, and then lower your head until your mouths were only a breath apart. "No need," you said.

"I'm just gonna lay here?" he asked.

"It's what you like doin'."

"I do like laying down," he mused thoughtfully. Your weight felt nice on him. He was already tipsy, you had cleaned the living room in record time, and your weight felt really, really nice. He hugged your waist and pulled you close. "I like you on top of me."

That giggle was familiar. "I know," you mumbled, mouth sealing on his jawline. "You like it when I'm on top of you," you repeated, rolling your hips in ways that spelled sin as you said 'on top'.

Joel groaned at the feeling. "You have killer thighs."

"It's from riding you 'till the Sun comes up," you nibbled on a sensitive part of his neck, and Joel damned the skies for how fast you got his body responding. Rolling your hips again, fitting yourself on him, you added, "Ridin' you like it's a job. Hmmm—I love my job."

"You had thighs before you started doin' that."

"They got better," your tongue was now on the column of his throat, and Joel had no rebuttal to that. "D'you need a reminder why?"

He was already half hard. Joel looked out of your window where the sky was still jet-black. "Better start now. Sun's gonna rise sometime soon."

Your grin was wicked in all the ways he loved.

The dexterity and coyness you managed to put in your hands left him lying there, watching as your eyes because debauched.

Joel knew what came next.

He saw in the way you closed your eyes and circled your hips over his hardening length that you needed this, wanted it, and in return, his body screamed for it.

Snapping out of his stupor, Joel starts undoing your clothes.

He can enjoy the view and touch the view at the same time.

Having you on top was mesmerizing for countless reasons, and Joel took pleasure on each one of them. He got to see as the first drop of sweat made it’s slow way down your body. He watched it, transfixed, as it slid through your boobs and—he couldn’t only stare.

Magnets pulling him to you were always there, and he’s lifting his upper body to lick that drop when he comes to realize it.

You on top means Joel gets to witness you taking charge. It’s how he learned what you like—how fast and how deep you like it.

When all the clothes are thrown somewhere across the living room, he lets you wrap your arms around his neck. Loved when one of your hand grips him by the neck because unlike other people, you know how to squeeze. How to choke him until he’s gasping for air—that’s when you line his cock with your wet cunt and push it in, making his next gasp be out loud.

You’re a Succubus.

Reading his body like an open book since day one, you always pulled the most medieval instincts from him. Parts of his brain that no one dared to touch or look at before; you enjoyed poking your finger in them even if they bled. You’d lick the red clean, if that happened.

Joel moaned underneath you for more than one reason.

“Fuck—why d’you sound like that—sound so good, Joel,” you cried, hips speeding up.

Joel forgot words. All he knew was how deep and how hard he was inside of you.

If words were needed, you forgot about it, too, because soon it’s all hands, and mouth, and saliva and sweat and that filthy, incredible sound filling the room—

He moans your name.

“Joel,” you moan back. He’s done for.

Point Joel to a place where your head is thrown back, exposing the glowing skin of your neck painted in red crimson blush, and he’ll point to his favorite hide out.

It’s always good. “Feels so good, gorgeous girl, my god—a little faster, c’mon,” he urges.

Guiding you to lose yourself is his favorite explorer activity. All the ways he can plant his feet on the floor, the angles that he can fuck himself into you until you’re babbling utter nonsense on his neck and begging him to cum inside you.

Joel loves the feeling of release, but it’s made better when your body is shaking with his.

He sometimes needs to put his fingers between the two of you and rub your clit to bring you to the edge, but not this time—not with this angle.

Your whines and cry on his shoulder make everything sweet and quiet.

Nothing ever feels quite as good as this, anymore. Nothing comes close to the numbing feeling of feeling himself soften inside of you, twitch inside the tight core of your cunt.

Joel sighs against your hair, and kisses your face as you pull back from his chest.

"'m gonna shower," you mumble.

He nods, watching you closely. When your hand moves between joined bodies, Joel realizes you're about to pull him out so you can keep his release in other than dripping down your legs. Something pulls at his arms like strings on a puppet and he's wrapping his hand around your wrist before you get to it, "Hold on," he says. "Let me."

The moan you let out when he grazes his knuckles on your folds make him wish he was twenty year olds again. "Joel—"

"I'll clean you up," he says. He always did.

You shake your head, but you're smiling just a little. "No need. Shower's faster."

"I'll shower you," he replies stubbornly. He likes when you laugh at his 'old man tendencies', as you like to call it. "C'mon'."

He pulls out with a hiss, and wishes again for a time-machine when he sees the blissed-out look on your face. He keeps his hand in position and shoves two fingers inside of you when his cock is free, rejoicing in the way you just drop your head on his shoulder.

He's carried backpacks heavier than you, but getting up from the floor with you in his arms is a task.

You start laughing when he grunts with the effort.

"Shut up," he pinches your ass.

Your laughter subdues slowly, and you only get down from his hold when you two are already inside the shower.

He's getting his body wet when you stand up straight and, "Hold on," you dash out of the curtain and the bathroom, wet and naked to run out of the room.

"What the fuck," he mutters to himself.

You come back with the whiskey bottle. Joel laughs at you.

"Unbelievable," he comments.

You scoff at him, bringing the thing inside and placing it with the shampoo and conditioner. "You say that now but when you're sipping it, you'll call me a genius."

"We'll see about that."

"We will," to make a good point of being the brat that you are, you sip the alcohol, pouting and making a face at the taste. "Fuck."

"Have you eaten?" he wonders.

"Today? You've been with me all day, duh."

"You've been awake for longer than the time we've been together," he replies, knowing better than to bite every teasing bait you put out there. This is how people get in trouble with you—they can't read your cues and interpret the ironies.

You hum. "Hmmmm. Good question."

Joel rolls his eyes. You're difficult on a daily basis. Drugged with god knows what and drinking?

He's about to have a long day.

(He wonders if he should be feeling burdened by that fact. If he should be feeling something negative—reprehension, tension, awkwardness, anything, anything. Nothing comes.)

Joel grabs the shampoo and turns you around without asking.

If there's one thing you've always been, it's willing in his hands.

He washes your hair in the silence of your bathroom.

The only window is a palm above his eye height, and it's starting to let in a sapphire-blue light that makes everything look like a hazy dream one has when vacationing at the beach. Blue, and watery, and distant. Peaceful in ways that cities far from the coast will never be.

You two have always used each other.

Used one another for sex, for business, for killing time, for sex during the business, with the excuse of killing time.

Never for this. Never like this.

There's a specific intimacy in the act of letting a woman put her hands on his hair that he's never known before. Joel allows you to wash his hair back with his eyes closed, and his chest surprisingly calm. No storms just yet.

You two talk in hushed tones.

Bathrooms make acoustic sound different and he hears every breath you take.

The whiskey bottle goes back and forth, and Joel finds out that letting the same person who's touched every fucking inch of his body without exaggeration is not the same as letting those same two hands gather soap and enough bubble to coat him in a layer of clean, citrus-like scent, washing his skin with reverent patience and tenderness that brings it out on him.

Joel cries.

It starts silently. You're doing his back when he feels the sting in his eyes, and by the time you're done with his legs, he's hiccuping for breath.

You only notice when you stand in front of him again to push him underneath the stream, and instead of saying anything, you just look.

The hug is unexpected.

You two never hugged before.

You've cuddled, fucked, licked, fought, worked together—but never hugged.

It makes his sobs go from silent to filling the whole bathroom. Each tile is painted with a flood of tears he's unable to stop.

During that time — which he's unsure how long it lasts — Joel feels your hands tracing circles on his nape, and your body hugging him with all the strength that it has.

You're good at it.

Firm, and bigger than you look. You envelop Joel, and his head laid on your neck feels like it's found a safe place to wail like a baby.

Eventually, it ends.

All you do is offer him whiskey when he pulls back, and rub his face with your dainty hands.

The shower continues, and Joel is riddled with so many thoughts that his head hurts.

"C'mon, you do me," you tell him.

Joel grabs the bar of soap and does as he's told, grateful for something other than his mind to focus on.

It's washing your body that his favorite topic returns to him.

Intimacy.

The thing that's like diamonds, or safe places—they exist, but we'll never know anymore where they are.

Something unattainable. A luxury.

This woman's been in his life for three years, and Joel's known her in ways he never knew a person before.

The apocalypse will do that—it'll put you in positions that make you know a person. Their worth or lack thereof.

Joel respected you. Very few people had that, these days. You. Tess.

He knows your body like the back of his hand—actually, the idiom falls short. Joel knows your body better than he knows his own, and yet, he never knew how good of a hugger you are.

That realization is mental. He wants to know you.

No—he needed to know you.

He would. He was changing this, somehow.

The question slips from his tongue, "Did you ever like shower sex?"

You don't turn around—you spin. "What?" A smile is already creeping on the corners of your mouth.

He shrugs, "Just a question."

"Is it?" you look down to his cock—it's soft, and god forbid you ever listen to a thought of his, but he's in his forties and this is harder than it used to be. It still twitches when you lick your lips, and fucking hell.

Succubus. "It is," he puts the soap next to the whiskey and turns you back around to finish washing you. "Aren't you gonna answer?"

"Slow down, old man, I'm trying to stop my brain from creating ten different scenarios where we're fucking in here and—"

The sharp and loud slap on your ass makes you yelp, "Just answer the question, girl."

"I didn't, but! I also never had Joel Miller in the same shower as me, sooo..."

"Did you like going to the movies?"

"What is this, Twenty Questions with Joel?"

"It can be," he answers simply. "We'll be bored. We have all day. And you're clean now."

"So you want us to get dirty again?" you ask, turning around with that glint in your eyes.

He laughs. "Get under the water." You obey, and Joel tries to push down the feeling of being stupid with this inquisitory when—

"I think shower sex is unpractical, it goes against the logic, and every partner of mine that started dating me already knew that 'cause I tried it once and made sure to tell people on dates, you know when we get to the point where we talk about sex? Yeah, so—I always told them there and then that I didn't like it," you ramble in one single breath.

He takes it all in. "Never once wanted it?"

Your smile is kind of contagious. "I was being a dick, but also not. I never did, until..." the look you give him makes him realize—there is no damn point leaving the shower again.

Joel takes you against the tiles with the water hitting his back and you moaning around his digits.

Once, he asked you why you seemed to like his hands so much. Your reply never left his brain.

"They're big. And... strong. And I like the comfort they give me. They've touched me, and held me, and choked me—they've killed too, but that only makes them real. I'm mumblin' nonsense. They're pretty, Joel. I like how pretty you are."

The words said in the comfort of darkness are all he thinks about as the first rays of sunshine beam on this damned day.

Maybe intimacy wasn't a luxury. Maybe it was a necessity.

Vital.

Maybe you were vital.

Together, you two would get through the day, no matter how ugly it would be.

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[kokoch4n3l]

˗ˏˋ the wreckage of the world ࿐ྂ “that must be so confusing for a little girl”

summary: getting high after Hinata and Takemichi's wedding was a great idea. all four of them were single as hell and what better than to get smoke the loneliness away. that is until the topic of the past comes up

pairing: baji, kazutora, chifuyu x f!oc (platonic), (kind of)izana x oc

notes: takes place during the final timeline. lol basically everything I wished to hear so this is 100% a self-insert. my life story in a fic cuz all of what happened to oc happened to me lol. written in third person

warning: recreational drug use(marijuana), alcohol use, intoxication, shotgunning, friends with benefits(Izana), suggestive talk, mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of child abuse(kazutora), mentions of domestic abuse(kazutora's mom), mentions of vomiting, description of verbal abuse, manipulation, past toxic relationship, platonic kissing, platonic cuddling

word count: 2146

“I’m so fuckin’ single” Kazutora whines, sprawling across the floor of Baji’s bedroom 

The air is filled with odd-smelling smoke and the scent of alcohol. “This taste like shit” She mutters and takes a huge gulp of the wine straight from the bottle

“Why are you drinking it then?” Baji asks and grabs it from her and takes a chug himself 

Chifuyu on the other hand, looked on the verge of tears as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. He often looked like that lately. Ever since Hinata and Takemichi’s wedding had been confirmed he always looked like he was zoning out, dreaming. Was he sad? Maybe. He looked more relieved like he couldn’t believe what was happening. Like… Like he lived lifetimes. But that was a stupid thought so she didn’t think too much about it. Chifuyu had always been the sentimental type anyway. No doubt he’d get emotional when Takemichi was now married. She looks around at all three of them, Kazutora holding a joint, Baji taking sips straight out of the wine bottle and Chifuyu also with a joint. “You guys need to get partners” She says shaking sprawling and moving closer to Chifuyu to break him out of whatever trance he was in “This is just sad”

“Says you” Baji mutters “Single ass mother fucker"

“Fuck off” she mumbles and reaches over to Chifuyu for the joint but he moves his hand over and leans into her instead

At reflex, she parts her lips and Chifuyu’s lightly brush against hers before he exhales smoke into her mouth and she inhales, holds it and then exhales. “Fuck that was hot,” Kazutora says with a sigh, passing the joint to Baji, and trading it for the bottle “We might as well date each other”

Chifuyu laughs. “Izana won’t be too happy about that”

That catches Baji and Kazutora’s attention. “Shut the fuck up,” Baji says “no fuckin’ way!”

“Out of all the Sano siblings you had to choose the crazy one?” Kazutora says sitting up, almost dropping the bottle “bitch I swear to god”

“Fuck off” she mutters and grabs the bottle from him “It’s nothing serious”

“Didn’t seem like nothing serious with the way he was looking at you at the wedding” Chifuyu teases as she takes a large gulp from the bottle

“Shut up I didn’t know this. You’ve been fucking holding out on us!” Baji hisses, exhaling a cloud of smoke

Their eyes are heavy and red-rimmed, movements are a bit slow. “No, I haven’t” She grumbles and kicks Baji in the thigh which wasn’t as hard as she wanted and more of a tap than an actual kick “It’s nothing serious I swear… We just… Y’know…”

“YOU GUYS ARE FUCKING?!” The three of them yell at the same time and she groans, her cheeks turning red

Her flushed cheeks were enough for them to know their assumption was right and income the questions. She and Izana started off as really more of a drunken spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. It was really an accident. But, Izana was good. Like really good— which started their whole friends-with-benefits relationship. “He’s lowkey scary though” she says trading the bottle with the joint from Chifuyu

“And you’re into that shit,” Chifuyu says rolling his eyes and taking a sip of the wine then making a face at the taste “This actually tastes like shit. Who got Rosé?”

“Fuck off I like it” Baji grumbles and grabs the bottle from him

“Doesn’t matter if I’m into that shit” She mutters and takes a drag from the joint, laying her head on Chifuyu’s lap “We’re not serious”

Chifuyu flicks her forehead and she purposely exhales onto his face. “He looks serious though” He says

“Awe fuck, does this mean no more shotgunning?” Kazutora says with a pout, exhaling a cloud of smoke

Baji kicks him. “Obviously fuckin’ not unless you want that crazy motherfucker to kill you and then us”

She groans. “I just said we aren’t serious” She grabs Chifuyu by the collar of his dress shirt and pulls him down, blowing smoke into his mouth which he gladly inhales

“Oh~ Chifuyu~. Izana’s gonna kill you now” Kazutora says teasingly while moving closer “Both of you be kissin’ the most”

“Shut up” Chifuyu grumbles and takes the joint from her “Why don’t you wanna make things serious? Sure he’s crazy but he doesn’t seem that bad unless he’s got side hoes or something”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment and just looks up at Chifuyu from where she’s lying on his lap. She doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. But maybe the alcohol and the weed-induced high was making her lose-lipped. “What if he hurts me?”

Her words make them laugh. “You think Mikey won’t beat his white-haired ass?” Baji asks her and Chifuyu and Kazutora start to laugh even harder

But when she doesn’t laugh or even smile like she usually does, they get worried. She has a distant look on her face as if she’s thinking about the past. She looks… sad. “Hey” Chifuyu says snapping his fingers in front of her face after exhaling a cloud of smoke “Has Izana ever hurt you?”

She shakes her head no. “He’s not like that… He’s nice… He’s nice to me”

Kazutora is leaning over her now as she lays in Chifuyu’s lap. “Then what was up with the question? If he’s nice to you then…”

Abuse was a sore topic for Kazutora. He got sensitive about it quickly especially since it was something he went through as a kid and what he watched his mother go through. It still affected him somewhat but he was mostly over it now. However there were times when his past would get the best of him like the other day when it looked like Draken was yelling at Emma and was about to hit her, Kazutora punched him across the face. Needless to say, the conversation after had been pretty tear-shedding (mostly from Emma and Shinichiro). “He’s nice,” She says quietly “I just… I dunno…”

“It’s not I dunno if you’re bringing it up,” Baji says and puts the bottle down, also moving closer to them “You’re clearly afraid of something”

Oh, how she hated her friends for knowing exactly what she was thinking. Baji grabs her by the shoulders and makes her sit up. Now she’s completely surrounded by the three of them. The joints were burned out, they’re high and very drunk. But maybe she needed to be a bit more drunk to finally have this conversation with them after years of running from it. “Remember back in 11th grade… we were all busy… I didn’t see you guys for months?” she asks them grabbing the bottle and taking a swing from it despite the gross taste

They all nod and wait for her to continue. “I had a boyfriend for like 9 months… I think he hated me”

They’re shocked. Clearly, they don’t know what to say. She thinks the same. Had any of her friends said the exact same sentence word for word to her she wouldn’t know what to say either. “What… what the fuck you can’t just leave it like that” Chifuyu says, his voice slightly slurring and nudges her “elaborate”

She shrugs and takes a swing from the bottle. “He wasn’t always like that. Like he didn’t always hate me… I think… He was nice and we started dating. Then 3 months in he suddenly started getting really weird. He didn’t like what I wore, how I acted, he didn’t like my hair—”

“What the— why wouldn’t he like your hair?” Baji asks clearly angry now “I love your hair. What a fuckin fucktard”

She doesn’t say anything. Chifuyu reaches his hand over and runs a hand through her curly strands and silently urges her to continue. “He-he never hit me or anything like that. He was just mean all the time… I dunno I just… He hated everything about me and I dunno why” her words start to slur as the alcohol hits “He hated me so much… I was with him for 9 months… took me 3 out of the 9 to leave him.. Was so scared…”

They don’t say anything for a moment. Kazutora reaches over and grabs her free hand. The room is now completely silent. She just sits there in the middle of them on the floor holding the wine bottle. Finally, Baji speaks up first. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He asks “We could have helped or I dunno, beat his fuckin’ ass”

She chews at her bottom lip nervously and clutches the bottle a bit tighter. “Was scared… Thought you guys would blame me… He never hit me so I thought… I thought…”

She didn’t have to say anything else for them to understand what she meant. Verbal abuse was often overlooked. Not many people considered it even to be abuse. It was sickening and clearly, she had been a victim of it. Oh how horrible the three of them felt. “Why’d you stay so long?” Kazutora asks, his voice quiet as if talking to a crying child

The bottle is pulled from her grasp so she can’t take another gulp out of it. “Um… He kept guilt-tripping me to stay… I guess I kept falling for it” she mumbles and feels ashamed of herself

They don’t know what to say. She doesn’t either. They sit in silence again for a moment till Chifuyu says “you know you didn’t deserve that right?”

She just nods. She knew it. She knew she didn’t. Although sometimes her thoughts got too loud and it did feel like it, she knew that in no world would she ever deserve to be treated that way. “Did… He ever tell you why?” Baji asks

She thinks back to the past and laughs a bit, sounding bitter. “He said I was ‘too perfect’”

They narrow their eyes and at the same time say: “What the fuck?!”

She remembers hearing it come from her ex’s mouth after they broke up. She was apparently too perfect. Perfect grades, perfect family, perfect social life, perfect friends, perfect skin, perfect hair. He hated it. He hated her and her entire existence. Hearing it after they broke up made her angry. How dare he? How fucking dare he do that for some petty reason. Her ex just wanted to be a stain in her so-called perfect life. “That motherfucker” Baji says angrily “What kind of messed up reason is that?”

“Beats me” she mutters then looks at them “We’ve broken up… It’s been years, it’s fine”

It’s clear to them that she no longer wants to talk about it. They can’t help but think that had it not been for their idea to get high and drunk after Takemichi and Hinata’s wedding this topic would have never come up and they would have never known. It’s sickening for them to think anyone could do that to their friend. Their dear friend who is the sweetest girl they knew— who dropped everything for them when they’d get hurt in their youth after stupid gang fights, who would patch them up, who would scold them, who would make them food, who would help them with their homework. Their dear friend who deserved the damn world, the sun, the moon the stars and everything after. Kazutora, Baji and Chifuyu were devastated to hear about this. They somehow end up in a cuddle pile on Baji’s queen sized bed with her somewhat in the middle. “I’m gonna be sweating in the morning” Chifuyu mutters as he is also unfortunately in the middle with her

Kazutora’s arms are wrapped tightly around her middle and her back is pressed against his chest while she’s facing Chifuyu who’s got her head on his bicep. “So uh… Did you really not tell anyone?” Baji asks, his long lanky arms going around both Chifuyu and her

“Uhh… Told Emma…” She says “She was the one that pushed me to leave him and then swore to never tell anyone”

Chifuyu presses a kiss to her forehead, her nose then a soft peck to her lips. “That’s good… At least someone knew… Wish we could have beat his ass though…”

“You think we could find him now and beat him up?” Kazutora suggest, his face pressed into her hair

“No need” she tells them

“What do you means?” Baji asks

“Mikey beat him up… Emma accidentally told him about a month after it ended and Mikey put my ex in the hospital”

“Ohhh~” they say simultaneously 

Chifuyu is gazing at her with a soft expression. He presses another chaste kiss to her lips and Kazutora reaches over her body to smack him. “Izana will rip your face off Chifuyu, no more kissing her” 

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers fandom #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #baji keisuke #kazutora hanemiya #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #baji x reader #kazutora x reader #bajifuyutora

[starlightsearches]

what about “need help getting out of those clothes?” or “god, you have no idea what you do to me.” with eddie???

When It's Raining

Thanks for the request, my love! I'm sorry I got a little carried away 😅 I got this insane urge to write some really, really soft smut, and I was listening to fleetwood mac. You know how it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

4k~ish words

Likes, comments, and reblogs keep me going. Requests are also open 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie's kind of gross, minor drug mentions, some teasing, reader gets stood up 😭, 18+ only, PIV sex, fingering (f), ring kink, safe sex, leetle bit of overstim (m), squirting, it's just a teeny bit awkward, i'm telling on myself with this one, maybe this is too many ideas for one story but fuck it we ball, and I think that's it!

The days are always too slow when it rains.

Eddie's got no commitments, no plans. Nobody was about to hike out into the woods or his trailer when the rain is thick enough to swim in, so he's got no business either. What he has got is a lit cigarette in his mouth (despite Wayne’s warnings against smoking in bed, all because he fell asleep one time), the rain on the trailer roof beating in uneven time, and an excess of thoughts.

He'd tried to drown them out with music, but the record's been spinning quietly for a while now and he couldn't be assed to get up and flip to the other side. Instead, he's chewing on his tongue, thinking about your date.

"I have a date tonight, asshole."

That's what you'd said to him when he called you up at work and begged you to save him from this mind-numbing boredom. When you said you couldn't, he'd made some wise-ass remark—something about how you couldn't have plans when he was your only friend.

"I have a date tonight, asshole."

"Bullshit, with who?"

"Connor Ingraham. He graduated the year before I did."

The year Eddie was supposed to graduate. "Was he the dickhead who chipped his tooth trying to do a backflip off the table in Mr. Holley's room?"

"He got it fixed in the city, but that's not the point. He came into the store today and we got talking. He asked me to dinner."

"And you said yes?"

"Yeah, why not? He was cute, even with the chipped tooth."

Eddie scoffs aloud at that, and then flushes even though there's no one around to hear it. Connor wasn't cute. He was a grade-a piece of shit then, and Eddie highly doubted he had changed that much since graduation.

More importantly though, Connor didn't seem like your type.

Eddie stubs out the cigarette, carding a hand through his hair and feeling stupid. He doesn't even know what your type is. If he did, maybe he could figure out how to get your attention.

There's a knock at the door, rattling his bedroom window with enough force that it pulls him from his stupid little pity party.

Eddie rolls from the mattress, feeling stiff and dirty, wearing the same clothes he woke up in—which also happen to be the same clothes he'd worn all yesterday. Not that it matters; he wasn't trying to impress anybody.

Or that's what he thought. Then he'd found you behind his door.

You're not looking your best, though, either. Your clothes are completely soaked through—the sweet little dress, your denim jacket, your shoes. You're a walking puddle with big, sad eyes, sitting on his porch.

You brush some of the rain and running mascara from your cheek without making a dent in the mess. "Can I come in?"

Eddie steps out of the way, wordless, watching as you shift the jacket from your shoulders, hanging it on the hook by the door. It creates its own little inside rainstorm, dripping limply onto the carpet. He peels his eyes from it as you slip your shoes from your feet next, barefoot and shivering in his living room.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I walked here," you say, like it’ll clear up all his questions, "can I stay the night? I'll sleep on the couch, even."

Giving up his bed for a night is the least of his problems. Eddie grabs a couple towels from the top of the laundry basket, shuffling back to you. He tosses one down on the cushions, and flings the other around your shoulders like a cape. You grab ends of it gratefully, holding it close for warmth as you flop down onto the couch.

He sits down beside you, picking at the loose skin around his nails to keep himself from touching you. "Of course you can, but you gotta tell me what's wrong, first."

You're staring at your knees, chewing on your lip, and he knows your expressions well enough to recognize when you're embarrassed. Which is silly, of course, because it's him you're talking to. You've seen him pick up a corn dog off the ground and eat it.

(Although he never told you he only did it to make you laugh. That would be its own kind of embarrassing.)

Eddie scoots a little closer than he normally dares, jeans soaking up some of the water you're dripping, leaning in close until you look him in the eyes.

"Did he- did he hurt you?"

You roll your eyes at him, but he still catches the tears pooling in your lashes. "He would have had to show up to do that."

Oh. That's got Eddie at his boiling point.

He takes your hands in his because he's got to have somewhere to channel this energy—something to ground him—but your skin is like ice, and the anger's not going anywhere.

"You want me to beat him up for you?"

At least that makes you laugh. "What good would that do? You haven't won a fight since," —you pause, thinking hard— "actually, I don't think you’ve ever won a fight."

That's not saying much. You'd only ever seen him throw a punch maybe twice, and one of those was in middle school. Now though, he's feeling like an animal—like he could rip Connor's throat out with his teeth.

But he doesn't want to scare you, so instead he puts on a half-smile, rubbing some warmth into your fingers as he says, "there's a first time for everything."

You shake your head. "I just want to forget about it." 

Leaning down against his shoulder with a wet plop, you’re turning his white t-shirt see-through as it soaks up some of the rain from your hair. He’s never been this close to you anywhere but his dreams.

"Yeah, okay." And god fucking damn it, his voice cracks a little.

If the proximity has the same effect on you, he’s not seeing it. Eddie forces himself to ignore the welling bitterness, choosing instead to focus on the quiet cadence of your words. 

"I should have known better. He never looked my direction when we were still in school. Nobody did."

Eddie did. That's why he failed English last year. Couldn’t even get himself to glance at the board.

"It's probably not even like that," —Eddie shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't know why he's defending this guy; seeing you sad makes him crazy,—"maybe he just forgot."

You shoot him a cynical look. "Would you forget?"

"No, but that's not the point." That's like the furthest you could get from the point.

"Yes, it is, Eddie,” you say, sharp with anger, “eventually I'm gonna have to accept that I'm not that kind of girl—"

Eddie sits back so he can look at you, make sure you didn't have some kind of a head injury he'd missed before. "Wait, hold up a second. What kind of girl?"

"You know . . . the kind of girl that people . . . like."

You're picking at your nail polish—little red flecks falling to the carpet—avoiding his eyes. He can’t believe you would say something like that, let alone believe it.

"That's bullshit."

"I'm just saying—"

"Well, stop saying. 'Cause it's not true."

Eddie stands—pacing—but the tight, hot feeling in his chest doesn't go anywhere, and he hardly hears the words spilling out of his own mouth. "God damn, you know you're too good for that dickhead, anyway. Way too good for him—you’re too smart, and funny, and easy to be around, and- and, fuck , so fucking pretty, even when you're not trying to be, and god, it's like you have no idea what that could do to me—"

"To you?"

Oh, shit. He’s fucked up.

You’re standing, close enough he could reach out and touch you although he doesn’t remember seeing you leave the couch. All that anger floods out of him like air in a punctured lung.

He grips a handful of his own hair, flexing his fingers rhythmically, trying to think. "I mean- just, like, to men, you know. In general."

"You didn't say that,” your tone is soft, but guarded, “you said 'to me.'"

There’s barely any distance between you now. He can see the rain drops perched in your lashes like little jewels, your shining skin, the warmth of your breath tempered by the chill in the air.

"What do I do to you, Eddie?" you ask, in a voice soft like velvet. His heart’s gonna beat out of his chest.

The tip of your finger traces over the chain on his wrist, pressing the cool links against his skin. “What do I do to you, Eddie? Tell me.” 

He’s gotta be honest with you. It’s the only thing he has left.

"You- you drive me fuckin' crazy."

The pause you give him is weighted enough to crush him, eyes wide and unreadable, a soft furrow appearing between your brows. And then you’re rolling your eyes again, pushing him half-heartedly on the shoulder to hide your hurt.

 "Come on, Eds, you know I don't believe that—"

Eddie needs you to shut up, and there's only one way he can think of, his fingers sprawled across your cheeks, burying his nose against your skin, warming your lips against his with a surge of hot, open-mouthed kisses. You taste better than he thought you would, and he’s thought about it a lot.

Thought about it so much he’s not even sure what’s real—the feel of your arms at his neck, hands in his hair, tongue stroking along the seam of his lips. He hopes the little breathless laugh you give him as you pull away is real, staring up into his eyes with more honesty than he’s ever seen from you.

“You drive me crazy, too.”

You kiss him, pressing your body tight to his and gripping thick handfuls of hair, tugging a little until he gasps. It’s the proximity that tips him off to the shivers traveling through you, your skin still cool despite how long you’ve been inside.

God, he’s freezing—leached of heat wherever the rain has soaked through his own clothes, and it’s got to be worse for you. 

He strokes a thumb over your lips as he pulls away, letting you know that he’s still thinking of them. “We should get you out of these clothes.” 

You follow Eddie to his bedroom, just like you’d done a thousand times before—so you could smoke, or check out one of his new records, or work on your homework while he dicked around with his guitar—but the nerves he feels this time are brand new. 

“Y’know, what I said before,” he pauses in the doorway and turns to face you, drumming a beat on the frame with his fingers, “it wasn’t a come-on. If you want to just go to sleep, I can- you know, take the couch.”

You look at him with false innocence in your eyes, and Eddie wishes you would stop. The chemical reaction it causes in him is too much.

“The couch, huh?”

You touch him again, and—outside the heat of the moment—he doesn’t know how to handle it, trembling at the feeling of your fingers stroking up his chest. It’s nothing compared to the soft press of your lips at his neck.

“Just . . . if it would make you more, uh,” —his vocabulary is shrinking by the second. He’s gonna be nothing but a pile of moans and single-syllable words if you don’t stop doing that— “comfortable.” 

You kiss along his jaw, down his collar bone. He can barely form a thought, let alone a word.

“We’ve shared a bed before, Eddie,” you tell him, leaning back on your heels. The distance means he can think again, but only about how disappointed he is you stopped.

That’s true. Kind of. There were nights you’d fallen asleep on the same mattress, bodies curved around each other without touching, the river of his want carving canyons between you while he watched you doze off.

 “I mean, yeah, but never on purpose.”

You echo his words from earlier, turning your back and exposing the little white zipper of your dress. “There’s a first time for everything. Besides, I need your body heat. Help me?”

Eddie’s mouth moves wordlessly, completely dried up as he takes the metal tab in between his fingers. It pulls down smoothly, the little teeth clacking with each inch of your skin he reveals, until his hand stops, just above the curve of your ass. You shrug the dress forward off your shoulders, letting it fall forward and slip from around your hips. 

“God damn.” Eddie thinks that maybe he shouldn’t curse—like it might cheapen the moment—but he’s got no control over the whispered words when his eyes trace over the lacy pink straps at your back, the junction where your sheer underwear meets the curve of your hip. He wants to snap the elastic against your skin, wants to make you tremble, but his hands stay locked at his sides.

The view’s even better when you turn, your arms folded shyly in front of you until he can just barely catch a glimpse of your stiff nipples through the sheer fabric, the swell of your breasts dented against your arms. He grabs at your wrists, pinning your hands out of the way, tracing his eyes from your crossed ankles up, taking all of you in.

You look really good in pink—looking demure, innocent even though he knows well enough that you’re not, but still . . . he wants to ruin you. Wants to mark you with his big hands and his dirty mouth and his cock. Wants to make you his, and only his.

“Do you like what you see?”

You’re making fun of him—maybe just to get rid of your own nerves—but fuck, yeah, he does. He likes it a lot. 

“What’s wrong?”

Eddie’s never been that good at keeping his thoughts to himself around you. He knows his face must give away everything, and normally he’d lie about it, say it was nothing, but now’s not the time for lies. “It’s nothing— I just- I kinda wish you were wearing this for me.”

Against his will, he thinks about Connor again. The idea of his clumsy hands at your waist, his stupid little patched tooth leaving marks against your neck, and his eyes taking in the way your tits look covered in pretty pink lace when he doesn’t even deserve to be in the same room as you.

You soothe his worries, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, the thought of Connor poofing into thin air. 

“I am wearing it for you, Eddie. There’s nobody else,” —you take his hand in your own, place it over your stomach and press up until his fingers are wrapped around the curve of your breast— “I would rather be with.” 

Fuck. He explores you with a wide-open palm, cupping your tit experimentally, capturing the soft skin under his thumb. He shifts, and you gasp a little, the back of his ring catching on the raised bud of your nipple, your mouth falling into the sweetest little o shape. And then he does it again. And again.

You reach out to him, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Can I see you?”

“Uh, yeah.”  He stumbles back to the bed, blinded momentarily when you pull his shirt off over his head, your fists curled limply his chest as he rolls back onto the mattress, shifting until you’re beneath him.

Your skin grows warmer under his hands—one making indents at your waist with the press of his rings, and the other intertwined with your own, buried against the mattress with every heavy sigh and roll of his hips. He kisses you, over and over, each kiss longer than the last, growing bolder with the press of his tongue against yours, the nip of his teeth, feeling bolder when he hears your shaky breaths, feels the rise and fall of your stomach, soft against his.

And, god, there can’t be anything better than this. There can’t be. To have you here, in his arms, in his bed, your breaths ringing in his ears—it’ll dull the rest of the world. 

“Eddie.” He’s pulled off your lips just long enough to hear you say his name, and he wants to hear it again, kissing along your jaw to keep your mouth free. 

“What, baby?” he asks with your earlobe caught between his teeth, sucking it into his wet mouth, filled with a thrill when he feels your neck go taut, head rolling back against his pillow.

“Fuck, Eddie. I need you.”

God, how long has he waited to hear you say that? He leans back so he can meet your eyes, his hair falling down in curtains around your face like your own private canopy—a private space with you and him and nobody else. “Yeah?”

You nod, speaking between heavy breaths. “Yeah.”

Eddie presses a kiss to your knuckles, fingers still entwined with yours. 

“Anything for you.” And he means it.

Sitting back on crossed ankles, he tries not to stare at the way you’re sprawled across his sheets, gripping your hips in both hands. You slide towards him with a laugh when he pulls you flush against his hips, eyes wide with surprise—or maybe it’s delight—knees parted around his waist and hair splayed out behind you.

He keeps his eyes on your face, running his palm up the inside of your thigh. His fingers fit perfectly in the space between your thighs, cupping your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, baby, you’re wet.” 

You were soaked through before, but he can’t give all the credit to the rain, pressing the tip of his middle finger tight against your hole, stroking back and forth against the warm, damp fabric. Your lips press tighter together as you shift back on your shoulders, freeing up your hips to move against his hand.

Not wanting to get ahead of himself, Eddie pulls back, gripping the largest of his rings—the one on his middle finger—in his other hand, wiggling the pig’s head from where it rests against his knuckles. The others clink against the first in his open palm, catching your attention.

“What are you doing?” You sit up, gripping at his wrist with your eyes on his hands. His fingers feel naked without the heavy metal, and he flexes them uneasily.

“I was gonna, uh, finger you?” 

It’s hard not to laugh, saying it out loud instead of just thinking about it. Eddie’s always told you everything, except this. He’d steered clear on the topic of sex, not wanting to say something he’d end up regretting, and now his mouth is unsure how to form the words when he’s looking at you. 

You bite at your lip, and he finds a little comfort in seeing that you look equally embarrassed. “Yeah, but . . . I want you to leave them on.”

Fuck.

 “Seriously?” He knows he’s wide-eyed, lips splitting into a wide grin he couldn’t dream of hiding.

You just shrug in response. “You heard me.”

 You won’t look at him, but he can’t keep his eyes off you as you take each of the rings in your own hand, slipping them back into place one finger at a time. It’s a honeyed gesture—made for soft mornings and sunny days. It’s got his heart cracking in two. 

Eddie takes your chin in his hand when the rings are back where they belong, pressing gentle kisses—one to each cheek—giving you a little sugar of his own. 

“Loud and clear, babe.”

You lay back against the bed again, a deep breath in your lungs as he peels away the slick fabric away from your center, parting your lips with one thick finger, fighting for air. 

You’re so pretty like this. He’d thought you were pretty before, but this is next level—better than seeing you in the passenger seat of his van with the windows down, better than your teasing smile. He slides his middle finger inside the tight, wet channel of your cunt, feels you squeeze around him, and the word pretty has a whole new meaning. 

You take him so well as he slides his finger in and out, deep as he can with the rings, your slick spend coating the metal with each thrust, and you move against him, the pace of your breath keeping time with his thrusts.

“That feel good?” 

He takes his eyes off your cunt for just a moment, crumbling a little when he finds your own hands wrapped around your tits, lace cups pulled down so you could squeeze at your nipples, back off the mattress with the way his thumb stutters against your clit.

“I need more, Eddie.”

Fuck, he’s gonna give it to you, already sliding another finger beside the first, increasing the speed until any sounds coming from you mouth have to compete with the wet sucking sound of your greedy pussy. His other arm wraps across your hips, burying his fingers against the bone, trying to hold you still so he can massage your clit with the tip of his thumb.

“Eddie,” you say, desperation in your voice like fucking heroine.

“Already, baby?” he’s panting, the muscles in his arms starting to seize, as if that would get him to stop. He changes tactics instead, shifting just slightly to improve the angle, pressing against your slick front wall with two fingers. His thumb bears down on your clit, and your walls draw in tighter around him, soft tremors echoing through his hand. He watches you, insatiable, licking his lips at the way your tits shake, your hands clutching his sheets tight enough to tear.

“Fuck,” you try to tell him off, but the message is weakened by your little moans, “don’t make fun of me.”

“Why not? It’s one of my favorite things to do.” 

Or it was. His new favorite thing to do is definitely making you cum. With his rings grazing your folds, he feels you squeeze around his fingers, thighs shaking at his sides, and he’s more than content to watch you put the pieces of yourself back together, brushing your clit once or twice because he likes the way you spasm.

He slides from you, flopping down on the pillow beside you with a stupid grin, wiping his hand off on the sheets so he could turn your eyes towards him, holding your face in his hands. 

You’ve finally got enough of your breath back to respond, face covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Fuck you, Munson.”

“You want to?”

You want to? Typical smart-ass comment—Eddie’s said that to most of the people he knows, since he hears fuck you pretty regularly. The asshole jocks at Hawkins High never knew what to do when their threats of violence were met with his indifference, and his friends always got a kick out of it. He’s never said it to you before, though. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it when you inevitably said no. 

So his heart’s beating a little too fast for his liking when you plant a hand against his chest, catching his lips against your own in a gentle kiss. “Yeah. I want to.” 

He just barely manages to resist the urge to say really?, still in shock when your palm grazes over his crotch, popping the button of his jeans.

“You got something?” 

He can only nod, reaching into his nightstand drawer as you help him shimmy from his pants, kissing you, harsh and open-mouthed, so you won’t think about how awkward he is at doing both.

Eddie’s palms are too sweaty to reliably tear open the condom package, so he opts to use his teeth, shucking his boxers off and kicking them to the edge of the bed up on his knees.

 “Wow.”

You’re staring at him, wide-eyed, tongue peeking out between your plush lips. Staring at his dick.

“What is it?”

His voice is high and vulnerable—cracking like a fucking middle-schooler. Nobody’s ever told him that there was anything weird about his cock, but it would be just his luck that all of them were too polite—or high—to mention it.

“Nothing, it’s just,”—you press your lips together again, wiggling a little, embarrassed, “you’re bigger than I’d thought you’d be.”

God damnit. You’re trying to kill him.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he knows he’s bright red down to his neck as he shifts onto his elbows, sliding between your thighs. 

“Fuck you,” he mumbles, even though it gives away how totally and completely pleased he is, fucking over the moon thinking about you thinking about his cock.

“Please?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, and yeah, of course he’s gonna give you what you want.

One hand guides his cock towards your entrance, the other cups the back of your head, pulling you close so he can feel the little gasp on your lips at the pressure, the head of him just stroking over your entrance, circling your clit.

Your nails scratch along his shoulder blades. He feels your whisper at his neck.

“What did I say about teasing me, Munson?”

He laughs. “That I should do it as often as possible?”

Whatever you’re about to say in response is cut off with a sharp gasp as he presses the head inside your cunt, sliding in the first few inches with relative ease, your body still loose from your first release.

“You good?” he asks, waiting for your nod before he shifts forward. You’ve got your fingers curled against the base of his scalp, tugging a little at the roots.

“I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah.” But the answer is no. He’s ready to bust—not even a two-pump chump at this point. Feeling your body envelop him is better than he’s ever imagined. Tighter, and wetter, definitely, but also more passionate—hearing and feeling and seeing how totally and completely you want him.

He’s got to start slow, and it’s so goddamn soft—the way you open for him, legs stretching wider to accommodate his thrusts, your gentle kisses at his neck, soft doe eyes looking up at him like you’ll die if he looks away.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Way too fuckin’ good.” 

He knows he’s babbling, cupping your cheek in one hand, brushing the stray hair out of your face so he can watch you. If he’s lucky, you don’t even hear him—cock-drunk already by the sound of your moans. If he’s lucky, you feel as good as he does right now.

If he’s lucky, you’ll let him do this again.

You clasp your hand over his, fingers exploring the surface of his rings, and there are tears in your eyes, hips meeting his with every thrust, such pretty little noises pouring from you when he hits that spot deep inside you, cunt squeezing him tighter than he thought possible, swallowing up every ridge and vein like his cock was made for you. He grips your hip tight in his other hand, pulling you closer, hard enough to bruise. You don’t seem to mind.

“I’m- fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last,” he has to admit it now—too far gone for shame—vision going spotty, little white lights obscuring your features until he can hardly see you at all.

He buries his head in your neck, but there’s no judgement, just your voice in his ear. “I want you to, baby. Cum inside me.” 

He does. A deep groan ripping its way out his chest, he spills inside you, the muscles in his core spasming as the pleasure shoots through him. He feels it in the base of his spine, in the palms of his hands, in his chest, mind far off because he didn’t know it could feel that good and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

His cock is still throbbing inside you when he feels your hand snake its way between your sweaty bodies, fingers rubbing tight circles at your clit, moving faster and faster, jaw clenched tight with a high, keening whine, cunt squeezing until you’re gushing around him, dampening the thick hair at the base of his cock, dripping on the sheets.

“Fuck.” 

His body rocks with the same convulsions you feel, so intimately entwined it’s almost like he’s cumming again, body shaking and exhausted, too tired to even slip his cock from between your legs long after you’ve gone still. Instead, he rolls onto his back—away from the wet spot—arms wrapped around you, pulling you along with him until your weight is pressing him into the mattress.

“Wow,” you tell him, head pillowed against his chest. You still haven’t caught your breath enough for full sentences. He’s not much better.

“I know.” 

You trace the lines of his tattoo with the tip of your finger, and it tickles a little. He can feel your heart rate slow. “I wish I’d have known it would be like that ages ago. I would have tried to fuck you a lot sooner.”

“I would have let you.”

It feels so good, being this honest. He’s got nothing left in him to hide.

 You shift your hips enough to let his cock slide out from you—still a little sensitive as it lands against his thigh. You’re wiggling your shoulders next, trying to pull out of his grasp. Eddie just tightens his hold, locking his hands behind your back.

“Eddie,” there’s a little bit of a whine in your voice, “I gotta go pee.” 

He just shakes his head with a little laugh. “Not yet, baby. I think it’s time for round two.” 

He lets you sit back just enough you can look him in the eyes, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Seriously?” 

“Absolutely, baby. I’ve been waiting for this too damn long. We’re just getting started.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things season four #minors dni #requests #anons #my writing #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson fics

[deanstead]

Wrong Target

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Requested: yes, by anon

Summary: When someone slips something into Y/N’s unattended drink, Kelly is able to stop it in time. But when Y/N is targeted again, Kelly unintentionally reveals his true feelings.

Word Count: 1,987

Other Characters: Matt Casey, Jay Halstead, Antonio Dawson

Warnings: idiots-in-love, mentions of being drugged/roofied, mentions of attempted sexual assault/kidnapping, mentions of being drugged

A/N: once again couldn’t have done this without my bestie @mertes4cker !! Hope you guys enjoy this!

KELLY SEVERIDE MASTERLIST

“Yo, Sev.”

Kelly blinked back at his best friend who was now sitting across from him. A look crossed Matt’s face as he turned back to see what or who Kelly had been watching, before a small smile flit across his face.

“You know…” Matt started, but Kelly shook his head, cutting him off.

“We are not doing this again.” Kelly told his best friend.

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes finding Kelly naturally where he was talking to Matt, before Gabby motioned towards you and you slid off your chair to head towards her and Sylvie, just for a bit.

Matt glanced back one last time, just as Gabby had called you away before he turned back towards Kelly.

You and Kelly had been friends for a long time and Kelly had been carrying feelings for you for a long time. Kelly still remembered Shay nagging him about it as if it was yesterday and he knew if Shay was here now she’d already be kicking his non-moving ass. But the timing had never seemed right.

Every single time that he’d thought of telling you, something had gotten in the way. So somewhere along the way, Kelly had somehow convinced himself that the universe was telling him not to do it. Besides, it felt stupid to rock a peaceful boat.

Matt was in the middle of his sentence when Kelly frowned, his head swiveling back towards the bar.

“Seriously, Sev, you…” Matt’s voice trailed off as he saw what had caught Kelly’s eye.

A sandy-haired guy was now leaning casually against the bar, where your unattended drink lay as he looked around, before he dropped a pill into your drink, the tablet fizzling in your beer now.

“That did not just…” Matt glanced at Kelly, speaking in a low voice.

Kelly pushed his chair backwards and swam through the crowd of people that were entering Molly’s now, reaching you just as you’d returned back to your original seat and put the glass up to your lips, the guy long gone.

Kelly snatched it back out of your hands and away from you, the liquid sloshing around in your glass.

“What the hell, Kelly?” You growled, pulling back a little when you noticed the look in his eyes. “What?”

Kelly cast a dark look behind him but the guy had been lost in the crowd. Matt came up to him, shaking his head and Kelly looked back down at the drink.

“Get her out of here. I’ll call Antonio.” Matt said, patting Kelly’s shoulder.

You raised your eyebrows, exchanging a confused look with Gabby before Kelly practically shoved you out of Molly’s, which wasn’t easy in the first place since the place was packed.

As the cold outside air hit you, you spun around to look at Kelly. “Will you tell me what’s going on now?”

You didn’t sound as harsh as you had inside because there was a look in his eyes that told you he wasn’t trying to be funny.

Kelly glanced down at you. “I told you not to leave your drinks unattended.” His voice was reproachful but you could hear he was worried.

“I… wait, what?”

Kelly gave you a pointed look, glancing down at the empty street. “Come on, let’s go.”

Being roommates had its perks, you mused as Kelly fell into step next to you, letting go of your elbow when he realized he was still holding onto you and that you were sober.

You glanced up at Kelly but he was looking straight ahead and you just smiled to yourself, catching yourself wondering why you were still hopelessly in love with your best friend when you knew that he would never see you as anything more than that.

Antonio had called Matt and Kelly to let them know that based on the footage Herrmann had provided them, the limited eyewitness accounts and the MO, this was a guy that Intelligence had been trying to find in connection with a couple of sexual assaults, adding that if they were lucky they could add kidnapping to the existing charges.

But this guy was smart. He’d made sure to only strike in crowded bars, where women were alone or easily distracted. There were limited eyewitness accounts, and bars made it easy for friends to overlook someone who’d disappeared since she could easily have gone off willingly with a date.

Kelly glanced at his watch as he headed up to Molly’s. He was a little later than he would have liked but he’d been held back by a case from OFI.

Molly’s was packed as usual for a Friday night and he frowned when he didn’t spot you immediately so he headed towards the bar. Maybe you’d taken off because he was late.

“Dawson, you seen Y/N tonight?”

Gabby looked up from where she was quickly mixing a drink. “Yeah, she’s right…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes found your empty chair.

Kelly glanced in that direction, noticing your phone lying on the table.

“She was right there a second ago.” Gabby told him. “Kelly, I’m sorry we’re swamped tonight and I…”

Kelly shook his head. “I’m gonna go look for her. If anyone in Intelligence or Casey comes in…”

Gabby nodded quickly, as Kelly disappeared towards the back.

He’d barely taken two steps out towards where the dumpsters were when he caught a movement, the same sandy hair he recognized from a week ago, with you slumped against his body as he tried to push you into a car.

Damn it.

“Hey!”

Kelly charged towards them as the guy tried his best to remain nonchalant.

“Can I help you? As you can see, I'm trying to take my girl home.” He said, glancing down at you before back at Kelly. "You know how it is."

A low growl escaped Kelly’s lips. “Get your hands off her.” Kelly leaned forward to take your hand, tugging you out of the stranger’s grasp and into his arms, amid your mumbled protests about getting into a car.

Kelly tightened an arm around you as the guy glanced down the street warily and he tugged you further back, away from the stranger.

“I suggest you don’t get involved.” He warned Kelly. “Just mind your own business.”

His arm still holding you tightly against him, Kelly growled. “She is my business. She is my girl, you picked the wrong ass target.” He glanced down at you before sweeping his head back up to look at the guy standing in front of him now, feeling the anger course through his body.

The guy stepped forward and Kelly growled in warning. On any other day, Kelly could take this guy down but now with you in tow…

Kelly stiffened, angling his body to try to shield you, before the sirens hit, the truck that Kelly recognized as Jay’s pulling up right at the front of the alley, as shouts of “Chicago PD!” came from all sides.

Kelly exhaled, putting another arm around you to steady you, as your head lolled against him.

“You guys okay?” Antonio turned to glance at Kelly as Adam shoved the guy against his own car and cuffed him.

Kelly glanced down at you. “Y/N, you with me?”

You mumbled something and Kelly shook his head. “That son of a bitch gave her something.”

Antonio nodded at Jay to take the both of you to Med straight away and Kelly swept you easily into his arms and into Jay’s truck, before Jay pressed down on the accelerator heading straight for the hospital.

Kelly glanced at you, lying in bed, your eyes still closed.

Will had already been by to explain that the dosage hadn’t been high but that they’d flushed out the residual drugs in your system.

“We’re getting fluids into her system. Her vitals are strong, she should be fine.”

Kelly looked up when there was a knock at the door and Jay slipped in.

There was silence for a beat before Kelly spoke. “So what happened, Jay? Did Dawson call?”

“We'd already narrowed him down as a suspect, but we couldn’t arrest him with nothing. So we’d been tracking him.”

Kelly glanced at Jay now. “So what, Y/N was bait?”

Jay put his hands up. “Woah, Kelly. Not by a long shot.” He paused. “We didn’t expect him to hit the same bar, or the same girl. We already had a tracker on him, so when we noticed him heading for Molly’s, we hightailed it there. As far as I know, Gabby called while we were already on the way.”

Kelly glanced down at you before he glanced up and nodded. “Sorry.” He paused. “And thanks. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it with her unconscious and this guy…”

Jay patted Kelly on the shoulder, just as you stirred.

“Y/N?” Kelly’s head snapped up and Jay nodded, quietly leaving the room to give the both of you some privacy.

Your eyes fluttered open, before you sat up with a shock. “Wait, what… Kelly?”

“Shhh, it’s okay. We’re at Med, alright?”

You felt your heart rate slow, conscious of the fact that your hand was held tightly in Kelly’s. “I…”

Kelly gave you a look. “I thought we agreed to be careful with our drinks.”

“I was.” You argued, though your voice was still soft as your head pounded. “I swear, I didn’t leave my drink unattended. I don’t even… wait.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow, moving closer towards you. “There was this guy…” You said, looking up at Kelly. “He was hovering around me, maybe I took my eyes off for like a second, I… I’m sorry, Kelly.”

Kelly couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad at you like he normally would be, his features softening as he sighed. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

You gave him a small smile, pausing before you glanced at him. “Did you mean it?”

“Hmm? What?” Kelly asked a little absentmindedly, turning to see if he could spot Will.

“What you said to that creep.”

Kelly froze, realizing that you hadn’t been totally out of it.

You hadn’t. In fact, you’d been awake for most of it, just lightheaded, lethargic, and feeling like you couldn’t control your own body.

Kelly exhaled, realizing he was screwed. He didn’t have much of a choice right now. So even with the irrational worry that something was going to go wrong, or the fear that this would change things between the both of you forever, he took a deep breath and glanced back down at you, right into your eyes.

“Every word, Y/N. Every word.”

You felt your stomach tumble inside you, and heard your heart rate increase from the machine sitting right next to you that was totally betraying you right now.

“Kelly…”

Kelly shook his head. “Look, I don’t want you to feel burdened by my feelings. Nothing has to change, we just…”

“Kelly Severide.” You interrupted him.

Kelly blinked back at you.

“For once, will you let me finish before you jump like twenty steps ahead?” You nagged, although a small smile appeared on your face. “I’ve always wanted to be that person.”

“What?” Kelly frowned, confused.

“Your person.” You clarified. “Always. Shay wouldn’t leave me alone about it.”

A look crossed over Kelly’s face that told you he finally got what you were saying and he smiled, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips firmly on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“Finally.” You could almost hear Shay’s voice ring out in your ears.

You smiled against Kelly’s touch, as he pulled away and you looked back into his green eyes before he leaned down for a hug. “I love you.” He whispered, pressing his lips onto your temple now.

“I love you too, Kelly Severide. Always have." You whispered, as you saw Kelly smile.

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[littleredwing89]

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 5

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 5

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. NSFW Smut. Degrading language. Slight semi-public smut. Slight bondage.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! :) apologies for no tag list, still trying to get it working and get back into the swing of things xoxo

——

Jason was strangely silent as you both walked into the building together. You noticed he kept fiddling with his tie, tugging on it every so often. A tick you’d come to realise as nervousness. You didn’t say anything, simply following him into the executive elevator.

As the mirrored doors of the elevator closed in front of you both, Jason let out a deep sigh before turning to you, “I need you to look over some files for me when we get to my office, it’s a new deal I’m about to broker - linking us up with an exclusive company in the city”.

“Oh? With who?”, you raised an eyebrow in suspicion, “Was this the secret meeting you had last week?”.

Jason nodded briefly, hands tugging on his scarlet tie again, “Sionis Distilleries Ltd”.

You let out a sharp, piercing laugh, “You’re joking right?”.

He looked confused for a moment, “Why would it be a joke?”, he frowned deeply, his voice taking a more clinical tone, “Roman has been wanting to do business with me for years and we finally sat down to discuss it. He had some fantastic ideas”.

“And you fell for his lies covered by sweet talk?”.

“It's an excellent deal, why would I turn it down?”, he shifted on the spot, resting back against the banister of the elevator.

“You think it's an excellent deal? Are you mad? Do you want me to enumerate how this will bite us in the ass in the long run”, you felt your temper boiling in your stomach. How could Jason be this naive? How had his company lasted this long with him in charge? Your brow knitted in irritation the longer you thought about it.

“I-”.

You cut over him, not wanting to hear his ridiculous argument, “Sionis Distilleries Ltd has been investigated by the GCPD three times in the last 18 months Jason. Not to mention their newly appointed, chief of operations was arrested 3 months ago for drug trafficking. He’s probably going to get at least 10 years behind bars for that”, you took a deep breath before laughing dryly at him, “You’re forgetting all the black market coverage he has on alcohol trading too”.

“I—”, he tried again but you weren’t finished. Your anger spiralling further.

“Sionis is linked with the Gotham mafia for fucks sake!”, you exclaimed, cheeks tinting pink with frustration, “I even heard a rumour he’s the boss but no one can prove it…probably because he has dirty cops in his back pocket!”.

“But-”, Jason tried again.

“You honestly can’t think this is good for business Jason? I thought you weren’t stupid? Isn’t that what you told me?”.

Jason grunted, his cheeks becoming a deeper shade of red every time you spoke more, “I-”.

You waved your hand at him dismissively, “I thought better of you honestly, this is just madness”.

Jason felt the walls of the elevator closing. He heat radiating off you was stifling but erotic. He swallowed thickly, “Y/N … if you could just let me-”.

“No!”, you snapped and jabbed him in the chest hard, “You gave me a promotion and that means you gave me a voice and a voice I will use to tell you that you’re being a fucking moron! I bet Dick wouldn’t do this!”.

Yeah. That was a low blow but he needed it. God, he needed to see some sense.

You jumped, gasping softly as Jason slammed both his palms on either side of your head. His eyes were blown jet black and when your eyes dipped, you saw the front of his trousers were painfully tight. You bit down on your plush bottom lip, eyes becoming hooded at the growing tension rippling between you both.

“Oh? You’ve gone very quiet princess, you were pretty mouthy a moment ago”, the deep timber of his voice rattled your spine.

You glared up at his towering form, your anger flaring, “Oh I have more to say Todd!”, pressing both of your palms onto his chest you shoved hard.

Jason stood solid, as though you’d barely touched him. He smirked and pushed you up against the elevator wall, the bar pressing cold into your lower back.

“Go on, princess, I’m listening”, he moved one of his hands to your cheek, stroking over it slowly. Calculating his next move. Your breaths deepened as you tried to pull your mind back from his distracting touch. The strong scent of his cologne mixed with his own musk enveloped you as he ground his hips into yours, letting you feel just how excited you’d made him.

“Please tell me more about how my brother would do so much better”.

You knew if you opened your mouth, nothing coherent would come out. The temperature of the lift had shifted and you were on fire. His obvious jealousy a catalyst for the flames. Jason’s head ducked down to your ear and nipped your earlobe, “Turn around”.

Defying him, you stayed put, ignoring the shivers erupting over your skin. Jason smirked and littered more kisses down your neck and over your shoulder, “I won’t ask again princess, turn around…now”.

The sound of your heels clicking against the metal flooring was deafening as you complied with his order, turning your back to him. His heat and wide chest engulfed you and you purposely pressed your ass into his clothed cock, purring under your breath. Jason grunted and ground back against you. Preparing yourself, you pressed your hands on the mirror in front of you and he clicked his tongue.

“Hands on the bar”, he demanded roughly in your ear.

“Yes Sir”.

Slipping them slowly down the wall, you wrapped your delicate fingers around the banister of the elevator, the platinum bracelet on your wrist rattled against it. Jason had given it to you last week after your promotion, along with an evening in his bedroom.

He growled deeply and you could hear the sound of fabric whipping. His hands gripped yours suddenly and started weaving his red tie around your wrists. The material dug into your flesh as you struggled a little but you stopped when Jason bit down onto your exposed shoulder. You tipped your head back and groaned his name.

Once he was finished binding you, his fingers roughly shoved the hem of your skirt up over your ass, exposing the fact you were completely bare. He palmed your cheek roughly before slapping it harshly. The sound echoed in the tiny compartment.

“Nothing but a filthy little slut, aren’t you?”, he snarled, slapping your ass again, the sting sending a buzz of electricity over your skin. You whined and pushed back, aching for more of his punishment. He leaned back slightly to admire the red imprint blooming before kicking your legs wider apart. The elevator started to move and Jason jabbed something angrily on the pad, causing the lift to shudder to a stop, the lights dimming slightly.

“What are you - oh!”, you gasped loudly when his palm smacked over your pussy, the desire slick between your folds.

“Who are you to question me?”, he growled and his fingers roughly slipped through your dripping core. He groaned at how wet you were already. The elevator was filled with your needy moans and the wet sounds of your pussy.

“Look at yourself”, he mocked, his free hand forcing your face to look into the mirror at the side of you both, “Look how desperate you are for me already, practically gushing over my palm”. He thrust two fingers deep into your core, enjoying the way you shivered.

“Sir…please”, you pulled on your bindings, frustrated. Jason wasn’t giving you the pace you wanted. He was ignoring all of the sensitive areas you needed him to pleasure.

“Please what?”.

He smirked and slowed down the movement of his fingers before removing them completely, smearing your wetness over your sore ass cheek. Your eyes met his in the mirror as he unbuckled his belt quickly, freeing his cock from his pants. Immediately your gaze dropped to his shaft, licking your lips without thought. It throbbed, precum leaking down the head. He needed you just as much.

The moan that left your lips was loud and your ass pushed back quickly. You wanted him inside you now. You didn’t care how desperate you looked. Cheeks flush, skin slightly damp with sweat.

“Fuck me”, you begged, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

He stroked his hand along his length before coaxing the thick head between your folds. You sighed in delight. Jason ran the tip repeatedly through your lips, smearing your slick all over his cock.

“So fucking wet”, he grunted and without warning slid into you fully, bottoming out. He panted into your ear and you sobbed his name, pussy clenching around him.

“Such a tight little cunt”, he bit out and thrust into you sharply, pushing your face into the cold mirror in front of you. The cool feeling was welcome on your burning cheeks.

“You strut around my building like you own the place”, he growled, thrusting deeper, angling his hips to hit your g spot perfectly, “Everyone’s terrified of you, but look at you now”, his teeth grazed over your pulse point, “Nothing but a filthy little cock whore”.

He moved back slightly and grabbed your hips hard, enough to bruise and began to fuck into you with a brutal pace. The sound of his skin slapping against yours was sinful, bouncing off the tiny elevator walls.

You wanted to close your eyes and drown in the feeling of his thick cock driving you into delirium but watching the way his face contorted in the mirror as he fucked you was too tempting to miss. The way his cock was swallowed by your pussy greedily, like a movie in the reflection.

Jason cursed, voice strained and raspy. Your name left his lips as he drove faster. You cried his name, arching your back, meeting each of his thrusts. His cock stretched you perfectly, creating a delicious burn.

“You going to cum all over my cock, princess?”, his hand snaked around your front, flicking over your clit vigorously.

You lost the ability to form words, your mind too busy drowning in the euphoria bolting through your nerves. He thrust harder, his fingers winding into the back of your hair, creating a ponytail before yanking it backwards. The stings of pain shot down to your core, making you mewl louder.

“Cum now, fucking cum now”, he barked, grunting as his pace became sloppy. His cock was pulsing inside you and you knew he was close too.

Stars. You saw stars as your eyes shut when your orgasm hit. You came hard, sobbing his name. He followed, groaning huskily against the back of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning down your neck and spine as he shot his load deep into your pussy.

He pressed into you, his chest resting against your back. You could feel his heart hammering wildly, matching the rhythm of your own. Your hot breath blew out against the mirror, causing it to fog up. Jason’s lips pressed into the nape of your neck, travelling across your shoulder slowly.

“That’s one to tick off my list”, he murmured.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “You expect me to believe you’ve never fucked anyone in your own personal elevator?”.

He laughed and nipped the junction of your neck, the gasp you released made him flush, “Never had the opportunity princess”.

Stepping back, he looked down over your ass, smirking seeing some of his cum dripping on your inner thighs. He winked at you in the mirror before sliding your skirt back down over your lush ass.

He tucked himself away before zipping his trousers and buckling his belt back up. You looked at him expectantly in the mirror, wiggling your ass at him, “A little help Todd?”. You tugged at your hands helplessly, waiting for him.

“Sorry, I was just enjoying seeing you all tied up”.

Carefully, Jason loosened the tie from around your wrists, letting it slip free. You wiggled them slowly, allowing the circulation back into them, and to soothe the slight sting there. He grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing over the angry red marks gently. His tongue made you shiver as he worked over each one. The actions took you by surprise but you happily accepted it, closing your eyes peacefully.

“You’re right”, he murmured against your pulse, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

You frowned and your eyes flew open instantly, “Excuse me?”.

Jason chuckled at your reaction, pulling you a little closer to his chest, “You’re right about the deal with Sionis”.

“And an orgasm made you realise this?”, you couldn’t quite believe Jason had accepted that he was wrong.

He laughed and moved your arms to coil around his neck, his own hands settled on your waist, keeping you pressed up against him, “No”, he gave you a little smirk, “More the fact I’ve been dreading telling you about it all week, knowing you’d kick my ass about it”.

“Of course I would, it’s a fucking ridiculous idea”, your nails found the hair at the back of his neck and began to scratch along it in a practised gesture. Instinctively he closed his eyes and leaned into you.

“I didn’t mean what I said about Dick…I’m sor-”.

“Ah don’t worry about it, it’s fine princess”, he ran his nose along yours and gave a genuine smile, “You can help me come up with a creative way of saying no when we get to my office”.

His voice was gravelly as he spoke, his lips brushing over your forehead. Eyes still closed.

“I guess ‘Fuck No’ isn’t allowed?”.

He laughed loudly and his eyes opened to meet yours, glistening in the neon lights of the elevator, “We may have to be slightly more professional than that princess”.

--------------

MY KOFI ACCOUNT - any support is greatly, greatly appreciated :) xx

#ceo!jason Todd x reader #ceo!jason todd x reader insert #ceo!jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader insert #jason todd imagine #red hood fanfiction #red hood smut #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x reader insert #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader au series

[cicimunson]

There's 2 Chubbies In This Story and One is Eddie's D-

Summary: Firstly, I couldn’t come up with a good name for this fic. Secondly, as a chubby person, this fic is not intended to offend or upset anyone. I just wanted to write a Eddie Munson x Plus Size Fem! Reader story.

Characters/Pairings: Said above

Warnings: Shameless smut, face-riding, oral sex, round two, reader is insecure about her size. Oh, and drug use, but just weed.

Word Count: 4.1k+

“It’s two in the fucking morning, what the hell do you- oh, it’s you.” Eddie flings open the door to his trailer. “What’s up?”

You breeze past him. “I need to be high, like right now.”

“Shit, okay. Lemme roll us one.” He chuckles. “You came all the way here at two a.m. for a joint?”

“I came all the way here because Jason is an asshole and I need to get high to calm down. I’m out of bud at my place.”

Eddie touches your shoulder. “Hey, what happened?”

You turn to look at him and his eyes widen when he sees your tear-stained face. “Y/N, what did that fucker do? Did he hurt you?”

You sigh. “Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. I really don’t want to go into details.”

“You better, cause I’m thinking the absolute worst right now. Do I need to kick his ass? Kill him?” He wipes a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.

“Eddie, it’s fine. Let’s smoke, please.”

He doesn’t seem convinced but does as you ask, patting the couch cushion beside him as he sits. He expertly rolls a joint, lights it up and takes a long hit, passing it to you.

“I’ve told you for months that guy is a dick. I’m sorry he upset you.”

You flop down beside him, take a drag, and close your eyes. “I know. I should have listened to you. I never should have gone to his party tonight.”

“Y/N…I know you don’t want to talk about it, but did he, you know, take things too far or something?”

You take another puff and pass the joint back to him. “No, he didn’t. He didn’t touch me. In fact, he did the opposite. He basically declared that I’m untouchable.”

Eddie squints at you. “Huh?”

You laugh bitterly. “He said I’m a sweet girl but I’m not his type. If I lost some weight he would consider dating me, but only if I really committed to dropping some pounds.”

He looks shocked. “Is he a fucking idiot? Your body is banging. I mean, damn, he’s gotta be blind or stupid. You’re smoking hot.”

Your mouth drops open. “What?" 

Did I hear him right or is this some powerful ass weed?

Eddie chuckles at your expression and takes another hit, blowing the smoke in your face.

"I said you’re hot. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Is he being serious?

“Eddie. Look at me. I’m fat.”

“Fat doesn’t mean ugly, Y/N. I am looking at you. You’ve got gorgeous eyes, sexy lips, great tits. Don’t even get me started on your ass.”

He passes the joint back to you.

“Not to mention, you’re cool as shit. You got good taste in music, you’re funny, you’re smart. Jason is a moron. Or gay. Probably gay.”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just saying, he’s got something going on if he’s turning you down. He’d be lucky to have you hold his hand, much less anything else. Hit the joint or pass it girl, you’re letting it burn down.”

You glance down. “Shit.“ You take another hit. "You get last.”

“Split it?”

You nod.

He tugs your hand up to his mouth and takes the last draw, then leans forward and blows the smoke into your open mouth. “I didn’t burn your fingers, did I?”

You inhale and blow out. “Nah. You saving the roach?”

“Always.”

You toss it into the ashtray on the coffee table.

I’m probably gonna regret pressing the issue but-

“You really think I’m hot?” You blurt.

He drops his head to the back on the couch and stares at you. “I do.”

“Why haven’t you said anything before?”

He laughs. “Shit girl, I thought you knew. I’m always staring at you, always asking you to come light one up with me. I figured you just weren’t feeling me the same way I’m feeling you.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it. But you’re cute as hell, Ed.”

“You don’t have to lie to me babe, I know I’m not even on your radar. It’s cool. I figured I wasn’t your type when you started talking to Jason.” He shrugs his shoulders. “No big deal.”

“I don’t have a specific type Eddie, and you’re wrong if you think you’re not on my radar. I’m definitely into you.”

“You just said you hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well, now I have.”

“Maybe you’re just high.”

“Maybe I’m just horny.”

I did not just say that out loud.

He looks surprised. “Don’t play with me. I swear I’m going to kiss you if you’re being serious.”

You giggle. “No you’re not, you’re chicken.”

He giggles also, the weed clearly taking effect. “Am not. I’m going to kiss you, as soon as you say yes.”

“Fine, yes. Kiss me.” You roll your eyes.

“I don’t think you really want me to.” He crosses his arms.

“Oh my God Eddie, I’m going home.” You slug his shoulder and rise to your feet, heading for the door. “Thanks for the weed.”

You let out a little yelp when Eddie suddenly snags your arm, jerks you back around, and pins your body between his and the door. The atmosphere shifts from two high friends goofing around to something a bit darker. Erotic, even.

He rolls his hips into you and you feel his erection against your belly.

“Oh shit.” You gasp out loud, your hands landing on his shoulders.

“Oh shit is right. I want you. No more games.”

“I thought…I thought you were just trying to make me feel better.”

“I do wanna make you feel better.” His hands cup your face. “Cause you make me feel fucking amazing.”

He closes the distance between the two of you and presses a soft kiss to your lips. One peck, then two, then a slow, sweet, continuous kiss that leaves you breathless.

When he pulls away you smile at him, reaching up to play with his hair. “That was nice, Munson. You’re a good kisser.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Care to find out?”

Oh, absolutely.

You gently tug his hair to pull his face down to yours. When you trace his bottom lip with your tongue, he shivers and opens his mouth. The kiss starts off sweet and slow like before, but after a few minutes pass, your tongues are tangled together and you’re tugging at each other’s clothes, moving down the hall to his room.

When Eddie breaks the kiss and pulls your shirt over your head your first instinct is to cover your stomach. He slaps your hands away before unfastening your bra and planting a sloppy kiss in the middle of your chest. The only light in the room is coming from the hall where Eddie didn’t close the door, but you still flinch at the thought of him seeing your stretch marks.

“God, these tits. I’ve dreamed of these fucking tits.”

“Eddie…”

He drops to his knees and unbuttons your jeans, kissing your belly. You let him slide them down and he buries his face into your panties, his tongue flicking out.

“I just know you’re gonna taste amazing.”

You grip his shoulders as he licks you through the fabric.

God, that feels amazing.

His eyes meet yours and you watch as he slips your panties off your hips and down to your feet. He slides a single finger down your slit, easing it inside you.

“Oh shit.”

His mouth returns to your pussy, licking broad stripes. You let your head fall back as you let out a low moan. Eddie grabs your left leg and loops it over his shoulder. You brace against the wall and lace your fingers through his hair.

“Eddie, fuck, Eddie…”

He mumbles something against your clit.

“What did…what did you say?” You pant.

He pulls back and stands up. “Not good enough. Come here.”

He takes your hand and lays back on the bed. “Straddle my face.”

Oh God he’s got to be kidding.

“Um, that’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” He props himself up on his elbows to look at you. “I thought you liked what I was doing. You certainly moaned my name enough.”

“I-fuck, yes, I liked it, but Eddie, come on. There is no way I’m straddling your face. I’ll suffocate you.”

He frowns. “I’m a grown ass man, Y/N. I’ll find a way to breathe. Now, come here.” He holds out a hand to you.

“I don’t think I can do it. I’m scared I’ll hurt you.”

He shakes his head. “You won’t. But I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” He tries and fails to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

Fuck. I guess I’m doing this.

“If you need to stop-”

His eyes light up. “I’ll let you know.” He looks almost gleeful.

You place a knee by the side of his head and swing yourself over him. As soon as you have your balance, Eddie dives back in with gusto. He finds your clit and sucks it, then licks down to your center, shoving his tongue into your hole.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” You try to stay perfectly still but you can’t stop your hips from moving back and forth. Eddie grabs your waist and rocks you against his mouth, lapping greedily. You lean back slightly and he takes your hands, guiding them to his knees so that you can hold yourself up.

His hand finds your clit and rubs circles while he fucks you with his tongue. Your body starts to clench and he puts his other hand on your lower belly, pressing down. “Eddie.” You whimper, your hips snapping faster and faster.

Your head falls back and you close your eyes as your muscles tighten and the tension builds and builds, until it comes unraveled and you come harder than you ever have before. You cry out, almost screaming, losing your balance and slumping backwards. You manage to roll off Eddie and he chuckles, ducking his head to avoid being kicked by your feet.

You gasp for breath and try to calm your pounding heart. Eddie is still laughing to himself, moving to kiss your ankle, slowly working up the inside of your thigh. He sucks a spot a few inches above your knee and continues traveling upward. When his mouth nudges your clit again, you whimper and push his head away.

“It’s so sensitive.” You mumble.

He sits up and takes your hands, pulling you into a sitting position. “You good, girl?”

“I’m fantastic. I didn’t, um, that is…you’re good too, right?”

“Y/N, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The way you move your hips, fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He hesitates. “I mean, if you want to keep going.”

You nod. “If you do.”

He grins. “Hell yeah, I do.”

You giggle as he pushes you back onto the bed and stands up, shimmying out of his pants so fast he almost falls over. He stretches out on top of you and you yank his shirt over his head before kissing him once more.

“I cannot believe we could have been doing this for months. Why didn’t I just grow some balls and jump your bones?” He massages one of your tits. “You know, I meant what I said earlier. I had a wet dream that you let me jerk off on your chest.”

“Oh my God, Ed.” You cover your blushing face with your hands.

“Maybe you’ll let my dreams come true tonight, hmm?”

He takes a nipple between his teeth. His other hand is slowly sliding down your stomach, back between your legs.

“Eddie-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Tell me if I need to stop.” He mumbles.

You wince when the pad of his thumb runs across your overly sensitive clit. He lifts his head to kiss your neck, slowly easing his middle finger inside you. “You good, babe?”

He pumps his finger in and out of you, his tongue on your neck mimicking the movement as he flicks and licks back to your tit, nipping your skin before biting down.

“Yeah, Eddie. I’m good. I am so fucking good right now.” You close your eyes.

He slides a second finger in as his lips drift across to your other nipple. “Still okay?”

“Mmhmm. I’m great.”

You pull his face up to yours and kiss him, then let your lips wander down to his shoulder.

“You can mark me too, if you want. I like it.” He murmurs huskily.

You suck a hickey into the little divot  by his collarbone. His fingers are pumping faster in you now, and he curls them upward, hitting that little spot inside you that makes everything go blurry.

“Eddie, I can’t concentrate on giving you hickeys when you do that.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “So give them to me afterwards. I’m fucking aching, Y/N. I need to fuck you.”

Yes, please.

You push his hand away and take his cock, pumping it a few times. He groans and rolls his hips. “I don’t wanna fuck your hand, Y/N, I wanna be inside you.”

You guide him to your entrance and he pushes inside, taking care not to fill or stretch you too quickly. “Ed!” You cry out as he slides all the way in. “Fuck!”

“I know, I know.” He strains to hold back from just ramming into you. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

You clench around him and he lets out a strangled moan. “I’m trying not to hurt you, but you do that again and my composure might slip.”

You flex your muscles again and he groans loudly, pulling out halfway, willing himself to start at a slow pace.

“Eddie, faster. Please.”

“Fuck.” He snaps his hips against yours and lifts your leg to wrap around his waist. “You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking good.”

“So do you.” You mumble, running your nails down his back.

“I knew. I knew fucking you was going to be…Jesus…gonna be incredible.”

You listen to his breathy sighs and soft moans as he fucks you. Your hips lift to match each stroke he makes, your hands sliding down to his ass to pull him closer, to make him go deeper.

His thrusts start to get sloppy and he babbles about how close he is and how tight you are while he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Y/N, fuck, I can’t last. I’m gonna-”

He pulls out and you sit up, wrapping your hand around his cock. He practically whimpers as he comes, shooting his load on your chest. He drops down on the bed beside you.

“Jesus H. Christ, you are amazing.” He drops a noisy kiss to your forehead. “Fuck, I cannot wait to do that again.”

“Um, maybe we should clean up the mess from the first time before we plan round two.”

He glances down at your chest. “Damn, I don’t usually blow like that. Let me get a towel or something.”

He hops off the bed and you hear water running in the bathroom. He comes back and you run the towel between your legs, then wipe down your tits and hand it back to him. He tosses it on the floor and crawls back beside you, tossing a thin blanket over your bodies.

“I’m exhausted.” He tugs you to his chest and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Me, too. Let me catch my breath and I’ll get out of here.”

“Um, why would you do that?” He frowns.

How do I even begin to explain?

“I don’t have anything to sleep in.”

“So sleep naked. I do.”

“Eddie…”

“If you’re worried about my uncle seeing you, he’s working a double at the plant. He won’t be home for hours, and he rarely comes into my room.”

“Yeah, it’s not him seeing me I’m worried about.”

He turns his head to look down at you. “What are you talking about?”

He’s really going to make me say it, isn’t he?

“Eddie, it’s like three a.m. We’re high and it’s pretty dark in here. In the morning we’ll be sober, and sunlight will be streaming through those windows.”

“I’m still confused.”

“Eddie.” You slap a hand on his chest.

“I’m serious, Y/N, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that in the morning you might…you might regret this. You might not like what you see when you wake up.”

He stills.

“So, I’m just thinking it’s better if I go ahead and go. I had a really good time, though.”

He slips out of the bed and crosses the room, flicking the light switch. When he turns back to you, his face is red and he looks angry.

“Eddie-”

“Get up.” He pulls the blanket off you. “Get up, Y/N.”

Oh shit, he’s pissed.

You want to protest but the look on his face tells you it wouldn’t do any good. You scramble to your feet and he grabs your arm, pulling you in front of his dresser.

“Look in the mirror.”

Oh Jesus.

“Eddie.”

“Looking in the fucking mirror, babe.” He points.

You meet his eyes in the glass. The top of his dresser has a large mirror attached to it. He’s got photos of his friends and band art tucked into the sides. “Not at the pictures. Look at yourself.”

You blush but do as he says. He moves behind you and slides his hands around to cup your tits.

“Lights are on, Y/N, and I promise you, it takes a lot more than four puffs from a joint to get me high.” He tugs on your nipples. “I still fucking want you.”

“Eddie-”

He pushes on your back, and you bend forward, your elbows landing on the top of the dresser.

“Fuck, look at you. So goddamn hot, bent over for me.” He slides two fingers inside you.

“Oh my god, Ed.” You groan. “What are you doing?”

“You clearly don’t grasp what happened earlier. I said you’re hot. I said I want to fuck you. I said I don’t give two fucks about your weight. So now…” He removes his fingers and runs his dick down your slit, hardening almost instantly. “Now, you’re going to watch me fuck you. You’re gonna watch how crazy you make me.” He pushes inside you.

“Eddie!” You lean up and grip the sides of the dresser. “Please. Please.”

“I’m going to kill anyone that’s ever made you feel bad because of your looks. You are, fuck Y/N,” he pauses, tightening his grip on your waist when you start thrusting back against him.  “You’re fucking perfect.”

“So are you.” You gasp.

He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you upward. “Look at you. Look at those amazing titties bouncing. Look at you taking my dick so well. You’re gorgeous.”

His hands graze over your stretch marks. “Everything about you is fucking gorgeous.”

He reaches down and rubs your clit. “You know when you’re the absolute hottest, though? When you’re cumming for me.”

Your whole body is on fire. Your muscles contract and tighten, almost forcing you on your tiptoes.

“Let me see it, baby. Let me see you come.”

Your head falls back on his shoulder and he nips your neck. “No ma'am. Eyes on the mirror. Watch yourself.”

You snap your eyes open and look straight ahead into the glass. Your gaze wanders up to Eddie. His face is flushed and sweat is dripping from the ends of his hair. He’s watching your body move with his, his eyes moving up and down from between your thighs to your tits to your face.

“Fuck, Eddie, I-”

“Come on baby. Let me see how pretty you are when you’re yelling my name.”

You’re wound like a coil and it gets tighter and tighter until it snaps. You cry out and start to fall forward towards the dresser, but Eddie pulls you back to him. You moan and thrash against him, your orgasm leaving you spent and exhausted.

“I’m close, Y/N. So fucking close.” He pounds into you, not bothering to hold back like he did before. “Y/N.” His hips stutter.

You push at his waist and he pulls out of you. You turn, drop to your knees, and take his cock in your mouth.

“Oh fuck. Oh Jesus. Y/N. Y/N.” He groans and fists your hair. You bob your head up and down, taking as much of him down your throat as possible. “Goddamn. I’m gonna-”

It’s his turn to cry out as he comes. He yells something garbled that you can’t make out and shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow quickly. Eddie’s hand bangs the top of the dresser, struggling to hold him up.

“You’re staying the night. You’re staying every fucking night.”

You stand up and he kisses you, locking his arms around your waist.

“Let me catch my breath and I’ll start the shower for us. We’re soaked in sweat.”

“Okay.”

He holds you against him for another minute or two, both of your breathing becoming slower and steady. You realize that every muscle in your body is aching and you’re absolutely exhausted.

“I don’t know if I can hold myself up for a shower.” You mumble as he leads you into the bathroom. He puts down the toilet lid and motions for you to sit down while he starts the water.

“Lukewarm okay? I don’t think I can handle it being hot right now.” Eddie asks and you nod. He helps you into the tub and steps in behind you.

“I don’t have anything girly, but there’s shampoo and conditioner. And you can use my body wash.” He dumps some on a washcloth. “Turn and I’ll do your back.”

You do as he says and he starts rubbing soapy circles on your skin. You moan and stretch your spine. Eddie moves further down and soaps your ass, then your legs. You hold on to his shoulders as he washes your feet. “Let me get the front.”

You notice his voice has dropped and his tone is low and husky. “Oh no, I’ll wash my front, thank you.” You take the rag from him.

He chuckles and pulls you to him. “Something wrong?”

“How do you have so much stamina? I physically cannot go another round. You’re trying to kill me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pecks your lips and slides a hand between your legs.

“Eddie, no. No way. I will collapse in this tub and you will have to explain to the police how you literally fucked me to death.”

He bursts out laughing, his chest rumbling against yours. “Fine, but in the morning I’m waking you up by eating you out.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you giggle.

You both finish showering. Eddie wraps a fluffy towel around you and you motion for him to bend down so you can dry his hair. He wraps another around his waist and takes your hand, leading you back to his room.

“Eddie?” A voice calls from the other end of the hall.

You shriek and jump behind him. “Shit, who is that?”

“Uncle Wayne? I thought you had a double tonight.” Eddie blocks you from view and pushes you toward his room.

This is not happening.

“I got off early. Looks like you did, too.”

“Oh God.” You groan.

“Uncle Wayne, Jesus.” Eddie winces. You hurry into his room, leaving them to talk in the hall.

“Who’s your girlfriend, Ed?”

Girlfriend?!

“Um, Y/N. Her name is Y/N.”

“Well, you two keep it down, hmm? I’m beat.”

“We will. Good night.”

Eddie re-enters the room, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry about that. He was supposed to be gone until noon.”

“You didn’t correct him when he called me your girlfriend.”

“Huh? Oh, guess I didn’t think about it.”

“Don’t you think you should tell him we’re just friends?”

“You sleep with all of your friends?” He teases.

“Well, no, but.-”

“Then you’re my girlfriend. Let’s get some sleep.”

Before you can respond he’s tugged the towels from both your bodies, cut off the light, and nudged you into the bed. He tosses the blanket over the two of you like before and pulls you back onto his chest, running a hand up and down your back. You snuggle into him and he kisses your forehead. “Good night, babe.”

“Night, Ed.”

You’re almost asleep when he lets out a loud sigh.

“You know, this really puts a damper on the whole waking-you-up-with-my-face-in-your-pussy plan.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #plus size reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

[slamminslamminmcgill]

thinkin abt working w gene takovic & being generally shit at the job and he gets tired of reader slacking off and decides to give reader a little motivation to do better ……….

workplace harassment but if it was epic 😌

my immediate thought was "reader comes into work high and gets disciplined" so im adding intox to this hope that's ok :3

warning: intox, possibly dubcon? (you're high and he's your superior)

You hated your fucking job.

I mean, it wasn't horrible. It was just a run of the mill food service position at the Cinnabon in the mall. Standing for 8 hours, shitty customers, all the glitz and glamour you could expect, but hey, free cinnamon rolls was a nice perk. It's not like you were planning to make a career out of this anyway. You could afford to dick around on the clock from time to time. Plus, y'all were short-staffed anyway, so what were they gonna do, fire you?

Well, today, you had pushed your luck too far.

It was supposed to be a busy day, some huge sale happening in the mall, and that meant a bunch of entitled pricks needing their cream cheese frosted insulin bombs. You didn't want to risk strangling the first boomer that yelled at you, so you figured why not pop a few edibles before your shift?

Big mistake. You realized that when you clocked in.

One of your coworkers called out, and another was coming in late. That meant it was just you and your manager Gene tackling the first few hours. He wasn't horrible to work with, but a skeleton crew was no one's idea of a good time. Let alone the fact that you'd be stupid high in about an hour and there'd be no one else to cover your ass.

When they kicked in, it didn't take long for him to notice. You were staring at the register blankly for maybe 5 minutes, but it felt like eons in food service time. Once your other coworker came in, Gene took you into his office to reprimand you, making sure to lock the door before he slumped down at his desk.

"Look, kid. I get it. I don't wanna be here either, but you can't be doing that. Not only is it against the law, but it's dangerous. If you're spacing out like that you could cut or burn yourself, and-"

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You ever talk to your cat and wonder if they can understand a goddamn word you're saying? That was basically this. You were just staring at how his nipples poked through his officially licensed Cinnabon® polo shirt. He was kinda cute, for a sad old man. Wait, fired? Did he just say fired? You snap out of it and make eye contact with him.

Gene sighed. "You haven't been listening to me, have you?"

You shook your head.

"I said, corporate has kind of a zero-tolerance policy for drug use on the job. I'm supposed to fire you, but," He got up from his chair and approached you, stroking your cheek with a pensive look on his face, no doubt a dumb, ditsy look on yours. "you're a good kid. I'd like to see you do better. I'm hoping there's another way we can work this out. Call it positive reinforcement, yeah?"

You nodded. Positive reinforcement. Sure, whatever.

He smiled. "Good boy."

You whined. Oh fuck, that felt nice to hear. He could tell.

Before you knew it, you were on your knees in front of him, servicing his cock with your mouth, messily. Drool was seeping out from your lips, pooling onto what you hoped was the floor and not your shirt. The weed was making this far more intense than you'd ever imagined. His taste was addicting. However deep you could take him just wasn't enough. You ran your tongue all over him, his head, his shaft, his balls. God, it was so fucking good. Shit, you were probably enjoying this more than he was.

That's not to say Gene wasn't enjoying it. He threw his head back and sighed. He rested his hand on your scalp and ruffled your hair, making you whimper around him. "That's a good boy."

Positive reinforcement indeed.

#anon #ask #saul goodman #jimmy mcgill #gene takovic #saul goodman x reader #jimmy mcgill x reader #gene takovic x reader #saul goodman smut #jimmy mcgill smut #gene takovic smut #brbabcs #breaking bad #breaking bad x reader #bcs #bcs x reader #better call saul x reader #brba x reader #intox kink #better call saul smut #breaking bad smut #saul goodman imagine #jimmy mcgill imagine #gene takovic imagine #breaking bad imagine #better call saul imagine

[imprettytired]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Before this next chapter begins I would like to say something:

I'm sorry about not getting this chapter out sooner. I've been dealing with a lot of mental health issues as well as getting distracted.

Tw: mentions of drugs, self harm, alcohol, arguing, and disordered eating.

Chapter 3:

Mammon walks around, taking in the familiar, yet new environment around him. He's never seen the Devildom in such a beautiful and bright way, albeit a bit blurry.

He tries his best to calm down, to understand that his brothers do in fact love him.

"Hey" he hears someone yell "you're Mammon right?"

Mammon turned, half expecting it was someone that he had borrowed money from and never paid back, but it wasn't.

Mammon's eyes lands on a group of demons, he doesn't feel like counting how many, but he knows that's it's more than one.

"You seem to be enjoying your self right now." He said now pointing at mammon's face.

Mammon didn't understand, was his face different? He begins to touch his face making the group of demons laugh.

"Dude I meant that you look high".

"Oh" Mammon mumbled

"I'm kinda glad I didn't send you home with anything to strong. Don't want your brothers to see ya'" now starting to calm down from his laughing fit.

"It's different from yesterday?" Mammon thought though he had no recollection of the previous night. The confusion must had been evident on his his face as a demon took a step forward.

"I really overestimated what you could handle last night"

"I wasn't that bad, was I?" Mammon asked, worried that he might have done something stupid.

"You kinda just sat on the couch and spaced out, you talked sometimes but nothing you said made any sense"

"Oh." Why didn't Mammon remember this?

They began to part ways but just then Mammon remembered something.

"Wait" the group of demons paused when he said that "do you know whose number this is?"

He showed them the unknown person that texted him earlier. He hadn't realized how sweaty his hands were before then.

"Oh yeah that's mine dude."

"Sorry I guess I forgot to put my name. Here." The demon takes the phone and updates the contacts.

----

Mammon was now on the roof of RAD watching as people began to trickle into the school. He doesn't plan on going to classes today

He thinks back to the events of earlier. Did he actually steal his brothers stuff? He doesn't remember, but he feels like it couldn't have been him. He wouldn't have taken something from everyone, would he?

"You know no one believes you right?" Yeah he knows.

He doesn't even believe himself.

----

Mammon gets home before any of his siblings could make it. Skipping school really helps with that.

He heads straight to his room as he fears that staying outside of it for too long would cause him to be blamed for something else that he didn't do.

Though it seems like that didn't work.

When he enters his room he sees that it was a mess. He doesn't remember leaving the room like this but with how his memory has been who knows.

He sighs, frustrated with himself for letting his room get like this. He begins to clean up.

----

"I don't even know where he could have hid it" he heard Leviathan "I searched through his entire room but there was nothing."

"He probably already sold it Levi" Asmodeous said "I swear he's such an ass."

"I don't know why we keep him around" belphegor added.

That one hurt Mammon alot. He felt his chest tighten, but he tries is hardest not to cry.

It doesn't help that the pills wears off leaving him with a numb feeling he has started to grow accustomed to.

He hated this feeling. He wants to go back to the happiness the pills had gifted him.

While this is cool he doesn't want to get addicted he doesn't worry too much though "this is only my third time" he thought "I can stop at any time. This is just for fun."

The pill, while replacing his sadness, didn't erase his anger. He grabs his wallet and some other things, and exits his room, but not before glancing at the mirror first. He looks like a complete mess.

He had no idea what he was going to say or do but he didn't intend to just leave without telling them something first.

He stopped when he saw his brothers, his breath now quick and shallow. Soon his brothers where looking at him. Mammon points at Leviathan.

"If you" Mammon pauses, trying his best to collect himself "ever enter my room for whatever reason I will beat your ass."

It caught his brothers off guard. Leviathan tries to say something but Mammon stops him.

"Don't speak." Mammon holds his finger up, hand trembling from rage "You're so convinced that I stole something from-"

"Because you did"

"NO I FUCKING DIDN'T LEVI." Mammon takes a step forward watching as his brother quickly takes some steps back.

"Why are you getting this mad to begin with?"

He's right. He usually didn't care. He has no clue why he was so angry, it wasn't about the room, but he says the first thing that pops in his head that would make even some sense.

"Because what you did to my room was disgusting. If you were so convinced that I stole your shit why didn't you find it? Why'd you have to destroy my room-"

"I didn't destroy your room."

"Don't interrupt me again Levi." Mammon is getting angrier. He looked around the room.

Fear

He loves that. They, or at least some of his brothers, are afraid.

He didn't want to hurt his brother. He loved him too much to ever hurt him.

Maybe their afraid he's gonna hurt Leviathan.

Which is valid.

Maybe their afraid Mammon will target them next.

Another valid point.

Or maybe their afraid of him. Just him.

He doesn't know what he looks like at this exact moment, but if it was anything like he saw in the mirror as he was heading out it was probably a complete mess. He didn't even sound the same.

"I swear Levi you better hope that you don't find your shit in your room because if I find out you messed up my room because your irresponsible ass couldn't look for shit properly I don't know what I'm going to do to you."

Mammon stormed out of the house. Slamming the door behind him.

----

Soon he feels no reason to angry, he was back to his happy self.

As Mammon begins to walk around aimlessly, he receives a message:

"Do you want to hang out?"

It was one of the people he had met earlier, although now he's forgot how he has the person's number.

"Sure"

He's sent a location, somewhere on the other side of town that he didn't feel like walking too, so he goes and finds the nearest taxi.

"Hey can you take me somewhere?"

Judging by the look on the demons face, he must have thought Mammon was crazy.

"Where?"

"Home."

"Where is home?"

He paused for a moment, remembering why he left in the first place.

"No where"

"Okay so where do you want to go?"

Mammon took out his phone to pull up the location again but stops as he looks at the new messages from his family group chat, ignoring the recent ones calling him names, he scrolls up a bit to a few hours ago. Many messages where to tell him that he missed the meeting, but he only one stood out to him.

Asmo had sent a picture of him with all the brothers and by the look of it, Mammon assumes it's from today's meeting.

His siblings were in the background doing various things, some not even noticing that their picture was being taken:

But there's was no Mammon.

If Mammon left forever would he truly be missed? It's such ,but for some reason this picture hurt him.

"Sir"

"Sorry sorry I'm so sorry umm" he pulls up the location of his new friends

"Here."

"Okay get in"

Mammon can't help but think about his brothers and how happy they are without him. He hadn't realized it, but even in his incredibly happy state he was still crying. It was a painful feeling but that wasn't the worst part, it wasn't even close to it.

The worst part for him is:

He's happy that they're happy without him.

----

He hands the driver some money, then stumbles out of the taxi. "Was there even taxi's in the devildom?" Mammon thinks. He turns to check,

But it had already left.

Mammon's eyes fall upon an old house that, if wasn't abandoned already, really should have been.

The decrepit house has had shattered windows, an uncared-for front yard, and graffiti tags all over the exterior of things to blurry for Mammon to make out.

It was probably what Diavolo had been picturing during one of his plans to have some of the abandoned houses in the devildom tore down a few weeks back.

The front door that was barely on its hinges flew open.

"Hey Mammon"

"You don't live here right?" Was the first thing to fly out of Mammon's mouth

"What? No. Dude who would live here? It's just somewhere to hang out"

Mammon opens his mouth, trying to get out an apology, but his mouth was too dry.

"Come on." The demon gestured to Mammon while walking further into the house.

Mammon walks up, careful as to not trip over any weeds or step on any sharp objects and enters the house.

Although the inside was in rough shape it wasn't nearly as bad as the front.

----

"Sooooo Mammon?" Mammon popped his head up from whatever he was drinking. He thinks it might be alcohol but he's not sure.

He was in the living room area of the house. Everyone was in random places in the room, Mammon sitting on a pillow on the floor as his new friends deemed it as the "best part of the house"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me something?"

"Ummm okay. What does cheese say when it gets it's picture taken?"

The room went silent. Then gradually everyone begins to laugh hard.

"Mammon your such an idiot" was said before the person began to start crying from laughing so hard.

This felt normal. Being surrounded by people who don't hate him. What would usually be insulting spat at him just became banter.

He was happy.

But he knows it can never last forever. Soon everyone calmed down.

"Hey Mammon there's something I need to tell you."

"What?" Mammon smiles expecting for another cringey joke to be told.

But there isn't.

"It's about the pills you've been taking."

#omswd #satan #asmodeus #belphegor #beelzebub #diavolo #obey me leviathan #mammon #obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #mammon angst #swd mammon #shall we date mammon #swd leviathan #om! leviathan #obey me asmodeus #om! asmodeus

[sugalaritae]

the safety zone (jhs) 1/?

summary: it's been exactly 15 years since you saw jung hoseok, your brother's high school best friend and the one who's virginity you took; you don't expect to have anything in common with him least of all a list of things like: living in the same city, enjoying sex (some might say a little too much... judgemental bastards), music, and fashion (amongst so many other things). you definitely don't expect a friendship to bloom or how complicated that friendship could be.

pairing: jung hoseok x f! reader (with background jeon jungkook x the same reader)

genre: the big three: (eventual) smut, fluff, and angst

au: brothers best friend, friends to lovers, based off the movie sleeping with other people, aged up characters (everyone is in their thirties)

rating: 18+

word count: 2.6k

warnings: another fic taking place in canada (this time ontario...which sort of needs a warning), slight mention of anxiety about returning to the town you grew up in, also anxiety over driving, talk of virginity (it's a social construct and absolutely stupid!!), drinking, legal drug use (marijuana), high school reunions (*shudders*), discussion of teenage sex, indigo namjoon and this fucking devastating hoseok

author’s note: oh look griddle has decided to start another drabble series!! this time for our dear jung hoseok because fucking hell i miss him already. i watched sleeping with other people today and i have been wanting to write a hoseok romance (heat waves pt2 is coming don't worry), so this idea slid into my head and then i decided to make it a drabble series and here we are. some of the chapters might just be texting or phone calls, some of it might actually be things that happen, some of them will just be smut (mostly hoseok fucking randos and reader fucking jungkook) i'm sorry for whatever this is. i hope you enjoy it just as much as i do. this is only LIGHTLY edited bc ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The road ahead of you is full of small hills. You’re fine with driving up and down them now but you remember what it was like to learn how to drive on these roads; the forest around you on either side, the long road down and then the seemingly longer road upward. It’s surprising how now, even years later, you can feel the slight bubble of anxiety in your chest. You can hear your brother’s voice from the backseat tell you that you’re being stupid for being anxious.

”Nothing is going to happen.”

”You do not know that!”

Still, you check the breaks as you’re going down the first hill and they’re working. So you take a breath and you remind yourself that you’re going to be okay.

You know the anxiety is also there because you’re returning home. For a stupid high school reunion, you can’t really believe that you let Namjoon talk you into this. Fifteen years is actually a stupid number that makes you feel old but still, you’re driving the three hours and you’re going to this stupid thing for at least an hour even if you don’t want to and even if you think it’s the dumbest fucking thing to do on a Saturday night.

Instead of concentrating on the anxiety you concentrate on the road ahead of you and the view that you have from the top of each hill. Slowly the town you grew up in begins to appear closer and closer.

You haven’t missed the town itself but you’ve missed the view.

Your phone beeps and for a brief moment you look down at it hoping that you’ll see a certain name flash across it but it’s only your Namjoon’s name. First a text and then the worst picture of him filling your screen. You press the green button on your car’s console.

“Hey.”

“How far out are you?” he asks.

“Like twenty minutes, why? You said the thing wasn’t starting until seven.”

“It’s not but there’s a few of us that are getting together for supper beforehand and I thought maybe, since you’ve been driving you would be hungry.”

This is your brother, kind and considerate while also being an incredible pain in the ass for dragging you to a place that you swore you would never go back to.

“Who is a few of us? Because I’m not super interested in eating with a bunch of guys that all thought playing on the high school soccer team was the best years of their lives like a fucking Bruce Springsteen song.”

“Springsteen never wrote about soccer players only baseball players.”

You groan, “whatever.”

“It’s a few from the team but I thought you’d want to come because Hobi will be there.”

Hobi. Hoseok Jung, the man who’s virginity you took (who also took yours but that’s irrelevant) the night of your prom night. The man who you left still sleeping in the hotel room he had paid for before you flew across the country to study art history. The man who you haven’t spoken to since that night.

Even though, sometimes, you still masturbate to the thought of him. Fifteen years later.

“Hello?? You still there.”

Your brother does not know that there was ever a you and Hobi and you hope that he never will. He’s not protective, just one of those things that you would rather keep to yourself because Namjoon has never really been great at not involving himself in your life (that goes two ways but again, not relevant).

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I’ll come. However, I want it on record that I’m still pissed off you convinced me to come to this thing.”

You hear him clear his throat as he puts on what you like to refer to as his professional voice, “Noted.”

“Thank you. Can I at least shower and change before I meet up with you guys?”

“Umma has your room ready and waiting.”

You sigh, “that’s the only good thing about this whole weekend, Umma and Appa.”

You miss dinner with Namjoon and his friends mostly because you don’t want to visit a restaurant that had been your regular hangout spot when you were a teenager, and you missed your father’s cooking; but now you regret it because instead of being in one of Namjoon’s friend’s car you are in being driven by your father to the school that you had sworn you would never return to. The whole situation makes you feel like a teen again. Well, except that you are dressed better than you had ever imagined you would be at 34.

“Have fun tonight. If you and Joon need a ride home because you’ve had too much to drink don’t be scared to wake Umma and I,” your father said with a smile on his face.

The whole situation is surreal and you laugh a little, nodding.

“Appa, if that happens then we’re going to walk home. I’m not going to wake you and umma up especially after she just said that you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Your father shakes his head and brushes the air with his hand.

“Don’t listen to her.”

“Appa!”

He gives you a smile that he shares with Joon as he returns his hand to the steering wheel and nods.

“Have fun,” your father says with a softness in his eyes that make you feel guilty for not coming home to visit more. They’re good people, your parents, and you are the daughter who can’t return home because she’s too busy.

“Thank you, Appa.” you say as you grip the car’s doorhandle.

You open the door and step out into the night air. Walking a few steps before you fix your blazer and wonder if maybe you should have worn a dress instead of a suit. Looking down at your heels you remind yourself that you look like the badass bitch that you are and whisper the mantra that your therapist had told you to say.

“I can do this, I am capable and I can do this,” you whisper feeling just a little ridiculous.

“You can do this,” a deep voice says behind you.

You turn around with a smirk already playing on your face knowing just who will be standing behind you. Sure enough, Hoseok Jung stands in front of you, one hand in his trouser pocket while the other one holds a joint and you watch as he brings it to his lips and takes a long toke.

“At least I don’t need drugs to calm me down,” you say and you watch as he meets your smirk with one of his own.

“You sure?” he asks with an arched brow and then holds out the joint and chuckles as you take it carefully.

You take a smaller toke at first but then follow up with another slightly longer one before slowly blowing it out. You’re not entirely sure if you should be concerned you don’t cough because that only means that your lungs are used to it and you don’t really want that.

“How you been?” he asks as you hand back the joint.

“Oh you know… busy.” It’s such a lame answer but it’s all you have. “You?”

He nods in response, then slowly rips off the lit end of the joint and closes off the end before tucking it into his blazer pocket.

“You look good. We missed you at the restaurant,” he says as his gaze lazily drifts over your body an action that makes you feel just that except it italics — good.

“Your shirt is ugly,” you say playfully because you do think it is actually a little hideous even though he’s pulling it off in a way that makes you just a little furious.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “it isn’t though. You like it.”

There’s a buzz already between the two of you and you know that it’s not just the weed. It’s a feeling that has been waiting for fifteen years. It’s mature now, a little more subdued, but still makes you feel excited at the possibilities.

“Come on, let’s go inside. Joon is waiting for us.”

You feel the pressure of his hand on your lower back and you step away from it as you slap at his arm.

“Okay Jung, I think I need a few drinks in me before you get to do that.”

He chuckles again and you’re suddenly aware that it’s not the laugh you remember him having, this one is deeper like it’s coming from his chest instead of his head where the higher, excited laughter you remember came from. You know it’s still there and you hope you get to hear it again. You always liked that laugh of his; it made you feel bright from the inside out like he was pulling happiness through the anxiety and settling all of your teenage hormones.

Hoseok and Namjoon met when all three of you were sixteen years old. Hoseok, a transfer from Vancouver, had joined the soccer team and become instant friends with your twin brother and his soccer buddies. You had hated them a little because they were loud and always kicked you out of the living room to watch bad movies teen-boy movies. Except you got to know them because Namjoon was your other half and you tended to meld your friend groups together.

You hadn’t really noticed Hoseok until the night of your prom, in the school gymnasium, and suddenly it was like you both became aware of the other at the same time. Your eyes locked on the dance floor and half an hour later you were pulled into the darkened hallway and being pushed against a locker as his mouth found yours. You had to pretend that nothing had happened as you all packed into the limousine and while everyone was getting progressively more drunk in one hotel room, Hoseok fumbled with your dress in another.

It should have been more awkward than it was. He was gentle and checked in with you and used his hands more than you thought he would.

“You know Hobi is moving to Toronto next month,” Namjoon says as the three of you walk in the general direction of your parent’s house.

Your system is still processing the mixture of alcohol with the weed even though it’s been three hours and you do not like the feeling that ricochets around your head with each step. Also your feet hurt. Heels are the devil’s creation.

You’re happy to be out in the fresh air though. Everything about the reunion was horrible, even though you only spent time at the table with your old friends, there were people there that you had never wanted to see again let alone make small talk with. You didn’t care how many children they had or how they had married their high school sweetheart.

“Oh? Really?” you ask turning to look at Hobi who is standing between you and your brother.

“Yeah,” he says with a wide grin, his gaze drifting just a little to your lips before he meets your gaze again. “I got a job there and I’m excited I think it will be a nice change from out west.”

You bump his shoulder with yours. “Congratulations. You’re going to have to take my number then because you need to know at least more than Yoongi, and Joon isn’t moving back for another two months.”

“I have other friends there,” Hoseok chuckles.

“No one as cool as me though,” you respond with another shoulder bump.

There’s a comfortable silence that settles over the three of you for a moment before Namjoon perks up and imitates Jessica Brookwood (one of the many annoying blonde girls you had gone to school with, who, at the reunion seemed just a bit too excited to have everyone together again) as he shouts, “OH MY GOD! The four of us all together in Toronto?! It will be just like high school!!”

The three of you burst into laughter and there it is — the laugh that lights you up. You grin wide as you watch Hoseok pause and bend backward as he laughs and gripping Joon’s elbow.

You’re surprised to realize that you missed him.

Your head has finally synced back up with the rest of your body by the time you change out of your suit and into your pajamas. You need water though and so you wander down into the kitchen only to find Hoseok also doing the same thing, except he’s only in boxers and a plain white t-shirt. Namjoon had insisted he stay at your family house instead of at the hotel because he had walked you home and the hotel was five blocks away. Hoseok had agreed but you hadn’t expected to have a run-in with him.

“Hey,” you whisper as you open up the cupboard and grab a glass out from it. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shakes his head, “cotton mouth.”

He hands you the glass he just filled from the brita jug.

“I haven’t drunk from it, promise.”

“Thanks.”

You settle against the counter as you take a sip and watch him.

“I mean it,” you start as you tap your fingers gently against the glass. “We need to get together. I know some pretty great places to eat.”

He smiles and nods as he puts the water jug back into the fridge.

“I would really like that,” he says softly as he moves to stand in front of you and holds out his glass to you. “To reconnecting.”

“To reconnecting,” you say as you tap your glass gently to his.

That familiar buzz slips between you and up your legs. You know that you could kiss him here, that he could press you against the counter and lift you up onto it so you could wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. You think about how he could slip his fingers into your cotton pajama pants and make you wet; and for a moment you think it might happen until your phone buzzes on the counter beside you breaking the eye contact you shared.

“Goodnight,” he whispers and gives you a nod before he slips out of the kitchen and down toward Joon’s room.

You take a deep breath to centre yourself before you look beside you and grab your phone. This time, the name you had hoped to appear on your screen all night is there.

Jungkook Jeon: Miss you. Can I see you?

Your palms are suddenly sweaty and you take a deep breath trying to calm down the excitement that he’s texted you for the first time instead of the other way around. You hated that you had followed your friend’s advice and had waited for him to text you before you texted him.

You: I’m out of town.

Jungkook Jeon: When are you back, baby? I miss your taste. I fucking miss you under me

You look around the room and listen for any movement that might surprise you, but the house around you is silent.

You: Tomorrow evening.

Jungkook Jeon: Can I see you? Fuck baby! It’s been too long and I need you

You let the mixture of self-loathing and desire you’ve long made friends with back into your chest as you type out your response.

You: I’ve missed you so much Kook. I need you more than you realize.

Jungkook Jeon: Good. Come back to my place before anywhere else

You: Ok!

Jungkook Jeon: Goodnight, baby. I’ll be thinking of you before I fall asleep

You: Tell me what you’re thinking.

©sugalaritae. Do NOT repost, edit, or translate any of my work. I only post on ao3 and tumblr

#jung hoseok fic #j-hope fic #jung hoseok drabble #j-hope fanfic #jung hoseok fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jung hoseok x reader #bangtantheatrenet #btswritersclub #btshoneyhive #thekpopuniverse

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

For the sake of being in the Halloween spirit, and also inspiration from your name-

Vampire!Bam x gn reader where Bam and reader are already together, and reader thinks it’s funny to make Bam dress up as Dracula for a Halloween party. 🤭 I could literally come up with more Bampire scenarios lmaoo I just feel like younger skater boy vamp Bam would be so cute 😭

Bite Me!

Bam agrees to go along with Y/N’s costume idea- on one particular condition.

Bam Margera X Gn!Reader

(Fluff)

2.7k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, alcohol, drug mention, biting, hickies,

An: Aaa happy early Halloween!! I’m not sure if you can tell from how I write this but I don’t go to too many Halloween parties XD I really liked writing for Bam early on in his Jackass career in this one, but yet again I like writing for Bam in general. I’ve never been super into the whole vampire romance type thing but I think writing this changed my mind! ;)

“Come on, Bam! One couple’s costume isn’t gonna kill you.” Rolling your eyes at the sound of your boyfriend groaning, you smeared on white face paint in the bathroom mirror, the sink below you crowded with containers of various products. “Its fuckin’ stupid! I mean,” He reluctantly peeled himself off of his spot on your bed, walking to the bathroom to squint over your shoulder at your reflection, “A ‘Bampire’? Really?”

You turned to him, your faces so close you swore you got makeup on him, “Yes. It was either that or Lamb Margera, and I didn’t feel like being Little Bo Peep. So there.” Not to mention, you thought he’d look adorable in the whole cape and puffy shirt getup. Planting a peck on his cheek, you went back to your makeup before you felt his hands snake around your waist as Bam leaned in towards you, mumbling against your neck, “Fine…but on one condition.” God, it was so easy to get to him. You nearly giggled as he continued, his teeth grazing your skin, “I get’t bite you tonight.” Oh, there was no way you could say no to that. “Alright…” You feigned annoyance, “Just not too hard?”

A Halloween party the two of you went to would be a good way for you to meet some of your boyfriend's new friends, you thought, gazing out the window as you drove along dim streets. As of one month prior he was a tv star, which you still hadn’t gotten over yet, but all you knew about what he did was the new and progressively grosser injuries he came home with. When you imagined his co-stars, you pictured a room full of cool extreme dudes that wear lots of baggy jeans and listen to edgy music.

So when you opened the door, you were kinda surprised. “Hey, sexy!” A man who could have been the real life Tarzan clad in the tightest patent leather playboy bunny costume, complete with satin bunny ears and black high heels, grinned at your boyfriend, leaning against the doorframe. Woah. You couldn’t deny, this guy pulled it off. Turning to lead you in, he shook his genuinely impressive ass a little, showing off the fluffy white tail he had on, “Bam has been telling us all about you!” Your boyfriend played it off like it was nothing but you nodded, trying not to make it obvious what you were staring at as you filtered through the crowd towards the kitchen. He chuckled this charming stoner laugh, leaning against a countertop cluttered with half empty liquor bottles, “I'm Chris, by the way.” You smiled when he shivered a little as his skin felt cold marble, giggling.

Talking over the loud music, you chatted with him and Bam for a while about the show and how well everything was going with the show- they might even be getting renewed another season in a few months! Oh, you were so excited to hear you leaned over and planted one on your boyfriend’s cheek. He rolled his eyes childishly, keeping up his tough guy exterior as you giggled. Suddenly, with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye- a rainbow blur followed by a fireball from the far side of the marble counter that lit up the dim, crowded room in a hot orange glow before, just as quickly, flickering out. You could hear Bam, and everyone else at the party, cheering for the guy in the multicolored clown costume as he landed with exaggerated bravado. One the applause died down, he made his way over to you and Bam, grabbing a couple beers from the fridge. Your boyfriend grinned, taking one from him, “That wath, like- theriously gnarly dude.” As much as he tried to downplay the lisp, you really found it kind of cute, but he’d kill you if you said that in front of his buddies. Bam threw his arm around you, “Thith ith Y/N. ” His huge pupils almost looked like a part of his clown makeup as he fist bumped you, speaking with a voice that sounded like he gargled tacks, “Hey, dude! Wanna beer?” Before you could answer, one was already in your hands, but it’s not like you would deny a beer from a clown. Bam chuckled as the clown left as soon as he arrived, “And that wath Theve…”

The party buzzed hotly around you, just so many people doing so many substances- a hotbed of sweaty activity. Not really listening to whatever you were saying to him at this point, Bam glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening as he gestured to someone just out of your line of sight to come over. A few moments later, you felt a broad shoulder brush against your arm and you turned. God, he looked straight out of one of those old westerns, especially with the way he tipped that black cowboy hat as he smirked, leaning down to you and drawling sweetly, “Howdy.” God, why does your boyfriend have so many hot friends? You chuckled as Bam took to introducing him, “Thith ith Johnny, n’heth probably the cooleth dude here bethideth mythelf.” Johnny chuckled, cracking a crooked smile, “Aww, you flatter me.” Thinking of something, he turned to look towards the living room, “Hey, me’n the fellas are settin’ up ‘Pin The Dick On The Jackass’ over there. Wanna join?”

That’s how you ended up holding a brass tack with a giant red construction paper penis dangling from your hand. You nervously stared at the bubble butt in front of you, not wanting to stick Chris and probably give him tetanus. “C’mon, c’mon- just do it!” He giggled, looking back at you with an unexpected level of giddiness. The people around you laughed and cheered as you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands shaky as you slowly moved them closer, until…

You felt Chris jump, his little bunny tail bobbing as he patted his chest, giggling, “Ooh!!” The room went wild at the sight of the paper dick swinging as he bounced on his toes as he chuckled, still managing to smile despite the tack in his ass, “Usually that feels pretty good, but that stung a little! Somebody get me a beer!” You couldn’t help yourself but to smile a little- these guys know how to have a good time.

“Really? A couple’s costume? Cute.” Ryan stood with his arms folded, leaning against one wall on the sidelines of the action. Bam rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah? N’whatre you thuppothed to be? Evel Kinevil?” Propping his helmet up on his hip, Ryan turned to him, grinning, “First off, I’m a motocross dude. Second of all,” He pointed to you in the center of the circle of people, “Y/N’s hand’s gettin’ pretty damn close to asses that aren’t yours. ‘You gonna do anything about that?” Ryan knew to play on Bam’s jealous streak concerning you, bored and wanting to see something happen.

Johnny gazed into the water of the big tin bucket, “Jesus…if you’re that bad with your mouth, I’d worry for Y/N…” Yanking his head up, water dripped down Bam’s forehead as he shot a glare at the cowboy, “Yeah, tho I’m gettin’ the damn apple!” It had been five minutes. Dunn chuckled, his teasing from earlier seeming to have done its job in making the party more interesting. You found it kind of cute to watch him frantically searching around for an apple, the fangs stuck to his teeth in no way helping him bite one. After what felt like forever, he whipped his head up, water spraying everywhere as he emerged victorious with the crisp apple wedged firmly in his teeth. “Alright dude!” Steve came up all smiles, patting him on the back with a gloved hand, leaning in, “By the way, I totally pissed in that water.”

“Are- are you theriouth?” Bam received a nod. Laughing, Steve got punched in the arm by your reasonably pissed off boyfriend (no pun intended), leading you to imagine this sort of thing was pretty routine for them. Gross. You could only wonder what other bodily fluids have been on him. As he stormed off to the bathroom, you felt a familiar hand grasp yours, leading you away from the hot crowd. Oh. Oh? Ducking down a dark hallway, you trailed behind Bam, not even thinking about how wet his hand was as the liquid dripped down your fingers.

Closing the door behind you, it was like you had just stepped into your own little world away from the chaos of the party. Music thumped through the walls softly, making your whole body vibrate as you leaned against the wall. You watched your boyfriend rinse his hair off in the sink under half burnt out vanity lights. Bam ran a hand through his soaked, dark curls, now half plastered to his forehead as he looked at you from the porcelain with those piercing blue eyes.

“Tho…” He stood up and took a step closer to you, his hands finding their place on your waist. Your noses nearly touched as he leaned in close to you, his breath warm on your skin as he raised an eyebrow, whispering against your ear with a fanged grin, “How ‘bout that bite now?” Heat rose from your toes all the way up to your cheeks as you blushed, flustered. He turned his head to the side, spitting the fangs out in the sink before dipping his head and closing in on your neck. You held your breath, but he seemed to hesitate for a second, watching your tense reaction with a smirk. He was playing with his food. Finally, after what felt like forever, you felt his teeth sink into your flesh.

You let out a whimper, not even noticing when the unlocked door to your side creaked open. Hell, you didn’t even pick up on it once the snickers started pouring in, too consumed by the purple, throbbing hickey Bam was presently biting into your neck. It took Chris leaning in, asking, “Hey, can I get one next?” To shake you out or your trance, whipping your head around at the crowd as they childishly giggled and gaged in mock disgust. Your face somehow turned redder than before, but Bam didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest, chuckling, “How much’a that did you guys catch?” Johnny grinned, leaning against the door jamb, “Just enough.”

#jackass #bam margera #johnny knoxville #ryan dunn #chris pontius #steve o #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hiya bestie, hope your doing well and staying hydrated! My current daydream is a lovely mix of 17. Miscommunication and reader telling Daryl D or Eddie M they are pregnant (angst/comfort vibe) Totally understand of you don't wanna.

Love from a silent follower 🔆

Choosing my man Eddie for this one since an idea immediately popped into my head lmao.

I can't believe he blew me off.

My legs bounce up and down as I watch my front door, waiting and hoping that it flies open any minute now, revealing my boyfriend in all of his late glory. He's never late, not for me and not for Hellfire Club. Those are the two things he holds so dearly to his heart, the two things he would never skip out on and the two things that are never pushed to the back burner.

So where is he?

Claiming he's at Hellfire Club for an impromptu meeting on a Sunday but then forgetting to inform Lucas, Mike and Dustin? They were shocked when I saw them at the grocery store just hours ago when I told them that Eddie had told me that there was a campaign today. I could tell by their fumbling that they weren't telling the truth and immediately trying to cover their asses and Eddie's, their loyal leader.

I hear a car door shut outside, my heart leaping in my chest but my anxiety only increases at the thought of telling him what's actually going on, why I'm so freaked and why I'm so pissed that he's late.

The door opens timidly in front of me, Eddie's sad and sorry smile immediately seen as he kicks off his shoes. "Hi sweetheart." He mumbles, shoulders drooping a bit and he shuts the door, making his way towards me slowly with clasped hands.

"Could've brought me flowers or something to make up for the fact that you're late." I fold my arms over my chest as his face drops, lips parting but I continue. "Ya know, and for blatantly lying to my face."

"L-Lying?" He stumbles, sitting down beside me on the couch, brows pulled together.

"You said you had Hellfire. Well, I saw the three musketeers at the store earlier and they looked like they were going to shit themselves trying to lie for you." I explain with a bitter laugh, nausea churning in my stomach. "If you're lying to me, great. But just like dump me now if you're cheating on me or you plan on continuing to lie to me because I have much bigger fish to fry right now." My voice is stone cold, Eddie's eyes widen a sobering amount as it begins to set in what this conversation is.

"Wait, no. I'm sorry, I did lie." He admits, reaching over to take my hands in his. "It's just really complicated and I don't know how to explain it to y-you. Fuck, if you could just give me like a day to figure it out and talk to some people then-"

"Is it drugs?" I cut him off and he pauses, brows ticking up in confusion. "Did you sell to the wrong person and now you're deep in debt?"

"No, fuck no, I'm not that stupid." He blows out a breath but I don't find any of this funny. What couldn't he tell me? What's too complicated for me, his beyond loyal girlfriend, to understand? "I don't even know how to vaguely explain it to you without fucking it up- um, Hawkins is cursed and there's a very small group of us, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley- you know Robin- and the kids, who actually understand what's going on." My mind spins as I think back to the terrible things this town has been through the last few years, the disappearances, the random killings, the overall weird vibes- it makes sense, but why is Eddie involved. "I just need them to explain it to you. I can't do that especially when you're threatening to dump me if I sound the slightest bit disingenuous." His voice cracks fearfully and I frown, reaching up to run a hand through my hair.

"I'm not just thinking about myself anymore, Eds." My voice quivers as frustrated tears prick at my eyes. "I don't know how to tell you this and I don't want you to be angry, I just-" I cut myself off with a deep breath, pressing my shaking hands into my knees. "I'm pregnant." His face immediately turns a shade of green, but not out of disgust, he's afraid.

"You're-"

"Pregnant. So forgive me for getting mad about you lying to me and being late." His face drops into his hands as he nods, his whole body tense in anxious energy.

"Oh my god. Why didn't you tell me?" He asks, his voice squeaky and I let out a bitter laugh, throwing my arms up.

"I wasn't going to tell you over the phone!" He immediately breaks a bit, laughing embarrassingly as he nods, waving his arms in front of me, brushing off his previous question.

"Right, right." He mutters, scooting closer to me and he pauses, his lips parted in shock as he tries to find the right words to say. I understand that this is a big thing to drop on him, that we both needed comfort and reassurance, but I'm the one who's been holding onto this, worried that he's out there lying and cheating on me. "A-Alright, we'll figure it out." He shrugs breathlessly, squeezing my hands in his.

"After you find a way to explain what's been going on." I add, watching him gulp but a soft smile stretches across my lips, calming his anxiety a bit as his eyes flicker down to look at my belly. Five different emotions pass through his expression at once, almost as if he's trying to prepare himself for the next nine months and so on.

"Yes, right- you're right." He laughs, leaning forward to rest his head on my shoulder. "You still love me?" His question makes me laugh as I wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Get over here. Of course I do."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr

#eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Another thought- cause I just can’t get Ransom and kitten off the brain (feel free to ignore 🤫)

I’m in my hurt-comfort feels, so I’ve been thinking of kitten getting her feelings a little hurt when she hears Ransom dumb friends or someone talking about another woman hanging all over Ransom or someone that Ransom slept with when kitten wasn’t in town. She tries to rationalize with herself- knowing they aren’t exclusive (duh- stupid Neil) but she’s being irrational and it hurts. How would Ransom react?

I see you are feeling those hurt comfort feels today babes! But these two are such a mess that I was excited to tackle this moment for them. Do you think Ransom be hooking up with other girls while Kitten is home in Connecticut with Neil?

What Has You Hissing, Kitten?

Warnings- 18+ Only Blog. Some mean Ransom and mad Kitten hiding their feelings with some angry fucking. Mentions of purchasing drugs. This is a cheater series!

Masterlist

You were at the bar seething right now. Enough so your expensive drink that Ransom insisted on purchasing for you was shot like it was a dollar jello shot instead of the top-shelf premium liquor meant to be appreciated.

It wasn't often you were in the city, but Ransom had promised to be quick, one of his "acquaintances" sending him a text promising to sell him the current illegal substance of choice. He had promised that it would be a good time for both of you and you didn't mind indulging once in a while.

But that was almost two hours ago and the small group of people, all reeking of too much money and time were just starting to wrap it up finally. The one delivering held up the little baggie of pills, smirking. "Better than the last batch I promise. I know you said last time you got this that girl Stacey was feeling so good she went down faster than that pool girl did for more of it."

That was enough to make you slam your glass down and grab your purse from the counter. You were done with this, it wasn't rational to be upset with Ransom sleeping with other women, it wasn't like you exactly stopped dating Neil. But it did, it made your eyes sting with tears and your throat choke at the idea of it.

Visions of Ransom tangling with ridiculously attractive women, getting some kind of pleasure from them made you unimportant in that moment and it hurt to even picture. You were about to push out the door when you were spun around, pinned back against the wall near the club's entrance.

"Where you running off to Kitten?" Ransom's tone taunted you as he loomed in your space, blocking out anything but his expression daring you to say anything to him about what was said. Smug blue eyes stared you down and you felt that hurt and guilt turn hot in your heart, anger sparking your tongue.

"Why should I hang around if you got all these women ready to fuck you so good Ransom? Go to one of them to get your dick sucked." You moved as if you were about to leave, but he is much larger, stronger.

You didn't stand a chance in leaving unless he was ready to let you go. Ransom shoved you into the clubs' bathroom, making you stumble over your heels but he had you secure enough to shove the two of you into a stall. "Aww Kitten, you fucking jealous? Cute when you get all fired up for no reason." He had your skirt already bunched around your hips and heavy hands grasping the back of your thighs to have you lifted.

"Fuck you Ransom." You spat out before grabbing that stupid smug beautiful face of his and kissing him sharply, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in retaliation for his taunting and his hand was harsh as it slapped at the bottom of your ass.

"Seems like you are already doing a good enough job of that yourself." He snapped back at you between kisses, shoving your panties aside to slap at your pussy to make you yelp, the pain causing pleasure to weep from you. "When I get you off, what are you gonna say Kitten?"

"Tell you you're an asshole Ransom, a trust fund prick. Those other girls say that to you?" Your tongue ran up his neck, biting the tendon while yanking his hair. But that didn't deter his mouth sucking hickeys on your neck, another slap to your ass making it burn.

"Other girls had their mouths stuffed full of dick, maybe I should be doing that to you more often?" You felt his now free cock pressing against you, harshly fucking into you till you flung your head back against the stall door, jarring it while hissing at the sudden good feeling being split open felt. "Nothing? No more spats and hisses from you Kitten?"

"Fuck, just fuck me, Ransom." You tried to take some control, wrapping your legs around him while he thrust into you, bouncing you on his cock in a way that made him seem like he was trying to get you off harshly. Ransom always seemed to know how to angle, where to hit the big fat head of his cock against you till you were going stupid for him.

His large hand went around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you tilt your head where he wanted you, your lips parted in a pant, your moans unhinged and not even trying to hide just how fucked you were because of him. "Is this the only dick in this pussy? I can gaurantee its the better dick fucking you." It was too much, the words, his actions, the venom in his tone as he taunted you.

It made you break, your pussy fluttering around him and your hands grabbing at him to hold on while he continued bouncing you on him. "Just like that, creaming all for me Kitten." His pelvic ground into you, rubbing at your clit that made you sob out in pleasure as he built you to the brink all over again.

"Ransom I can't-"

"Hush Kitten, I know you can, I've seen you cum just from my words alone." He kissed your mouth, lapping into your mouth to twist your tongue, make you whine and moan into him till his fingers rubbed at your clit, using a mix of your arousal and his pre cum to slip and slide against the little swollen nerve till it had you jerking in his hold, his other hand still tight on your neck, squeezing enough to leave prints of his fingers dancing against the column.

You came again, sparks dancing the bathroom lights till they blurred and you heard Ransom's vehement swears cursing you as if you brought him to his ruin, as if he didn't just bring you to yours and you sagged into him, the wall no longer strong enough for you, you needed his broad chest and arms circling you to hold you close, the mutters of your name pressed into your temple.

Both of you were breathing harshly, there was no escaping one another in the cramped bathroom stall, and put up that shield of anger that hid what you wanted but couldn't say. You could deflect though, pretend that none of this made you want more with him.

You couldn't want more, this was just a friend with benefits situation, and how could you be mad at Ransom for doing what you had to do while you stayed with Neil.

"Kitten, listen to me. You are the only one I have been with for months. That price was talking about shit that happened before I ran into you again."

You put on a smug smirk. "You can do what you want Ransom, I was just getting you worked up." Game back on, this was the safest way for you.

Ransom gave you a knowing look but smirked back, willing for now to continue playing along. "Sure Kitten, whatever you say."

#ransom and kitten #ransom drysdale au #ransom drysdale #knives out #knives out au #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #amber writes #sweater writes #amber answers #i love these two messes more then i should #they just cant stop fucking each other even if it hurts people in there lives #oh well #chris evans characters #ransom drysdale fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction

[eddiessidegirl]

Your DMs are always welcome, my dear. Ohh! I almost forgot! I have a prompt for you. Congrats on the followers! You deserve it 💕 I wanna do a fun sleepover too, really soon.

Could I possibly request Eddie with an alt/punk girlfriend? I don't usually see a whole lot of Punk!Reader and it would make my week. Something fluffy and fun, no pressure.

Omg, this took forever and I’m so so so sorry 😭 please forgive me. I hope this is good, and makes sense.

For Want Of

Summary: Punkrocker Tara is in love with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie x Punk/Alt!Fem Reader

Warnings: Standard 18+ for my blog, this is a fluff piece, angst (if you squint), mutual pining, minor drug use and drinking (typical teen shit), let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 4166 words

Alarm clock blaring, record player left in the final stages of playing last nights record, and the person sized lump on the bed under the covers. This was how Tara’s mother found her in the morning on this particular Friday morning. “Tara, I swear to Jesus himself if you do not get out of bed this minute, you’re losing car privileges this weekend and you will not be able to go hang out with your little friends. You’ll be forced to clean out the garage with your father.” A cigarette dangled from her mothers thin, pursed lips her fake attempt at being a good mother was such a lie. She was only mad that her stupid church friends heard that her only daughter was out at all hours of the night hanging out with other teens who dressed like she did: coloured hair, dark makeup and listening to Misfits on full blast while driving the streets of Hawkins, Indiana. But most of all her mother hated hearing she’d been seen talking to and being around a one Eddie Munson. He was a drug dealer, a cult leader, and he listened to “that God awful music” as her mother put it.

“Will you lower your fucking voice? I heard you the first time you bellowed at me like an hour ago. Fucks sake.” Her voice draped in sleep, mascara and eyeliner smudged and giving her the raccoon look. Tara pushed the blankets back and slid into her jeans and pulled a Ramones shirt over her head - not bothering with a bra.

Jonathan was already waiting outside for her, mug of coffee in hand for her to drink while they drove to pick up Robin, his little brother Will in the back seat, his newest companion guide for his game night with his friends in hand, he didn’t even notice her sliding into the front seat. “So, is today the day? Or are you never gonna tell him? I mean Graduation is coming up quick, and you’re not gonna be here forever,” He asked her, he’d known she’d had a thing for the town drug dealer for ages but never worked up the courage. Sure she could throw down with assholes who grabbed her ass but Munsons’ chocolate eyes just made her stomach do flips. Her arm reached across the front seat and she shoved her best friend.

“Shut it, Byers. What about you and Wheeler? You guys gonna cut the shit and finally figure out your college bull? Or are you just gonna pretend that you still haven’t gotten your rejection letter to Emerson?” He shot her a nasty look, but it softened when he saw she was just poking fun at him, she laughed teasingly an scooped her hair into a bun.

They secured Robin who was all giggles about this girl Vickie and she loved how happy her friend was, being yourself was hard in this town but the three of them did their best to never hide their true selves around each other. It just sucked big time that the rest of the town didn’t subscribe to the same thoughts and feelings.

-

Tara had turned 18 in December, and while Eddie was still in high school he was a super senior, 19 going on 20. She’d liked him ever since she could remember, but it became more prevalent when he turned up to school when she was 13 and he 15, his buzzed hair grown out and dressed in a battle vest and leather with heavy metal band pins all over it. She herself had always been more into the punk scene. She’d seen the Clash in concert in Chicago with Jonathan and they were planning to she The Cramps this summer before she moved for college. But she could tolerate his music tastes, if only he paid her an ounce of attention aside from selling her dime bags here and there.

She’d gotten lost in her thoughts and wasn’t paying attention as they exited the car, “watch it freak I don’t want to catch whatever it is you have wrong with you.” Carol Perkins cackled and turned back towards her friends, brushing off pretend dirt as they walked away from the group. Tara flipped them all the middle finger and shoved her bag further up her shoulder. “Christ, you’d think she’d have levelled out after Wheeler smacked her when she made fun of her for dating you…” Tara muttered to Jonathan. Will had quickly gotten out of the car and was running towards his little nerd herd, the four of them colliding around Eddie and his friends, collectively they were the Hellfire Club, the only Dungeons and Dragons club in all of Hawkins and subsequently made them the butt of every joke, but Tara knew that after the years of trauma those kids had suffered they deserved too feel some happiness even if they were mocked behind their backs.

Robin nudged her back “can you go get us some weed for this weekend? I can’t get caught with it in my room again, my parents are already on edge after the last time.” There was a smile on her friends lips that said this was more than a transactionary meeting that would be happening.

A small huffing noise came from Taras throat. “Later. I’ll pop a note into his locker for a lunch meeting.”

Which she did, it was a folded triangle note with few words “Forest clearing. Lunch. -T” Eddie pocketed the note, grinning, Tara was his favourite customer, not only because she was a consistent buyer which made it possible to do upkeep on his van but also because she was a person who didn’t judge him, her being hot was just a bonus. And what Tara didn’t know is that he had a thing for her too, and she’d never noticed that he gave a deep discount on all her purchases. Hell, she could ask to walk on his back in her Docs and he’d say “yes please” and ask her to do it again.

-

Lunch rolled around and both parties were walking enthusiastically towards the meeting spot, Eddie, lunch box in hand and Tara, with her headphones on listening to a mix-tape that Byers had given her to check out.

She was walking head down and collided with something hard, but also soft, clearly a person. She took off her headset and yelled “Hey! Watch where the fuck you walk asshole!” But when she actually focused on who she was yelling at it her whole face went beet red, in fact if you’d placed her face next to an actual beetroot you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between the two. It was Eddie. He’d been standing by the bench watching her walk towards him the whole time and when she smacked into him he lost it. His body was rocking back and forth with laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to compose himself, one of his ringed hands clutching the picnic table for stability.

“I’m so sorry, that was actually one the best things I’ve seen, T.” His voice slightly hoarse from laughing, “y-you just..and then…oh my god.” And he was off again.

Tara tried her hardest to be mad, but she couldn’t, it was funny, and the hard shell exterior she had always cracked a little when she was around Eddie. “Shuddup Munson…” she mumbled, her mouth in a smile, reaching to punch his arm lightly. “I’m supposed to be here buying weed, not making you piss yourself.”

He sat down and placed his elbow on the table, his lunchbox beside him, hand tucked under his chin, “ooo a woman serious about her business.. I love it” his eyes sparkled and watched her sit, clocking the fact that’s her chest jostled freely but focused on her face. “How much are we talking?” His nimble fingers opening the lunch box, gesturing to the nuggets inside.

“An eighth’ll do.. it’s for Robin, Jon and I for the weekend, we’re going to watch movies and play some pool at the Byers since their moms going to Hoppers this weekend,” he’d nodded and starting doling it out, it was like time slowed down and then sped up because before Tara knew it her mouth was speaking words and she couldn’t stop them from coming, “y-you should come too, Jon’s bringing Nancy and Robin will be bringing Vickie, I really don’t want to be playing pool on my own.” The blush had come back just as strong only now it was creeping down her neck and disappeared into her shirt. What was she doing? This was stupid. She told herself of course he didn’t wanna hang out with a bunch of 18 year olds.

“Sure, I mean, I’ve got nothing better to do, just running campaign tonight and then free all weekend.” She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but it didn’t seem like it. Her heart raced. “It’s on me since I’ll be there, don’t worry about paying me.” He handed her a bag that was clearly more than what she asked for and got up. “See you there, sweetheart” he called out, and disappeared into the trees back to his van to calm his nerves. He was basically going on a date with the girl he liked and he couldn’t believe it.

“I didn’t even tell him when it was…” Tara couldn’t find him to tell him and she didn’t want to be late to class, since the teacher was friend of her mothers and she didn’t need more trouble before the weekend.

-

Saturday evening arrived faster than she thought it would. Bad Religions’ ‘We’re Only Gonna Die’ played on the speaker, Nancy was learning how to play pool with Vickie, Robin teaching both of them, Jonathan and Tara drinking a beer in the corner laughing every time one of them launched a cue ball off the table and had to get it. The air in the room was hazy with the smell of weed. Everyone was there, except Eddie, maybe he’d forgotten or maybe he just didn’t want to come after all. Besides why would he want to hang out with them when he could be hanging with his band mates or anyone else for that matter.

Eventually though, the windows lit up and at first everyone thought it was Joyce come back but then they heard Dio blaring from the vehicle and they knew it was definitely not Joyce. Tara went outside to meet Eddie, the air outside only slightly chillier than the house, plumes of smoke exiting behind her form.

“I see you guys started without me, it’s ok I brought extra provisions” he motioned to the bag of weed in his pocket and the beer in his hand. Eddie tucked his free arm into his pocket and tilted it towards Tara. With the high she was experiencing being full force she was more apt to be nice to him, and she took the elbow he extended.

“Didn’t think you were gonna come, Munson.” Her eyes were blissed out and a smile across her features, she led him into the house, showing him where to put his stuff before going to the makeshift game room that they’d thrown together for the festivities.

A low chuckle escaped his mouth and he leant down so only she could hear him “I’d never miss an opportunity to hang out with my favourite client, especially when she’s dressed like this” he spun her slowly so to not give her stomach a bad turn, she’d forgotten she’d put on a leather skirt and a lacy tank top with her army jacket, it wasn’t even intentional, at least not consciously anyways. The blush she experienced the prior afternoon returned. He was slowly breaking her when it came her to attitude that she’d come to have after idolizing Joan Jett, Eddie Munson, it was clear would be the death of her.

“Can it Eddie,” she told him laughing the whole time, “get your ass in there so I can beat you and Byers in a game.” He let her lead the way and Eddie was met with cheers, he set the beer down and laid out the weed for replenishment. Tara told Jonathan to go the table and set up a game for the three of you now that Robin and Vickie had vacated it, opting to sit in the living room and watch movies instead.

-

The game was progressing well, Tara was up by a couple points, ‘How Soon is Now’ was playing quietly, and she was swinging her hips to the beat, while she lined up her shot. Eddie was staring. Hard. Nancy was quietly talking to Jonathan something about wanting to go home so she could get some yearbook work in before Monday. Robin and Vickie were still in the living room. Jonathan told Tara and Eddie that he’d be back soon.

“Is this how you pictured your Saturday night, Munson? Hanging out with us listening to punk, playing pool?” She looked over her shoulder at him, a glazed look in her eyes but her mouth turned up in a smile, she’d never admit it but the air felt electric when it was just the two of them and the high made it better.

He grinned back “well, no, but I’m having fun and the view is amazing which is a bonus.” Eddie’d moved closer to her his hand next to hers on the pool table, his lanky frame towering over her smaller one, especially since she was slightly crouched from planning her next play.

Maybe it was the high, maybe it was the few beers she ingested but the room was hazy, and even though she knew people were in the room next to theirs, they felt immensely alone, and they were never alone in any capacity apart from her buying. She straightened and stood up, in the soft warm lights of lamps and with the smoke swirling around him, Eddie looked entirely different. Ethereal almost. Her eyes darting around his face as she took him in. He was far different from his school persona, and his dealer one as well. Softer, but maybe it was the weed.

Eddie on the other hand was only high, he had to drive home so he hadn’t been drinking but he too was focused intently on her face. Tara was so very different from everyone, even himself, a metalhead. But he knew a lot of it was a mix of rebellion and self expression. Her parents were overbearing and hyper religious. And he’d definitely knew there was a softer side to her that she didn’t show unless she was among friends or alone. In public, she was brash, loud. In private she was kind, funny and cared deeply for her friends no matter what they were going through.

Finally when the game was finished, and she’d rightfully so kicked his ass the two of them made their way to the living room, Robin and Vickie had fallen asleep on the couch leaving only the recliner to sit on. Neither of them had the heart to wake the sleeping couple, Eddie was quietly insisting on sitting on the floor and Tara had to interject, “uh, no, I’m not watching…” she looked over the VHS box that he’d tossed to the ground, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in this chair alone, get your denim clad ass up here.”

Shaking his head back and forth in a self argument way he eventually climbed into the seat of the chair and Tara settled half on his thigh and half on the arm of the chair, Eddie swiped his arm behind her and put her wholly in his lap. “Don’t need your ass cheek falling asleep mid-movie.”

The two of them sat in silence, save for a few squeaks or soft ewws when something really gross happened. One particular scene when the teen girl was strung up and Leatherface was coming at her with his chainsaw Tara tucked her head into Eddie’s neck and out of instinct, he pressed his mouth to the top of her head and made sure to tell her when it was over. Butterflies had erupted everywhere in her body at this gesture, she still didn’t know if it was friendly or more. It didn’t really matter at this point.

Instead of lifting her head, she slid it so her face was forward, the movie was almost over and Tara was getting sleepy, the amount of weed she’d smoked and the beer she drank starting to weigh heavy on her senses in earnest. Eyes sliding shut, she fell into a not very restful but deep sleep, Eddie sat awake the whole time until the movie ended and then he too fell asleep, Tara’s body warmth the perfect blanket.

-

Loud voices woke everyone in the living room early, Robin and Vickie disentangled and tossed Tara look, both had their eyebrows raised. The only person still seemingly asleep was Eddie, Tara tried to undo his grip but it was too tight.

“HEY! EDDIES’ VAN IS HERE! Eddie I need help with my character” a voice rocketed through the house as the door opened, it was a one Dustin Henderson, and Munsons eyes flew open.

“Shit. Just a second Henderson, lemme go tame the beast.” He moved to get off the recliner and forgot Tara was minorly tethered to him, pulling her forward and then the two of them collapsing into a pile, Robin cackling, wiping the leftover eyeliner and mascara from her face as the two of them disengaged their limbs. Tara flipped Robin off but laughed along with her, the situation was really funny, only now her ass was bruised from the fall.

She stumbled to the kitchen, eyes bleary with sleep still, “Yo, Jonathan, is there any coff..ee?” Only the person in the kitchen wasn’t her best friend, it was Joyce and Hopper at the kitchen table both sipping their own mugs of dark coffee.

“Jonathan is in his room, but there’s plenty of coffee, dear.” Mrs Byers gave Tara a soft smile and nodded towards the coffee pot. Pouring herself a cup she stretched and cracked her back, the position shed laid in all night had caused her back to be sore, but she was well rested, she did have a good pillow after all.

Hopper cleared his throat “so…how long have you and…” he gestured to where Eddie had gone to fix his hair “…been a thing?” Tara shook her head and explained that they were just friends. “Didn’t seem like just friends the way you were clinging to each other like your life depended on it.” he chuckled as Tara high tailed it out of the kitchen to the respite of the living room where she in turn was grilled for the entire time Eddie was outside talking to the kids about the campaign.

-

Tara took a few days off from everyone, she needed a clear head about what had happened between her and Eddie, did he really like her or was he just being nice to her because she buys weed from him? On the third day, her bedroom phone rang continuously for two hours, but instead she turned up her music and just kept thinking, focusing on the what ifs of a relationship that didn’t technically exist yet, if ever.

Eventually the room darkened as did the outside, her record player turned down low so her parents didn’t come up and confiscate it. “I really need to find my own place, I’m old enough, besides I hate this wall color…” her parents had painted it in ‘soft salmon’ what ever the fuck that meant and they wouldn’t ever allow her to change it.

“I dunno about you but I like it.” Came a voice from behind her, startling Tara and causing her to fall sideways off her bed. “Fuck, shit, are you ok??” It was Eddie he hauled ass through the rest of her window and around her bed to check on her.

“What the actual fuck are you doing in here?! Are you trying to get shot at?! My dad has a rifle in the goddamned linen closet.” Tara was pissed, but it was wavering as he held onto her hand and waist as he helped her to a standing position.

His brow furrowed, “you weren’t answering your phone and I got worried, that maybe something happened or that you were mad. They told me they kinda interrogated you after that morning and that was why you left.” He looked so mad for Tara and she couldn’t stay mad forever. She just kind of nodded and sat down.

“It was part of it, but also, I just needed space, to…think y’know?” His hair shook as he nodded and joined her on the bed. His hand taking hold of hers, letting her know he was there for her. “I’m confused about what happened or I guess didn’t happen and I got into my head about it.”

The two of them sat in the emptiness of sound for a bit, the record ending and dead air was the background noise for a bit, both of them thinking, Eddie was the one who broke the silence first, “look, Tara, I like you ok? And I got mad at them for being so nosy, it was none of their business.” He shuffled closer on the bed, holding onto her hand like a life preserver. His eyes searching hers. Hopeful.

Tara’s mouth was dry, but there was a moment when she thought she was going to throw up, but she knew nothing would come up. This was the moment she’d been waiting for forever. Through all the teasing from her friends, through 5 years of stares. “I like you two Eddie,” Tara’s face a shade of maroon, Eddie’s beaming, neither of them had expected this result. Tara expected to go off to college and have to find someone else to be with.

A few seconds passed, Eddie broke the silence, “so, are you going to kiss me?” His lips turned up in a wry smile. Tara shook her head and leaned forward, closing the gap between them. Pressing a kiss his his full lips, Eddie’s arms found a way around her waist and this felt like home. Her own hands found a way up to his mess of curls, but before they could go any further Jonathan’s voice called out from the door.

“Fina-fucking-lly.” Him and Robin had shut eating grins on their faces, they were beyond happy for their friend. But most importantly they didn’t have to listen to her pining over him in the mornings anymore.

“Shut it.” She retorted, a smile plastered on her face, Eddie’s hidden since he was distracted by her neck but she could feel a smile of his own on her skin.

1986, it turned out was their year.

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#eddie munson #stranger things #Eddie Munson x punk reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #request #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fix it #syddsaturn #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x oc #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff

[koolkat9]

Prompt time! Angst- 29 or 39 - ENGPORT. Thanks~

Prompts: 29. “You deserve better.” and 39. “You just threw four years of friendship out the window.” (though I modified this one a bit to make it make sense)

Rating: T

Pairing: EngPort

Word Count: 1244

Author’s note: Implied alcoholism and drug abuse. Arthur is not doing well mentally. 

Read on AO3

Exactly as Planned

“Fuck off,” Arthur growled in a desperate attempt to shield himself with the door.

“You’re not weaseling your way out of this one Arthur James Kirkland.”

Ah. The full name. He had already known that he was pushing Afonso when the Portuguese man had shifted from pet names to just ‘Arthur.’ That had been his warning, but he didn’t take it. Whether it was because of his hangover or his own stupidity, Arthur’s brain was too busy rolling around his skull to figure it out.

“Watch me.”

“Can’t you stop being a stubborn ass for once in your life?”

Arthur let out a bitter laugh. “I thought you’d know better than to think that love.”

“I don’t need your witty remarks, Arthur.”

“I thought you always liked my wit.” If Afonso was going to push, so could Arthur.

Afonso gripped the door. Arthur had a nagging feeling if he didn’t, Afonso would probably slap him. Violence wasn’t ever a part of their relationship, but they were nations, and violence seemed to be in their blood. Apparently, that leaked into even the most loving relationships.

“I’ve had enough of your smart mouth,” Afonso snarled.

“I don’t even want you to be here.”

Afonso’s arm muscles slackened, but he kept his hand resting on the door. “You do realize what you’re doing right? You’re going to throw away centuries of love, of friendship, out the window? For what? Another bender? Alcohol, drugs? You’re smarter than that Arthur. You know it’s just fleeting–”

“It’s none of that. This has been coming for a while,” Arthur spoke in a hushed, grave tone, “You deserve better.”

“Arthur…”

Afonso and his stupid green eyes, like the grassy fields of their childhood, both held such warmth that made Arthur feel safe. He slammed the door before he could fall into the trap of a loving embrace and empty promises that things would be okay.

As Arthur retreated into the darkness and the stench of booze, Afonso’s muffled voice called: “Fine, I’ll give you some space. But whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there for you meu querido.”

Arthur didn’t reply. He melded himself to the couch with the intent of never moving from it again. Even all the way inside, Arthur could hear Afonso’s retreating footsteps. Unable to dislodge the lump from his throat, Arthur let himself cry into his pillow.

- - -

Months went by, and Arthur refused to talk to Afonso about anything beyond business. Afonso in turn made no move to shift the topic elsewhere.

But just because Afonso made no move to approach Arthur about their argument and what Arthur was doing to himself didn’t mean he hadn’t been watching him.

Every meeting, Afonso watched Arthur from afar, noting how, with each passing day, his skin became pastier, his eyes more weighed down by purplish black tiredness, and his hands shakier than Afonso had ever seen them. He’d give him a few more weeks, and then maybe he’d try to confront Arthur again, this time much calmer.

When lunch rolled around, and Afonso looked away for a second, Arthur had disappeared. Afonso’s stomach froze over as he frantically looked around at the masses of his fellow nations. No Arthur.

Afonso rushed out of the hall only to find it empty. So he headed towards the only other place he could think of; the bathroom.

On the grimy tiles, Arthur lay motionless, face white as snow, but sweat pricking his forehead. Numbly, Afonso scooped him up and carried him to a nearby couch just outside in the hall. When Arthur looked as comfortable as he could, Afonso grabbed his bottle of water and wet a paper towel to wipe up the sweat.

Gently, Afonso pulled the paper towel over Arthur's forehead. “Amor...é hora de levantar,” he murmured into Arthur’s ear as he cleaned Arthur’s face, “You need to drink something. Come on.”

Arthur groaned, burying his face into the couch. A ghost of a smile made its way onto Afonso’s face. “Now’s not the time to be stubborn meu coelho.”

“Uhgnnnn. My head is pounding.”

“I figured. Now drink. Then we can go back to the hotel room, and you can rest with the lights off.”

Arthur let out a grunt but allowed Afonso to guide him into a sitting position. He lifted the water bottle, tipping it just enough for Arthur to get a few small sips.

“Better?” Afonso asked.

“Barely…”

Afonso sighed with a tired smile. “Well, you can rest all you want when we get to the room.”

“But the meeting–”

“You’re in no condition to be at a meeting.”

Afonso could barely make out what Arthur grumbled next, though it sounded something like ‘my fault.’

“You’re struggling,” Afonso said carefully, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“And how can I not?” Arthur snapped. “I’m the one who chose this path. I’m the one who's so damn stubborn that people can't stand to be around. I’m the one who decided to get high and blackout drunk. I’m the one who chooses to not get help. I’m the one who pushed the only good things I had left in my miserable life away because I’m so selfish, and they deserve better.”

Arthur curled up in a ball, face buried in his knees. Even after all these centuries, Arthur still hid in any way he could when confronted with vulnerability.

Afonso couldn’t tell if the Brit’s shoulders were shaking because he was crying or because of what he had done to his body the night before. Afonso didn’t want to dawdle on the particulars, Arthur needed rest. But first…

“You’re struggling,” Afonso repeated, “At this point, I don’t think you’re going to be able to stop these destructive habits by yourself. I can’t make you get help. None of us can. All we can do is encourage you. You may be the one choosing to not get help, but it’s never too late to reach out. And if you do, you have a family and a lover who will be with you every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Arthur replied tightly.

“Oh meu coelho, you hurt me either way. Don’t you realize that? Yes, it hurts me to see you in pain, seeing you…hurt yourself like this. And it makes me angry. But it also hurts me when you push me away.” He sat beside Arthur and pulled him into his arms. “You’re the one who has kept me going all these years. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Arthur pressed his face into Afonso’s shoulder, and the question that had hung in the air just minutes before was answered by the wet patch growing on Afonso’s blazer.

“There are options to get out of this Arthur. And I’ll help you find the best ones. But I need you to promise me you’ll try. We both know this kind of thing isn’t easy, and there will be fallbacks, and I’ll try to be understanding. But I need to know you’re going to try.”

Arthur was silent for a long while. Not even terribly hidden sniffles were heard like before. “Okay…” he finally said, “I promise I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

They cuddled for a little while longer until Arthur relaxed into Afonso's hold, and his eyes were starting to flutter closed. As carefully as he could, Afonso picked Arthur up without waking him and began the trek up to his hotel room.

Translations:

meu querido = my darling/dear

Amor...é hora de levantar = love…it's time to get up

 meu coelho = my bunny

Prompts Closed

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