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madelynraemunson · 8 months

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

Chapter 002: Wing Man

You start your first night of work. Eddie requests a private show. But not for him; for his friend — a rich and lonely bachelor who can’t seem to get over his ex.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020

word count: 7.2k words

NSFW — lap dance, steve creaming his pants, abusive relationships, talks of trauma, steve and reader trauma dumping lol

pairing: lonely bachelor!steve x fem!exoticdancer!hargrove! reader (and lowkey eddie)

author’s note: yes we get with steve before we get with eddie, but we will get there okay??? 🫣🫣🫦 also don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t homie hop in hawkins because these men are SO FINE

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

“Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance. Take you down another level, and get you dancing with the Devil” -Wicked Games by The Weeknd

♡

A sultry black set.

A hot pink set with bows. Caribbean blue. Army green for the military men. Some cuffs. Personal wet wipes. Sanitizer. And lastly, a stethoscope to play the part.

“I can’t believe you accepted a caregiving job,” Max scoffs as you both make your way out of Scrubs 4 Less. “Do you even have healthcare experience?”

Your stepsister loved to mask her prying with carefully crafted screening questions. Even if they sounded pessimistic.

“Sure I do,” you shrug. “Remember that summer I cared for Great-Aunt Dotty when she had Parkinson’s? Figured maybe it’d be similar.”

“I guess.”

You take it upon yourself to remind Max that you are certified in CPR. And with that cert, you saved numerous people from drowning as a lifeguard. Of course that was for one year during high school, but it was experience nonetheless.

"Well, what about the heavy lifting?"

"Easy. All in the legs." you pat your thighs. Despite being calm on the outside, you are getting nervous now. About everything.

"Takes a lot of core strength too. And upper body."

It's like she knows what you actually will be going to be doing. However, there are parallels between both professions, and you made sure you made a choice like that so you wouldn't have to lie as much about the physicality of things.

"You seemed to have gotten the job pretty fast,” Max notes.

"Nursing homes are really short staffed. Especially with the pandemic and everyone leaving from all the burnout, they’ll take anybody who qualifies."

"Did they even determine if you do?"

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of people?”

You know you’re being manipulative. You can spot a manipulator from a mile away. But this little white lie is for you and Max’s own good. Even if it means selling her a fake story. Even if it means lying. Living a double life.

“An abusive home life and all-timers isn’t comparable.”

“Have you considered that some people with Alzheimer’s are combative as well?”

“And you had to accept the graveyard shift?” she pries further, ignoring all your valid points.

“It pays more,” you answer sharply, readily. “Two dollar shift differential.”

“Oh my god, we’re practically millionaires.”

The sudden change in Max's behavior is really catching you off guard. She was optimistic on her birthday. A little withdrawn when the weekend was approaching. Now the pain is evident it is almost unbearable. Sure, Billy isn't a problem anymore, but with all of his chaos, Max has found solace in using her hobbies as coping mechanisms. Her body needs that adrenaline, and now you have cut off access to all of it.

Max can't go surf. She can't run around freely just yet because she doesn't know good routes and trails. She doesn't have friends in the area besides you, Robin, and Vicky. She misses Donovan.

Max is hurt. You know she is, but you don't blame her. Still, you’ve had it.

“Hey.” you snap.

Max halts. She knows she went too far.

“I know it's sucky... the situation we're in right now," you sigh. "But I'm doing this for us, remember? It’s temporary. We just need a soft place to land, and this is paving the way towards that.”

At least that’s something you didn’t have to lie about: It’s a sacrifice you were making for her.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

Orientation day comes in a blink of an eye.

Eddie is giving you a tour of Hellfire while discussing how his particular ‘system’ works. You’ve got to give him credit. His system makes sense.

“I don’t ask my girls to pay to dance here,” he explains. “I just think that’s bogus. Also, it’s Hawkins. Not that many competitors, so if I let you dance here, you’re automatically staff.”

You two walk down the hall. Eddie shows you where you would clock in and out, promising you your punch-in code by the end of the week. You learn that everyone gets paid out every Friday, because in Eddie’s words, “fuck that biweekly shit”. Tips go home with you every night, but you are expected to help tip out staff members patrons don’t really see or interact with. Therefore: Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy whose House Mom, Henry, and Argyle. The boys make their money from bussing and serving. Jonathan earns tips from POTIONS.

“I figured as much.”

You graze your hand along the kukris on the wall as Eddie talks. He stops to take note of it and gives you a boastful smile.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

“That’s the perk of owning your own business,” Eddie says exuding a lazy stretch to graze the kukris himself. “You choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes.”

He ponders for a while longer.

“Most of the time at least.”

Clearly a majority of the money also went to the chicken wings.

Eddie leads you to back of the house where he then proudly showcases his wing menu to you. There’s the Hawkins Hot Chick for Nashville inspired hot chicken. Chicken Strippers for the picky eaters. And the ‘Hot As Cluck’ buffalo wings with spice scales named after Metallica songs: Fuel (mild), Fight Fire with Fire (medium), Creeping Death (hot), and The Unforgiven (Extremely hot). All are served with one’s choice of carrots and celery or crinkle cut fries on the side.

“Crinkle cut fries are the best kind of fries,” Eddie states. “Ain’t that right, chef?”

“Ay ay!”

One chef. For the entire back of the house. Though that seems like the textbook definition of a staff shortage, the friendly Latino man with long, black hair that he concealed with a hairnet and baseball cap most likely had it covered. He flashes you a kind grin with kind, hooded eyes to match, quite possibly revealing to you that he’s likely stoned out of his mind. But if it helps him through the shift…

“Argyle’s the man,” Eddie explains. “Pitched the chicken wing idea to me when we were both blasted.”

Suspicions confirmed.

“Is it just Argyle?” you inquire waving hello to him.

“Sometimes Eds helps out back here too,” Argyle answers for him. “Like when we’re really fucking shlammed, he’ll come back here and help cook.”

Argyle turns to you. You smile at him.

“But most of the time I got it,” he says. “That man’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, Argyle’s a beast,” Eddie confirms. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

While Eddie tidies up back of the house, you and Argyle converse with one another. He’s 28, produces music on the side, and learned how to cook from his mom at the age of three. California native as well. By observing the mini station he has set up, you notice that Argyle keeps a stash of Yerba Mate with him at all times, and some bud in his mini gym bag. You also learn that he and Eddie often take breaks together, hot boxing one another’s vans as if it were some sort of competition. But, as Argyle had mentioned, with how much Eddie currently has on his plate, those joint breaks (no pun intended) have been pushed to the backburner.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hargrove,” Argyle concludes. “Excited to have you on our team.”

“Likewise!” you shake his hand with a smile. “Looking forward to bugging you for chicken wings.”

“You bug me all you want, mamas,” he insists. “I’ll make you allll the chicken wings in the world.”

“You a flats girl or a drumstick girl?” Eddie questions.

“Flats,” you respond instantly.

You receive a distraught gasp from the cook while Eddie cackles.

“Atta girl,” Eddie smirks patting your back. “I knew I liked you.”

“BLAS.PHE.MY!” Argyle screams. “Drumsticks are where it’s at bro.”

The three of you argue back and forth about chicken for the next couple of minutes, Eddie sticking beside you through and through. Though play-fighting with your new coworkers seems meniscal in the grand scheme of things, you reveled in it. It’s the first time in a while you felt a sense of community outside your sister. You wanted to savor it, especially since you know that this is temporary.

“You’re a red flag, Hargrove,” Argyle jokes, clutching his chest. “You were perfect in my eyes until you said you were a flats girl.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s mine and not yours,” Eddie jeers.

Your heart flutters. Eddie and chicken wings. You’ve GOT to be in heaven.

“Alright, word,” Argyle calls after Eddie as he pulls you away from the kitchen. “Word. I’m still gonna spoil her with food like she’s mine though.”

“He’s such a flirt,” Eddie says to you once you’re both out of earshot. “Endearing and endangering at the same time.”

“All in good nature right?”

“‘Course!” he exclaims. “We’re all about respecting women at Hellfire. Everything’s lighthearted banter.”

And you’ll revel in that too. Especially since ‘respect’ and ‘lighthearted banter’ weren’t things you were able to experience at home.

“Also!” Eddie adds. “Respectfully… Wear something simple but classy on Friday.”

“Ooh,” you chime. “Simple and classy?”

“Yeah, I’m talking neutral tones. Red lipstick also preferred but you can do whatever you want. I’ve got something I need you to do for me on your very first day.”

I’ll do anything for you, Eddie. Your intrusive thoughts are starting to take over.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

It’s Friday night now and everyone is in their respective stations preparing for the rush. Argyle is prepping the fryer while Chrissy flirts with him for nachos. She waves at you with her fingers and gestures that you can have some too. You smile and mouth a, “thank you” to her.

You really like Chrissy. Of all the dancers you’ve seen so far, she is the most memorable. She is charming and sweet, soft but firm with her boundaries. She has regulars lining up for her daily, all with different types of quirks and interests. But Chrissy somehow fits all of their molds, just by how fast she can switch from doe to siren depending on her audience. You want to be just like her.

You and Eddie stop by the kitchen before heading off to finish orientation. There are chicken wings — flats only, of course — on the line waiting for you with a note scribbled on the back of an old ticket order.

“Shy Girl<3”

“Eat up, mamas,” Argyle encourages you. “Gonna need the energy for tonight.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy cheers. “It’s Fridaaay!”

You thank them before heading out with Eddie once again. Eddie steals a flat from you and flashes a thumbs up to the cook before you two leave.

“Mm,” he approves. “Fight Fire with Fire Buffalo.”

You are just about done with wrapping up orientation training and ready to start the first night on your own. That is until Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother and bus boy, comes along and interrupts Eddie’s train of thought. You walk with Eddie in silence, munching on your food while Mike relentlessly hounds him about bringing his girlfriend into the club. She is 18 but Eddie is refusing.

“But but-” Mike stammers. “The club is already eighteen plu-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupts. “This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.”

“Well I’m 19 and you let me work here. Why does it matter if she’s 18?”

“Because you’re a dude, Wheeler,” Eddie hisses in return. “It’s different for the ladies.”

Not willing to risk any liabilities, he leaves Mike with just that. You follow Eddie, fiddling nervously with your hands as you watch him tsk and shake his head in disapproval.

“I can’t have teenage girls in here,” Eddie mutters. “That’s just blatantly obvious right? Or have I lost it?”

“No, right. Totally!” you agree.

Eddie has another rule. No strippers under the age of 20. Anyone under, including ages of 18 and 19 are children to him. He admits that he gets squeamish when guys bring their younger looking girlfriends into the club. You assume it pertained to his colleague’s girlfriends too.

You walk past the bar with Eddie, waving hi to Jonathan as you did so. Dustin is at the bar as well but is too busy to say hello. You manage to glance over and watch him fix his hair, trying to look his absolute best while FaceTiming his Mormon e-girl from Utah, Suzie. After eavesdropping for the past couple of days, you pick up that she insists on video chatting with Dustin every time he is at Hellfire to ensure his fidelity. Suzie wanted to be his “only wifey” to which ‘Dusty Bun’ assures her that she is.

“Uh oh,” comes a voice ever so soft it sounds eerie when it echoes through the club. “Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

Slithering into your periphery is the same tall, lean guy that you ran into earlier last week. Today he's sporting a white tank top that revealed a couple small tattoos scattered around his body, black pants that were tight enough to be yours, a loose wallet chain belt, and chunky work docs. His gorgeous blonde hair looks attainably messy by what you suspect is mousse. He smells of beer and cigarettes tonight, his tired eyes a precursor to his lust-filled gaze. A poster boy for all the men you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents is none other than,

“Henry Creel,” Eddie says. “Mike’s just picking a bone with me. Have you met Hargrove? She’s our newest dancer.”

It’s seemingly Henry’s first day back. From the first day of orientation to now, you’ve only had run-ins with Jim, the older gentleman who is also a bouncer. Jim spent years with the Hawkins PD, but after a scandal that only Eddie and his peers seem to know about, Jim found a home protecting young women at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. The only place that gave him a chance.

You like Jim. You like everyone here. You are also ecstatic to see Henry again, this time as a dancer. You can see the excitement blooming in his eyes, with a steady increase in his pupil size by the second.

“Well, well,” Henry smirks. “Look who decided to join us.”

You two shake hands again.

“Henry’s my other bouncer,” Eddie explains, but you already knew that. “He’s my right hand man. He’s tiny but mighty. Could snap bones in an instant.”

You peer over at Henry with shocked eyes, to which Henry acknowledges with a dramatic bow.

“You’ll see it,” Eddie hovers a hand over your back. “I sure hope not anytime soon, but there’s always that one douchebag.”

“And they always underestimate me too,” Henry says. “I get a nice kick out of it. It’s a win-win.”

Henry is certainly not beefy, but judging by his muscle tone and sharp upright demeanor, he can put up a fight. Dude seems like he does a lot of the dirty work for Eddie. He can get away with it too.

After bidding ‘see you later’ to Henry, you continue walking with Eddie.

“So,” he starts. “Did you put together a cute simple outfit for tonight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Good,” Eddie says. “I can tell it’s gonna look amazing. I dig the red lipstick and the choker.”

Eddie wanted classy so you gave him classy. Underneath the cloak, you are sporting a lacy black set with a matching black choker and classic red lipstick. Your hair is straightened tonight since beach waves are your signature.

“You want a sneak peak?” you smirk.

Eddie quirks up. “Oh man, do I? Let me at it.”

You take off your cloak to reveal what you have underneath.

Eddie stops in his tracks, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze is both soft, yet lout. Delicate in the brows, yet carnivorous in the eyes. Slowly, his jaw lowers, uttering a silent gasp as he fully processes the sight of the vixen — you — in front of him.

“Jeez…” he strains. “You look…”

You blush. Electricity whirls through you as Eddie continues to relish in your beauty.

“Showstopping,” Eddie finishes.

He reaches his arms out and you take them, letting yourself fall into his chest as he pulls you to him. During the embrace, he sets his lips beside your cheek, brushing against them delicately as he gives you a verbal kiss.

“Mwah!” he exclaims, leaving you longing for a stronger peck. You feel like you’re on a cloud when he spins you to get a full 360 of your look. “I was expecting like a light color, or pastel…but black — black is your color.”

“Yeah?” you reply. “It’s not too edgy? Choker and all?”

“A lil rough around the edges won’t hurt,” the club owner approves. “He’s gonna love it.”

You follow closely behind. “He?”

Your first client. You had a feeling that’s what Eddie had planned for you today, but reality didn’t sit in until right now.

"Ever given a lap dance before?" Eddie inquires.

"Yeah, but not in this setting."

He seems amused with your answer. Eddie smirks as he gives you a nudge. "Perfect."

You two are walking down the corridor now, down to an isolated room at the end masked by a beaded curtain. You’re unsure if the goosebumps that form on your skin is because of the slight chilliness of the club or because you were walking into a seductive hideout with the boss you had the hots for.

You two stop just a yard short of the curtain. Eddie turns to face you.

"I've got a buddy named Steve. Not short for anything, his parents just... loved the 80s." he chuckles. “You’re giving him a private show tonight. One hour.”

Eddie’s buddy. The pressure is on. The name rings a bell, you believe Dustin was talking about him the first day you set foot in Hellfire.

“Oh,” you say. “I think I heard your friend Dustin talking about him last week.”

As if it were some inside joke, Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie mutters. “Don’t even get me started on those two.”

Eddie motions you forward, extending his arm to signal an “after you” gesture as you proceed into the private show room. The beads of the curtain carelessly clash into one another as Eddie saunters in.

"Anyway, Steve has been going through it lately. His lady left him for another dude, he lost his job because the city wanted another basic coffee shop instead of a place to rent cheesy B movies…and the last time he worked in the food industry he had to wear a sailor’s uniform, so he’s since opted out.”

You wander around what was going to be your office for the next hour as Eddie aimlessly takes his own path and furthers his lay-down.

“His folks want nothing to do with him because he doesn't wanna be nepotized by them. When he’s not working, he’s babysitting — you guessed it — Dustin and the rest of the boys when they’re not here or playing D&D with me. Oh yeah, and on the topic of girlfriend, he hasn't gotten laid in a fat minute.”

Eddie pauses.

"It's kinda depressing,” he says. “Now that I say it all out loud.”

He makes a sharp turn and walks toward the boombox he kept in the corner of the room.

"That is depressing," you mumble nonchalantly, as if you yourself had not been laid in a fat minute… contrary to your obnoxious brother’s popular belief.

“How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a fucking slut?” Billy’s voice haunts you.

You’ve only had one real boyfriend and Billy knew that. And that boyfriend, shortly after he left you for the girl he told you not to worry about, admitted that you were simply a placeholder for him. They’re happily married now and it tortures you knowing that being the first choice was never in the cards. Billy knew that too and used that backstory to fuel your insecurities. Billy knew you hated feeling used, yet brought it up every chance he got. Making his victims feel small, that was the source of his power. You shudder it off.

You watch as Eddie plays around with the boombox, ensuring that the aux chord was working along with all its other components.

"Tell you what," Eddie begins to barter. "You give him a good show, you can keep a hundred percent of your tips tonight. Consider it a sign on bonus."

“Wow, Eddie really?” you exclaim. “That…helps me out a lot. Thanks so much.

“Of course, doll,” Eddie grins. “Happy to help.”

Eddie finishes up tidying the room before walking back over to you.

“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he adds one last time. “You’re gonna knock his socks off.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you thank him one last time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He lingers for a while longer before going outside to look for Steve. Meanwhile, heart’s-a-fluttering you try to acquaint yourself with the place, choosing a seductive song of your liking before getting prepped.

Wicked Games by The Weeknd.

More ruckus sounds from outside of the show room. You assume your client has arrived.

“That’s the boy,” Eddie confirms. “BRB-right back.”

You excuse your boss as he makes his way over to his friend. While you wait, your mind begins to race. Does your outfit look okay? Does your breath smell? Do you smell? Despite all the wardrobe and wellness checks you’ve done, your mind is insistent that something else was off. To calm your nerves, you decide to take a quick gulp of Bombay Sapphire, a gin Eddie had provided for the room, before Steve walks in.

Liquid courage. May help with the performance too.

“There he is,” Eddie cheers as the two men greet each other outside. “What took you so long?”

“There was uh, traffic,” a softer voice responds.

“I call bull.”

The two talk a bit more, voices too quiet for you to make out what they’re saying. That, or the sound of your heart pounding against your chest drowned out their conversation. Steve sounds friendly. Timid, but friendly nonetheless.

You listen in on Eddie’s spiel about you. He called you stunning, explained that you just moved from California, and that you are exactly Steve’s type. Whatever that could possibly mean. You then hear Eddie go over the rules. No touching you without consent. No verbal or physical harassment. No sexual intercourse. And to tip generously.

“She sounds lovely. Thanks for the run down, Eds.”

“‘Course. She’s all yours, Big Boy.”

The beaded curtains clash once more.

In walks a man around Eddie’s age, late 20s, early 30s with sleek mahogany hair and slight puffy eyes. He’s sporting a gray North Face sleeveless jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and denim blue Levi’s. He’s a lot more preppy than you thought he would be. Steve’s reaction to you was similar to that of Eddie, despite how different they seem from each other.

“Hi,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you smile. “You’re Steve?”

He nods shyly. “You’re who they call Shy Girl?”

“That’s meee.”

It doesn’t take a body language analyst to see that Steve is guarded. It takes another fragile, sullen demeanor to know one.

“Are you one of Eddie’s shy friends?”

The comment earns a laugh from Steve. “You think I’m shy?”

“Just a little.”

He attempts to mask a gulp. “I’ve just never gotten a lap dance before.”

“You think I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stalk towards him and rest a hand on his chest when proximity and Steve himself grants you permission. You sink your palm in deeper when you pick up he’s receptive to it.

Oh yeah, that’s all gin.

“With your handsome self?”

Steve’s blushing now. “Yeah…strip clubs are kinda not my thing. They’re starting to be though, cuz I always come and support Eddie.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” you joke.

“Eddie and I do have a budding bromance,” he admits with a laugh.

“Boy I’d love to be in the middle of that,” you tease him honestly.

Steve is left stunned and speechless while you grab his hand and lead him to the futon in the middle of the room. He attempts to relax, exhaling the tension out of his shoulders and manspreading as he watches you encompass him. You walked in a slow circle around Steve as the music starts and he peers up at you with curious eyes. Alas, you stop in front of him, cupping his face softly in your hands and synchronizing your hip movements to the rhythm of the song.

Relate to your customers. Talk to them. Build a connection with them, you think to yourself.

“So how’s your day been?”

Steve cracks a faint smile. "Good, how's yours?"

"Good," you chime as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap.

Steve sharply inhales, sucking the tension he had just released right back into his body. You shake your head in disapproval and stroke his face calmly.

“No, no,” you coo. “Just sit back, relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m safe with you, huh?” he responds in an is-that-so kind of fashion. “You seem like pure danger to me.”

“Oh, please,” you snarkily disregard his comment. “I’m an angel.”

“In a place called Hellfire?” he challenges you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve wants to touch you. So bad. But he refrains. You feel it in his levitating palms, resting just inches away from the small of your back. You start to lightly ride his thigh, hoping to catch his palm in passing as you move your hips about. Instead you’re met with something hard at the base of his pants, an outline and protrusion that wasn’t there before.

Steve looks down and acknowledges it with a shrug.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "It has a mind of its own."

You laugh faintly in return. "It's okay. I'd say it's responding appropriately."

"Yeah?"

"Given the circumstances," you say as you grind slower, deeper. "Yeah."

"Well, that's a relief."

Steve is cute. And a polite man who values your consent was sure to receive it. You two lock gazes before one of you dared to speak again. It all feels like a blind date, and you’re two giddy young adults.

"You..." you start. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

"Really?" Steve asks. "Usually dancers don't let you do that."

"It depends who you ask," you smile. "Consent is subjective...and you have mine. C'mon."

He obliges and starts to graze your ass softly with his hands. You run his hands through his hair, then along his neck without lifting them. A muffled moan is slowly released from his mouth.

"Shit," he sputters. "Feels really good."

He tosses his head back.

"You make me feel so good."

"Aww," you grin. "Me?"

"Yeah you," his voice is deeper now. Huskier. "All because of you."

His hand moves upwards towards your bra and he begins to fiddle with the straps, and then the clasps. You continue your steady grinding, rolling your hips to the beat of the music, tossing your head back for the full effect while Steve holds back the urge to cup your perfect breasts in his kneady hands.

A whimper escapes Steve’s mouth when you find the sweet place to roll, resting a palm over his abdomen for leverage.

“Needy, are we?” you tease him. “Needy for me, Stevie?”

“So fucking needy,” he breathes, a nervous gulp swallowing another sneaky groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

I’ve got my heart right here, I’ve got my scars right here.

Suddenly, you cease the grinding, going from cowgirl to reverse. Grabbing a hold of both his knees with the back of both your hands, you sink down to the floor, knees bent, slightly out turned. Your hands move from his knees to encompass his elbows, accommodating the playful headlock he abruptly decided to have you in, watching you squat down beneath him.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

His arms creep from the sides of your face to the front of your face. You crane your head upwards, peering up at him and refrain from shivering when he brings an arm across your neck. His other hand rests on your face, stroking it tenderly.

“Get up here and, ride my thighs again, please.” he pleads. “It was feeling so good.”

“Okay,” you oblige before standing back up.

“Before you do though, let me get a good look at your ass.”

You stand there for him, bending down ever so slightly so he could run his hands across your back. He grabs a fist full of your hair gently with one hand and strokes your ass cheek with the other.

"Wow," Steve hums as he runs his fingers along the birth mark on your lower back. "I like this birthmark."

"Yeah?" you say. "Some people have said it looks like a tramp stamp."

"It's cute," Steve insists, pulling you onto his lap. “It kinda looks like a bat."

He points to where the wings would be and the fangs and you laugh. No one's admired your tramp stamp-esque birthmark the way Steve did.

"Thanks," you reply. "My brother has a matching one."

You pause.

"Sorry, that didn't sound all that sexy."

Steve tosses his head back and chuckles, hand resting firmly on your ass again. "You look sexy talking regardless, so I don’t mind.”

The chemistry between you and Steve feels so natural. You know if your nurturing heart felt like this with all clients you would be in big trouble. This profession isn’t for everyone and you realize that. But you decide to realize everything else later. Meanwhile, your focus right now is pleasing Steve.

You resume the thigh riding per his request, and chase your own subtle high as you did so. Steve whimpers and whines, seeming to long for you even more with every stroke of his hair, every brush against his cheek, every steady and calculated grind against his—

"Woah, are you okay?"

Suddenly you’re cut off by Steve abruptly pushing you off his lap. When you peer over at him, his face has gone completely red.

Did you do something wrong? Did you violate a boundary? Millions of thoughts race through your head. You can’t get fired on the first day of your new job…

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Steve stammers, flushing a deeper red hue with every word. “I... uh, kinda came in my pants."

"Oh..." you begin.

"I am so sorry," Steve sighs. "Embarrassed is an understatement. I’m such a loser.”

You two start frantically talking over each other, one extremely apologetic, another sympathetic to the concerns. Again, it’s like you two are clumsy young adults on a blind date set up by your bold friends.

"It's been a while... so..." Steve stammers.

"Steve," you stop him.

"And..." he cuts out.

"It's okay," you reassure him. “It’s okay, Steve. If you need a break, we can stop.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees with a resigned sigh, the red colored flush migrating to his ears. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You go to put your cloak back on again and strut towards the gin. Perhaps offering the man a drink would help loosen up his nerves.

"What should we do with the allotted time left?" Steve wonders eyes following you. He’s rubbing his knees anxiously with his palms. “Eddie has this room booked for an hour. He needs to think you're doing splits on my dick or something or else he won't be satisfied."

Laughter erupts from the deepest parts of your belly at Steve's comment. Steve can't help but laugh as well.

"Hm, we can wait a bit and I can give you another lap dance?” you suggest. “Or a strip tease?"

You weren't used to those words coming out of your mouth, so you attempted to make it sound as normal as possible. Wow, you really just gave a lap dance. And someone came from it.

"Do you think..." Steve inquires. "That we can just... talk?"

----

So you and Steve do exactly that. You talk about your families, and your aspirations, your deepest fears, and your core values. Steve Harrington isn’t the loser he thinks he is. He’s a really cool guy. But deeply misunderstood.

“So you and your brother have similar birthmarks?” Steve questions.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Except his is on his belly. We literally took the term identical twins to a whole new level.”

He laughs.

“Your brother sounds cool.”

“He was.”

Steve gasps in astonishment.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. Is he…”

“He’s not dead. Just an asshole.”

The color returns to his face. He exhales steadily and shakes his head. You find his reaction funny, despite how twisted that made you sound.

“Dead to you though?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle. “Dead to me.”

You two do a cheers to that with your alcohol-filled glasses and take another painful sip. It burns.

“Tell me about yourself now,” you prompt him.

There’s a dramatic pause.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I’m an only child. So eyes have been on me for as long as I can remember. What’s Stevie up to? This is what we expect of him and this is what happens if he’s not what we make him out to be. It didn’t take til young adulthood to realize that I have been living in my parents’ shadow. I don’t even know what I like.”

Steve spurs on about how he has struggled with his identity, going back and forth between if what he was pursuing was a desire of his or his parents’.

“And for a while I thought I knew who Steve was. Until I lost myself again in a girl named Nancy.”

“Aw,” you pout.

“A girl,” Steve pauses waiting for you to catch on. “Named Nancy.”

Your eyes widen. “House Mom Nancy?!”

Steve nods as you slowly piece things together.

“So Jonathan’s girlfriend is your…”

“Ex girlfriend,” Steve confirms. “Small world, huh?”

You suppose it wasn’t good that Hawkins is so small. You’d hate for someone to recognize you when you’re taking a casual stroll outside.

Nonetheless, you push that concern to the side and continue your conversation with Steve.

“What happened?”

“Some petty high school shit,” he explains. “But it’s always been her. She made me a better me. The closest to Steve that I’ve ever felt.”

“Wow,” you say. “So you saw a future with her?”

“Marriage, kids, everything,” Steve confirms. “Then she decided I wasn’t what — who — she wanted.”

It’s silent for a while. Steve shakes his head bitterly and downs the rest of his drink. You slosh yours around waiting for him to speak again. Besides, if you did, you’d end up ugly crying about your ex. And no one wants their stripper trauma dumping on them when they’re supposed to be performing.

Thankfully, Steve is the first to speak again.

“Yeah, Nance. She looks… she looks happy,” he turns to you with dismal eyes. “I don’t ever wanna get in the way of that.”

“Do you ever see her here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s in the back being House Mom, making sure all the girls are taken care of and all that. And I’m sure she doesn’t come up front because she knows Eddie has been trying to play wingman.”

You chuckle. “With a stripper?”

“With anyone,” Steve chuckles. “God that sounds awful. I sound like a loser.”

“Would you stop saying that?” you snap. “You are not a loser, Steve.”

“I know I’m not a loser. Just feel like it sometimes. Especially when it dawns on you that you’ve been living life for other people.”

“I kinda know how you feel.”

You two lock eyes again. Steve rests a hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers briefly before he begins playing with each of your fingers one by one.

"I guess…going back to the previous topic…” he proceeds. “If I could change anything about myself, I would've done more of what Steve wants to do. Not what Todd and Marsha want Steve to do. Or what Tommy H. and Carol want Steve to do. Because maybe then Nancy and I would’ve been endgame. Or maybe Allison. Possibly Tammy? Who knows? See? Everyone’s world but Steve’s.”

"Steve," you start. "I hope you realize that I have no idea who any of these people are. It’s kinda hard to keep up.”

"And that is such a relief to hear that," he sighs again, this time in exasperation. "I just feel so free talking about them to someone who doesn't know who they are. Hawkins is small, you know. And it’s good that the only bias you can form is in my favor since you only know of me."

You offer him a consoling pat atop the hand, to which he responds by leaning his head on your shoulder. With how tender everything has been with Steve, there’s a temptation to plant a delicate kiss on his forehead. But you stop yourself.

"I'd like to know you, know you, though,” you find yourself saying.

He gazes up at you. You two smile at each other.

“I’d like to know you more too, Shy Girl,” he answers. “If you’d let me.”

“Duh, it’s what I just said.”

He chuckles. “You’re not saying that for the tips?”

“No. Just human to human.”

You stroke his cheek longingly, running your hand along his stubble.

"It's also been a while since I've gotten laid too," you admit. "And I've got a lot of pent up stress I need to release. You seem like a trustworthy person to do that with.”

The energy changes. Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

"Oh yeah?" He rubs your thumb with his and soon you find yourselves holding hands.

"Yeah.”

“Sounds like we have a deal then, Shy Girl.”

Before Steve gets any ideas, you interrupt him.

“I don't wanna have sex at work," you admit. "Especially not on the clock."

"Oh, yeah I didn’t think it’d be now. Some people do find that hot though.”

"It's my first day. I can’t disappoint Eddie this early in the game.”

"You're kidding."

You shake your head.

"Wow, I would've thought you've been doing this a while."

You blush. "Thank you. But nope, you’re my Guinea pig.”

Steve continues to gawk in amazement. Then he reaches for his wallet, grabbing a huge wad of Benjamin Franklins and handing it to you.

"Tell you what," Steve bargains. "You buy yourself something nice, get your bills paid, and come through in a couple days. The roomie won't be home so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can get takeout or something too. Whatever makes you comfortable, of course.”

You bite your lip. "I'd like that."

“Good. I’d like that too.”

———-

"So, how was it?" you hear Eddie ask Steve.

"Dude...I just about creamed my pants," he says as you hold back laughter. "You got yourself a good one."

"Nothing's ever too TMI for you, Harrington," Eddie says. "But thanks for the imagery."

"Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home. It's been piling so much I think it's going to tip over."

“Roger,” Eddie says before bidding him goodbye. “Oh, speaking of which, did you tip her good?”

“You bet I did. Woman like her needs to be spoiled rotten.”

————

You make your way back to the dressing room after saying bye to Steve and finishing the flats Argyle had specially made for you. At your locker, you subtly attempt to count the hundreds Steve gave you for his lap dance and talk session. The man left you 10 of them. A whole band.

You were stunned. What did King Steve do for a living anyways? It didn’t matter to you. You had enough for groceries, gas, and a portion of your rent, all earned in an hour’s work, and all yours to keep as Eddie insisted.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat. You and your sister were good for the next few weeks.

Knock, knock.

“Don’t freak out ladies, it’s just me!” Eddie shouts from the other side of the door. “Put your cloaks on I’m coming in!”

You watch as the girls scurry to get their covers back on. The amount of respect Eddie has for his dancers is insane. Perhaps it’s common decency but it was such a striking difference than what you were used to. It warmed your heart in a way, but also made you sad. You deserved this respect all your life.

When Eddie finds you, he starts towards you, a look of approval spread wide across his face. As deeply as you wanted it to be because he found you attractive, you infer that it’s because you’re bringing in good business — and that you’re good, given a small amount of experience with the pole.

You two are face to face now. Eddie speaks up first.

“Steve, uh,” he says. “Steve really likes you.”

“Oh really?” you smile. “I’m glad.”

“You’re just a natural, Shy Girl,” he compliments you. “Everyone’s just raving about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far and what Stevie told me, yeah,” he confirms. “But I guess it’s no surprise. Shy girls are almost always the freakiest, huh?”

You try not to laugh while you’re witnessing the imagination of your boss running in the complete opposite direction of what really happened between you and Steve. Nevertheless, you let him. You didn’t mind taking up space in your dashing boss’s mind.

“You should come to work a little early next time you’re on,” Eddie says. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks. “Really?”

“‘Course! I do it with all my dancers as a welcome thing. I’d like to know more about you. You’re more than just a pretty face and someone who simply works for me.”

‘I do it with all my dancers.’

Your heart sinks. Back to square one.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m gonna head out now. Gonna go see the lady friend. I’ve got Johnny boy, Argyle, and Henry holding down the fort.”

The tinge in your heart intensifies.

“Oh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah, I rarely see her cuz she bartends. Even though we work similar hours we work opposite days. But she got first cut tonight so I’m heading over.”

“Have fun, Eddie.”

“I sure will,” Eddie says. “Goodnight, Shy Girl.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie soon disappears out of sight and now your shift seems ten times longer. Regardless, you stuff your tips into your tote bag and prepare to meander around the club, enticing other bachelors for a dance.

Without Eddie around, it seems less exciting.

“Doing it for Max,” you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn’t your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove

iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

#the babyboyification of steve harrington #daddy eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #Steve #steve harrington #Steve harrington smut #Steve and reader #Eddie and trader

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horrorisunknowntoyou · 1 year

Text

Watching From The Sidelines P.4

[SAGAU X SHAPESHIFTER READER]

Synopsis: The game continues, but feelings of pain start arising. You are vulnerable. But this might be a wake up call for you.

A/n: Thank you so much for the support! Y'all filling my notifications with tag list request lmao. I can't write all of you, I have 4 index cards full of usernames. But I'll try my best!

TW// vomiting blood, being very sick.

Also heavy leaning to Zhongli x Reader

Song recommendations:

Gold - Imagine Dragons

Golden hour - JVKE

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

It's been a few months since the game has started.

Life was going on as normally, well as normal as a business man working with literally gods chasing you.

Of course even with unlimited stamina, and unmatched skill, it's starting to take a toll on your body. You couldn't explain it, but something was hurting deep inside you.

Maybe it was the fact you haven't been 'you'.

You been stuck as m/n for months! And your kinda starting to forget who you are. Sure it's been a lot of fun to play pretend. Being smug and rich and whatever...but you kinda miss old you.

The person who played genshin for fun! Sure, your no longer financially struggling or suffering but at this point, looking in the mirror is starting to be painful.

You don't know how long you can play this game anymore.

Of course you knew the acolytes and followers are more then devoted to you, willing to do whatever to do whatever you want. To prove themselves to you and win your favor, and this point they added so much people it's starting to get annoying.

Yeah, it's fun but you don't know how much your heart can take it.

Currently your hiding inside a shed, listening carefully to your surroundings outside.

You felt this unbearable sinking feeling in your chest. At this point your tempted to call the game quits because something is very wrong.

You really don't want to though.

Hours passed, sinking in and out of consciousness, you see a person shouting at you trying to warn you something before gasping awake.

You unintentionally fell asleep in the shed, bewildered and stressed out you decided leaving the shed for air was your best bet.

As you clutched onto you stomach you felt very uncomfortable.

You took a deep breathe of air, trying to stable yourself but you can't. You don't know why? Was it you doubting yourself? Who's the person you dreamed of?

Imagines of someone speaking to you popped into your head again, disorienting you.

"Zhongli!" You yelled out, leaning on a wall coughing into your hand, noticing it shine in reflection of the sun.

It was blood.

Your blood.

He immediately appeared, startling you, he looked at you concerned.

You immediately shaped shifted to your original form.

" I-i hate to end the game, but I...I don't feel well I don't think I can continue on." You mumbles to him.

His eyes widen at this, as other acolytes appeared behind him. You started coughing again, and next thing you knew. You vomit out blood, and collapsed on the ground.

You heard screaming, crying, and feeling of hands holding you gently in their grasp.

You also saw that person again briefly, they were stroking your hair mumbling sweet nothings to you.

It felt warm.

Then everything went to black.

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

You felt comfortable.

Very comfortable.

You blinked slowly, waking up realizing youwere practically drowning in pillows and blankets. Staring at the ceiling above you, before eventually sitting up. You were on this huge bed, gently patting your chest. Noticing the change of clothes.

It was a simple white nightgown, most likely due to your other clothes covered in your blood.

Before you can even think, the door swung open, The archons looking at you.

"YOUR GRACE YOU'RE AWAKE!" Venti yellowed out, practically tears brimming his eyes. " I was so worried! "

"Your highness please, never scare us like that again." Zhongli says, closing the door behind him so others don't barge in.

Ei stood their silently, looking at you with sadden look.

You sigh," Zhongli... explained what happened after I blacked out?"

He nods, " Of course your grace, after...after you passed out, we thought we lost you after so long. We had to shield you and bring you back to the temple quick as possible. We got the best doctors to check up on you. "

You looked at your hands, clenching them into fists before letting go.

"My body was probably stressing out after using so much of my shapeshifting ability. And it magnifying with my identity crisis. It made me too vulnerable.

But who is that person I keep seeing? I didn't even dream of them..."

You sigh, " I apologize for worrying you all, it appears I must pause the game in the meantime. As I need to rest and heal. I had no idea this would have happened. I'll take note of it in the future. "

You tried to get up, but all three Archons immediately set you back down.

" I apologize your highness but we can not let you leave this room. " Zhongli says firmly, tucking you back in. "If you want anything, we will get it for you."

After everything, you just agree with it. "Ei take care of my business, Venti alert the others I'm awake. Zhongli you stay with me. " You quietly ordered them.

They all nod.

You were exhausted even if you just awoke. Som much things already on your mind.

"Zhongli can I ask you an odd request." You mumbles.

"Nothing is odd if it's coming from you your highness. What is your request?" He asked, sitting on a chair besides the bed to keep watch.

You gently lend a hand out, " can I hold your hand?"

He perked up at the request, " H-hold your hand? It would be an honor. " He gently grabs your hand. It felt reassuring to have, as you slowly blink. Falling asleep with your hand interlock with Zhongli's.

You didn't dream of that person again.

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

You been recovering well, however you practically can not do anything. Like at all.

Also no info could be found of the person you are looking for. Which is huge bummer but you'll look more into it yourself once at full health.

Besides that, due to the accident the Archons are scared you're going to vomit out blood again. They are hovering over you 24/7, like you can't be alone at all. Someone has to be with you at all times.

You couldn't even feed yourself, someone has to feed you by hand while you sat in bed.

It was humiliating.

But you couldn't do much until your strength was fully back.

But there was something you didn't expect....

That was meeting the harbingers.

You were literally in a nightgown, in bed, resting and Dottore was doing a check up on you....

HOW WERE YOU SUPPOSED TO ACT????

You knew of pantalone due to business connects and such as m/n. But the others? How the hell were you supposed to deal with them???

You just sat there, unsure as they asked how your doing and such. It was obvious they wanted to be in your favor.

All you can do is let them, as time passed and you watch the harbingers speak to each other. You paid them no attention as you slowly drifted to sleep engulfed in a warm embrace of it.

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

At this point, you were so sick of resting.

Besides Ei bringing you papers to read or give your signature to for your business. You practically had nothing to do!

Your been nagged to death by so many people, The Archons, Harbingers, followers etc. The list goes on and your going insane. The amount of times late at night your suffocating yourself with a pillow or punching it before being sedated by Zhongli.

You wanted to rip your hair out!

However the more you slept, the more you talked to 'that' person.

You still don't know who it is, but it's clear they were warning you of your illness.

Which confused you still, but that's a plus up. However that still doesn't change your issues.

1. Who is dream person?

2.Health is not fully healed.

3.Stuck in the temple much to your displeasure.

4. Having to pause the game.

Things are not going as you planned....

You are pacing in your room, Zhongli watching you in concerned.

"Is something wrong your highness? You seem troubled. " He asked but all you can do is pace back in forth thinking.

You looked at him.

"Zhongli, what your opinion in continuing the game? We never finished it." You faced him. He thinks about it, " I-im unsure your highness, believe me, as we want to prove our loyalty to you. You must understand we don't know how much you recovered. We fear of loosing you. "

" so if I were to wish to continue, it's assume the others would decline? "

" Most likely yes your highness. "

You sigh, running your hand through your hair, " call a meeting with everyone involved in the game. " You command yanking the doors open and swiftly walking down the hallway.

Zhongli immediately chases after you, " your highness! I understand you're displeased but your in a nightgown! Barefooted on tile! " He tries to usher you , but you only ignored him.

Others soon noticed you, common folk immediately bowed before you and stepped away. Others started to follow behind you trying to put you back to bed.

You headed to the throne room, and sat at your throne. Not caring if your dressed improperly, you wanted things done.

Aether and Paimon was visiting a noticed you walking in and the archons following behind you as well body guards. He was confused what was going on as more appeared. Soon him and Paimon was ushered in.

You held a meeting.

"As many of you know, I gotten I'll however. I feel I rested enough. I wish to continue the game. " You command, resting your head on your hand watching the others.

Chatter erupted the room.

Some disagreed to this, prioritizing your health above anything else. Other's were arguing for it, as you created the game and wished for this.

It was hotly debated between the folk.

You sat above and watched down at them, listening to their opinions. You honestly wanted to know what to do. Crossing you legs and pondered.

Zhongli was absolutely against this and he took off his coat and place it on your lap. Keeping you covered.

"Ah, thank you." You quietly say. Unknowingly as others noticed this. Them turing to face you.

"Its my pleasure your highness." Zhongli says with a smile, placing a kiss on your hand.

What was meant to be a serious debated turned into an argument over you. And now others were suggesting to give you a piece of their clothing to you.

You couldn't help but laugh nervously and blush at this stupid situation. How the hell are you supposed to manage this stupid mess? This is nothing like running a business.

God help me.

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

Tag list:

@borbsbirbs @emuxmu @cryastre @lizzhearthz @aphxdea @leafanonsforest @mynameis-star @lunarapple @red1sg0n3 @0hsilver @travelergarnett @valeriele3 @imlost-sendhelp @local-mr-frog @cumbermovels @bidisasterforevermore @sora-but-sadder @moraxsimp69 @iruiji @ll-nty77 @yuyuzi-ling @yunareinhart @enld @code-roevember @no-name-omo @meena-in-a-nutshell @randomnatics @the-2nd-random-kid @smokey-cat @moosieman12345 @nexylaza @stellakito @byakuren100 @jcrml @guess-i-die @creation-magician @longppanoodle @angelkazusstuff @apple-ai @yandere-city

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

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin self aware au #genshin self aware #sagau genshin #genshin sagau #genshin self insert #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact sagau x reader #genshin impact self aware #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin imposter au #sagau cult au #genshin x creator reader #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader

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waevrs · 11 months

Text

ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ

Pairings: ShieldAgent! Natasha x ShieldAgent!Fem! Reader

Summary: Part two of compromised. Y/N recovers quickly from her injuries but she finds out something about Natasha that could put their relationship at risk. What will happen?

Warnings: Mention of abuse, Injury mention.

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3

My eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the sudden light and the plain walls of the med-bay.

Not dead yet.

I groaned and sit up as someone burst into the room.

"Oh, thank god! I-We thought we lost you." Tony panted and embraced me in a hug. He had become like an older brother to me during my time here.

"Not to rain on your parade or anything but," he pulled away abruptly "Fury said you're off of missions indefinitely."

"What?!" I yelled, despite waking up for the first time in who-knows-how-long.

"He said that you're too reckless and you're always getting hurt so having you on the field is a liability." He revealed, scratching the back of his head.

"What the fuck?!" I growled, throwing my head back into the pillows.

"Hey, I'm only the messenger." He raised his hands in surrender. Just then, Bruce walked in with his clipboard and asked Tony to leave. I jolted up in the bed and swung my legs off of the side.

"I see the way you look at Romanoff." He mouthed to me. I flipped him off and he winked before strutting out of the door.

"Are you alright? No pain or discomfort?" Bruce asked. I shook my head no. I wanted nothing more than the comfort of my warm bed.

"Really?" He asked, unusually shocked.

"Yeah, why?" I chuckled, taking a sip of the water that was on the table next to me.

"You were out for 4 weeks."

"WHAT?!" I spat out the water that was in my mouth. Bruce passed me a napkin and I wiped myself down.

"And during that period I noticed something...off about you." He announced. I look at him confused and he continues.

"Your body seems to have double the amount of cells a normal human has...Maybe that explains why you don't feel your injuries." He started to ramble. Before I can say anything he interjected.

"Do you mind if I do some tests?"

"Uh...Sure." I muttered, unsure as to why he still wanted to test me after finding that out.

In about an hour or so, Bruce wrapped up all the tests he wanted to do on me and was taking them down to the lab, leaving me to drown in my loneliness.

"Hey Bruce, where's Nat?" I asked him before he left.

"Uhm..." He stuttered, surprised by the sudden topic of Natasha "She's on a mission."

"Oh, thank you."

He sent me a small smile and walked out of the room. I sighed and decided to ask JARVIS where exactly she was, seeing as she was injured she shouldn't be allowed to go on another mission.

"Hey JARVIS? Can you find Natasha for me?" I spoke into the air.

"Miss Romanoff seems to be on a stakeout mission with her boyfriend." The A.I replied.

"Would you like me to let her know that you're awake?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." I murmured.

Boyfriend? How come I didn't know about her boyfriend? I guessed Tony didn't know either or he wouldn't of said, well mouthed, what he did earlier. There was a stabbing pain in my heart and I hated it. I was actually very much in pain from my injuries so this new pain in my heart made it ten times more unbearable.

"JARVIS, one more thing. Call Tony."

"On it Miss L/N."

"What's up pipsqueak?" I heard Tony's voice echo in the room that I was in. I heard things clanging in the background so I guessed he was in the workshop.

"Did you know about Natasha's boyfriend?" I whispered. It was quite embarrassing that I was asking.

"No, I just found out. Why? Are you jealous?" He pouted teasingly.

"I-No. Did she say anything about me? You know, when I was out?" I asked and tried to hide the smile that threatened to break onto my face.

"Aww is little Y/N is love?" He continued to tease.

"Tony." I deadpanned as a warning.

"Yeah, yeah fine. No actually. She hasn't spoken to anyone but her boyfriend and spent the last 3 and a half weeks locked in her room, a little like you really." He told me, occasionally grunting due to working on something.

"Oh..."

"Personally, I think you should just ask her out." He added and although I can't see his smug face, I can tell he was smirking.

"Riiight. Because you're suddenly the connoisseur of love." I rolled my eyes, sarcasm lacing my voice.

"So you are in love with her!"

"Tony! I am not!"

"You totally are! I can hear the giddiness in your voice!"

"Ugh fine! I am in love with her! Okay?" I gave in and announced. I was a little shocked I came out to him like that. I always pictured it over a fancy dinner or something.

"Wait...you are? I-I was kidding." Tony sounded, utterly confused. He was probably scratching the back of his head, something he did on the rare occasion that he got confused.

"Yes. I like her, a lot." I sighed and retreated to my pillows, stuffing my head in them.

"I don't know what advice to give to you, pipsqueak." He muttered under his breath.

"Don't say anything, I'm coming to you." I decided, pushing myself off of the bed and hobbling towards the door, clutching the stitches on my abdomen. How I got that wound? I have no clue.

"No! Wait! You can't get up-"

"JARVIS, hang up the call."

I sighed and limped my way down to the workshop. Pushing open the door, I said something before he did.

"I know, she's in a relationship and I should of told her before but I don't think she's gay, Tony."

"Ohhh she's gay alright." Tony chuckled.

"No, she told me- How are you so sure?" I asked and took a seat beside him while he was working on a suit.

"Trust me. I have good gaydar." He assured smugly.

"Tony. You have to be gay to have gaydar. You're a straight man in a straight- wait..." I began.

"..."

I looked up at him in shock.

"TONY! WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?!" I half-yelled, jumping up and down like a little kid.

"I wasn't because I'm with Pep." He mumbled shyly, which shocked me because this was very unlike him.

We talked about how we found out we were gay, well bi in his case, and people we thought were definitely closeted. He brought up Natasha and I immediately brushed that off and told him all the times I've flirted and she completely freaked out.

"Definitely closeted." He nodded.

"Tony." I looked at him disappointed. Why does he think that?

"I'm just saying!" He defended "Maybe she freaked out on you because she realised she has those feelings for you and she doesn't know how to deal with them."

I hummed to let him know that I was listening and he continued.

"It happens to the best of us. Maybe she thinks that the team won't accept her."

"So that explains why every time I flirted with her she went and slept with any random man in the same night." I huffed sarcastically and raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, actually. She could be trying to block out the things she feels for you because she's scared what the others will think." He suggested, finishing up what he was working on.

"The big bad Black Widow? Afraid what other people think of her? Bullshit." I scoffed. I couldn't believe what Tony was trying to say.

"She may seem like a heartless bitch, but honestly she's a big softie." He laughed and I couldn't help the smile that broke onto my face.

"Aww you're smiling." Tony teased me for like the fifth time that day.

"Shut up." I pouted and hit his shoulder playfully.

A comfortable silence set between us. Well, silence apart from Tony's AC/DC music playing in the background while he worked. I sat in the chair swinging my legs until he handed me two bracelets, one that lets me bring up JARVIS' database to help me with cases, and another one that allowed me to equip my new suit with the press of the button on the bracelet.

"Woah, thanks Tony. I don't know what to say." I thanked him and gave him a hug.

"Thank me when you and Romanoff are together." He winked at me and went back to working on something. That man was always working.

"I'll see you later Tony." I smiled and hobbled my way out of the workshop and back to where I was supposed to be, the med-bay. I turned the corner and continued on my way.

"Babe. I told you I'm fine. I dealt with them, didn't I."

My head shot up when I heard her voice. She was battered and bruised and obviously hurting but she was being as stubborn as always. My eyes then travelled to the man who stood next to her.

And I froze.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Natasha was with him of all people.

All the memories came flooding back, what he'd do to me if he didn't like what I said.

I never would have thought that I would end up dating him. It began with passion and excitement, just like any other romantic relationship. The relationship, however, developed down a dark and sinister path that I could not have anticipated.

At first, he was kind and considerate, admiring and flattering me. But he quickly began to show his true colours. He became obsessive and domineering, insisting on knowing every detail of my existence. He shut me off from my friends and family, making me feel like he was the only person I had left. He slowly destroyed my confidence by criticising my accomplishments and making me doubt my worth.

The emotional abuse was relentless. He manipulated my emotions, making me feel guilty for his own shortcomings and failures. His words cut like knives, leaving me feeling small and powerless. I became trapped in a cycle of fear, always walking on eggshells, afraid of setting him off.

As the relationship progressed, the abuse escalated to physical violence. His anger would explode without warning, and I would bear the brunt of his rage. The bruises and scars I carried became a painful reminder of the pain he inflicted upon me. I lived in constant fear, never knowing when the next outburst would occur.

Leaving him was one of the most difficult decisions I've ever made. The process of breaking free from his control was filled with obstacles and challenges. Even after we ended the relationship, he continued to harass and stalk me, invading my privacy and making me feel unsafe.

Rebuilding my life after such a traumatic experience has been a long and arduous journey. I've sought therapy and support to heal the emotional wounds and regain my sense of self-worth. It has taken time to learn to trust again, to believe that I deserve love and respect.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Natasha was dating...

My psycho, abusive ex.

#natasha romanoff #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x you #marvel cinematic universe

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badnoahmens · 4 months

Text

I Took Your Keys, It Was Me - Part 4

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: approx. 3.7k

A/N: This fic has been a sloooow burn, so maybe it’s time to change the pace? Thank you to everyone who has kept up with these updates to far, I’ve been uninspired and your kind words have been the only reason I have been writing this 🖤

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The noise of sirens rang in your head, bouncing in your skull. It took minutes before the blur from eyes started to fade away, the sounds of the world coming into the correct frequency.

There was something sharp and uncomfortable poking into your side which made you squirm, still unable to fully open your eyes.

There was a crackle and some movement to your left, murmurs growing louder as each second ticked by. There was a trickle of warmth running down your face, your arm, and now that you think of it, most of your body.

The sharp pain to your left grew stronger, causing you to lurch forward and scream, the sudden pain contorting your insides into an excruciating puzzle.

The buzzing grew louder, and the lights surrounding you shone brighter than a second ago. There were noises of people and machines and cars and just about everything else that made your head spin even more, making the dizziness unbearable.

Without thinking, you twist to the side, upheaving the contents of your stomach onto the floor, leaning through an opening that wasn’t there a second ago.

You could feel arms pulling and twisting at you, and you couldn’t do anything but succumb to their will.

As the tugging of limbs pulled you from a twisted metal cave, the trance of consciousness wavered, and eventually fell silent.

The incessant beeping is what awoke you, the tight restrictions of medical tubes wrapping your arms came next. Your eyes blink slowly, bringing into focus the white clinical walls that surround you. A shadowy figure was by your side, details of their face too distorted from your blurred vision to make out who it was.

As you begin to twist, the figure moves, coming closer to you, making it easier to make out their features. It’s your friend, the one you haven't seen in weeks, the one you thought that you should tell about your dates with Noah, the same friend who came to the Bad Omens show with you way back when - all of two weeks.

Her face looks like fear being masked by a fake sense of confidence, it was easy to tell that she was putting on a brave face as if not to scare you.

She calls your name, and you respond with a slight smile.

“What on earth happened?” she asked, voice laced with worry, a hand finding their way to rub soothingly on the bare skin of your arm.

“I think…. My car… I pulled out in front of someone?” you ask, still unsure yourself, finding it difficult to make sense of the flash of memories from that moment.

She takes a moment, looking over your bandages, the tubes sticking out of you, and the drip that steadily held the pain at bay.

“Well that was kind of a stupid thing to do” she laughed, and gave you a look that you were all too used to.

You chuckle in response, her humour was something that always made you smile. The sarcastic jokes between you two growing up had become the love language of your friendship.

It was in this lull of silence that there was a knock at the door. Both your heads tilted to view who entered in.

You have a fond smile, as much as you could manage in this state, to Noah as he walked in, who looked like his eyes almost fell from their sockets. With a quick few steps, he was by your side, sitting opposite your friend.

If Noah looked shocked to see you, your friend looked like she just saw a ghost. He face didn’t move a muscle, eyes glued to Noah as she watched him take in the image of you in the hospital bed.

It was then when it clicked; you still hadn’t told her about everything.

It had all happened so fast, and you thought you were doing the right thing. Keeping your meetups private was you trying to be respectful of Noah.

Right now though, it would probably be best if your best friend had known what you had been up to.

Noah calls your name, bringing you out of the daze you were in. He looks at you with a worry stricken face.

“It’s okay, I’m okay… I think” you trail off. Your hand pats the top of his, that was hesitantly wavering on the side of the bed. Just as you feel the awkward silence begin, a doctor enters, flashing a glance between the three of you.

“You’re mostly right” he said, referring to your comment. “Lost a bit of blood, got a few cracks in the ribs, and you were severely dehydrated.”

The doctor seemed very relaxed about the state you were in, giving a strange sense of comfort. If he was calm, then you should be too.

“You’re going to need a hand moving around though. Your abdominal muscles will hurt like hell for a while. Is there someone who can assist you with daily tasks?” He asked, flicking through the clipboard of notes that hung by the end of your bed.

“Yes, she’ll be looked after” Noah responds, before even letting you speak.

“Great! You’ll be discharged soon. Take it easy and come back for a check up in a few weeks” the doctor stated, then exited the room.

“Noah…” you look at him, but he simply shakes his head.

“I’m the reason you’re here, I’ll be the reason you’ll recover just fine”. He sits back in the chair, glancing at the machines by your side. His jaw clenched as he looks away again.

“It’s not your fault” you say almost sternly, shifting as you try to sit yourself upright. The pain that tears through your abdomen makes you gasp and fall back, wincing and squeezing your eyes shut. It takes a moment for it to settle, and once it does, you let out a shaky breath.

As your eyes peel open, you look back at your friend. It was as though she was frozen. A statue. Eyes still locked on Noah, mouth slightly ajar.

“Is he the one who hit your car?!” she whispered, looking at you in a not-so-hushed tone. Her expression looked almost angry as she glanced at him again.

“No! No that’s not it!” It almost made you laugh, which hurt your chest.

“After the show the other week” you wince again, pushing in your arms to straighten yourself up. “Noah and I got talking. We've been talking.”

Her eyebrows raise in disbelief and she leans in close to you.

“Are you telling me you went on a DATE. And this has been going on for WEEKS?!” She attempts to whisper again, failing to hide her shock from Noah.

“We caught up yesterday… and today…”

Her reaction was yet again priceless. This time, along with the wide eyes, a smile graces her face, seemingly overcoming her star-struckness as she leans back in her chair.

“Do you know how insane this sounds? Like, this is actually crazy” she was now talking as if Noah wasn’t even in the room. She continued, “so, you’re dating the frontman of our favourite band?”

Your smile was all the answer she needed. She squealed in excitement, bouncing out of her chair to readjust her legs.

“You have to tell me everything about-“

She was cut off by Noah clearing his throat, a smug smile on his lips, even if he was still avoiding eye contact.

You mouth an “I promise” to your friend, who nods understandingly. She then stands, gathering her things into her bag and propping it over her shoulder.

“I’m only a phone call away. I mean it. If you need anything.” She stated matter-of-factly. You nod, squeezing her outstretched hand, before she bids her farewells and exits the room.

“She seems like a great friend” Noah comments as the door closes.

“She is. Been by my side forever” you say. Toying with the flimsy white hospital blanket. “You know you don’t need to help me. I know tour is still going and-“

“There’s nothing you need to worry about. It’s all been handled” he says calmly, intertwining his hand with your fidgeting one, looping his fingers between yours.

“Thank you” you say with a shaky voice. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were scared.

Over the next few hours, there are a few more visits from nurses, making sure that the injuries weren’t serious and that you were in the clear to leave. They seemed relieved when they saw the way Noah held out his hand for you to steady your balance. Despite a feeble attempt to walk on your own, he was insistent, and you couldn’t deny that it was indeed helpful to have him there.

He helped you into a cab that was ready and waiting, and you gave the directions to your home.

The cab ride was quiet, but Noah kept his hand in yours. He was careful as to not squeeze too hard as to hurt the bruising, and rushed as fast as he could to hold the door open for you when you finally arrived home.

You step from the cab and gather your belongings in a small bag, which Noah promptly takes for you and slings over his shoulder. You huff in response.

“I’ll need that so that I can unlock the front door.” You hold out a hand expectantly, but Noah ignores it. Instead, he runages through the tote, shuffling back the phone, wallet, even a stray tampon, and then raises the keys triumphantly. A few silver keys dangled, paired with your old key ring and the key to your car.

“I remember these!” He said happily as he reminisced on the story of how you met.

“That seems like forever ago” you reply, following as Noah walks towards the door, swinging it open and motioning his hand in front of him.

You step through the threshold and into your living room, glancing around to see the scattered mess that you had left pieces of clothing strewn carelessly by your bedroom door, after the fiasco that had made you be in such a rush earlier that morning. It was a little embarrassing, but with the feeling of drowsiness starting to set in, it didn’t really bother you that much.

Noah walks past you, placing your bag of belongings into the small island that was the center of your kitchen. He notices the yawn you let out and walks over to you, gently placing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a hug.

Your arms curl up to his chest as you rest your shoulder on him, his heartbeat steady beneath his shirt. Your eyes close, and you let out a breath, feeling content for the first time in hours.

“You should probably get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” His grip tightens, and then loosens, as if to gesture to you to do as he says.

And you were not in the mood to argue. “Make yourself at home” you say, looking up at him drowsily, and he offers you a sweet smile back.

Without anything else said, you turn, heading straight for your bedroom. With the door closed, lights off, and finally under the covers, it didn’t take long to fall into a deep sleep.

It might have been the pain killers, the dark room, and just because you were flat-out exhausted, but it was hours later when you finally woke up.

There was no way of knowing what hour it was, your phone was somewhere else and the sky outside was a dark veil of a blue-black. Tip-toeing to the door, it creaks open, the light from the kitchen and living area still alight.

The clock on the wall shows the hands pointed at 12:45AM, and the TV continued to play a show that you hadn’t seen before. You walk towards the lounge, trying your best to be quiet on the hardwood floors as you could see an arm slung sleepily over the edge of the lounge, but fail once something twitches inside you, tugging at the injuries. You let out an involuntary yelp, falling forwards, arm only just catching the back of the sofa. Your other arm curled around your torso, clutching as though you were trying to hold yourself together. Tears started to well up and you were breathing heavily, huffing to try and control the searing pain that was starting to spread.

You startle Noah as he jolts upright in a panic, his hair completely strewn. His eyes are still half closed as he stumbles to his feet over to you, tripping over his feet a little. When he reaches your side, he helps you, taking a hand in yours, the other hand resting on your shoulder, semi-carrying your weight to lead you to sit down.

He steadies you as you lower, sitting while letting out a shaky breath. He still had your hand, clutching your fingers between his as your heartbeat finally started to come down to a normal pace.

Noah’s face was still covered in shock, processing what was happening around him. He looked concerned, hesitant to move, to touch you or help in any other way.

“I’m…. so…. sorry…” you huffed between breaths.

“S’okay” he murmured in response, clearly still half asleep.

“I can’t believe you’re still here” you say, looking at Noah, who met your eyes. It was an attempt to fill the silence growing in the room, and to distract you from the throbbing still occurring in your ribs.

“I wasn’t going to leave you here on your own.”

“You have things to do, shows to play. You can stay here, of course, but don’t you need to leave soon?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” It was the casualness that he said it, that made you worry.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, and he smiles, looking down at your hands.

“Everything has been sorted.” He comments, wriggling his fingers, turning your hand over in his.

“You’re awfully vague for someone who has everything planned out,” now you’re watching your hands, Noah begins to trace the lines of blue veins he sees under your skin.

“You didn’t cancel, did you?” It was almost embarrassing how fast you came to that conclusion, but he chuckles.

“No, the show is still happening. It’s not that far of a drive. Everyone else is heading in earlier, and I’ll meet them before the show starts.” He places your hand down, lifting his arm to rest over your shoulder. “And so will you.”

You look at him, unsure of what he was going on about.

“I don’t ha-“

“Like I said. It’s sorted.” He gives a small eyebrow raise as if to imply ‘I win’.

You, on the other hand, determined to flesh out as many details, pressed on.

“So how will we get there?”

“Car.” Noah was quick to respond.

“Who’s car?”

“Hire.”

“How long of a drive?”

“‘Bout an hour.”

He was looking smug now. You thought quickly to come up with more questions.

“What about after the show?”

“I’ll drive you back.”

“You’re not doing that.” You demand. That was too much on him.

“Yes I am.” He sounded like a stubborn child.

“It’ll be too late.”

His head rolls to the side, looking directly into your eyes.

“I’m a big boy, I can drive at night.”

It might have been the confidence that oozed from his voice, or the fact that he just called himself a ‘big boy’, but you felt something flip inside your stomach, a heat rising up to your chest, red bow flushing your cheeks with a hot glow.

All you could offer was a smile, looking back into his dark oak eyes. The way he was looking at you made you feel the safest you had ever felt.

Something came over you, and you held your breath, eyes slipping closed as you lean in, ever so slightly to Noah.

It could have been a hug, a kiss on the check, or something more mundane, but Noah knew this was an invitation. One he happily and needily accepted.

His lips meet yours, keeping his pressure light, but you needed a little more than that. You leaned more into the kiss, and he read the message loud and clear. His body shifts so that he’s facing you, leaning back and pulling you with him to sit atop his lap. Your lips are moving a little faster now, starting to part ever so slightly, so much that you can just feel Noah sweep his tongue over your lip. You reciprocate the action, holding onto either side of his face with your hands, knees now pinned on either side of his torso. Your lips part again, this time offering your tongue, and Noah opens needily. His breath is hot on your face as he tries to hold back every nerve in his body from taking this too far.

His head shifts closer to you, doing what he can in such confined space to bring you closer to him. His mouth moves with intent, like he was controls g each micro movement of his.

With the slightest tilt of your head, Noah’s lips crept to the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of fire where his lips and tongue darted across your skin. His hands gripped at your waist, digging into the sensitive skin being exposed from your shirt being tugged up just a little. His thumb rubbed carefully as though to say sorry, even though he wasn’t apologetic in the slightest.

All your mouth could do, while Noah’s lips were now starting to run down to your collarbone, was hang open. The sensation, the heat, and the overwhelming fire inside you made it impossible to move, just in case if you did then all this would stop.

Noah watched the way you were falling apart, and he loved every second of it. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, he wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

When his mouth returned to yours, you followed his lead. Tongues were dancing intricately and intensely with each other. Heavy breathing would waft in brief periods when either if you needed a second to catch your breath, so the other would find something else to do with their mouth.

His hands are tight on your hips, fingers trailing up and down under your shirt, leaving the slightest of red marks from the pressure. It took everything in you to ignore the glaring pain that burned in your ribs, the feeling of fire ripping from both sides made your breath stop. Your head lifts a little, slowing down your passionate kiss, but Noah raises his head with yours, although as to make the moment linger for just a while longer.

You hated to do it, but there was no choice. The already existing bruises and injuries, paired with the lack of oxygen from not breathing properly was enough to make you lightheaded. You would have doubled over if you hadn’t already been laying horizontally.

You pull away, shifting so your hands are in fists on either side of Noah, bundled up and pressed into the thick fabric of the lounge. Eyes are tightly squeezed shut to focus on controlling your breaths.

Noah watches as a panic starts to rise.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“Noah, shut up.” You bark. His rambling makes it harder to will yourself to sit upright.

You push yourself back, now kneeling back in your legs, perched on Noah’s lap. Brushing your hair from your face, it takes a moment to steady yourself, but after twenty seconds, your eyes open. The pain is starting to subside.

Noah looks like he was in trouble. He held his hands up in surrender beneath you. Eyes blown wide as he took in the sight of you sitting precariously close to a certain something he had no control over in his pants.

He begins to shift beneath you, pulling himself up onto his elbows, eyeing you warily.

“Was that too much?” He questions.

One of your hands goes to rub the side of your face, eyes droop closed. You nod in response to him.

“It just hurt a little.”

You hadn’t noticed the tear that slipped out until it rolled down your cheek and fell onto Noah’s white shirt. His hand rubs up and down your arm to comfort you. With another shaky exhale, you open your eyes. Noah is being careful, despite his own desires at the moment, he looks at you as if to find the answer to what you need in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you finally say.

“For comforting you, or for kissing you?”

“…is it too weird to say both?” You both chuckle at the awkward remark. “I guess making out while you have injuries from a car accident isn’t the best way to have your first kiss together.”

Your legs slip off Noah, standing slowly and straightening out the clothes which had become so very twisted in the moments before. Noah sits up too, tugging at the sweatpants so they sit better, before reaching for a pillow, placing it gently on his lap.

You raise an eyebrow at him, before letting out a gutsy laugh. His eyes widen and looks to be shy all of a sudden.

“What?! I’m trying not to ruin the moment!” He states, but you can’t respond, still laughing at the innocence contrasted with the reason.

“Look, there’s other ways to get rid of it” he murmurs beneath his breath, teasingly, yet cautiously. His eyes are on you, wondering if the lewd joke had pushed the boundaries.

There was no denying the fire of lust burning in you, the way he made you feel made you weak at the knees.

“If it weren’t for these injuries, I’m sure we’d be finding out what those ways are.”

The somewhat directness from you caught him a little off guard, and it turned him on even more. He had to shift in his heat and readjust the pillow just to make his arousal a little less obvious.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered state, and the way he looked away from you when you turned to see his reaction. He even raised his hand, biting down on a finger in an attempt to distract himself.

You laugh again, knowing full well nothing else could happen. These injuries were cockblocking you to the extreme. As inviting and tempting as he was, the pain wasn’t worth it. He knew it too.

After the moment had passed, Noah shifted again, moving the pillow so it sat by his side. He padded it, and you lay down, placing your head on the pillow. His fingers start to tangle with your hair, pulling and twirling the loose threads that were strewn across your face.

The low murmur from the TV was enough of a lullaby, paired with Noah’s careful caressing, that you drifted off to sleep soon enough. Noah stayed awake for a little while longer though. He watched the way your eyes fluttered behind their kids. The way your face would twitch or twist as your dreams u folded before you. He also noticed the way your body relaxed when he gently placed a hand on your side, thumb rubbing careful circles to sooth you.

Just as he was about to fall into a slumber, we was on the brink of a dream state himself, when you utter his name. A loving smile graced your face, and it made Noah’s heart swell tenfold. He knew, after this moment, he would do anything in his power to keep you.

Part 5

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens fan fics #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fan fic #bad omens cult #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #badnoahmens

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lokisrealpurpous · 14 days

Text

cramps

loki x reader with endometriosis

warnings: mention of blood, mentions of periods, extremely bad period pain.

lokis fiancé has always struggled with her endometriosis, the pain leading her every month to passing out, throwing up or sometimes even in hospital and he dreaded knowing there was nothing he could do, but he finds a way.

this is for all my endometriosis girlies , as someone who has it themselves I wish it was spoke about more and that doctors didn't neglet it so much, getting forced to go on the pill and never given a remedy since 10yrs old is a horrible experience. My heart goes out to you all. If you'd like more like this, maybe small headshots of him looking after you in hospital or how he reacts when you faint, then please send requests or comment x

Loki's pov

I had arrived late from the mission I had so desperately been trying to get back from after seeing the 4 missed calls and 18 text messages left from my fiancé. I couldn't check the messages, being in a jet so high up there was only little WiFi, which was all being used by stark, so I sat in the back anxiously, merely muttering a word as i begged the trusted gods above me to keep her safe before I get to her.

I knocked gently before bursting into our bedroom, I was frantic and worried, adrenaline rushing through my veins before I stilled, seeing her lay on the bed, curled around a hot water bottle. Her face was flushed red, and her teeth were gritted. Her hair was a mess, and the blankets her tangled around her. The pill bottle on the side was empty, and the sickbowl on the other was not.

"heya dove..."

I whisper, slowly coming up beside the bed, pulling down some of the blanket that covered her pale but flustered face teasingly before sitting beside her, bringing her weak form in my arms and kissing her forehead.

"is it your cramps?"

I whisper again, running my hands through her knotted hair, untangling it gently.

She nods slowly against my chest, finally looking up at me so I could see her entire face. It was tearburnt and swollen.

"Oh darling..."

I take her face in my hands, rubbing her cheek softly with my thumb. I lift her up, bringing her further into my lap and wrapping my arms around her waist as they find her lower abdomen, I massage the area gently while kissing her neck.

"This good?"

I mumble and she nods again, leaning against my chest. I felt the guilt twist in my stomach that I wasn't able to get here earlier during her flare up, I was proud she managed to find her medication and get herself a sickness bowl, but the thought of her having to do all that while in absolute agony, then to be sick without me to hold her hair and rub her stomach, i never wanted to leave her side again.

"I was fine."

I hear her croak out.

"I don't always need my knight in shining armour my love, I know how to take care of myself."

I let a sigh of relief before kissing her neck, still massaging her lower stomach.

"I know princess, I just worry."

She chuckles, turning her head up to kiss my lips, then laying between my legs, her head resting on my chest, humming as I eased the tension in her belly.

It didn't take long for her fall asleep on top of me, and not long for myself either once switching off the crystal lamp beside us.

your pov 2:27am

I sat up, taking in the shadows of darkness that surrounded me as I reached across my lover's body to turn on the bedside lamp.

my hand flies to my mouth as I let out a groan of pain, not at all wanting to wake loki up, then slipping out of his embrace towards the bathroom until I realised the sheets and my brand new baby-pink nightgown.

'shit shit shit'

I mutter, stood in the middle of the dimly lit room, clutching onto my stomach as tears begin to well in my eyes.

I cover my mouth with both my hands now, pressing hard to stop the sobs escaping. The pain was unbearable as I held onto my dresser, my new gown and sheets were stained crimson, loki layed right next to the mess on our mattress, I had no medication left and I would not make it down the stairs to make myself a bottle.

wake him up.

I kept telling myself, but I couldn't bring myself to do so.

Before I could act upon a single thought, however, a wave of nausea crashed over me as the pain stabbed at my stomach, feeling as if my uterus was collapsing in on itself. I desperately ran to the toilet, holding onto the seat and puking into the bowl. My stomach churned and tightened as I gagged.. another meal rising up my throat.

Every spiralling worry stopped when I felt his hands run through my hair, pulling it out my face and using the band that was in just in his hair to tie mine in a tight ponytail.

He knelt beside me, rubbing my back and whispering things I couldn't make sense of at the moment with the pain still cursing me.

"Loki..."

I sob, gagging over the toilet but not being sick.

He continued rubbing, kissing my head and making sure I'm sat comftable, I didn't even realise how he had put me in his lap.

"nghh.."

I groan, holding onto my stomach, my hands gripping and the area and pulling and pushing, I didn't know what I was doing but I just wanted the pain off... I couldn't bare it...

"Lokiiiiii"

I groan again, my voice strained in pain.

"P...please"

My voice cracks, tears spilling down my cheeks. Once he realised my scratching hands, he pulled them away slowly, replacing them with his own and massaging again.

I let out a whimper of pain.

"Shhh shh shh... trust me my darling, just relax"

He coos, rocking me side to side in his arms.

My eyes suddenly widen as I feel his palms heat up to the perfect temputure as he continues kneeding my skin.

I whine, leaning against him, the pain fading with every movement of his huge hands that now had mine wrapped around them. He dosent stop, just whispering words of affirmation in my ears and swaying me with himself as my eyes began to flutter shut, my body finally feeling at ease and calm.

"That's it..."

I hear him whisper as he lifts me in his arms, hands still on my belly..

"You're okay love, ive got you"

He says as he lies me in a bed, the sheets changed and fresh, and a new nightgown dressing my body with the flash of a small green light.

How he does it I will never know but I do know that him, and his mother's parenting, will always be there to guide me through terrible nights like this.

"I love you Lo..." I whisper as I feel my body sink into the mattress and a kiss on my lips, large arms wrapping around my waist.

"I love you more, my darling.."

He replies with another kiss, then turns the lamp off, keeping his hands on my abdomen throughout the early morning till dawn.

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the-hidden-pages · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 4 - Thigh Riding | Sex Pollen - Jaskier x Fem!Reader

Thigh riding | Sex pollen | Forced orgasm

Disclaimer: I did interpret “sex pollen” as loose as aphrodisiac - it’s not an actual pollen, it’s a liquid. Also, it's late, I have work, I did rush a little to get this out but it's better than another day sans post I hope!

Summary: Geralt had warned you of the dangers of consorting with witches. But you had never anticipated the dangers being this.

Warnings: NSFW, Public Sex/Orgies, Aphrodisiac, Dub Con because of the aphrodisiac but they love each other I swear.

Geralt had warned you.

Geralt had warned you of the dangers of witches often enough. Even Yennefer, a witch herself, often advised against mingling with others that dabble in Chaos.

But that didn’t stop Jaskier from accepting the opportunity of performing on behalf of a town’s witch.

It didn’t stop you from attending the gathering in support of him.

Which is how the pair of you wound up in the mansion of the local town’s “healer”, surrounded by townsfolk that were in the know, and various other mages and witches.

Jaskier had sung wonderfully, as captivating as he ever did - and to hold the attention of those as vain as witches and mages was no small feat, you’ll give him that.

As the night went on, he was free to mingle, returning to your side and sip on the wine that was being freely poured, to feast on the foods presented.

“And to think Geralt was worried,” Jaskier scoffed, in his element, overconfident in the way he often became when things were going a little too smoothly.

It didn’t stop you from smiling though, an easy grin matching his on your face. “A worrywart, that one. A white haired worrywart of a Witcher.”

“Isn’t he just? He ought to have more trust in us.”

You chuckled, taking another sip before waving your glass in emphasis. “Did he warn you about the wine?”

“No, what of it?”

“Yennefer mentioned some witches put something in it, an aphrodisiac. Makes the night more fun as it goes on.”

Jaskier made a face, somewhere between a grimace and a grin. “Oh woe is me, a witch’s orgy. Save me, Butcher of Blaviken!”

A snort escapes you as the pair of you take another sip, continuing to pass the time discussing his various adventures with Geralt, his performance, and the various attendees of the soiree.

The conversation carried on easily, until the vibe of the room suddenly, inexplicably, intangibly…Shifted

Suddenly the air was heavier, thicker in a way that was hotter, heavier. It felt as though the voices of the other partygoers was quieting, slowing down. You became more aware of certain things - men sitting with their hands on other women’s thighs, just a little too high. A flush on women’s cheeks that ran a little brighter, went a little further down than the typical blush from too much wine.

And you were very aware of Jaskier sitting beside you.

His thigh lightly touching yours was suddenly scalding you, but in a way that you felt you simply couldn’t move away.

You hadn’t realized you had stopped listening to the conversation entirely until Jaskier called your name.

You met his eyes, ready to apologize, before immediately regretting it.

Were his eyes always so piercing? His hair always so soft? Did you always notice how deeply he unbuttoned his shirt, how noticeable the droplets of sweat were running down it.

Oh.

“Jaskier,” you croaked out, suddenly noticing how dry your mouth was. You licked your lips and continued. “Jaskier, the wine. I don’t think Geralt was wrong.”

“Hmm?” the bard only hummed, and you met his eyes again. He was practically in a trance, staring at where your tongue had darted out to wet your lips.

Slowly, around you, you begin to hear soft sighs, and the lower, hushed tones of lovers speaking to one another.

You grow more aware of the unbearable, present, nearly painful heat between your legs, and when you shift, you realize that you’re already drenched.

“Jask…”

The bard reached forward, placing a large, warm, calloused hand on your thighs.

“They spiked the wine,” he breathes out, turning himself enough that his head is resting against yours, words breathing right in your ear and sending chills down your spine.

“Mhm,” your eyes are closed, trying to ignore the stimuli coming from all senses that your body seems hyper aware of. The gasps, the quiet moans, people growing closer.

Jaskier right beside you.

“Darling we can leave right now,” he breathes, hand on your thigh growing tighter, wandering ever so slightly higher. “We can rent a room in the nearest tavern - or two, if you want to wait this out. We don’t have to stay -”

You cut him off, pushing him back. You can see him start to form an apology, but before giving him the chance you stand and move to position yourself on his lap, straddling his legs and capturing him in a frantic kiss.

It’s not coordinated, or careful, or planned. The moment Jaskier’s brain catches up to what you’ve done, he’s immediately pried your lips open with his tongue, tasting you, claiming you, his hand coming around to cradle your head and pull you in deeper. His other hand wanders quickly, greedily, grasping at every inch of you that he can.

You already don’t want clothes in the way.

As quickly as you get on him, you stand again. The bard is dazed, bright eyes nothing but dark pupils gazing at you as you begin to make quick work of your clothes.

It’s the wine, some tiny, miniscule part in the back of your mind speaks. It’s the wine making you strip in front of a room of strangers, the wine making you mount your friend in a fit of desire.

The wine. Only the wine.

It has to be.

Your hands, in their flurry, begin to struggle with the laces, of which Jaskier is far too eager to help you with.

He leans forward, reaching up to help you loosen the corset. As it’s flung somewhere to your side, he makes quick work of your undershirt, your skirts.

Quickly, so quickly it all began, and just as quickly you’re completely nude, with the bard urging you back into his lap.

In your haste, you slip a little, falling to one side and straddling only one of his thighs.

Despite this you moan, jolting slightly as sliding on the thigh offers some friction to your throbbing clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, grasping on to his shoulders tightly, your body moving without your full consent as you seek any form of relief to the growing burn within you.

It’s too much, the feeling of the cotton trousers beneath you, offering a burning friction to satiate your need, the growing groans echoing throughout the entire room.

It’s not enough, when Jaskier himself lets out a beautiful moan, feeling you begin to soak through his clothes as you claw at him desperately.

“Dove, please,” he begs, leaning forward to pepper your neck and collarbone with bites. Your hips rock faster, until he tugs harshly at your hair, exposing your neck fully as you shout. His teeth mark your neck and his grip remains firm, his other hand wandering down to aide your movements.

Your mind, in its wine and drug and lust addled haze, can only focus on two things: easing the burn between your legs, and hearing one of his beautiful sounds again.

And so your hand promptly finds his cock, working it through the flap in his trousers and stroking.

Gods is he hard.

It’s his turn to have his head thrown back, to let out a loud, melodic moan to the room to join the symphony of the others’. It’s rougher than you expected, lightly due to his night of signing and shouting boisterously to a room, but hells did it ever manage to turn you on.

You’re rushing it, you know it, he knows it, but somehow no one can bring themselves to mind as you raise yourself up further, straddling him properly once again.

You stare into the bard’s blue eyes, taking in every expression as you sink down fully, gasping as you feel every inch, every curve, every vein. It’s easy, with how wet you’ve become, and within seconds you’re riding him and hard as you can.

He’s eager to help you, hands grasping your hips so tightly they’re bound to leave bruises, controlling your pace and pulling you ever so slightly closer.

“This isn’t,” Jaskier gasped out, between groans and moans bites to your neck. “This isn’t what I wanted for our first night together.”

“You dreamed of this?” You tease half-heartedly, feeling a warmth in your heart bloom despite the absurdity of the situation.

Was this bard really about to give you a love confession whilst balls deep in you in the midst of a sex party?

“Of course,” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut. “Gods, so many nights I wanted to have you, in the nearest room in a tavern, against the nearest wall, in the midst of camp. There was a plan, wine and dinner and singing and flowers, just us - fuck do that again.”

You reach for his hair, forcefully pulling his head back to meet your gaze.

“We’ll do this again,” you promise, thighs burning as you ride faster, chasing that growing feeling within you. “I’ve wanted it too, and we’ll talk about it when this damned wine isn’t in our heads but Jaskier, please just fuck me right now I’m so close -”

He stops you, hand travelling forward to meet your clit, rubbing in just the right way that has you seeing stars within seconds.

With your high comes his, and you can’t help but whine at the feeling of his cum shooting deep within you, warming you from the inside out as you clutch each other desperately, needly, as though you were the answer to some eternal unasked question.

As the pair of you come down, gasping, panting, your ears pick up the rest of the party beginning to quiet as well. It was almost as if the spell had a time limit, you thought aimlessly.

As you came to, and the sensations began to dull, your mind grew louder.

You had just fucked Jaskier.

You were still sitting on his cock.

As you go to move, his hand holds your hip tightly, and the other travels upwards to brush some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek. His gaze is gentle, kind, but hungry.

“We’ll do it again, you say?” he teases, that overconfident smirk back on his face. You can feel him hardening inside you once again, and you shift as a reflex, causing a burst of heat to ignite in you once again. “What say you to back at the inn?”

********************************************************

They did not give me cannonical aphrodisiac usage at witch parties for nothing.

Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for their Kinktober list this year!

#fawktober2023 #kinktober2023 #x reader #x reader smut #jaskier #jaskier x reader

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alessiathepirate · 1 year

Text

Resident Evil 4

NIGHT TERRORS: Luis Serra x fem!reader

Summary: Waking up from a nightmare and feeling afraid isn't easy get through - unless you have someone who can comfort you.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

My Spanish is horrible, so I apologize if something isn't written the way it should be written or if the word is used in the wrong context.

Warnings: swearing, references to PTSD, hurt/comfort

•••

Her eyes snapped open as she sat up quickly, almost rolling of the bed while doing so. Her forehead was shining from drops of sweat, her legs were shaking from fear. With her heart pounding faster than usual she looked around the still dark room and when she recognized it as her own, she tried her best to calm down and settle her heartbeat and breathing back to normal.

Nightmares like this weren't anything new, she got used to it by now, but it didn't mean they got less scary or uncomfortable. She woke up like this many times, late at night or at dawn finding herself unable to go back to sleep.

She pulled her legs up to her chest, hugged them and rested her head on her knees. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

Ever since Spain the nightmares became worse and worse. She was already a mess during the night before the events there, but now it sometimes became unbearable. Too many horrible events accured in Spain while looking for Ashley Graham with Leon. Too many close calls, too many wounds that scarred. Too many accidents involving almost loosing a loved one.

The last one was the worst and with that was the main plot of her night terrors. She often envied the people who can forget these kind of things easily, the people who can let go. She can't.

" 'Everything all right, cariño?" the voice sounded sleepy, but was gentle regardless. Her heart jumped at the sudden noise as it broke the silence, but immediately settled back down when she recognized who it belonged to.

"Yeah, it was just a nightmare."

Sometimes it was still weird, knowing she's not alone and knowing she isn't sleeping alone in her bed. It was also comforting, really comforting - especially when the person she was dreaming about, the person she lost in her dream started to draw gentle circles into her back, then into her shoulder blades.

She heard movements and then felt a presence next to her. Luis sat up and put his right arm around her, using the other to make her look at him while also being as tender as possible. She looked at him, examined all of his features and gestures, trying to memorize the way his lips are moving and the way his eyes are shining.

He was all right, he was next to her and they were far-far away from Spain.

"Do you want to talk about it, querida?"

She hid her face in his neck and closed her eyes, enjoying the way he feels and the way he smells. It felt nice - having someone for comfort like this, a lover who hugs her and talks to her softly.

"I dreamt that I lost you." she said quickly, wanting to get the sentence out as fast as possible to get through the pain it brought. "I don't want to loose you."

"You didn't loose me, cariño, I'm here thanks to you. I owe you my life." his grip on her tightened and she pressed a kiss to his neck.

"You helped me get the damned plaga out of me and the others. We are even."

He brushed some hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Do you want to get back to sleep?"

"I just wanna lay down with you." she started, then quickly added: "Please, corazón?"

He let out a small laugh before lying down with her, making sure she was as close to him as possible.

"Your Spanish improved."

"Yeah, it had to improve. I didn't understand half the things you called me."

"I can always translate it to you if you ask."

She just chuckled. "Yeah, the last time I asked what something meant you lied to me."

They left it at that and just laid there close to the other. She rested her head on Luis's chest while she caressed his shoulder. Meanwhile, he continued to draw patterns into her skin where her shirt didn't cover her back.

Her uneven breathing finally settled down and the only reason her heart was beating faster than it should, was the fact that Luis was the one lying next to her. It was nice to experience how tamed and actually romantic he could be when he was with her. Sure, his flirting was still there sometimes and the pet names he called her were getting out of hand, but now she wasn't just a señorita.

Her hand touched the scar on his chest, what got there when the plaga was removed. She loved that scar, even if it brought back some unwanted memories. The scar meant that without Luis she and her companions would've never got out of Spain alive. It meant that he was a good guy even if he acted like the man her mother warned her about. To Hell with her warning, nothing in the world will take this man away from her.

The scar also made her remember that he has another one on his back. It's still a darker shade of red and it'll never heal perfectly. The wound was way too deep for it to look like a tiny cut. That damn scar was the reason she had nightmares about loosing him. That was the reason why she was afraid to look at the other side of the bed in the morning, afraid that she'll see no one, afraid that she'll have to realize Luis is dead.

Sometimes she thought about what would've happened if she wasn't there with them - with Luis and Leon - that day. The knife Krauser threw made a nasty wound and when he pulled the piece of metal out, her lover was very close to dying - either from blood loss or from pain. She didn't even dare to think about it.

She climbed closer to Luis and hugged him tighter. She shouldn't think about 'what if's. To put and end to her train of thought, she kissed the scar he had on his chest.

"Thank you." she whispered.

"For what?"

"For being here with me."

"You should say a thank you for yourself as well, querida. You were a real nice doctor."

"Yeah, I managed to keep the ladies' man alive."

"I was only your man long before that."

"Yes, you were." she said with a small, happy smile, not even trying to hide it from him. "I was probably the only woman your flirting was working on." she teased.

"I achieved my goal, it seems."

Her cheeks became a lighter shade of pink, the thoughts about 'what if's long forgotten. He succedded in comforting her and making her forget about the fear she felt after she woke up.

She leaned up to give him a kiss, doing her best to put an honest thank you and I love you into it. Then she closed her eyes and let the soft patterns, what he was still drawing into her skin, put her back to sleep, this time being a hundred percent sure he'll be next to her when she wakes up.

#resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #luis sera #luis sera x reader #luis sera x fem!reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #ashley graham #hurt/comfort #fluff #resident evil #resident evil x reader #luis serra #luis serra x reader #luis serra x fem!reader

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strongheartneteyam · 11 days

Text

I wet you like water but she stained you like blood.

Pairing: widowed!dilf!jake sully x younger!female!human!reader

CW: slight sexual language, can be triggering to some, heartbreak, age gap kink, hurt/no comfort, age gap relationship problems, angst, reader reminiscing (pls tell me if I missed anything)

So, yeah... I never know when I'm gonna come back with another writing. My hiatus n working periods are all a bit unpredictable lol sorry. Anyways... I literally spent the whole night awake n I was struck by a sudden lightning of creativity early in the morning and I edited this chapter n wrote a bit more, but I still haven't slept at all, so, I apologize if some parts of this make no sense at all. I'll fix it when I can. Hope you guys like it <3 ily guys a whole lot :)) obs: this chapter is a shorter one.

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 4 𓆩♡𓆪

They say all's well that ends well

But I'm in a new hell every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would've been fine

And that made me want to die

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

All Too Well - 10 minutes Version (Taylor Swift)

𓆩♡𓆪

It had been 1 year since the last time you saw Jacob Sully. Or Jakey, like you used to call him. The wound never healed. It still throbbed and bled every time you remembered the words he told you that dreadful day. "I think we should stop seeing each other." It felt like you would never get over him. How can one get over such an overpowering, raw feeling? He marked you forever, like a bruise that seemed to never disappear from your skin.

The flashback came like thunder in a storm, haunting your thoughts with a loud pain that echoed through your mind. What you told Jake that night.

“The truth is I love you. The truth is I can't take this anymore. I'm giving you my everything but you don't seem to be doing the same. You're still guarded.” There was a tense period of silence “Jake… I love you. But I don't think you feel the same.”

Maybe you shouldn't have said anything. Maybe if you had kept your mouth shut, he would still be with you.

Ugh!! Stop that, now, (y/n)! Some self love, please? You're better than this. You deserve better.

You tried to convince yourself of that, at least.

The pain was unbearable at times and almost easy to conceal at other times. It depended on how distracted with work or your studies you were. These days you ran to any distraction that could ease the perpetual angst that squeezed your heart inside its hands all the fucking time. It had been like that ever since Jake left you. What were you expecting anyway? You should have known you were never truly loved by Jake. The love of his life was Neytiri and it would always be, alive and walking through Pandora or dead and with Eywa.

It felt beyond weird to have to hear people talking about Jake and have to pretend he was a stranger to you, someone you barely knew, when he had actually left a mark so strong on you, a memory ingrained in your brain, a feeling, a pain buried inside your heart that made you want to scream and hit your head against a wall. That's how much it hurt.

You would never have his body against yours again, warming you up when it was cold, after you spent the whole day in that damn lab, studying Pandoran plants but all you could really concentrate on was how much you missed his reassuring, protective presence. He made you feel safe for the first time in your life. But now he is gone. Just like every single good thing you ever had in your life. But you know what? Maybe your mother was right, maybe love wasn't really something that could ever last forever.

Did Jake ever really make a real effort to be with you? Thinking back, it was extremely easy for him to just come to you and fuck you anytime he felt sad and lonely. What if you had just been a naive, dumb girl all this time? Were you mourning a love that never actually

existed? It was always so hard to talk to him about his feelings for you, he never actually let you in, to be honest. All the time you two spent together, you were never able to know if he ever saw you as a partner or just a fuck buddy.

Oh, but the high… it was worth all the lows. The butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were almost caught fucking in the back of your work room by Norm. Eventually you guys had to tell him about your situationship because, oh well… he already knew what was going on, really. Norm is not a fool or a child. He could add 2 plus 2.

The adrenaline was worth all the tears. And, fuck… you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

𓆩♡𓆪

Taglist:

@aonungsoneandonly

@coldbabyheroin

@fairyyrosee

@myh3artttt

@explosiongamora

@ufiy

@yeosxxx

@happyyappysworld

@avatar4eva

@henhouse-horrors

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@fujimoribaby

@layla2-49

@zoetrope1997

@yeosxxx

@luvv4j4ybe11

@bakugouswaif

@slytherdor01

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barcalover86 · 8 months

Note

Hii! I love your work! <3

Can I ask you a Gavi x reader where the reader's wrist is injured and she can't move it, she can't write, she can't cook basically she can't do anything and Gavi do everything instead of her and taking care of her?

Thank you!!! <3

My turn - Pablo Gavi

"No, no. I'll take that!" offered Gavi to help you take some clothes from your wardrobe.

You recently injured your wrist, and after a visit to your doctor, he recommended you not make big efforts with it and rest. It wasn't something bad. It hurt, but it wasn't unbearable.

Rolling your eyes, being already annoyed at your boyfriend's clinginess, you tell him that you can do it yourself. Of course, he doesn't accept your negative answer, and give you the clothes that you wanted to wear today.

"Pablo, you have a training to arrive, I'm good. Really."

"I know you can handle whatever you wish, cariño, but if I can help you, why not do it then?" He smiled sweetly at you while then kissing your cheek.

You blush at his gesture, turning around to change.

You were given a few days off your work so that you could rest, but you just couldn't stay in the house and do nothing.

While Gavi was ready to go to his practice, you spoke up.

"Can I come with you?"

He turned happily with sparkling eyes.

"Oh, please!" he replied excited.

You quickly looked for the last time in the mirror, before you went to your boyfriend that helped you with your shoes.

He took your well hand and drove you both to his training.

"I want you to call me if something is hurting you, alright?"

"Oh, yes, Gavi! I'll be fine anyways."

"Don't 'Gavi' me, y/n. It's really serious. Call me, please."

You rolled your eyes once again, but kissed him while chuckling at his protective behaviour.

"Good luck out there. Take care!"

"Gracias, amor."

He gave you another kiss on your injured wrist, then went to train.

The practice had to last almost 2h, but with the slow boys in their changing room you had to stay there for about 4.

You hadn't eaten anything, and you started to get dizzy, being really hungry.

You decided to head to the nearest store to at least buy you a cold coffee until you were able to eat, but as you were about to walk down the stairs, you fell and hit your head badly, while trying to protect your arm.

You immediately stood up, being more embarrassed now to feel any kind of pain.

"Are you ok, señorita!?" asked a man that was working for Barcelona. "I can call the doctors, you hit your head pretty well."

You smiled politely and shook your head, not being able to form any words from your mouth.

You quickly left the stands and went anywhere else so that you could cry alone.

You tried hard not to let tears fall down your cheeks, but just now the pain felt unbearable.

You wanted to reach for your phone, but it was hard to take it with one hand from your jeans bucket, so you just stood up, dizzy and hurt, waiting for your boyfriend to finally change.

You just realised that it was a bad idea to even come here.

Gavi looked out for you for some while until the man that saw you fall down, told him where you went.

"Gavi, she hit her head badly when she wanted to come after you. Check on her!"

When the boy heard that, he ran to you scared that something bad happened to you.

When you saw him, you tried not to cry more, but it was impossible, especially when you saw his hurt face.

"Oh, cariño. Why can't you be careful for once.." he said while hugging your shaking body.

He kissed your forehead before looking into your eyes.

"We should go to the medical stuff, y/n. It's near here."

"No, please. I don't want to."

"It's not something to joke about. We should really look out for a doctor."

"Pablo, I'm fine. Please let's just go home, because I'm really hungry."

He eventually gave up and drove you both back to your house, making yourself some eggs to eat.

"Don't you want me to help you with those Pablo?" you laugh at how he was trying to cook.

You were doing most of the times the food, being funny now to see him trying to do something for you.

"No, no. I'm good."

When he was done, he came to you and put the food on your lap while also putting his hand on your head.

"You know that if I hit my head doesn't mean that I'll also have a fever, right?"

He blushed, showing you his tongue.

"I was just checking you out.."

"I know. Thank you.."

He smiled at you and kissed your lips while putting your back on his chest.

The food wasn't the best, but you appreciated a lot Gavi's effort. He also made you a cup of coffee (you telling him exactly what he should do) before turning the TV on for you to watch the news.

After some time, you fell asleep in his arms. He was looking at you sleeping peacefully with his hand in your hair. He was sad that now you were the one in pain, but he promised himself that he will help you until you were healthy again.

When it was already evening you woke up.

The first thing that you saw was a lot of water on the couch's table and some snacks for you to eat.

"Morning, preciosa!" Gavi laughed, seeing you finally awake.

"Hola."

You drank a glass of water, while Pablo was telling you that your mom wrote to you.

"Do you want me to tell her something about you?"

"Yes, please. Tell her that I miss her too and that my wrist is getting better day by day."

"Ok. Should we tell her about your head as well?"

"No, no. Please no!"

After that, Pablo started to write your thoughts to your mom, before video calling her to see her face.

Your mom was so nice to your boyfriend and you loved their relationship.

After minutes of talking on the phone, you got hungry again, craving for some pizza.

"Do you want to make some pizza, Gavino?"

He chuckled nervously, knowing that his cooking skills, weren't as good as his football ones.

"We can buy some if you want."

"Oh, no no. It's not that good as home made, Pablito. I also want to see you cook for me again. Pleaseee"

"Fine. But you gotta help me with it." He laughed while you started to happy dance.

You told him exactly what he should do and after a long-long time, the pizza was finally done.

"Oh, god. It took you a good time, Pablito."

"I'm sorry! You were the one that was craving it. Why didn't you do it yourself then?"

You laughed while hugging him.

"I'm injured!"

He have you a shocked face. "No way! Are you?"

You laughed hard while giving him a kiss on his lips that he enjoyed very much.

"You are lucky that I was behind you and this pizza turned out to be good."

"I'm always lucky that I have you behing me in this life, y/n."

You smiled widely at his comment.

"Ohh, sweetboy. I love you too."

You kissed his nose.

"Don't tell anyone that I ate a pizza. My couch is going to kill me.."

After that, you took a shower while Gavi was outside of it, helping you with whatever he could. You were talking a lot about everything and anything, enjoying your moment.

You both brushed your teeth together before cuddling into bed.

Pablo was watching some tik toks when you were already asleep. For the last time this day, he looked at you with a smile on his face, then fell asleep as well in your arms.

I am sorry that you had to wait this much anon ♡ wish you all a nice day

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cntloup · 24 days

Text

After almost four months of working for Simon, you take a maternity leave... and your feelings for him start to bubble up

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

He holds you, gently rubbing your back as your stomach heaves and you throw up your lunch. You're in your third trimester and it’s been hell for you.

You sob onto his chest while clinging to him, from the agonizing pain in your abdomen and the unbearable nausea.

“Shh, it’s ok, luvie. I've got you.” he coos, holding you tighter and cradling your head against his chest as you bawl your eyes out.

Even though your mind is somewhat dazed, your heart still flutters at the nickname.

In almost four months of working as his assistant, you slowly drifted closer and closer to each other.

But you still don't know if you'd call yourselves friends or not, it's something more, yet less than what you wish to be.

After a few minutes spent on the bathroom floor in his office, you finally calm down a bit.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can work like this.” you apologize sheepishly while looking up at him through glossy eyes, still in his arms.

“That’s fine. You'll be on leave until you’re ready.” he says, looking back at you through hooded eyes.

“Really? There's no problem with that?”

“Yeah. It's ok. We'll get a substitute for now. The leave is with pay of course so no worries about money problems.” he responds and you throw your arms around him happily and hug him as well as you can with your swollen tummy, “Oh, Simon! Thank you so much.”

“ ‘s nothin’.” he replies while hugging you back.

“You can come stay with me, you know?” he mentions as he pulls away to look at you, your hair disheveled and your eyes puffy and red while sitting on the bathroom floor after throwing up for nearly half an hour, but oh how he still adores you... in this state... or in any state to be honest.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, throat too hoarse to speak any louder.

“I’m sure.” he replies sternly with a nod and you gaze into his eyes gratefully.

“I’ll help you pack up.” he adds, taking your silence and the look you just gave him as a yes.

“Thank you.” you say and try to get up, but fail miserably with your huge belly and utter exhaustion.

He gets up first and helps you up, “Careful, luv.” he murmurs as you stumble a bit, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you steady.

He helps you gather your stuff and carefully walks you to his car to drop you off at his place, his hand finding your waist and the other one holding yours.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be fine alone?” he asks with concern as he pulls up into his driveway.

“Yes, I'm gonna be fine for a few hours. In fact, I'm gonna take a nap.” you respond reassuringly with a smile.

“Take care, luv.” he smiles and you wave goodbye.

He leaves as you step inside the house and close the door.

You lean against the door and let out a squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl.

And you don’t even know why. Is it the hormones? Is it him?

It’s been a while since he’s making you feel some type of way.

You settle on the couch to take a nap, not wanting to take up his bed even though you know he wouldn’t mind. But still, it feels like an invasion of his privacy.

You don’t get much sleep as your mind and heart are encompassed by him.

You keep tossing and turning. For hours. Even though you’re utterly exhausted.

Until he returns home and walks over to you, “Hey... why didn't you sleep on the bed?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t really sleep at all.” you mumble as you try to get up, looking at him over the back of the couch.

“Why? You ok?” he asks with a concerned look etched on his face as he helps you sit up on the couch and he sits beside you.

“I’m fine, Si. It's just that... the hormones are making me feel weird is all.” you ramble, not really knowing how to answer him, also using the nickname which he insisted on you using. It just makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” he questions further, worry creeping up on him.

“No. It's fine. I'll take some pills and try to get some sleep. Don't worry.” you try to play it cool and shrug it off.

He gently carries you to bed and brings your meds, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing them to you with a glass of water.

“Get some rest, luv. I'll make you something to eat.” he mutters while tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as you lie down, eyes locked onto one another, making your heart skip a beat.

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes after he leaves, in hopes of getting even a little bit of much-needed sleep.

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nothomegal · 4 months

Text

“The little owl family” (Part 6)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: a very light reference to suicidal thoughts at the beginning.

Word Count: 4k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

It's been a day or two after that late meeting between (S/N) and Michael. And... Things went oddly well from then! The little girl became more relaxed in his presence, and would often send him small waves when (Y/N) wasn't looking, and Michael would often answer with the same little wave. It became a little secret game of theirs, it was simple yet fun. The numerous close calls of getting caught or suspected by the older sibling would always awake the childish mischief inside of the man, the possibility to fool around a bit made him feel oddly comfortable and at ease, like momentarily experiencing the childhood he never had.

He also noticed that (Y/N) themselves began to act more on ease around him. There weren't as many death glares sent at his direction, mostly just some cassual glances as if to check what he's up to or where he is. He won't lie, he kinda missed the attention he used to recieve, but this calmer and passive (Y/N) wasn't too bad neither, it kinda made him feel more normal and welcomed actually.

But soon he began to notice that maybe this sudden passivity didn't start out of nowhere, and the reason would be uncovered pretty soon...

. . .

A light groan escaped through (Y/N)'s lips as they make their way towards the kitchen after putting their little sister to sleep. While walking, they've been holding their bandaged hand close to their chest, an instinctive attempt to soothe the throbbing pain that only increased over the days. They're pretty sure their awful sleeping also played a huge part of why the pain is so unbearable. The countless nights they've spent guarding the door of (S/N)'s room and staying on high alert durning most of the day over the past week really drained them, both phisically and mentally. Leaving just enough energy to breathe and maintain a positive actitude around their sister.

They let a sight of relief once they stopped in front of a counter that had all the medicines in. The older sibling reaches for the container of painkillers only for it to be suddenly snatched away right under their nose.

Already knowing who did that, they slowly turn towards the responsible of it, tiredly glaring at that stupid emotionless masked face they hated with burning passion.

The two of them remained still, observing each other in silence. Michael didn't even tilt his head, meaning that he wasn't wondering or asking, no... He wanted to know what they're doing and he wanted to know it now.

—"...What?"— you eventually blurt out.

No answer or movement.

—"I'm not going to kill myself, I just need some medicine because my wrist hurts..."— you elaborate tiredly. —"Can you give in back, please?"—

Still nothing.

The container was actually at a reachable distance. If (Y/N) really wanted they could probably snatch it back. But of course they're not stupid to attempt that, Michael is a very deceiving specimen and things are never as simple as they look when it comes to him and his shenanigans, (Y/N) learned that the hard way.

—"Look. I'm. In. Pain. I need this because I no longer can handle it. Please, give me back the container."—

Nothing.

They grit their teeth out of anger and frustration. Is this bastard mocking them now? Silently enjoying their suffering? Or he's genuinely oblivious of their clearly not okay state?

—"You did this to me, remember?"— you snap as you lift your bandaged hand to show it. —"You broke my wrist, it's been hurting for days and right now it's freaking unbearable. So please, just give me the painki-"—

Their heart nearly stopped when their injured wrist was suddenly grabbed by the masked man. All (Y/N) could do now is stay frozen and helplessly stare at the black eye sockets of the rubber mask, which were staring right back at their shocked expression. They didn't even notice their hands became shaky, anxiety slowly flooding their mind as they suddenly remember who is the man in front of them.

Michael Myers, the man who escaped Smith's Grove by killing with his bare hands anyone who stayed on his way, the man who scarred his own little sister for life by kidnapping her and killing everyone dear to her just because, the man that somehow escaped death and kept his reign of terror for an entire year without anyone being able to do anything... This man, this monster did horrible things, things that he can do to them whever he wants, and he may do it right now as punishment for their boldness and lack of self preservation.

(Y/N) doesn't even know what face they're making, their emotions are too unstable. The stress, frustration and exhaustion are way too much to handle right now. They can't even use the energy to mantain a stone face, not when they're trying to keep themselves from breaking down on the floor and scream out of the frustration.

They just want it to stop. They want him to go away and leave them and their sister alone. They want to stop feeling worry every second of their existence, to stop these anxiety spikes whenever the blade of his knife runs through their body as he teases them, to stop feeling fear whenever his dark gaze moves away from them and is casted on their little sister, to stop feeling guilt that creeps through them whenever they see sadness appear on the little girl's face when she catches them being upset, they wish they could make her smile again, please, make her real smile return...

They... They just want to stop feeling in danger... Feeling hopeless... Feeling like they failed...

Please...

Please... Make it all stop.

Whatever look they had, it was enough to make Michael suddenly let go of their arm. However, instead of walking away or stand still, he steps forward and closer to them, body langage unreadable as always.

(Y/N) doesn't move, they don't even look at him at this point. They simply let their arms fall limply on their sides and lower their gaze, not even noticing the hot tears sliding down their face.

They're so tired, they're done.

Their breath hitched when their body made contact with Michael's larger and warmer one, following comes the sensation of something equally solid and warm wrapping around their form in a firm grip.

The embrace was tight, maybe even tighter that the one from the night he broke in. It was hard to breathe, though (Y/N) is unsure if it's due Michael's strength or their own choked sobs they could no longer hold back. This gesture, though simple, broke them completely...

The more they quietly cried, the tighter the embrace got, as if the man was really trying to force them to spit all the angst out, and maybe he was. It's no secret that Michael has no knowlege about comfort, it's something he lacked most of his life after all. But now, right after seeing their gaze change, everything inside of him is yelling to grab (Y/N) and never let go. Their gaze... Oh, he knows that look.

That look on their eyes... It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't even hate. It was something dull, dull and lifeless, almost pleading for him to...

He presses his masked face against them. The only thought of having their blood on him makes him feel weird. Seeing (Y/N), who's usually composed, strong willed and straight up wild when it comes to the safety of their sister, so weak and broken in his arms, made the man feel very odd, a nasty and unpleasant type of odd.

—"...You."—

They grumble through gritted teeth as they press their forhead against his shoulder, as if really trying to hide their face.

—"I hate you..."—

He can feel (Y/N)'s fist collide with his back. Though the impact wasn't weak at all, it wasn't enough to make Michael let go, all the opposite, he only brought them closer.

—"I hate you."—

They repeat a bit lounder, tone cold yet broken.

—"Why do you still tormenting me? Why?... Why don't you just... J-Just..."—

Their voice breaks at the end of the sentence and is replaced by more cries. The punches soon ceased too, their hand slowly sliding off Michael's back. Soon their sobs began to quiet down and turn into ragged uneven breaths. They are mad, at themselves, at this man, at the world, at fucking everything!... But what pisses them off the most is that this bastard, the main responsible of their mysery, the devil everyone knows for the atrocities he commited, he's... He's somehow comforting them... Genuinely comforting them...

—"Why are you doing this?..."—

Silence.

—"Why are you making it look like you care?..."—

Because he does.

—"Why?... Why?"—

They kept repeating the same question over and over despite knowing that they will never get an answer. And to be fair, even if Michael could answer, he wouldn't. He doesn't know himself what he's doing or where this attachment came from or leads to, all he knows is that he desires to have (Y/N) close, hold into them like a predator into it's pray and never ever let go. But even with this unholy obsession, he can't deny the strange sense of comfort and completion (Y/N) brings him just by being around. Ever since (S/N) questioned him about his intentions and the strange attachment with the older sibling, he couldn't unsee or deny the way they make him feel. And even when they say they hate him, glare at him, try to hurt him... Even after all these unwelcoming actions, he just can't stop himself from wanting them around, from wanting them...

The two remain like this for a long time, even after (Y/N) stopped talking and crying they didn't move.

(Y/N) was a mess, both emotionally and mentally, yet they couldn't deny the fact of feeling a tiny bit better after letting it all out. Michael's grip on them remained tight, strong like steel, impossible to escape. It was like a cage... But a very needed cage.

No matter how much they try to deny it, deep down (Y/N) knows that they needed this, they needed someone to hold them tight as they spit all their concerns, pain and frustrations out. But that means nothing, that doesn't change the way they view Michael. Though his gesture is laudable, how do they know it's genuine? How do they know he's not taking advantage of them? Could this be his attempt to deceive them? Make them emotionaly dependent? And for what?... For what?!

What does he want from them for fuck's sake?!

They take one last deep breath, shuting down the swarm of thoughts and questions and finally calming down enough to speak properly.

—"Alright... I'm better, a bit better."—

But Michael made no movements, his grip remained strong.

They sigh again, a bit more annoyed.

—"Michael, really. I'm okay now. I-"—

They tried to lift their hands up to push themselves away, but a sudden yelp came out when they moved their injured wrist too harshly, making them recoil and Michael to finally let go.

—"Okay-... I'm not okay."— you grumble as you hold your bandaged wrist closely, trying to soothe the throbing pain.

When the ache somehow stabilized and (Y/N) looked up at Michael again, they were surprised to see him holding their car keys right in front of their face. They stare at the item a bit dumbfounded, questioning where the hell he wants them to go, until it eventually clicks.

They know what he wants them to do, and this is a golden oportunity to recieve propper help to their injury. But the anxiety and guilt of leaving their little sister alone, again, at night and with this man, is already eating them alive.

A couple of seconds of inactivity pass, and though (Y/N) was taking quite some time to decide, Michael remained stoic as a statue, patiently waiting for them to decide.

—"I..."— you sigh again, but with more determination. —"Nevermind. You're right, I need to go."—

They dry off the remaining tears on their face with a single rough wipe with their forearm. They have to quit crying, they embarassed themselves enough by having a meltdown in front of this bastart, which apparently was so bad and pity that he had to comfort them. Beside, they must stay strong, not just for their own sake but also for (S/N).

They reach for the key, but don't take it right away.

—"The terms are the same i suppose. I stay quiet about you and you don't disturb my sister, yes?"—

There is no movements from the man. Despite not seeing his eyes, (Y/N) had a gut feeling that he understood and accepted the deal. They mutter a quiet 'okay' before eventually taking the keys, without any issue suprisingly. Once all was settled, the older sibling steps aside but doesn't go towards the front door right away, instead they walk towards the stairs.

—"I'll make a quick check on (S/N) before I go, okay?"— you quickly explain before going up, not bothering to see if he did anything in response or not.

Suprisingly, Michael doesn't follow them, not this time. He remained at the bottom with his head turned towards the staircase.

To some the attention and worry (Y/N) shows for their little sister may seem overwhelming, but for Michael it is something to admire. They always place the little one in front of their own needs and safety, always checking on her and making sure she's safe and happy. Even after he came into their life, he saw the ammount of effort (Y/N) had always put into mantaining (S/N) away from him, to keep her hopes strong and always mantain that happy smile despite knowing it will dissappear as soon as he comes near...

(Y/N) is a good sibling, a very good and caring sibling. Is that how Judith could've been with him if given a chance? Would she ever made the same effort to treat him the way (Y/N) treats their little one? Would he be able to be as good to Angel? Was it too much to ask for her to remember him, to know who he is, to know her big brother was back home and be together as family ones again? Was it really so much to ask?...

"I wanna help you..."

"...But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you... But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you, but I don't..."

"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

Something inside of his chest squeezed uncomfortably, painfuly almost. He still remember these words and the way 'boo' screamed at him and the hate in her voice. It hurts, it hurts so much every time he remembers... He doesn't like the pain, it upsets him. Just why couldn't she recognize him?... What should he have done for that night to turn out different?...

The sound of footsteps softly going down the stair broke his train of thoughts.

—"Good news, (S/N) is still asleep. Doubt she will wake up until sunrise but I wouldn't go upstairs anyways, that girl sure wakes up from the randomest noises."— you comment quite casually.

However, they suddenly stop in their tracks when they reached the bottom and noticed that Michael wasn't following them with his gaze. A tiny detail that threw them off quite a lot.

—"...Are you alright?"—

The question made the tall man pause and realize that his hands were tightly clutched into fists. He slowly relaxes them, though an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth and the general tension in his body remained.

Despite not having a clear answer, (Y/N) gives him a somehow knowledgeable look.

—"Remembered something bad?"—

He stays unresponsive for a moment, until he moves his head, giving a slow and barely noticible nod.

(Y/N) of course got a tag surprised, since it's the very first time Michael actually does something to answer them instead of staring blankly and let them figure out the message on their own. They don't focus on the sudden gesture though, instead they let out a small hum as they nod as well.

—"It happens... I too remember things I don't want to, a pretty nasty feeling gotta say."—

No answer.

(Y/N) seemed like they wanted to say more things, they decided against it and instead resumed their walk towards the front door. They stop to put some shoes and jacket, not minding too much the fact of them wearing pijamas. But before exiting, they look back at Michael's tall figure staring at them from the darkness, his pale masked face being the only visible feature.

—"I'll do my best to return before dawn, but no promisses."—

No reaction from the man, as expected.

They turn around and open the front door and pause again.

—"...Thank you, Michael."—

And after these words, they finaly step outside and softly close the door.

The masked man only tilted his head at this last sentence. Though these were three very simple words, he couldn't ignore how they affected him.

And the tension and ache from his memories were now completely gone, as if these bad feelings never came in the first place...

. . .

After a long wait and a ton of scolding from the doctors for neglecting their sleep and health, (Y/N) was finally driving back home. Luckly their wrist is healing fine, the sourse of the pain were the bad placement of the bandages and the overuse of their injured hand. Though they don't remember all the details, it seems like they'll be okay.

It was already dawn and the sun was slowly raising. However, they weren't too concerned, it was still early and there is no way (S/N) is awake, that girl sure enjoys lazy mornings after all.

And even after arriving home everything seemed in order, no weird vibes coming out the building and no funny feelings in their gut.

But the second they enter and close the front door...

—"(Y/N)!"—

A happy joyful voice exclaimed their name before something small launched at them into a hug with enough force to knock out some oxygen out of them. Nevertheless, the older sibling miraculously manages to mantain the footing and catch the little girl in a hug.

—"(S/N)?! How long you've been awake?!"— you ask in surprise and concern.

—"Oh... Uh..."— she thinks while poking her cheek with her finger. —"I think the little arrow on the clock was pointing at the number 5."— she innocently replies.

—"You've been awake since 5 of the morning?!"—you almost exclaim as you kneel down and take her hands. —"Are you okay? Were you scared? Did you know I was at the hospital? Did Michael do anything to you?"—

As an answer to their waterfall of question, the little girl childishly giggles.

—"It was all okay! But... I did get a tiny bit scared when I woke up and you weren't in the house, I though my nightmate of you dissappearing became true!... But then I saw Michael, and he explained that you went to see a doctor!"—

—"Michael... Explained?"— you arch your brow.

As soon as that question left their mouth, the tall man appeared at the entrance of the living room with a small toy ambulance in his hand.

—"Oh..."— you blink as you stare at the small item. —"I... I guess that makes sense how he did it."— you momentarily relax, but suddenly tense up again as you redirect your gaze to your sister. —"But seriously are you okay? Were you out your room this whole time?"—

The little girl shrinks in her place a bit flustered and embarrassed.

—"Well... I know you said last time not to exit my room when I had to stay with Michael, I swear I tried to follow your request! But..."— she bites her lip as she shrinks more. —"Please don't be mad, but I was just too scared to stay up there. You never left at night before! And... And when mom and dad left it was night too and-... And-..."— she starts hiccuping a bit by the end.

The little girl is interrupted when her sibling suddenly hugs her, holding her in a tight, secure and loving embrace.

—"Oh songbird, no... I'm so sorry if I came harsh on you, there is no way I can be mad at you for feeling scared for me."— you say as you place your head over hers. —"The first time I left, I was scared too... I was scared that when I come back you wouldn't be here..."—

A small gasp escaped the little girl and she quickly leans back to face her sibling.

—"You have nightmares of me disappearing too?!"— she asks quite surprised.

—"Yeah, I do."— you reply softly. —"Ever since I managed to convince the old ugly people to let me keep you, I sometimes have nightmares where they take you away."—

(S/N) frowns a bit, her childish mind not expecting that her usually super brave and calm sibling had such fears and concerns.

—"So please, don't feel bad, okay? Let's just be happy and celebrate that I made it home safely and you didn't disappear, yes?"—

—"Yeah... Yeah you're right!"— she exclaims, her happy-go-lucky tone returning. —"And Michael actually wasn't that bad! Though I wasn't in my room we still did our own things! Like, I presented him my toy dinosaurs while he stayed in thaaaaat corner over there and listened."—

—"Uh-huh..."— you mutter quietly as you glance at the tall man, who only tilted his head.

Man, if what the little girl is saying is true, then (Y/N) definetely owes Myers a medal for handling their sister's speech. Don't get them wrong, they love (S/N) to death and absolutely adore when she shares her interests and stories she invented about her toys or for their 'owl siblings' series! But sometimes she may get a bit too engaged with it.

Wait... Could that mean that Michael is being genuine with-.

—"And so... (Y/N)."—

(S/N) voice calling them snapped the older sibling back to reality.

—"About the 'celebrate' thingy..."— she says, suddenly shy.

—"You want me to make a cake, aren't you?"— you throw her an unimpressed look.

—"Yes!"— she giggles as she plays with her fingers. —"The cherry one, pretty please?"—

(Y/N) only rolls their eyes with a smile as they stand up and start taking off their jacket and shoes.

—"I guess I could make us a cake, remember the ingredients we need?"—

The little girl practically ignites in joy.

—"Yes! Yes I remember! Let me see if we have the all!"— she hurriedly says the last part before running into the kitchen.

The older sibling only chuckled as they finish undressing. They start going towards the kitchen but stopped right at the entrance, eyes already placed on the tall man.

—"Have you ever tried a cherry chip cake?"— you suddenly ask after a short pause.

The man slowly tilts his head to the other side.

—"I'll take it as a no. I'll make enough for you to have some too."— you pause. —"Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I trust you or enjoy having you around, but... I definetely owe it to you, for keeping an eye on (S/N) and such, and... And for what you did tonight."— you throw him a tiny smile before walking into the kitchen.

Michael didn't follow, not yet. His mind kept repeating that last image of (Y/N) over and over, from their suprisingly calm voice to the soft look in their eyes. But what would make his breath shake was the smile. It wasn't fake, it wasn't nervous, it wasn't out of politeness... It was a genuine, small yet sencere, dedicated to him and him only smile.

He lowers his gaze and places his hand on his chest, gripping the fabric of his coverals tightly.

It's hard to describe what exactly this set of emotions is, it all feels new. All he knows is that he suddenly feels warmth, a very soft and pleasant type of warmth...

It feels very familiar... Yet so distant and forgoten... As if he haven't experience these emotions for a long, long time...

...

...Happy.

He feels happy.

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #gn reader #slasher x reader

141 notes · View notes

eddiemunsons80sbaby · 4 months

Text

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 21

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 01/17

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

You stood on the sidewalk, your body frozen to the core even as the warm rays of sunshine beat down on you, watching as Eddie climbed into his van and drove off, leaving you there with Steve and Robin. No one spoke. The air hung thick around the three of you with the horrid thing you'd just witnessed, with the potential of what it could all mean.

“Shit, I have to call this in,” muttered Steve. “Look, just…” He glanced down at Andy who lay still on the pavement, knocked out cold, but his chest rose and fell steadily. “At least he’s still alive. That’s something at least. Fuck! Just, you two stay here with him. Make sure he doesn’t, I don’t know, choke on his own blood and die or something. That would make this all even more complicated. I’m gonna call into the station.”

His words flowed through your ears but your brain barely registered them as you continued to stare at the place where Eddie’s van had been just moments before. The look on his face, the self-hatred that was etched so deeply into every line. His eyes, the lack of hope, an emptiness within them that just couldn’t be filled. He’d looked exhausted, weary, his body broken down by a lifetime of sadness and pain. The sag of his shoulders, disappointment and fear that he was exactly the monster this whole town had painted him out to be.

“Hey!” yelled Steve, large hands wrapping around your shoulders, shaking you gently. “Hey! Are you hearing me?”

You nodded, blinking slowly, struggling to focus on his face. You couldn’t believe what you'd just witnessed. What had you witnessed? A man who’d been pushed to his breaking point. A man who had been tormented his entire life by a town that refused to allow him to be anything but the monster they’d decided he was. And Eddie had finally unleashed that very beast on the person who’d probably deserved it the most. Years of anger simmering inside of him until it had boiled over, a storm of havoc and chaos that was out of his control. Eddie had been a force of nature as he’d lashed out, a force that could neither be controlled or contained.

“Hey, look, it’s okay,” soothed Steve, hands running up and down your arms, making you aware that you were shaking. “I know that was scary but I swear that’s not who Eddie is. Andy’s had this coming for a long time with the way he runs his mouth. If it wouldn’t have been Eddie, it would have been someone else eventually. Jesus Christ. This is…look, are you going to be okay? I need to call.”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m good,” you told him, nodding.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Steve walked back into Benny’s and you looked over to find Robin standing as still as a statue, staring down at Andy. Shaking yourself from your own shock, you made your way to your friend, grabbing onto her shoulders, turning her body around, away from Andy and toward you. Robin’s eyes were wide, tears hanging onto her lower lash line and you pulled her into a hug, crushing her against you, whether to comfort Robin or yourself you weren't even sure.

“This is so bad. This is so bad,” groaned Robin, fingers digging into your shoulder blades. “Andy’s an asshole who had it coming but the town won’t see it that way. They’re going to come with their pitchforks and torches again. Hunt the freak. Eddie’s gonna go to jail for this. There’s no way Andy won’t press assault charges. Everyone’s just been waiting for this moment. They’ll say he’s finally getting what he deserves and after everything he’s been through…surviving the demobats and the Upside Down and fucking Henry slash Vecna slash One, all for it to end like this! It can’t end like this! He’s a good person! We’d all be dead if it weren’t for him and his guitar!”

Robin’s words whirled through your already muddled brain in a chaotic swirl. Demobats? Upside Down? Vecna? His guitar? You couldn’t string a coherent sentence together right now, let alone try to piece together the nonsense that Robin was rambling in her anxious agitation. The one thing that sliced through the muddy waters of your thoughts was Eddie going to jail.

“No. That’s not going to happen,” you assured, not certain who you were trying to convince more. “Steve is a cop. He’ll sort this all out and we all saw what happened. Andy started it. Eddie was just defending himself.”

“Eddie doesn’t look like that,” wailed Robin, pointing down to the unconscious man who was just beginning to stir, the one eyelid that wasn’t swelled shut fluttering. “Nobody’s gonna believe us. You don’t know what it’s like. This whole town thinks we all lied for him the first time around. Our word won’t mean shit.”

“We’ll make it mean something. I wasn’t here the first time around. I’m new to this town, remember? What reason would I have to lie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re fucking him!” shrieked Robin. “Don’t you think that’s the first thing Andy’s going to say? He accused you of defending Charlie because of it. He’ll say you’re lying to help out your boyfriend. Your word won’t mean anything more than ours.”

“Alright. I called Hopper and he’s on his way,” Steve said, sharing a knowing look with Robin. “You know he’s going to be the most fair to Eddie in this particular situation.”

“Hopper? He’s the one who disappeared after the mall fire, right? The one who proved Eddie was innocent of all those murders?” you asked, hope blooming in your chest because maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be as bad as it looked.

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s had Eddie’s back for a long time. Used to give him shit when he was younger. Hop had picked up the elder Munson a few times but he’s always had a soft spot for Eddie. He knows just how good of a guy he is. He’ll do whatever he can.”

Robin nodded, teeth worrying at her lower lip until a small fleck of red appeared, the skin cracking under the force of her worry, “Hop will know what to do. He’ll fix this, right? Hop always knows how to fix everything.”

“I’m sure he’ll try,” Steve told her, arm coming around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. “If anyone can figure this shit out, it’s Hopper. After he comes and I talk to him, I can give you a ride home, Sam. I’m sure you’d like to get as far away from this as possible.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. Away from this? No, you didn’t want to be away from this. Eddie was in trouble. There was nowhere else you wanted to be but right in the middle of this, figuring out a way to help him.

“No. I don’t want to go home. I want to help.”

Steve looked disbelieving as he said, “You do? You’re not…I mean, you’re not freaking out right now? Not rethinking dating Munson after what you just saw?”

“No,” you stated simply. And maybe you should be. You'd seen a man so full of rage that he had come completely undone. But you weren't scared of Eddie. You hadn’t been scared of him when he’d whacked you in the middle of a nightmare, you hadn’t been scared of him when he panicked during the storm, and you weren't scared of him now. Maybe he’d beaten a man in front of you but that man had beaten many others and Eddie’s rage came from a place of pain and he would never direct that pain at you. You didn’t know how you could be so certain of that but you were. “I…I care about him…a lot. I’m not going anywhere. What he did doesn’t scare me. What he might be doing now does. What might happen to him because of it does but I’m not scared of Eddie and I’m not getting chased away.”

Robin smiled, tilting her face up to Steve’s, “See? I told you. She’s tough, fits right into our group. She wouldn’t run away if she knew everything, Steve.”

“Robin, don’t start right now. This is not the time.”

“But I’m just saying, if she’s going to be with Eddie, dealing with all of this, doesn’t she have the right to know everything? Doesn’t she have the right to know why so she can understand?”

Steve rolled his eyes as you watched the two bicker over you. Hope bloomed in your chest as you realized that Robin had been arguing for you to be told the truth. There was a sliver of possibility that you might finally get to know what in the hell had happened here, what haunted Eddie night after night, what was destroying his soul one fragment at a time. Armed with that information, you might stand a chance at finding a way to help him put those demons to rest.

“You know what Nancy said,” he warned.

“And who decided Nancy is in charge?”

“You did!”

Robin paused, “I made that shit up. I just said that because she always takes the reins. Nancy is a badass. She’s the person you want in a crisis but she doesn’t get to make decisions for all of us. I thought we should have told her weeks ago and now, with this, she deserves to know why her boyfriend just beat some guy to a bloody pulp.”

“Robin, we don’t get to make that decision alone and Eddie…look, I don’t know what he wants her to know.”

“You know I’m standing right here,” you reminded them, annoyance flooding you at how they discussed whether to trust you or not as if you were just a painting on the wall.

“I know. Look, I know…” Steve paused, his body sagging with relief as a Chevy Blazer came into view, followed by an ambulance, pulling into the lot of the restaurant. “Hopper’s here.”

A large man stepped out of the Blazer, broad shoulders and a strong build. As he strode across the lot, he adjusted his hat, coming to a stop right in front of the three of them as the paramedics made their way over to Andy, bags slung over their shoulders. There was an intensity about him, letting you know that this was not a man to mess with but also a softness around his eyes that instantly put you at ease. This was clearly a man that you wanted to call when shit hit the fan.

“Alright, Harrington, what the hell happened here?” Hopper asked.

“We were all just trying to enjoy our lunch when Andy showed up and started running his mouth. It was his usual shit, accusing Eddie of murder, being nasty as hell.”

“Okay and how did that become his face turned into ground beef?”

“He put his hands on Y/N,” Robin told him.

“And who’s Y/N?”

“Uh, that would be me,” you answered meekly, stepping forward and raising your hand.

“Ahh, okay. You’re the new girl, right?” asked Hopper.

“Yeah. Fairly new, anyway.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry it had to be under these circumstances. So, did Mr. Johnson hurt you?”

“No. He, uh…he grabbed onto my shirt. He was making some lewd comments about…well, about how if I was willing to climb into the gutter for Eddie and give it up so easily then maybe he should…you know. Anyway, Eddie shoved him off of me. He just kept going, goading Eddie. He talked about his mom…”

“Son of a bitch,” hissed Hopper, fingers pressing between his eyes as if relieving a pain that had suddenly appeared there. “Alright, so who swung first?”

“Technically Eddie did, but Hop, you know Andy,” Steve argued. “He threatened her job. He implied sexual assault on her. And when he said she was a whore and that’s why Eddie liked her, because she was just like his mom, Eddie swung. It was a fight, Chief.”

“So, does Munson look like that?” Hopper gestured to where the paramedics were bandaging up Andy who was beginning to come around, slowly sitting up, eyes unfocused.

“Not exactly but he got hurt too!” Robin shrieked. “Hop, you have to help him. Eddie can’t go to jail. You know what that will do to him. His whole life people have told him it was inevitable that he would wind up just like his dad. Don’t let that happen to him. He just…he just lost it and can you blame him after everything this town has done to him?”

“I’m not saying I blame him, Robin, but he attacked a man. I know Andy’s a grade A asshole better than just about anybody. The amount of time I’ve tried to convince his wife to press charges…” He sighed, those fingers now pressing into his forehead. “But it doesn’t matter what he said. Eddie swung first. Look, I’m going to have to pick him up and bring him in.” When all three of them started to protest, he held his hands up. “Listen! I don’t have a choice here. Harrington, you know that. Just until we can get to the bottom of this and I can figure out a way to get Munson out of another goddamn mess. Jesus Christ. I thought maybe, just maybe, we were finally able to have some peace. You kids are the reason I’m losing all my hair.”

“Come on, Hop. That hairline has been receding since before Will vanished and I don’t think thirty year olds count as kids,” Steve grumbled.

“It does when you idiots are always managing to find trouble. I swear to god. I thought we were done with all this shit.”

“We are!” Robin said. “We were. Andy was the one who decided to start stuff, not us. Eddie only went after him because of the way he was talking about Y/N.”

“You Munson’s girl or something?” asked Hopper.

“Or something, I guess,” you shrugged. “I mean, we’re together, yeah. Chief, if you’re picking him up, is there any way I can be there with him?”

“Not while we’re questioning him, kiddo, but you’re welcome to come down to the station and wait for him.”

“That freak is going to prison for the rest of his life!” Andy yelled from behind them, all four heads spinning to find him, spit flying out of his mouth, swatting at the poor paramedic who was trying to clean his split lip. “I told you, Hopper, this whole damn town told you that he was a psycho who needed to be locked up but you didn’t listen! And now look! He attacked me for no goddamn reason!”

“Now, that’s a damn lie. I saw you grabbing that girl over there. Think you’re some invincible force because your wife takes it quietly,” Larry argued, the door of the diner opening with a jingle. “You’re lucky you can still talk because I would have broken your damn jaw if you’d touched my girl like that. Running off at the mouth gets you into trouble, boy, or didn’t your daddy ever teach you that?”

“Larry,” warned Hopper, “stay out of this.”

“Chief, I’m not gonna watch Munson get taken away in cuffs because he finally gave this asshole what’s been coming to him for years. Eddie just had the guts to do what no one else in this town has.”

“I’ll handle it, Larry. Just go flip some burgers, alright? Come by the station when you can and give your statement there.” Hopper leaned into one of the harassed looking paramedics. “So, what are the extent of the injuries?”

“Broken nose, bruised ribs but nothing seems broken, split lip, some bumps and bruises. I mean, his face ain’t pretty but he’ll live. I gotta say, Chief, I don’t blame the guy who did this. I kind of want to punch him myself. Guy’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he muttered.

“I’m pressing charges! Munson won’t see the light of day again! And I will have that little bitch’s job!” Andy roared. “You just watch!”

“Oh shut it, already, Johnson,” snapped Hopper. “Are you forgetting you ain’t nothing special in this town? Nobody gives a shit about you. The only reason you were anything was because you buddied up with Carver. His family had the power in this town. So stop talking out your ass about what you’re gonna do.” He turned, pointing at Steve. “Harrington, take these girls home and meet me at the station. I’m gonna swing by and get Munson. No cuffs, just a friendly ride.”

Steve nodded, keys jingling as he pulled them from his pocket, “Come on. Why don’t I drop you both off?”

“You’re not dropping me anywhere. I’m coming to the station with you,” you told him, braced to fight him on it if you had to. There was no way you were sitting at home, waiting to hear something. “I have to be there for him, Steve. He has to see that it's okay. He has to see that I’m not scared of him.”

Eddie’s words rang back in your ears, telling you that dating him was a bad idea. That if you were smart you would run away. There was nowhere you were running unless it was straight to him. He had to know that you weren't scared, that you weren't going to bail like so many others had, that you had his back and you understood why he’d done what he’d done.

“Listen, I don’t know if he’s going to want you…”

“I don’t care!” you shouted, tossing your hands up. “I don’t care, okay? He’s not shutting me out. He’s not chasing me away. I have to be there because it matters and because he’s everything to me and because I love him!”

Robin resembled an owl as her eyes widened, mouth dropping open for a second before curving into a smile, “Oh my god. You love him?”

“I…well…I…”

You loved Eddie? You loved Eddie. The words you'd just said crashed down over you, crushing you under the acknowledgement of them, the thing you'd been trying to ignore. The feelings you'd been keeping tucked down in a box, knowing it was insane, knowing it was too soon. You didn’t want to scare him away and what scared a guy faster than some girl rushing to say those three words?

It was crazy, right? You couldn’t possibly love someone after only a few weeks. It was just the serotonin rushing to your brain, eliciting feelings of love, fooling you into thinking your attraction had turned to love. That’s what it had to be because falling for someone so quickly, that kind of shit only happened in the movies.

But it wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t. Your intense desire to make everything better for him, the way you missed him when he wasn’t around, the pull of your heart every single time you saw his face or heard his voice. It wasn’t a trick. It wasn’t fake. It was real, probably the most real thing you'd ever had in your life. Maybe it had been fast but it was true, you were in love with Eddie.

“I think I do,” you whispered, shocked at your own admission, staring at your open palms as if they held the answers.

“Well shit,” Steve laughed. “Okay then. Come on. Let’s get down to the station and get Eddie out of trouble.”

____________________________________________________________

Your leg bounced up and down nervously as you sat in the small police station, waiting for Chief Hopper to arrive with Eddie. Steve had gotten you a coffee but it sat on the desk next to you, long forgotten, probably ice cold. Your stomach couldn’t handle much of anything right now, twisted into knots so tight that it physically ached.

“It’s going to be alright,” Steve told both you and Robin. “I’m telling you, Hopper will figure it all out. I bet Eddie will be walking out of here tonight.”

You wished you could be as certain of that fact. What was taking so long? Had Eddie run? Was he hiding somewhere, terrified, flashing back to the last time he had to hide from the law? Had he put up a fight when Hopper showed up, refusing to be arrested? Oh god, you hoped not. You hoped he didn’t do anything to make this worse but you'd seen his face. It was not the face of a man capable of rational thought. Who knew what he’d be willing to do right now?

The door swung open, your head snapping up as Eddie walked in, closely followed by Hopper. His eyes met yours and quickly lowered to the ground, those tortured pools now hidden from you. You were relieved to see he wasn’t cuffed but in the quick flash you'd had of his face, he was hurt. His eye was turning purple, lip split wide open and crusted over with blood, a bruise blooming along his jaw.

You leapt up from your seat and to him but just as your hand gently touched his face, he pulled his head from you. You took a step back, both confused and hurt by his dismissal. All you wanted to do was make this okay. You were desperate to fix this, to make it all disappear, to take him home with you and clean his wounds, apply ice to his bruises, to take care of him, play nurse like you'd promised to do the night they all went skating.

“Eddie?” you asked hesitantly.

“What is she doing here?” he growled, eyes focused on Steve as if you weren't even standing in the room, wasn’t right in front of his face. “I told you to take her home.”

“I know, man, but she refused. She wanted to be here for you, Eddie. We all do.”

“Eddie, it’s going to be okay,” you tried, ignoring the flashing warning signs in your brain, signs that were telling you that this was not going to end well. “They just want to talk to you. We told them what happened. I’ll be waiting out here to take you home, okay? We’ll get you all fixed up and…”

“No. Just go home, Prom Queen,” he stated, his voice hollow, wrong, the voice of a man who’s been defeated.

“No. I want to be here.”

“Well, I don’t want you here!” snapped Eddie, those eyes finally turning to you, burning with hatred, burning as bright as that fire the first night you met.

“I don’t believe that,” you choked out, each word wavering as you fought back the tears.

“Just don’t, okay?” he begged softly. “I told you I’m defective. I don’t want you to wait for me. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have been here for any of this. Just let Steve take you home.” With a roll of his eyes, followed by his head, he looked over at Hopper. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

“Alright, you know the drill.” Hopper gestured toward his office and Eddie stomped inside, not looking back once as Hopper followed him and shut the door behind them.

You stood stationary, staring at the door, those warning bells finally quieting inside your head, nothing left to warn about because the danger had already happened. He was shutting you out, not only slamming the door in your face but locking it as well, just like you feared he would. He’d told you that you shouldn’t be with him, told you he was defective, and now he believed it. He believed that he was the monster the whole town said he was.

“Damn it,” Steve huffed, thumb and finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I knew he was going to do this!”

“So did I,” you agreed, closing your eyes, tears that had been hanging onto your lash line for dear life slipping down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily with the back of your hand. “He told me. He told me we shouldn’t be together, that I should stay away from him, that he was broken and fucked up and he couldn’t be fixed.”

“But that’s not true!” Robin cried. “He’s not broken. He’s just bruised, maybe a little damaged, but he’s not beyond repair. Look, he’s just being a dingus right now, that’s all. He has to come around. He’d be an idiot to let you get away. I haven’t seen him this happy in so long. I mean, probably since he hotwired that motorhome.”

“He stole a motorhome?” you asked, the absurdity of that statement startling you from your self-pity party.

“Yeah, but he kind of had to. There were extenuating circumstances,” explained Robin. She sighed, hand waving erratically through the air. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that he is happy for the first time in a decade. I mean, truly happy. I haven’t seen him smile like that for so long. I’ve never seen him light up for anyone the way he does for you. We all knew you were something special with the way he started acting. He was being a dick to you to try to push you away because you scared him. Now, he’s pushing you away because he’s scared he’s not good enough for you. Don’t let him do that. I…I think he needs you.”

“If you want me to take you home, I will,” Steve told you. “But I think he’s being an idiot right now. He’s risking losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him because he can’t get his head out of his ass.”

You dropped into the hard vinyl chair, inhaling a resigned breath. Eddie told you he didn’t want you here. But if you left, you were only proving him right, showing him that you agreed with him and you didn’t. Because he was wrong. He wasn’t defective. He was hurting. He was human. But he was not a monster and whether he liked it or not, you were not moving from this chair until you knew what was happening in that office.

“What do you want to do?” Steve questioned.

“I’m not leaving,” you told him, both hands gripping the edge of the chair as if it could keep you from sinking, sinking down into the dark uncertainty that was what would happen next. “He is not getting rid of me that easily. He can push me away all he wants but I have every intention of pushing right back.”

Robin dropped down next to her with a smile, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder, “That’s my girl.” She looked up at Steve. “See? I’m telling you, she can handle it.”

“Maybe she can, but that’s a discussion for later. After we get through this shitshow,” he groaned, sliding down the wall until he hit the floor, knees tucked up against his chest. “Let’s just see what Hopper has to say because I’m sure Andy is giving everyone an earful at the hospital.”

“Did he need the hospital? Were his injuries that bad?” you asked, knowing a lot of Eddie’s fate rested on that very fact. How badly had he beaten Andy? If his injuries were extreme, getting him off without any time sitting in a cell could be a hell of a lot harder. Self defense didn’t mean beating someone nearly to death.

Steve shrugged, “I don’t know. Knowing him, he’s making it out to be worse than it is. The paramedics said his ribs were bruised but not broken. He had a laceration on his lip and under his eye, some bruising. But they wanted to take him in to make sure he didn’t have a concussion or some kind of brain injury.”

“Jesus Christ, let’s hope not,” you muttered, resting your head against the wall.

You sat for an hour waiting for Hopper’s office door to open. You were the only ones in the station besides a couple officers. Small towns like this didn’t usually get much action besides the occasional drunk and disorderly or teens getting up to some mischief. So there was absolutely nothing to occupy your time, to keep the three of you from contemplating all the possible ways this could go wrong.

Another office, Callahan, offered them stale donuts left over from the morning that they all declined. You never turned down a donut, stale or not, but your stomach rolled in objection the moment those sugary treats were in front of your face.

“Dating Munson, huh?” Callahan asked, a wry grin on his face, pink frosting clinging to his mustache. “Brave girl.”

“Excuse me?”

“You willingly placed a giant target on your back dating the town freak. Brave, like I said, but stupid.”

“What did you just say to me? Who in the hell do you think you are?” you challenged, jumping from your chair, finger pressing into the blue cotton of his uniform. “You don’t know me and you obviously don’t know Eddie. It takes a real fucking idiot to simply believe town gossip without actually finding out the truth for himself.”

“Now, listen here. You’re talking to an officer of the law!” he huffed, chest puffing wide as he tried to exert his power.

You laughed, “No. I’m talking to a small-minded townie who thinks he gets to say whatever the hell he wants because he wears a badge. What are you going to do? Throw me in a cell because you don’t like me calling you out for your shit?”

Callahan’s face went beet red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. A string of sounds that didn’t even closely resemble words came out of him as he struggled to find something to say back.

“You and this whole town can go to hell because that man is no freak. He’s better than all of you! He’s too good for this fucking town! He’s a good man who you all have dragged through the mud and treated like shit for far too long. It’s amazing he hasn’t already beat the shit out of someone because you all deserve it! How dare you look down your nose at him just because he doesn’t fit what you think a Hawkins resident should be. You have tormented him, dragged him down, and made him think he’s less than what he is. You all stood by and watched him get harassed and abused by the rich assholes in this place and did nothing about it! You condemned him without any evidence and you keep doing it and you’re all disgusting for it! You’re all nothing but a bunch of bullies!”

“Harrington, are you seriously going to let her talk to me like this?” Callahan sputtered, finally finding his voice.

Steve smirked, folding his arms, shrugging, “I mean, is she wrong? There has never been a single shred of evidence that Eddie did anything to any of those people. Hopper cleared his name. Yet, somehow, this town continues to treat him like a murderer. You don’t think I’ve heard the snide comments you’ve made about him? She's just the first one to have the balls to tell you what you are to your face. So, in answer to your question, yeah. I’m gonna let her talk to you however she wants.”

“What in the hell is going on out here?”

You all turned to find Hopper standing there, Eddie concealed behind his large frame. The police chief looked at each of you in turn, waiting for an explanation. Robin suddenly looked up at the ceiling while Steve picked up a file off of his desk, opening it and examining it like it was something vital he hadn’t just used as an out to answering Hopper’s question.

“Well?” the big guy demanded. “Why am I hearing yelling? I really don’t need another brawl on my hands tonight. I’ve got enough to deal with.”

“I was just informing your officer that he’s an ignorant asshole,” you answered.

Hopper’s face broke, an amused smile forming that he quickly hid again with annoyance. You leaned to the right, desperate to see Eddie, to see his expression, to try to gauge what he was feeling right now but Hopper concealed him completely. Your fingers wiggled at your sides, anxious to touch him, to soothe him, to take care of him. You just wanted Hopper to tell you that it was all taken care of and Eddie could go home with you.

“Chief, this young lady is being very belligerent with me. I think we should let her sit it out for twenty-four hours. She needs to learn how to respect a member of law enforcement.”

“Shut it, Callahan,” Hopper grumbled. “The one cell we’ve got already has an overnight guest for the night. Trust me, putting her in there would only make things pretty unbearable for us. Unless you want to spend the night listening to the noises these two would be making.” He looked Callahan up and down, his face scrunching in distaste. “Never mind. You probably would.”

“Wait, what?” you interjected. “What do you mean? You’re not seriously going to lock Eddie up?”

“No choice, I’m afraid. Mr. Johnson has decided to move forward with pressing charges. He’ll have to spend the rest of the weekend here until Monday when he can see the judge.”

“Chief, come on,” Steve urged. “You know he won’t run. Just let him go home and I’ll make sure he’s there Monday morning.”

“Now, you know that’s not how this works. Look, I don’t like this anymore than the rest of you but we have to follow protocol here. We’ve gotten your statements as well as statements from other diners and from Larry. We’ll present all of that to the judge and we’ll see how it plays out.” With a heavy sigh that sounded like it came from the man’s soul, he turned. “Callahan, show Mr. Munson to his room for the night please.”

Callahan stepped forward and you stepped in front of him, panic taking over your body. Logically, you knew you couldn’t stop any of this. It was going to happen but you couldn’t bring yourself to just stand by and watch them take Eddie to a cage.

“Ma’am, you’re going to need to take a step back,” Callahan told you shortly, clearly still aggravated over your earlier comments. “You cannot interfere with police matters.”

“I…but this…this is wrong! You know this is wrong! Andy is a bully. He beats his own wife. You even said so. He threatened me and grabbed onto me. Eddie was just trying to protect me! You can’t do this!”

“Sweetheart, stop.”

You turned at the sound of his voice, the only voice that could break through, could bring you back to sanity. Eddie stepped around Hopper and he looked so broken, like a small child, terrified but also, even more heartbreaking, he looked defeated. He looked as if he was accepting this fate, as if he knew this was where he would wind up all along and that scared you more than anything. Because if he wasn’t willing to fight, if he plead guilty, he could serve actual time and not in Hawkins jail, in a prison somewhere with real monsters.

“Eddie, this isn’t right,” you pleaded, choking on the tears that lodged in your throat, spilled from your eyes. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

“This is exactly where I belong. It’s where I was always going to end up. It was only a matter of time. Ask anybody in this fucking hellhole. Just go home. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Eddie, don’t say that,” Robin argued.

“Robs, I love you. You guys have stuck by me through everything and I could never express how much that means to be. You all saved me but you can’t save me this time. Come on, Callahan. Let’s get this over with. Take me to my new digs.”

“Eddie…” But your voice broke off, fear and heartache cutting off your airway, strangling you as you watched him led away by the officer.

No. This could not be happening. You'd just found him, this beautiful man who made you feel things you didn’t know were possible. You'd just realized how you loved him and he was giving up. He was just going to lay down and take it. He was going to let this town define him, allowing this town to finally tear away the last piece of his heart they hadn’t already destroyed. You couldn’t let that happen. That piece belonged to you.

“We have to do something!” you said frantically, looking from Steve to Robin to Hopper, willing one of them to have some magical answer. “We can’t let him do this. He’s just going to accept it. He can’t. He has to fight.”

“Give the kid the night, okay?” Hopper offered calmly. “Maybe a quiet night left to his own thoughts will give him some clarity. I’ll talk to him again tomorrow. There’s no need for him to throw in the towel. He didn’t kill Andy, just maimed him a little. I’m not saying he couldn’t serve some time for that but with all the statements we have, especially about him putting his hands on you, we still stand a chance at getting him out of this.”

“I can’t lose him. I can’t let this town finally destroy him,” you whispered, your entire world caving in around you, threatening to suck you into the darkness once again. But you wouldn’t let it. Eddie didn’t have time for you to disappear into the shadows.

“Hey.” Hopper stepped forward, both hands on your shoulders. “You’re not losing him. None of us are. I’ve fixed bigger problems than this, kiddo. I am not giving up. We’ll get him to see the truth but for now, everyone just needs to go home and get a good night’s sleep. I will fill you all in tomorrow after I’ve had a chat with him. Okay? But for now let’s just let him be for a little while. He’s had a hell of a day and so have all of you. Go home.”

Then Steve’s arm was around you, Robin’s hand in yours, leading you from the police station. You didn’t fight. You didn’t argue. Because there was no point. There was nothing you could do for Eddie right now. So, you left, leaving the man you loved sleeping alone in a jail cell.

Chapter 22

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Text

The Smell of Smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 3~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2 3 4

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch, slut, ), BULLY, NSFW, NON CON GANG BANG, multiple partners, SA. violence against reader, burning, drugged reader(pot edible), (is this angst?), choking

It sprays directly into his face.

“You’re gonna get it bitch!” He let’s go in favor of rubbing his eyes. “You’re not-AHG!-not even supposed to have shit like that on campus!”

Shit… You know he’s right. You really shouldn’t have. At least you’ve never been in trouble before. Maybe the headmaster will have mercy.

You laugh on your way down the stairs, thankfully you tumble slow enough to make it out at the bottom unscathed.

“Oh ho ho, what do we have here?” Ezra’s voice comes from behind and you freeze.

“E-Ezra!? s-sorry! I-I didn’t know she was—” The guy stumbled on his way down, still not able to see past burning tears.

“She’s not. Now get out.” Only two of his gang members are nearby, but the weight of his status would carry even if he was alone. “You,” He points to one of them, “make sure he doesn’t rat this bitch out.”

Before the guy’s backs are even out of veiw, Ezra’s hand is in your hair, pulling you up painfully to his hunched over, but still tall, level. You struggle to hold yourself up in effort to lessen the pain in your scalp.

“Looks like somebody just broke a huge rule and…” He stares into your eyes, “Are you high~? on campus~?”

The realization hits you hard. “You mean…”

“Ya better cooperate if ya don’t wanna get in trouble”

Tears prick at your eyes.

No…

At this point you already know not to defy him.

You nod your head yes.

“Good slut.” He throws you forward into a walk in front of him.

You think a of running, but your body feels so heavy and hot. The more you stumble the more Ezra pushes you, but he doesn’t seem angry. In fact, the worse you get, the happier he looks.

You start to giggle again, unaware of your sealed fate.

Your vision is hazy, everything feels like a dream.

Ezra almost completely misses the door, he’s too busy paying close attention to the haphazard swaying of your body.

He wraps an arm around your neck to pull you back a few steps, “Huh? Woah!” his skin feels so warm, you practically snuggle into him. Along with being so close to his body is the almost nostalgic scent that comes from him. It permeates your senses making you dizzy.

Ezra is taken completely back by you, watching you forget everything in that moment, as if you’re just an innocent little puppy in a field. For just a split second, he has a feeling he can’t quite explain or label. In the next, it’s gone.

He’s infuriated.

You are infuriating him.

And he’s going to make sure you suffer.

You’re still giggling at first, as your guts twist into knots trying to warn you of the danger you’re in.

“Be as rough as you want with this one,” He throws your disheveled form into the room with a dozen or so men.

Lewd heat spreads between your thighs.

The first couple of guys step forward and it sets in.

For some reason you look desperately to Ezra to save you. Even after everything he’s done to you, you search his face for any empathy at all.

You see nothing.

Your heart sinks, and your body shakes, as too many hands start to assault you.

Ezra lights a cigarette, and pulls out his phone, he’s unable to meet your big pleading puppy dog eyes with his own.

“E-Ezra…?” neither of you know why you call to him, begging him to please make them stop.

For it all to just be a joke this time maybe.

But he appears unbothered to you, and you quickly and quietly give up.

Silent sobs wrack you.

Before long and you’re stripped naked, the men have you on your knees, straddling one of them, with another behind you, one is in front of your and two on both sides.

Guiltily, there’s so much heat between your legs it’s practically unbearable, you resist the urge to move.

Disgusted by yourself and your situation, your mind reels… It takes you far, far away as the first dicks touch and rub and penetrate you.

They take everything from you.

Any peace you’ve felt, any hope you had, any dignity and happiness.

You are becoming a shell as a repulsive pleasure fills you.

They rub you and bite you, and suck on you as they pound into you. The way you bounce from one shoves you into the others, you reach for purchase only for your hands to be filled with more cocks.

Ezra finaly walks over to you but it’s to grab you roughly by your hair, he pulls his lighter back out in his other hand.

You try and shake your head no. No! No, Please! as he brings the heat closer to your skin.

He plays with the flame under your forearm. It feels like you might actually be catching on fire, it burns horrendously.

When you cry out, not even registering your own voice, another stranger’s dick stuffs your throat.

Before long everything hurts and the burning is becoming unbearable.

You aren’t sure where they all end and you begin.

You aren’t sure where you even are in this anymore.

Ezra’s smoke hangs in the air above you.

You smell it over all the sweat and musky bodies around you.

One of the men even finds your bulging throat and squeezes it.

You see thick stars fast.

Your body becomes too hot to bear any longer, and you shake with an overwhelming orgasm. Tears you hadn’t noticed thicken as they fall down your cheeks.

You feel sick as the men start to finish inside and all over you. They slowly pull out of your sopping holes, and you think for a second it’s over.

Then you realize they’re all just taking turns.

You open your mouth on your own this time, hoping if you just cooperate with them it will be over sooner.

Your hips start to move all on their own, in tune with them, and soon you’re all one.

Once they’re all spent, they throw you onto the ground. Some of them take your clothes on their way out.

You are left with nothing. physically and mentally.

Ezra turns back to glance over your abused and dirty body and stands still just long enough for you to notice.

He then flicks his burning cigarette butt at you and slams the door behind him.

You don’t know how long you even lay there, sticky, cold, and in agony.

You might have even passed out a couple of times, but you can’t even tell the difference between the two, until a thin stream of light comes through the doorway.

“D-don’t…” You weakly cry out, hoarsely and almost too quiet to hear.

They take you to the ER.

When you wake up, you scream.

Ezra is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, until he sees you stir and rushes over.

His hand slaps over your mouth to silence you.

“Shhhh! Are you fuckin’ done?”

You nod vigorously.

He slowly pulls away, and shoves his hand in his pocket.

He leans over you against the wall, “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon…” His eyes are trained on your shaking legs.

“Wh-what a-re you doing h-here?”

A guy with fluffy pink hair enters the room with a tray of food in his hands, and a frown on his face. “You still haf’ta eat—”

Both you and Ezra slowly and silently look over to him.

“Oh, hey! You’re awake” He looks down to the tray and back up to you. “I’ll go grab another one of these!”

… He shifts uncomfortably.

“A-are you gonna be okay?” He inspects your eyes from afar.

You glance at Ezra, who’s still leaning over you.

If he was going to hurt you he would.

“mhm,” you nod with a shrug.

He sighs in relief as he leaves the tray, and then walks out the door.

Clearing your throat you ask, “What are you doing here?” with more energy and confidence, managing to steel yourself. Though your voice is still hoarse.

“I… Don’t know.” he sounds unusually uncertain.

“You don’t know?”

“No! I said I don’t!” He turns away to knock a chair onto the floor. You jump and yip, and he spins back around, his eyes wider for a second. “Stop!” He steps closer again.

“Stop what!? You’re the one tormenting me!” You meet his volume.

“Just… Stop…! I don’t know!” He leans swiftly toward you causing you to jump, “Just… Shut up.” His voice is as cruel as his face, but his words are quiet. His eyes soft.

He grabs your chin and squeezes you between his finger and thumb, turning your face to his.

In the same moment he brings his lips to yours.

His scent fills you, along with a tingling warmth.

You’re too dumbfounded and dizzy to move “mm!” you moan quietly and high pitched without meaning to.

His hold on you becomes… Gentle.

He pets your head, and shushes you.

You didn’t notice you were crying.

The heels of your little fists come to your eyes as you begin to sob, he continues to lean over you, an arm against the wall.

Before he can let you finish crying on your own, the other man walks in again, a second tray in his grasp.

“Oh no! you’ll let the food get cold!” He rushes over to dote on you.

“I need’a smoke,” Ezra slowly stands, before leaving without glancing back.

133 notes · View notes

starlightsearches · 2 years

Note

Just saw your post for kinky prompts 👀 what do we think about hate-fucking Eddie 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Payback

Kinky Prompts

My friend, we think veeeeerrrry favorably about being hate-fucked by Eddie! Thank you for sending this in 💖 Requests are open; comments, likes and reblogs make me soooooooooooooooo happy!

Eddie Munson x Virgin! Femme! Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, PIV sex, protected sex, spanking, virginity kink (kind of), corruption kink (kind of), fingering (f), orgasm delay (f), clothed sex, crying during sex, a little tender for hate-fucking whoops but i contain multitudes, mentions of canon-typical violence, language, season 4 volume 1 spoilers!

"You know you don't have to babysit me, right?"

Eddie pops around the corner from one of the bedrooms, awake from his third nap of the day and scratching at his skin under the collar of his hellfire shirt. The movement puts the top of a tattoo on display, but you can't identify it from this angle, not without catching the black collar in your finger and pulling it down a few more inches.

You tear your eyes from him, glancing at the windows out of habit, letting out a sharp breath through your nose. The curtains are still closed—just like the last time you checked—but his shadow could still be visible to someone passing by.

"It was Nancy's idea. Will you sit the fuck down?"

Eddie rolls his big dumb eyes, plopping down on the floor beside you. He keeps his long legs bent, pale knees poking from the rips in his jeans.

"Well at least you're not cranky about being stuck with me, princess. Because that would make my exile totally unbearable."

You meet his eyes, catch his mocking smile, and shift an inch to the side.

"First off, don't call me princess. Second, you smell like shit. When's the last time you showered?"

He huffs, pretending to think, chin cupped in his hand. "Probably around the last time you slept. If those bags under your eyes get any bigger they're gonna need their own zip code."

You just flash him your middle finger, resting your head against the cupboard and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your eyes. It's not like you've been trying to stay awake, but stress could do that to you. Every time you closed your eyes, your brain went into overdrive—imagining the yawning horror you'd feel finding your friends' bodies with their arms bent at odd angles and their eyes gouged out.

Eddie nudges you with his knee just as a shiver travels through you, denim he wears brushing against your bare thigh, repeating the movement over and over again until you look at him. He ignores the glare you give him.

"Seriously though, how long have you been awake? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I can manage not to burn the house down for a couple of hours without your constant supervision."

"Right," you scoff, "and when Jason and his friends show up to beat your ass, you can annoy them to death."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

The sun's just starting to set beyond the windows—his cue to stand without you yelling at him again—and he does, navigating the darkening kitchen with ease and grabbing a cereal box from the counter. "Out of curiosity, how are you planning on protecting me? Besides batting your eyelashes and bending over in that little skirt?"

"Something along those lines, yeah."

Eddie still doesn't know about the baseball bat you borrowed from Steve, hidden under the couch. As far as you're concerned, he doesn't need to.

"Good to know they'll all be rock hard when they kill me. Wouldn't have it any other way."

You make a face—maybe just to hide the way your eyes go wide at the idea of anybody being rock hard. "You're disgusting."

"So I've been told," he says, spraying a mouthful of honey comb, "by you, actually."

You just stare at him blankly, watching him chew as you replay the last few days. A lot had happened since you'd saw him threaten Steve with that busted bottle, and you'd called plenty of names during that time, but disgusting wasn't one of them. "No I haven't!"

He's not looking at you, admiring the silver glint of his rings, fingers splayed.

"You're friends did though," he says, quiet enough that you have to stand just to hear him, "and I don't remember you going out of your way to shut them up."

Oh. He's not talking about your friends—Steve and Dustin and the others. He's talking about your friends, the ones from before—the little clique of girls you ate lunch with every day for four years without really knowing each other at all.

"Whatever," you shrug, trying to brush off the accusation, sorting through the food Dustin had picked out to keep your hands busy, "that was high school."

He's unimpressed with your defense. "Okay, well you were a bitch in high school."

It hasn't even been a year since your graduation, but the person you were then isn't someone you'd recognize anymore. Hearing him say that about you makes your stomach sink—remembering all the times you had been a bitch to Eddie and people like him. You'd never be able to take those moments back, no matter how often you and your new friends saved the world.

You do your best to hide the hurt, reaching for a handful of M&Ms. If defense wouldn't work, you'd have to go offensive.

"If we're gonna bring up high school, you fucking started it."

Eddie leans in close under the guise of snatching some of the chocolate from your hand, warm fingers dancing over the skin of your palm.

"How'd I do that?" he asks with mock sincerity. Your heart races watching the movement of his dark pink lips.

"You know . . . you were always kicking my chair in Mrs. Click's class, and sticking chewed gum in my notebook when I turned to talk with Jared or Ashley, and- and whatever."

You can't look at him and talk at the same time. Not when he's got a few strands of hair caught up in his ridiculously long eyelashes, luring you into the warm center of his gaze, trying to trap you there.

He brushes some of the hair out of his eyes, sliding a little closer, chest pressed up against your shoulder. His skin is warm enough you can feel it through his shirt. His voice gets throatier when he whispers.

"How else was I guy like me supposed to get your attention?"

The M&Ms are turning to mush in your palm, crunching a little when your fist tightens involuntarily. You drop the chocolatey glob on the table, sliding away from him and facing the sink, hoping he couldn't feel the heat in your cheeks.

"You've made funnier jokes, Munson."

He just keeps talking, even with your back turned to him, spewing out shit that makes your whole body tense.

"Not a joke, babe. I've always had a thing for pretty girls with sticks up their asses. Figured somebody needed to fuck that attitude out of you."

You've got a death grip on the towel beside the sink, dripping little puddles all over the counter.

"I don't have anything up my ass," you mutter under your breath, as if a weak attempt like that would stop him when he's just getting started.

"—and I figured I could do the job, since those dickheads always drooling around you looked too stupid to fuck their way out of a paper bag—"

You just scrunch your nose, talking to yourself, "like I would know anything about that."

You're sure he won't notice your mumbled response, not when he's having such a good time talking to himself. And you're busy—in your own way—thinking about how many of those same dickheads had left you drunk in party bathrooms or alone in the woods on moonless nights when you'd shoved their hands away from your hemline one too many times.

"What?"

Eddie heard you, somehow—the one time you didn't want him to. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you do your best to change the subject. "Nothing. We really should talk about something else—"

"Wait, are you—?"—Eddie's sidled right beside you at the counter, leaning forward on both arms, smiling so fucking wide your hand itches to slap the smug look from his face— "Holy shit, are you a virgin?"

Fuck.

"I said I didn't want to talk about it!"

You throw the towel at him, but it just smacks against his chest with a disappointing thud, doing nothing to tone down your anger or the stinging embarrassment. "God, don't you ever shut up?"

He's totally immune to your little tantrum, taking one of your hands in his own, bringing it close to him, playing with your fingers.

He's got big hands. They practically swallow your own with no effort, the boar's head ring smiling up at you. You don't want to think about what they'd feel like touching you elsewhere, his huge, hot palms cupping your ass, spreading you apart with his ring-heavy fingers.

"Aw, baby," he coos, "if you wanted me to be your first, you could've just asked."

"Don't be delusional, Munson," you say, yanking your hand from his grip. It tingles a little where he's touched you, nerves deadened when they're not feeling him.

It's not like you cared that much about who was your first; it was always more about how. All those other losers had been fine with a quick fuck in the back of a car and you weren't about that. It's not like you expected candles and rose petals and shit—just a guy who'd at least try to get you off.

With the way he's looking at you now, Eddie's seeming more and more like the perfect candidate.

"Yeah, delusional, okay," Eddie's tone is sarcastic as he rolls his eyes, coming in close, seeing right through you like a piece of glass. His hair is brushing against your cheeks, hot breath on your neck, and your whole body responds, thighs pressing together, a thick swallow in your throat. He smells like cigarettes, with the faintest faded whiff cologne underneath the sharp sting of sweat. The more you have of it, the more you want.

There's something sinful reflected in his eyes when you look at him; it takes a second for you to recognize it's your own expression.

"Five bucks says you're wet for me right now."

He's surprised the sarcasm right out of you, reading you like that—leaving your voice weak and breathless, without your usual bite. "In your dreams, maybe."

"Oh yeah, all the time,—" the tips of his fingers brush against the outside of your thigh, "—but that's not what we're talking about here."

His palm is like a brand, pressed just above your knee, thick thumb stroking across your bare skin.

"Stop that," you whisper. Your throat burns with the smell of him.

He just cocks a brow. "You want me to?"

No. You won't say it—swallowing the word down and staring at him in silence—but you can't say yes, even if you don't mean it. He's the kind of guy who would actually stop if you did.

And you can't have him stop.

His hand curls into a fist against your skin until you lose contact with the cool metal of his rings. Eddie's expression is almost stern.

"I'm gonna need to hear you say it, princess."

The nickname doesn't bother you this time, stoking the heat at your core enough to loosen your tongue, just in case he might say it again. "No. I don't want you to stop."

The smile he gives you is worth your pride a hundred times over.

"Good girl."

Eddie's hand moves painfully slow, tips of his fingers brushing over goosebumps like he's trying to read braille, doe eyes staring down at you, gaze flickering towards your lips. It could be ironic that the one time you were desperate for a guy to rush through this part, the guy in question is determined to take his time.

It could be ironic, if it wasn't so fucking infuriating.

"Eddie," you say—way too desperate—but he just smiles at the shift of your hips as you take the last inch between his fingers and the soaked fabric of your panties by force.

Fuck, he feels good between your thighs—even just this part of him. He strokes his fingers back and forth, pinching a little at your covered pussy, laughing at the gasping sound you make when one of his rings catches against your clit.

You don't even care that it was this easy for him. You couldn't give less of a fuck.

He's got dimples in his cheeks from the grin he wears. "I'm flattered, sweetheart. This all for me?"

He's still stroking you, a smooth back and forth with his long, beautiful fingers. It's hard to form words anymore.

"Sh- shut up."

"About this?" His hips are harsh against yours, "uh-uh, never. I'm never gonna shut up about this wet. fucking. pussy."

He's breathing hard, gripping roughly at your cunt, punctuating each word with a brush against your clit, the tip of one finger past your lips and stroking along your entrance. Even through the cotton it makes you squirm, the feel of the soft, wet fabric almost too much for your sensitive cunt.

Your clumsy hands meet at his belt buckle, just resting there, arms jellied by the way he's touching you.

"Eddie."

He's got his ear pressed up against your cheek, a few of his flyaways sticking to the sweat on your temples. It's good he's so close or he might not be able to hear you at all.

"Yeah?" His chest heaves, arm muscles tight where they press against your stomach. When you lean back enough to meet his eyes, he's got his tongue caught between his teeth.

"I don't—fuck—I don't have five dollars."

"What?"

He actually stops his assault on your pussy for just a moment, and you breathe a soft laugh. It's nice to know you're not the only one who can be caught of guard.

"The bet. I owe you five—"

The thrust of his hips cuts off the end of your sentence, alarm bells ringing in your head. He hadn't been carrying anything in his pockets, as far as you knew—no switchblade or flashlight or a fucking cucumber by the feel of it. Which could only mean one thing.

Eddie Munson is rock fucking hard. For you.

His hand still cups your pussy as the other takes you by the neck, palm easily spanning your entire jaw and there's no chance you'd even think about fighting him when he guides you closer to his lips.

"I think we can work something out."

Eddie's kisses are intoxicating—hot and wet and strong, putting a burn in your throat from the power behind it—body aching at the way he bends you, his jaw pressed tight against yours, guiding your body with every shift of his head. He's got his tongue past your open lips, tasting like cigarettes and sugary breakfast cereal and stale sleep and it's still got you weak at the knees.

Kissing Eddie is everything.

He's making little moaning noises against your lips, the pressure behind his hips denting your back against the counter, digging into you enough there might be print of his dick on your thigh when he pulls away. His hand has gone still as he's caught up in this kiss, and grinding down against his fingers isn't enough anymore for the gnawing heat in your cunt.

You pull back, turning your head a little to the side when he chases after your lips.

"Fuck me, Eddie."

Even in the fading light, you can see how dark Eddie's eyes have become—already deep irises swallowed by black pupils.

"Really?"

His adam's apple bobs with a harsh swallow, like he didn't even think it would get to this point. You don't have time to worry about the statistical likelihood of a situation where you'd be begging Eddie Munson to fuck you—not with the way your pussy is throbbing.

"God, Eddie. Yes."

The muscles in his throat tense, thin blue veins distended, and if he's nervous taking control, he doesn't show it. You, on the other hand, are shaking like a fucking leaf.

"Bend over," he tells you, and you comply without comment—just grateful you don't have to make any of these decisions yourself—stretching out long, arms at an angle against the wall and chest flat against the table top.

There's the heat of his body against your thighs as Eddie steps closer, hips looming behind you, just out of reach. The fabric of your skirt is shifted out of the way, bunched up around your waist, and then Eddie's broad palm cups your ass, thumb achingly close to your core again, whispered touch moving closer, closer, the flat of his thumb pressed against your dripping hole. His other hand reaches for the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down roughly over your hips with the scrape of his rings until they fall to your ankles, leaving you totally bare.

And then you feel the harsh smack of his hand against the swell of your cheek, hips forced into the counter and a low moan on your lips.

You're still reeling when you turn back to look at him.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie!"

"Sorry, baby, but I had to," he laughs, untouched by your anger as always, looking a little endeared by the glare you send over your shoulder.

"You could warn me first," you grumble. Then maybe you could have done something about the mortifying sound you'd just made.

His fingers rub gently at the mark he must have left against your ass cheek, soothing the ache as he presses his chest against your back. "Where's the fun in that?"

He grins—face framed by wild hair, big eyes shining—and it mollifies you, but only slightly.

"Are you gonna fuck me or not?"

"Patience, baby," —he leans off you, reaching into his back pocket for a little silver-foiled packet—"safety first."

A fucking condom. You roll your eyes. "How long have you had that on you?"

"Since you told me you were staying. Rick keeps a bunch lying around—figured it couldn't hurt to be prepared."

So he's been thinking about fucking you for the past two days. You're not sure if that makes you more desperate or more annoyed.

You lay your head back down, rolling your eyes even though he can't see them at this angle. "You're an ass, Eddie Munson."

Not that you care, not with the sound of his zipper and the clink of his belt—which definitely make you hornier—the crinkle of the condom wrapper and the way you hear him spit a piece of the shiny foil onto the floor after opening it with his teeth.

With your cheek pressed to the table, you can't see what he's doing, shifting your hips side to side as you as you wait to feel him touch you again. It starts with a hand at your hip, pulling you against him, the white-hot pit in your stomach fueled by the feeling of his cock pressed between your ass cheeks, teasing you with a few soft strokes.

"You sure you want this?"

His other hand wraps around your waist, splitting your folds with his fingers, just barely petting across your clit. You can feel your pussy dripping for him.

"God, yes. Pl—"

He cuts you off, the end of the word lost in an ungodly moan as he presses the thick head of his cock past your messy entrance, and the stretch is already unreal—a searing sting that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your nails biting into your palms.

"Christ, baby, you're fucking tight," he says, with a hint of awe in his voice, sliding forward another inch, drunk on your little whimpered sounds.

You can't keep quiet as Eddie thrusts forward again, and again, and again, going until you're sure it would be impossible for him to have any dick left, cunt pulsing around him like its in cardiac arrest.

And then he gives you another inch.

"Fuck," —it's the only word you know anymore, the only thing you can think past the tremors running up and down your entire body, every brain cell you've got focused on the stunning pain stretching out your cunt, so full it's like you can feel the tip of him nudging at your lungs. "Fuck."

Eddie's not saying a word—a first for him—but you can tell he's thinking the same thing you are, can feel the letters F-U-C-K printed against your hip bones on the tips of his fingers. His breathing is loud and messy, shifting his hips just slightly until there's the soft slap of his balls against the backs of your thighs.

"Gotta, Jesus,"—two of Eddie's fingers press down against your clit, and you whine, wiggling a little at the feeling until his other hand tightens against your hips, "gotta loosen you up a little, baby. I'm 'bout to fuckin' bust."

He sandwiches you against the counter as he shifts forward to improve the angle of his fingers, circling your clit steadily. Your legs part, a little wider, hoping to make room for more of the feeling he's giving you.

"That's a good girl," Eddie groans.

You hadn't even noticed the way you'd been rocking your hips back against him, too absorbed by the feeling of his dick nudging at some shining point inside you, setting off fireworks behind your eyes with each brush.

He thrusts into you in earnest, and it's like you can hear the pop of your mind's pyrotechnics, the bass thudding in your chest, coming out of your mouth as long, throaty moans.

And Eddie must like those noises you're making, because it's got him pounding at you faster—slamming his whole dick into you hard enough to make the cupboards shake.

"Gonna ruin this fucking virgin pussy," he says, but you're not sure if you're meant to hear, or if it's a promise he's making to himself, "gonna ruin you for the next asshole who comes along."

"Fuck Eddie, I want you to . . . don't- don't want anybody else."

Jesus, where did that come from? Half an hour ago you were teetering on the edge of throttling him and now you're promising him a life-time unlimited supply of pussy.

If he replies, you can't hear him over your high-pitched whine as he pinches at your clit, strumming at you with his guitar-calloused finger tips.

"Gonna cum," you warn him, lashes fluttering at the way the heat is building in your gut and your pussy and your chest, building higher and higher, ready to take you.

Until he pulls back, totally still with his hands at your hips.

"Edddiiiieeeeeeeeeee."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. The feeling's gone, and no amount of whining is going to get it back, the opening of your cunt trembling and dripping and empty.

He shushes you, one hand at your neck, ring biting at your throat and the chain at his wrist brushing against your chin as he pulls you close. Fat tears blur your vision until he's one big, brown smudge of hair and pink skin.

"Can't make it too easy for you, honey," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your puffy lips. You blink the tears from your eyes.

"That was mean."

His chest shakes with laughter, and some of your spend smears across your cheek as he brushes a strand of hair back behind ear. "Let's consider it payback, princess. You wanna cum this time?"

I wanted to cum the last time, you think, but don't say it. He's fucked the antagonism right out of you. "Yes, please."

He kisses you, and the angle is awkward with you propped up on your hands, his tongue halfway down your throat as his other hand guides the head of his cock back to your throbbing entrance. He slides inside with ease.

It feels better with him this close, his thrusts shorter and slower but hitting you just right, hips slapping against yours, belt and chains jangling in time with the wet squelch of your cunt. It feels better when you can taste him, running the tip of your tongue along the edge of his teeth.

"You close again, baby?" he asks between sharp breaths. You nod, feeling hot, feeling used, thighs coated with your sticky wet cum, and body trembling in his grasp.

"Eddie," his name is like a cry on your lips, everything else stolen. You can't get the other words out, can't tell him that you feel it looming and it's heavier than the last time and it's strong enough to scare you, can't tell him that you don't know what's going to happen or who you'll be on the other side. "Eddie."

He's unphased, laughing, face mashed up against your cheek. "Tell me about it."

It takes you, fucking swallows you up and spits you out. Your whole body is pulsing, a ten on the Richter scale emanating from your pussy. Total devastation.

He thrusts into a few more times, fucking you through it, short bursts that make you whimper until the quaking stops and he groans, sliding from your cunt.

"God fucking damn," Eddie says, rattling around the kitchen, and you don't have a single brain cell left to wonder what he's doing, "how was that for your first time?"

It's a good question. You shift experimentally, aching in places you didn't know existed and numb everywhere else.

He's back at your side with a wet dish towel in hand. Eddie pets it gently between your legs, cleaning up everything sticky from your skin and your hair. You just hope Rick won't mind finding a towel covered in pussy juice in his house whenever he gets out of prison.

There's a soft look in Eddie's eyes as he cleans you up, tongue caught between his teeth, and it has you gnawing on your lips—a melty feeling in your chest no orgasm could cause.

"So . . . what happens now?"

You're not sure what you're hoping for—if you want him to kiss you, or tell you he'll fuck you whenever, no strings attached, or promise he'd never bring up the way you screamed for him ever again.

Actually, you know you don't want the last one. Beyond that, you're willing to take what you can get.

"Now," Eddie says, cupping your face in his hands, "you finally get some fucking sleep."

Maybe he's being stupid on purpose, saving your question for another time when you've got a little more mental prowess available and he's not being hunted for sport. Eddie leads you to Rick's bedroom, one hand at your waist, and your exhaustion hits you in a wave. You hadn't even realized how hard you'd been working to keep your eyes open.

The rest of you might be on the edge of sleep, but your suspicion is wide awake. "Did you only fuck me to tire me out?"

Eddie chuckles, crawling onto the big mattress and guiding you up with him, his body softer beneath yours in the darkness.

"Not only," he whispers, arms tight around your waist, "but I think it worked out alright."

You're breathing steadier already, having him here. There's no need to listen for him alive outside the door when you've got his heart beat beneath you. You'd never realized how much you worried about him whenever he was out of your sight.

"Eddie?"

He's lit a cigarette—you can see the red orange tip of it glow brighter in the darkness when he takes a drag.

"What, baby?"

"I'm sorry I was a bitch to you in high school."

His chest rises and falls with steady breaths. "Don't worry about it."

And then it's quiet again, your eyelids falling closed and staying that way. Eddie keeps a hand on you—sometimes stroking gently over your arm, or nestled tight at your waist. You would have thought that kind of movement would keep you awake, but you can feel your body grow heavier against him, muscles relaxing under his touch.

"Hey, Eddie?" You don't even bother to open your eyes this time.

"What is it now?"

"Can we do that again," you ask, sentence broken up by a soft yawn, "you know, when I wake up?"

"Sure thing, baby," Eddie promises, "whenever you want."

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