#jeff says what…what Right time you’re scaring me a little | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bambiimutt · 7 months

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He makes you cry during an Argument.

Arguments with these boys? What could possibly go wrong..

ೃ࿔*:･

Headcannons and short stories under the cut!

ೃ࿔*:･

TW!! talk of Hoodie stalking, but not major! I think that’s it!!

Jeffrey Hodex:

- you’d think an argument with your boyfriend who loves you oh so dearly would hopefully end in him apologizing. Wanting to make sure he didn’t say anything to you to hurt you.. but you sometimes forget he’s not the normal person.

-Jeff has anger issues and it’s not a surprise to anyone when it’s brought up. So typically with any argument he has, his anger tends to get the better of him.

-which means if the argument is small it’s bound to be blown out of proportion, if it’s a pretty bad argument it’s about to be even worse.

-he doesn’t like to listen. To him he’s always right. He’s never wrong even if deep down he knows he actually fucked up he doesn’t want to admit it because he doesn’t want to look “weak” or too “soft”

-he typically doesn’t feel bad if you end up getting hurt emotionally, you’ll get a good ol scoff and roll of the eyes while he tells you “it’s not that big of a fucking deal, you don’t need to be so emotional.” Along the lines of that.

-but… you might just tug a few heart strings when he realized he’s made you cry. It’s when he sees that he’s scared you that he breaks a little. He’s got a habit of punching walls, breaking shit around the house when you both argue, screaming in your face.. and if it all leads to you finally breaking down and shaking that’s where he finally draws his line.

-he didn’t mean to scare you.. not like that at least. The last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him. He loves you.. even if he shows it in odd ways. He’s an asshole yes but he’s your asshole.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Would you just fucking Listen!” Jeff screamed out. His hands were immediately gripping onto his pants, trying his damned hardest to not punch the closest thing to him. But he can’t help himself the moment you cross your arms and give him that fucking look. “Jeffrey. Cut it out, I’ve listened to you for the past 40 fucking minutes.. you need to listen to me-“ you’re cut off quickly hearing his hand collide with the wall and a loud grunt leaving his lips. He’s slightly heaving, breathing heavily and hair a bit messy in front of his face. You jumped a bit, backing up quickly when he immediately whipped around to trudge towards you, black combat boots making him taller then he already was. His large hand was quick to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together just slightly. “No you fucking listen to me. Stop being a fucking bitch. Why do you have to pick at everything I fucking do, huh?! Huh?!” If he was a scrawny guy you’d say you’d be able to at least get free but no.. no he was a big guy, tall. Muscular, broad shoulders.. built chest. His biceps twitched slightly as his grip grew harder. There was no way you were escaping this. Not with him. Your small hands pushed at his arm and your eyes watered, a tear falling onto his fingers. Oh.. Jeff’s grip softened as he slowly let go. His form lowering himself so he was at your level. “Oh baby.. oh..” his hands hesitated before cupping your cheeks and his lips are kissing at the corners of your lips, trailing towards your ear. “I didn’t mean it..” his voice is deep, gruff and low in your ear as you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry..” really it’s the only time you’ll get a sorry out of him, a genuine one at that.

Tobias Rogers

- he’s one of the ones who’s a bit more understanding. He can’t exactly understand physical pain or frustration but he can completely understand emotional pain and anger.. and how fucking awful it can be to handle. So when he’s stood, tall and lanky in front of you, hands swinging in the air and his voice raising he can suddenly feel the room shift to a hurt.. deep cut feeling.

- he tries not to yell he tries to hear you out when you both have an argument, but having BPD can be an issue when it comes to that.. you say one thing in a slight tone and he’s set off. Oh? So this is his fault suddenly? Why did you have to say it like that? You could have said it this way. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?

-when in reality that’s not how you meant it at all.. and yes Toby does feel bad for it afterwards he shouldn’t have lashed out that way, he should have sat and listened and maybe asked why you said it that way.. but sometimes things get the better of us.

-he’s not always the one to apologize afterwards but he does when he knows he really fucked up. He can’t lose you not to something so fucking stupid. “I-I’m sorry.. you didn’t deserve to hear that.. to e-endure any of that..” with a sniffle you look up at him teary eyed. Oh that really hurts. “It’s okay Toby” he’s immediately at your side, hands brushing your hair back and placing gentle kisses to your jaw. It kills him when you cry.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I don’t know Toby I’m just tired..” this is what set him off. The way you said it. You were tired? of this? Of him? Of this relationship? “Are you fucking serious?” He speaks with his teeth clenched together, his head resting in his hands before he’s looking up at your slowly. His body slightly twitches from time to time, though when he was angry it usually became an issue for him, twitching far too often, clearing his throat more aggressively. His tics would normally become more violent in some ways. “Are we just d-done then? That’s it just b-because you’re tired yo-you can’t fucking walk away-“ his arm flys up in the air as he stands, his hands coming to rub at his face and the patch of hair on his chin. His tired droopy eyes dart towards you. You didn’t necessarily start crying because he scared you it was more of the the stress of the situation. “Toby please that’s not what I meant.” He still hasn’t noticed as his tall figure is rambling on, tics making his occasional grip and smack to his leg but he of course can’t feel it. When he finally looks at you he realizes you’ve been crying and it stops. The room becomes quiet and he twitches a few more times before softly kneeling on the floor where you sat. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that.. I’m sorry..” he’s softly laying you down on the floor as his lips trail your neck, his hands placing your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles against your neck.

-Ben Lawman/drowned

- to be honest he’s probably not the one who started it. He’s usually pretty calm, and quiet…. Except for when he wants to act like a child and become ignorant and downright inappropriate.

-he can be perverted.. gross and this is usually where the arguments start, not that you don’t like him nor the way he acts it’s more when he says things he shouldn’t be saying. So you typically end up yelling at him and he will normally sit embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty.. he didn’t think you’d get so upset.

- on occasion if the argument isn’t about that and about something else he still is usually the one to just take it but there are rare moments where he snaps back. And when he does. Oh boy.

-constant pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sharp glares at you and laughing in disbelief. He’ll sometimes say things he doesn’t mean. He’s usually not one to yell but when he does you aren’t really expecting it. So it scares you.. and the tears finally break.

- ben only stares for a moment. “Shit.” Yeah he fucked up big time. He immediately feels guilty and he immediately rushes towards you to pull you into a tight embrace. He didn’t mean to take it that far.. he really didn’t, knowing it was him who made you cry makes him want to break down himself.

ೃ࿔*:･

“You can hate me yknow, I won’t blame you, or be angry..” Ben mumbled against your hair, your sniffling shattering his dead heart even further. You look up at the blonde, your fingers lacing their way into his hair as you force a bit of a smile “I just.. I hate when we argue like that..” your voice breaks causing Ben to swallow. Oh no. There’s that lump in his throat. His hands rub at your back before feeling his way towards your lower half, squeezing gently. “I know babe. Don’t listen to me when I get like that yeah?” You give a gentle smile as he softly lifts you up, bringing you closer as he grabs his controller, getting ready to play his game and have you relax against him. Occasionally he’ll presses kisses to your forehead. He doesn’t like to talk about the arguments, maybe because he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions and yours at the same time or maybe he’s just scared it’ll lead to another argument, but he apologized like he always does and makes sure your comfy against him while he games. As long as you’re content with it, he’s content.

-Masky/ Tim Wright

- a bit like Jeff I just think he’s a bit more mellow, he won’t ever apologize unless he knows he’s actually in the wrong. Which ends up being majority of the time. You know he has his episodes, where he blacks out and doesn’t remember a lot of the things he ends up doing.

- he will sometimes black out during an argument. It’s not often but when he does it’s like arguing with a brick wall. Like Jeff he won’t listen. He refuses to listen to anything you say because In the moment he’s the one who’s right. But he’ll never go as far to say mean things like Jeff does. No Tim tends to stop himself before he does.

-he storms off frequently. I think he more or so hates the emotions that comes with this. He hates the yelling, the way you look at him with disbelief and anger.. Its more so he doesn’t feel like fucking shit up for being an asshole to someone who genuinely cares about him. So he leaves you to your emotions to figure out, and if they aren’t figured out by the time he gets back he tries his best to help. Even if he does seem annoyed.

- typically your arguments are more him being snarky, sarcastic and being too logical, he can raise his voice from time to time but he’s only ever yelled at you once, and he still beats him self up for it to this day. Seeing you cry at how angry he got, how you still reached out for him in your meltdown caused by him.. and you still reached for him.

ೃ࿔*:･

“They’re pills y/n, prescription pills. I’ll be fine you know I need to take them. Why do I need to keep telling you thi-“ you cut him off quickly your voice already laced with concern as it shook. “Because you take more then you should be taking Tim. I don’t like it I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” he understood where you came from yes but what you needed to do was stop it. Just stop worrying about him. “Please for the love of god, I’m fine! I’m fucking fine! I’ll be fine! Please just stop it. I hate how much you worry and stress yourself over me. They’re fucking pills, I take them when needed. So just stop!” Now he didn’t scream super loud, but it was loud enough for you to feel the lumpy tingly feeling in your throat bubble, your hands softly twisting together “s-sorry..” you squeaked out. Tears brimmed your eyes as your bottom lip quivered. He watched you carefully for a moment, grimacing a bit as he watched your face twist with sadness.. and you slowly making your way towards him. Tim opens his arms and quietly pulls you in, one hand rubbing at the back of your head and the other gripping your back. “I’m an asshole. I know you’re just worried.” He mumbled quietly, lips pressed to your forehead as you hide your face in his chest. “You’re okay..” he continues to mumble, awkwardly trying to find a way to comfort you further.

Hoodie/ Brian Thomas

-he’s quiet. Very quiet. I think he’s the most gentle when it comes to arguments with his S/O. He’s scared to hurt you, always in any circumstances. He’s more observant, he knows when the argument gets too much for you just by a single movement.

-though he does have his moments where he does get angry back, he can normally control his temper. Usually the argument starts by something he’s done so he can handle it, he can deal with it. He tells you “I promise I’ll change, just give me some time” and you believe him because he does change but then he falls back into his habits, leaving for weeks on end, taking too many pills, his stalker tendencies.

-the argument this time is unclear, you probably don’t even remember by the Time Brian starts yelling back at you. His hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times, he’s clenching his fists and trying to breathe as he shakily keeps his voice down.

-even in moments like this he still thinks of you. Not wanting to hurt you nor scare you.. he just lets you have your outburst and then you both move on. But tonight was different.

-he tends to ignore you when he gets worked up in an argument. If he’s not yelling back then majority of the time he’s just silent. His back towards you. But only when he’s angry right back at you. He’ll give you that silent treatment for hours.

-but this time. He made you cry. And he’s stopped dead in his tracks, eyes softening, getting down on his knees and resting his head against your stomach,his hands holding onto your waist. Sigh… he just had to fuck shit up again didn’t he.

ೃ࿔*:･

“Brian you can’t just leave me for weeks on end.. you can’t just.. disappear then show up like nothings happened. Where do you go..? Is there someone else” at this point he’s just been listening to you, letting you vent out but when you suddenly accuse him of cheating on you.. he snaps. You really think HE would cheat on you?! It’s not like he didn’t spend months watching you, becoming so infatuated with you to the point that it would make anybody so fucking sick to their stomach. But he couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t tell you he’s loved you far longer. So he stands, looks at you with anger in his eyes, a hint of sadness flashing on his face “don’t fucking accuse me of cheating on you.” He points a shaky finger in your face “don’t you ever. You don’t understand the shit I’d do for you, the shit I DO for you.” He’s close now, watching as you look up at him shakily. “This S-still doesn’t explain where you go Brian.. you-“ he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you close “no listen to me. I want to tell you I want to tell you so badly but I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t.” His eyes are averting he’s becoming shaky himself, he’s panicking. Trust him. Is what he wants to tell you, that It’ll all be okay, he’ll be okay in a couple of days, he’ll change just give him time.. but he can’t lie to you.. not now. It would only make shit worse for you in this moment. When he finally looks back at you he sees you staring up at him, not a word spoken but tears streaming down your face, and your wrists still held tight in his large hands. “I..” he softly brings your hand down, lowering himself to the ground as he watches you still stare straight ahead. He scared you. Brian goes silent and lets himself sit on his knees, his hands running up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and burying his head into your stomach. “I’m sorry” he whispered gently, shivering when he feels your hands curl into his hair and finally look down at him. You know he feels guilty. He’s only trying to protect you.

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kazmyass · 6 months

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hey! i just came over from tiktok, could you possibly do a gally x reader where he tries to act tough around all of the guys but (y/n) starts teasing about how sweet he actually is and he has to try and defend himself but gets all flustered over it, but can’t get mad at (y/n) cause he’s got that fat crush on her? (fem pronouns possibly please?)

Not So Tough

Pairing: Gally x fem!reader

Description: Gally has a hard exterior, but secretly melts when y/n is around.

Warnings: smooching, glade slang, idk just a lot of fluff, gally being a bit of a jerk

Words: 651

Prompt: Grumpy x Sunshine Trope

A/N: It lowkey ends kinda abruptly but OH WELL HERE YA GO

“Gally, would you please stop yelling at the rest of the builders and actually start building?” Newt called from the gardens.

“No can do, I gotta make sure everyone stays in line, that’s why you put me in charge of the builders, remember?” Gally called back, yelping soon after when one of the newer gladers dropped a piece of wood on his head. “You shank! Look what you’ve done! Dropping klunk all over the place, you should be sent to the slammer!”

“Gally, is that really any way to talk to the new guy?” Y/n jogged up to Gally from the med-jack hut where she was just supervising Clint and Jeff. Y/n was somewhat of a floater when it came to jobs. When they were testing what jobs she was good at, she was nearly good at every single one. Well, except for the slicers. Poor Winston nearly scared the girl half to death when he first came out with a machete.

“I uh- Well he dripped- I mean dropped that shucking piece of wood on me an-” Gally stammered.

“Gally, c’mon give the guy a break, he’s only been here a week,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Look, I’m just trying to do my job, gotta make sure everything gets done, right?” Gally said, seeming to regain his composure.

“And it will get done, you can just be a little nicer about it through,” Y/n said, placing a hand on Gally’s arm and running her fingers down his bicep.

Gally blushed. Y/n was playing him like a fiddle and she knew damn well what she was doing.

“I’ll see you at supper?” Y/n said.

“You know you’re the only one that calls it that, right? It’s dinner,” Gally snorted.

“Oh shut it, you know you love me,” Y/n said before turning over her shoulder and walking away, not before giving Gally one last smile. Gally stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with himself.

“Oi, Gally, what were you saying about making sure things get done?” Newt called, snickering to Alby.

“Oh slim it,” Gally growled. “No- you can’t hammer that in, there’s not a screw to hold it together!” He turned his attention to the Greenie.

___

“Hey big guy, not interested in tackling anyone to the ground tonight?” Y/n’s voice came from above Gally.

“No, not tonight, gonna try to go to sleep early,” Gally said, getting up and trying his best to avoid y/n. But before he could leave, y/n grabbed his wrist.

“Wait- did today really bother you?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gally broke away from her grip and tried to escape again, but she was too quick for him. She grabbed his arm again.

“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t think it would bother you, I thought you would actually like it, y’know considering I was flirting with you.” Gally’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Oh my god,” Y/n laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Kinda hard to pay attention to that when things need to get done,” Gally cleared his throat, trying his hardest to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“Oh don’t act like you weren’t blushing the whole time you- oh my god you’re even blushing right now!” She laughed.

“Shh, no I’m not,” Gally smiled back at her, the blush returning to his cheeks.

“You are! Gally’s blushing! Gally’s blu-” Y/n called when she was cut off.

Gally’s lips crashed into hers as his hand moved to her cheeks. Y/n closed her eyes and sunk into the kiss, bringing her arms around his neck. When Gally pulled away first, y/n smiled.

“What was that for?” She breathed.

“To shut you up,” Gally smiled. He looked to her lips and back to her eyes. “And also because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

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munson-blurbs · 6 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Fast-forward two years, and the little Munson clan is celebrating Halloween with some old--and new--faces.

Warnings: allusion to smut, a lil surprise...

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Happy Halloween! A gentle reminder that requests for the TUI universe are officially open. And thank you to @rip-quizilla and @the-unforgivenn for helping me with this little blurb.

Divider credit to @saradika

Autumn has fully settled into Hawkins, Indiana. The sun sets a bit earlier each evening; green leaves become orange, then red, then brown, before fluttering to the ground and being raked into trash bags. A chill hangs in the air, not strong enough to create frost, but enough to warrant a layer of clothing or two.

Lucky for you, your Halloween costume this year is a long-sleeved olive green shirt underneath a sleeveless brown house dress, high socks, and loafers. Warm, cozy, and perfect for pretending to be Misery’s Annie Wilkes.

Eddie strides towards your shared bedroom, a Ghostface mask pushed up atop his mess of curls. He leans against the doorframe and lets out a low wolf-whistle.

You roll your eyes and grin. “You’re so full of it,” you laugh, adjusting the straps of your dress where they’re twisting on your shoulders. “This is quite possibly the least sexy costume anyone could wear.”

Eddie tuts, pushing off on his bicep and shaking his head. “It’s not the costume; it’s the woman wearing it.” His lips tug upward in a toothy smile. “C’mon, give me a little twirl.” He moves his forefinger in a circular motion to indicate what he wants.

You oblige, slowly turning and offering a 360-degree view of your outfit. “How do I look?” you deadpan.

“Like you’re killing for two.” He presses a kiss to your lips, his palms resting on your rounded bump just as they have ever since you’d started showing. Now that you’re in your final few weeks of pregnancy, he seems to find an excuse to touch it every spare chance he gets. “You’re sure you’re up for trick-or-treating? If you’re too tired or something, you can hang back. Jeff and I can handle the kids.”

It takes all of your willpower not to let out a disbelieving snort. If the two men are engaged in conversation, Harris and Ettie could be halfway to Timbuktu before they even notice they’re missing. “I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Annie Wilkes wore sensible shoes, which certainly helps. Although,” you scrunch up your nose, “these are kind of uncomfortable.”

Eddie peers down at your loafers and immediately bursts into laughter. “Babe…they’re on the wrong feet.” He cradles your face in his hands and brings his lips to the tip of your nose. “Let me fix that for you, okay?” You sit on the bed while he crouches down, slipping off your shoes and placing them on the correct feet. “There ya go.”

“I can’t see over my belly!” You lament with a laugh, holding out your hands so your doting husband can help you up. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be more useful once I’m not pregnant.”

“I think growing a baby is pretty damn useful,” Eddie murmurs, thumb grazing your cheek, “not to mention how goddamn gorgeous you look while you do it,” he adds, a soft growl inflecting his tone. He would ravish you right then and there if Freddy Krueger himself didn’t appear by his side.

“Is it time for trick-or-treating?”

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie jumps, snapped out of his lovesick stupor in an instant. His hand flies to his chest as his heartbeat steadies. “You scared the hell outta me, Har.” He takes a deep breath before answering his son’s question. “We’ll go as soon as Uncle Jeff and Auntie Viv and Ettie get here.”

Harris nods, the dark gray fedora slipping in front of his eyes. “I wish my baby brother could go with us,” he says with a sigh, swaying his arms back and forth. “When is he gonna be born?”

“Two more weeks until he’s officially due,” you report, gingerly caressing your bump and smiling. Harris has been asking about the baby’s arrival ever since you and Eddie told him he was going to be a big brother. “And then he’ll come trick-or-treating with us next year.”

He beams at this idea, bouncing up and down with enough energy to make you question whether he’s already started eating candy. “I...can’t…wait!” he exclaims, each word more breathless than the last as he acts like a human spring. “Do…you…think…he’ll…like…Skittles?”

Eddie places a hand on Harris’s shoulder to stop his movements. “Baby Brother won’t be able to have Skittles for a long time,” he chuckles, the dimples in his cheeks making an always-welcome appearance, “but if you wanted to share with me, I wouldn’t turn down some peanut M&Ms…”

“Nah, I’m good.” Harris says simply, turning his attention back to your stomach. “It would be kinda cool if he was born on Halloween, though.”

You wrinkle your nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to trick-or-treat with you tonight,” you point out.

“Oh. Right.” Harris puts a hand on your bump and speaks directly to it. “You stay put until I get my candy.”

Jeff and his family arrive thirty minutes later, clad in their Winnie-the-Pooh themed costumes. Ettie, held in her mom’s arms, is the titular character. Viv makes the perfect Kanga with a Roo stuffed animal hot-glued in the fabric pouch that stretches over her own bump.

“That’s a good look for you,” Eddie snorts when Jeff walks in dressed as Eeyore.

“Right back atcha,” Jeff retorts with a playful smirk. “You’re like a geriatric Ghostface.”

You and Viv share an eye roll at their juvenile banter. “How’re you feeling?” she asks you, strategically ignoring the way Jeff and Eddie are swapping insults.

“Tired of being pregnant but terrified to give birth.” You laugh as you say it but your words are 100-percent true. As much as you’re ready to have your body back to yourself, delivering a baby is a daunting task. “How about you?” She’s due only one month after you are, and the two of you often commiserate about your respective pregnancies.

“Exhausted,” she admits, right hand fingers digging into her lower back and massaging it. “Chasing after a two-and-a-half year-old while being almost eight months pregnant is not for the weak.”

Your lips scrunch up sympathetically. “I don’t know how you do it, honestly.”

As if on cue, Ettie wriggles out of her mother’s grip so she can toddle over to her favorite uncle. Eddie scoops her up, and she greets him with an excited “hi!”

Tears gather at your lash line embarrassingly; the sight of your husband cooing over a young child has your third trimester hormones working in overdrive. You clear your throat and blink them back before anyone can notice. “Who wants to go trick-or-treating?”

Pillowcases in hand, Harris and Ettie cheer loudly as the six–almost eight–of you head out to take on the neighborhood in a conquest for full-size candy bars. You and Viv walk next to them; your husbands lag behind to lock the door.

“You ready to do this with double the amount of kids next year?” Jeff smirks, as Eddie turns the key and jiggles the knob to ensure no one can get it.

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “God, no.” He looks at his long-time friend and grins. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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just-a-creep-babe · 1 year

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61 for the smut thing? Can you do EJ

Ooooooh so i was sUper inspired during this one, and I’m thinking bout turning it into a multiple-part fic--would y’all be interested? 👀

Lmk if you enjoy ❣️ ✨

~Requests are closed but commissions are open!~

Join my Patreon if you’d like to support me!

Masterlist: x

61. “Just…once. Please. I just need to taste you once.”

It wasn’t a secret that the hybrid had a thing for you

But you didn’t know just how badly he wanted you

Or how often he found himself thinking of you

And how often that led to him rutting his stiff cock into his fist, desperately wishing it was you beneath him instead

You knew Jack was into you

But you didn’t know he was borderline obsessed with you

He passes you down the hall on Friday night, and your scent alone is nearly enough to drive him feral

You pause in your tracks, then call out to him

“Oh, Jack!”

God, just the way you say his name has the muscles in his abdomen tensing

He turns to you

“Yeah, what’s up?”

He tries not to cringe at how husky his voice sounds—you somehow always seem to coax a deeper pitch from him, almost as if by some kind of instinct

You smile, and god, he swears you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen

“Are you free right now?”

For you? Always

“I wanna get some training done,” you continue, entirely unaware of the way his heart is beating in his chest, “but I can’t find anyone else to spar with”

“I’m free,” he blurts the words out faster than intended, but only because the thought of you sparring with someone else makes his blood boil

“Great,” you smile again, and he can feel himself getting warmer, “are you ready for it right now, or do you have to change or something?”

“Now’s fine,” he hums

He gestures for you to lead the way, which you happily oblige

You make small talk as you walk down the corridor to the gym together

He could listen to you all day

He wants to hear every possible sound that can escape your delicate little throat; your laughter, your hums, your moans, your screams

Fuck, he has to distract himself

By the time you get to the training mats, he’s already partially hard

And though they won’t be fun to work out in, he’s thankful he wore his dark jeans instead of his grey sweats—he hates the thought of making you uncomfortable just because his damn pants might betray his arousal

“You really gonna fight me in that?” you laugh, and for a split second, he’s scared you can read his mind

But then he realizes you’re talking about his oversized hoodie, and relief washes over him

Wait—are you flirting with him?

Dumb grin on his face, he shakes his head and pulls the top over his head, tossing it out of the way into the corner of the room

“That better?”

He’s shirtless beneath it, and he almost can’t help but tense his muscles to give you a bit of a show

“Mmh, yeah, I guess it’ll do~” you tease

Fuck, fuck, fuck

He forces himself to think about Jeff and BEN to hopefully ease the way his pants keep tightening around him

He wants nothing more than to inhale your scent to see if there’s any change in your hormones

Does seeing him shirtless like this turn you on—even if just the slightest bit?

But he knows he’d be done for if he focuses too much on your scent

It’s already hard enough for him to control himself around you as is

You bring your hands up either side of your face, readying your stance, and he does the same

A mutual nod is shared, indicating you’re both ready, and then you’re making the first move

You step towards him and try to throw a hook

He dodges easily, then retaliates by kicking at the foot you’ve shifted your weight to

You stumble, but only for a second before using the momentum to try for another punch, this time aimed at his stomach

Again, he sidesteps it, his instincts making him unnaturally light on his feet

He wonders if he should let you get a few hits in; he’d hate to see you train with someone else just because he so obviously outmatches you

But while he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to fake out another punch, only to spin on your heels and give him a roundhouse kick

He tries to dodge it at the last second, but combined with his previous dilemma and the fact that he’s still very much so trying to conceal a boner, you hit him right in his side

He chokes out a groan, clutching the spot you landed the blow, and while you’re ahead, you take another shot, this time at his legs

He’s just as shocked as you must be when you get the hit in

He falls to his knees, and you’re about to drop your attack stance when he reaches out and grabs your ankle

His instincts take over for a split second, and the next thing he knows, he’s on top of you, pinning you down, and the both of you are panting heavily

Well, there go his attempts at hiding his hard-on

“Jack—“

You cut yourself off when you notice the way he’s looking down at you

The air seems to grow thick

Neither of you say anything

You both just lie there, staring at each other, sweaty body on sweaty body while you try to catch your breaths

And then, it happens

He makes the fatal mistake of breathing you in

Your scent is intoxicating

As soon as he gets a whiff, he can’t help but nestle into your neck to breathe in more of you

It’s not just your sweat—you’re turned on

You want him

His pelvis digs into yours, rolling circles between your thighs

“J-Jack—“

You gasp his name, and he almost has to stop himself from biting down into your neck right then and there

He wants to claim you, brand his mark into your skin

You’re his, you’re all his

The only thing stopping him from doing that right now is his damn fucking mask

“J-Jack, stop—“

His body freezes at the command

The word stop repeats itself in his clouded, lust-drunk mind

“W-we can’t,” you swallow thickly, “we can’t do this”

“…Why not?”

Any other time, it would’ve made him cringe to hear how much of a snarl his voice sounds like

But right now, he’s so horny, he can hardly bring himself to care

“It-it’s not—we just can’t. We’re just friends”

Friends

The word stings

He wants to spit it out, tear it in half because it’s in the way of him getting what he wants

A groan escapes him, something guttural and frustrated

You can’t lie—you want him too

He knows it, he can smell it

His cock twitches, and he notices the way it has more of your delicious scent filling the room

He buries his face into your neck again, cursing his fucking mask for blocking his lips from your skin, but knowing all too well it’s probably for the better

Breathing you in again has his hips rolling into you involuntarily

He can’t help it

He doesn’t even know if he’s really in control of himself anymore, or if it’s just the demonic instincts taking over

“Jack”

You say his name again, and oh, how he wishes it meant something different

“Just…once. Please,” he chokes the words out

He’s desperate

“I just need to taste you once”

He watches you bite your lip, brows furrowed, the need evident in your eyes

It’s pathetic, he shouldn’t be begging like this

But he’s so, so fucking desperate

He’s almost surprised when you finally make up your mind and give a shy nod

But it’s more than enough of the confirmation he needs

His hands travel down your form, trying to memorize every curve of your body beneath his touch

He’s almost salivating by the time he reaches your shorts

He looks up at you one last time, like he’s asking for permission again, and when you nod once more, biting your lip, he pulls the material all the way down

He thinks he might be in heaven when your bare cunt is revealed to him

You’re so wet you’re glistening

And your scent has his head spinning—to the point where he can’t focus on anything else

He wants to take his time, good lord, he wants to savor this, but he’s too impatient for his own good

He pushes his mask up to kiss at your thighs and hips, his sharp teeth occasionally leaving teasing nicks into your soft flesh

Your hands reach out to fist at his hair, legs spreading apart just the faintest bit more

When his tongue first makes contact with your folds, he groans deeply

He must be in heaven

He’s immediately addicted, hooked on the taste of your dripping sex

He grasps your thighs, tugs your legs over his shoulder, and firmly holds you in place

When he presses his lips to your cunt, just like that, he’s gone

He loses himself entirely to you

He sucks at your clit, lapping long strokes up your slit, and circling at your entrance

The way your body reacts to him, the way your cunt clenches every time he delves further into you, all those fucking sounds you’re making for him

He wants more

He needs more, so much fucking more

You pull his hair, whimpering his name, and he has to stop himself from grinding down into the training mat beneath him

He’s so hard, it’s almost painful

But as long as he gets to keep fucking you on his tongue, he’s over the moon

He’s so lost in you that he almost fails to notice the way your thighs start shaking around him

You’re getting close, and every nudge of his lips and tongue against your clit is making you moan even louder for him

“F-fuck, Jack— Fuck!—“

Your back arches, lifting off the ground

You look like a goddess

Even as you cum, he can’t bring himself to stop

You’re moaning and squirming, writhing in the palms of his hand, and something about it is driving him absolutely feral

He snarls, pushing his tongue deeper down your sex until he can feel you clenching around him

The string of curses falling from your parted lips is like a prayer he knows he won’t forget

He only stops when you start pulling at his hair, trying to tug him off of you

You’re shaking from the overstimulation

He, on the other hand, is throbbing in his jeans

He’s never felt so desperate

He wonders if he’s on the verge of triggering a heat

He licks at his lips, tasting your arousal off of his skin

The room is filled with your scent, and your taste is on his tongue, but if it were up to him, he’d still have more

And fuck, you’re so cute when you’re all flushed and panting after your orgasm

What he wouldn’t give to be able to see you like this all the time

He sits up, and he has to tense his muscles to prevent himself from shaking with need as you fix your shorts back on

He wants to say something, anything, but he’s at a loss for words

The word friends still hangs in the dead air between the two of you

It’s just about the only thing stopping him from folding you into a mating press and filling you with his seed

You look unsteady on your feet when you pull yourself up to stand

He looks up at you, still kneeling in front of you, and all he can picture is how good you’d look sitting on his face right now

Why must you make him so insatiable?

You make up some excuse about needing to go, looking shy and flustered and bashful all at once

He wants to say something that’ll convince you to stay, but he’s way too horny to think straight

And for the first time this evening, he’s thankful he’s still wearing his mask

It’s pushed halfway up his face, but maybe that’s just enough to conceal his expression so that you can’t tell all the depraved thoughts he’s having

He’s left there, kneeling on the training mat he just ate you out on, as he watches you leave

And he thinks fuck it, he’ll make sure that won’t be the only time he gets to do that to you

#creepypasta #eyeless Jack #eyeless Jack x reader #eyeless Jack x reader smut #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x reader smut

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keeksandgigz · 6 months

Text

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you.

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working.

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?”

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain.

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte.

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot.

“I was just joking, dickhead”

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery.

Fuck. No white dot.

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee.

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure.

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white.

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you.

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry.

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second.

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry.

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell.

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting.

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor.

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious”

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile.

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip.

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close.

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses.

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done.

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak”

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way.

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home”

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you.

He was supposed to be on the schedule.

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs.

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato.

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit.

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7.

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on.

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie.

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen.

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans.

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps.

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-”

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls.

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately.

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist.

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?”

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere.

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts.

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you.

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time.

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message.

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you?

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp.

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say, barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles.

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up.

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson au #barista!eddie munson

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 13

Part 1 Part 12

“Favorite song to listen to in the car?” Eddie asks. His fingers itching for a cigarette he doesn’t have.

It’s been quiet for a while, but Steve picks the game back up like no time has passed at all. “What’s the difference between that and your favorite song?” he asks.

Eddie scoffs. “Favorite song is meaningless,” he says. He’s reclined on the couch, feet dangling over the edge. “It’s gonna change, right? You don’t want to listen to the same song in the shower, as you want to listen to in the car, as you want to listen to alone at night, as you want to listen to while getting laid.”

Eddie bites his lip on the words, hadn’t meant to let that last one slip, but he keeps hearing Steve say, “I’m so in my body that I’m out of it.” He can’t stop thinking about activities more tawdry than sports that might have the same effect. His fingers twitch, and he tells himself it’s just for the same cigarette.

Steve hums, like he’s really thinking about it. “Don't Stop Me Now,” he says.

“Queen?” Eddie asks, shocked.

“What’s wrong with Queen?”

“Nothing! Eddie says, waving his hands in front of his chest. “I just thought you’d say like, Abba or something.”

Steve laughs. “Abba is for like, cleaning your house, man.” He flops down on the other side of the couch, hair mingling with Eddie’s in the middle cushion. The tops of their head’s brush. “When you want to make it a little fun, so doing the dishes doesn’t feel like the end of the world.”

“Hmm,” Eddie says, pushing down the thoughts of Steve Harrington dancing to Abba in his huge kitchen, those long yellow gloves housewives wear protecting his precious hands from wrinkles. “Well, why Don’t Stop Me Now, then?”

“It’s like, fast and upbeat sounding, right?” Steve asks. “But everything he says in it is like, a cry for help. He literally says he’s having a good time, but he keeps talking about how he’s a shooting star, and those things go out, man. He’s going too fast, and everyone’s just listening to him say not to stop him, but it's inevitable, and no one can see that.”

Eddie thinks about Steve’s parties, and the way his smile never reaches his eyes as he flounces around the school like he owns it. King Steve the shooting star. He doesn’t want to see the impact crater when he hits the ground, wonders if this is his cry for help.

“Plus, if you turn it up loud enough, the drums are pretty sick.”

Eddie laughs. “You like a good beat, huh Harrington?” Eddie asks, wiggling on the couch until he’s sitting upright, feet tucked under his ass, watching Steve struggle up just the same. They’re on opposite sides of the couch, like mismatched bookends. “There’s hope for you yet.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow, smiling with his eyes. “You gonna make me a mixtape, Munson?”

Eddie splutters. “Someone has to teach you the ways of Black Sabbath.”

“Oh?” Steve says, putting his chin in his palm, his elbow on his knee. “You’re going to educate me?”

Eddie feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. He has to know how that sounds, right? Harrington is known to have game. He has to know.

“Your turn,” Eddie says, covering his mouth with his palm when it comes out as a squeak. He moves his hand up a bit, covering his nose as well. Maybe he’ll suffocate and die, and never have to meet Steve’s eyes again.

Steve laughs, “Okay, okay, uhhh.” Eddie drops his hand, watches Steve pick at his cuticles for a minute before jamming his hands beneath his thighs. “Who’s your best friend?”

“Jeff,” he says. The name settles in his gut like hot chocolate.

“Tell me about him?” Steve asks.

“That’s a two parter,” Eddie says, waggling his finger, even as his throat constricts at the thought of his best friend. “He was the only person who was nice to me when I first moved here.”

Eddie can barely remember the scared kid with the shaved head he’d been, before Jeff had started sitting by him in class, swiping him a pudding cup at lunch, riding the bus with him.

“We’re in a band together now. And he plays D&D, too,” he says, smiling down at his hands. A pit has opened up in Eddie’s heart, and it’s in the shape of his best friend. He misses him. “He’s the best.”

Steve doesn’t comment on the way his voice comes out choked. “He sounds nice,” Steve says, quietly. He nudges the heel of his foot into Eddie’s thigh.

“What about you?”

When Steve doesn’t answer right away, Eddie looks up. Steve’s picking at his cuticle again. It’s bleeding a little at the edge. “Tommy’s been my friend since Kindergarten,” he says, glancing up furtively before looking back down. “And Carol since sixth.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, keeping his tone just as quiet as Steve’s.

Steve nods. “I love them,” he says, but it comes out like a bad thing.

Eddie nudges his foot “We’ll get back to them,” he says, hoping it’s the right thing to say. By the way Steve’s shoulder’s curl inward, like he’s trying to shield his heart, it wasn't the right thing at all.

Part 14

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fic

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dreamwatch · 13 days

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I tell you folks, it's harder than it looks

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest April warm-up round.

(So... I forgot to get something written before today, so this is a bit of a speed write and I hope I got as many typos and redundancies as possible. For anyone interested, the idea came from another fic I wrote a while ago, where you can see Wayne's POV.)

****

Kangaroos. That was the reason Steve had picked Australia to join the tour. Eddie called from every continent, trying to tempt him with far-flung locations, but in the end it was the kangaroos that got him. And thank god, because if he’d got the call that Eddie had collapsed on stage, or worse, saw it on the news, he’d be losing his mind right about now. So yeah, thank fuck for kangaroos.

They’re holed up in a hospital in Sydney, trying to keep the press away from Eddie. Jeff and Ben hover near Eddie’s bed, Gareth standing as close to the door as he can, arms crossed and eyes firmly fixed on the floor. The atmosphere is uncomfortably tense.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay then. I mean, as long as you’re sorry—”

“Gareth,” Jeff interrupts. Always the peacemaker.

“Don’t ‘Gareth’ me, man. I’ve been saying for months, for fucking years, we need to slow down before one of us gets hurt. And here we are. But hey, I’m just the drummer, no one fucking listens to me. Or any of us for that matter. Just him.” He gesticulates at Eddie.

Steve feels like an interloper and it’s a little uncomfortable; he’s got no desire to be the Yoko Ono in this situation but he’s not leaving until Eddie tells him to. His eyes drift back to Eddie who’s staring out into the Sydney skyline. The fierce bruise on the left side of his face has come out in anger now, gauze and tape covering stitches. It makes his heart fucking ache.

Steve had been there at the edge of the stage watching the show when Eddie wobbled and went loose-limbed, watched him just drop, the sickening snap back of his head as he hit the drum riser. Ben had got to him first, Jeff signalling for help, while Gareth stood behind the drums, frozen. He had looked terrified. Steve stood there watching helplessly, heart in his throat the whole time.

Eddie’s eyes go wide with panic. “Shit. Wayne.”

“Taken care of,” Steve tells him. “Called him a few hours ago. He’s fine. Getting your room ready as we speak.”

“Press too,” Jeff chips in. “You don’t need to worry about anything, it’s all taken care of man.”

“Shouldn’t need to be,” mutters Gareth.

Jeff sighs, “Jesus Christ, man, will you quit it?”

Gareth finally looks up, first at Jeff, and finally at Eddie. But there’s no anger there. Steve can see the worry in his eyes and he gets it. He’s spent years of his life worrying about bad things happening to his friends and being powerless to do anything about it. It fucking sucks.

Ben puts his arm around Gareth, leading him outside. “Let’s go rustle up snacks, dude, I’m fucking starving.”

Eddie picks at the edge of the tape holding the IV in the back of his hand. “Well, that went well.”

“Hey,” says Jeff, shaking Eddie’s ankle to get his attention. “He’s not angry, okay? He’s just scared. We all were, but… you know what he’s like. He’s our sensitive little flower.”

A little ghost of a smile settles on Eddie’s lips and it unlocks something in Steve, eases the worry just a tiny bit.

“Yeah, I know. I am sorry, you know? I didn’t want this to happen, man. I just… I just thought it was the right thing to do for us. The tour. All of it.”

Jeff sighs. “Listen, when we get back, a few things need to change. Firstly, we’re taking a fucking break. A long one. We’re all burned out.”

Eddie nods softly. “Of course.”

“And we are never doing a tour this long again. Non-negotiable. Strict date limits going forward.”

“Absolutely.”

“And one last thing.” Jeff shifts uncomfortably. “He didn’t say it the right way but… Gareth wasn’t wrong. About no one listening to us. To Phil, specifically, not listening to us.”

Steve knows Eddie has a near-pathological fear of losing everything, but he’s since learned that their manager, Phil, has preyed upon it, tapping into the fear, pushing for more albums, more interviews and appearances, and longer tours. And Eddie just can’t say no. “You never know when it will stop,” he told him once.

Steve would love to get his fucking hands on Phil right about now.

“He’s got to go.”

And Eddie agrees, just like that, because it’s Jeff. To the public, it’s Eddie’s band, but to everyone who truly knows them, it’s Jeff who keeps them together. It makes Steve smile to think about the nerdy kid from high school, comparing him to this man who stands at Eddie’s side in front of thousands, night after night, confidence oozing from him.

The door clicks open, and Ben wanders in with a Coke, Gareth slinking in behind him. Gareth shuffles forward and Eddie reaches up with his free hand, and Steve finds himself letting out a huge breath when Gareth takes it.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Gareth says, softly.

“I know. I know man. I was an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

Steve is expecting a snappy comeback, but Eddie’s starting to wilt, and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I think we should let Eddie get some rest,” he says. “Long flight tomorrow.”

The boys say their goodbyes, and Steve pulls his chair as close to the side of the bed as he can manage. Eddie smiles at him, their fingers entwined.

“Close enough there?” Eddie says, smiling fondly.

“No,” he replies, smiling back. He never wants to let Eddie out of his sight again. “How you doing?”

Eddie drops his head back onto his pillow. “I feel like shit.”

“Maybe I’ll need to move to LA to keep an eye on you.”

A soft blush blooms across Eddie’s cheeks. “Maybe you do,” he says shyly.

“Go to sleep then. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As Eddie drifts off, Steve thinks about how to tell Robin he’s moving to LA.

#corrodedcoffinfest #eddie munson #steve harrington #corroded coffin #ccf warmup: Taxed #steddie fanfiction #corroded coffin fanfiction

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xoxoladyaz · 4 months

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Krampus Baby

Me: we should write a cute little holiday blurb to publish on Christmas Eve, maybe something Hallmark-y, maybe some mistletoe -

Also Me: KRAMPUS EDDIE KRAMPUS EDDIE KRAMPUS EDDIE

So that's what we've got for you today, my lovelies!

CW: BDSM, allusions to punishment, brief descriptions of sex, implied future monsterfucking

“Babe, this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Oh, really? And what exactly does this look like, Eddie?!” Steve stood in the doorway to Eddie’s all-purpose-game-room-slash-music-studio-slash-office and glared at him, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

Eddie shot a frantic look at the guys. Gareth and Phil were very conveniently looking elsewhere (the traitors). Jeff, who was the only one brave enough to make eye contact with Eddie, just shook his head slowly. “You’re on your own, dude.”

Well, shit.

The truth is, Eddie knew he was the only person to blame for the situation he’d found himself in. But in his defense, it’s not like there’s a manual that you get when you become a Krampus that says “hey, here’s how you tell your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner/spouse/whatever that you’re a Krampus, meaning that you spend all of Christmas Eve travelling around your assigned region and birching people that Santa/Jesus/someone says needs to be scared onto the straight and narrow.”

Well. Maybe he could have just led with that and gone from there?

Fuck, this would have been so much easier if he’d just agreed to be a Santa but no, his dramatic gay eighteen-year-old born-in-the-North-Pole ass just had to pick the more flamboyant career option. And sure, it was fun for a while – he’d always had a flair for theatrics and performing and every December 24 he gave the performance of a lifetime – but after about ten years of birching undeserving creeps he’d realized hey, maybe something like this could be fun the other 364 days of the year with humans he actually liked (or, ya know, that he at least thought were hot and wanted to get off with.)

And so Eddie the Krampus became Eddie Munson, training Dom at the Hellfire Club, and after twenty-seven years of walking this earth, he finally felt like everything in his life had fallen into place. Naturally that’s when he met Steve Harrington, a bratty little prince with perfect hair and an even more perfect ass and fell madly in love – far past the point of no return, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. He’d never really given a lot of serious thought to love or dating or anything like that because, you know, the whole Krampus thing, but from the moment he laid eyes on Steve his entire world had shifted to orbit around his beautiful, delightfully dorky, somewhat clueless human. Even more incredibly, Steve seemed to feel the same way because he'd given Eddie a key to his house after only four weeks of dating and happily reorganized his home so Eddie could have his own space and fuck, Eddie was going to marry this human and make him immortal and traipse all around the world with him until it was time for him the next generation of Krampus’ to take over.

(Krampusses? Krampusi? Krampussies? There really wasn’t a great plural form of his job title, was there?)

Right, it was a great plan, no, it was a perfect plan, because nothing could be better than almost-eternity with Steve. There was just one teeny tiny minor flaw with his plan, that being the fact that he, uh, forgot to tell Steve.

And now it was December 24th, and Eddie and the guys had finally gotten home from a long night of birching (which wasn’t really fun anymore now that Eddie got to punish someone he loved in a very, very fun way almost daily) and were unwinding with a beer when Steve had stormed in – Steve, who was asleep when Eddie left.

Steve, who was now seeing Eddie in his Krampus form for the first time (along with Jeff and Gareth and Phil). Steve, who looked angrier than the time that Eddie tried to experiment with forks in all of the electrical outlets in their house.

Steve, who was probably the first human to ever cause a Krampus nightmares.

“I can’t believe this. I seriously cannot fucking believe this, Eddie - ”

“Look, baby, I know this looks kind of crazy,” Eddie started slowly, extremely conscious of the way his horns protruded out of his hair, of the soot on his furry legs and the loud clopping sound his cloven hooves made as they tapped nervously on the floor. (He’d never felt bad about how he looked in this form; hell, he even thought he looked kind of hot. Not everyone can pull off the whole “burning-red-eyes-and-weirdly-long-tongue” thing like he could. But now that he found himself caught in Steve’s fiery gaze, he wanted nothing more than to disappear into a tiny ball, to make Steve forget that he’s ever looked like this.) “And I was meaning to tell you, I really was, but - ”

“Oh, really?” Steve scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Eddie even further. “You were meaning to tell me that you were punishing other people, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“ – wouldn’t believe me anyways, I mean, most people don’t believe in Krampus – wait, what?” Eddie cut off as Steve’s words worked their way into his brain. “I – what?”

“You heard me,” Steve scoffed again. “You just forgot to tell me you’re punishing other people? Even though we’ve been exclusive for almost a year? Even though you moved into my house?!”

“I – Steve, wait, it’s not like that - ”

“Oh, really,” Steve repeated himself, “so you didn’t spend Christmas Eve running around and whipping people who aren’t me?”

Eddie shot another look at the guys, all of whom looked as shocked as Eddie felt. (Except for Gareth, that little fucker was grinning like this was the funniest thing he’d ever witnessed.) “Steve, it’s not - ”

“It’s not like what, Eddie? It’s not like you threw a fit the one time someone else tried to Dom me but apparently that doesn’t go both ways! Apparently, I have to share you! You better not be fucking them, Eddie Munson,” Steve seethed, “because I swear to God – ”

“No, no, no! Steve, I wouldn’t, I would never,” Eddie raced out, cautiously stepping closer to his boyfriend. “And it’s not – it’s not like us, okay, it’s literally just punishment and nightmares and stuff. Most of them won’t even remember me tomorrow!”

“Oh, but some will?”

“I – maybe?”

“What Eddie is trying to say,” Jeff saved him by jumping in, “is that this is just a job for us, man. It’s literally just a job. We really don’t get that sort of enjoyment out of it. Hell, most of us aren’t even in the lifestyle outside of this.”

“Yeah, Eddie’s just weird,” Gareth snickered, although he sobered somewhat when Eddie turned to glare at him.

“He loves you, man. He wouldn’t cheat,” Jeff finished. “That’s not what this is.”

Steve huffed, although the crease in his brow had softened somewhat. “You’re really a Krampus, then? And the horns and shit are real?”

“Yeah – yeah, super real, see?” Eddie said, grabbing hold of his horns and yanking them as hard as he could. Ouch. “This is just my Krampus form. I, uh, don’t wear it out all that often.”

“But you have horns.”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie replied nervously.

Steve’s face went through a few emotions before settling on angry. “You mean I could have been holding onto your horns the entire time we’ve been fucking?”

Eddie heard the sound of someone choking loudly behind him, but he didn’t have the brain space to care about that; in fact, the only brain space he had was completely overrun by images of Steve on his back, hands gripped around Eddie’s horns as Eddie drove him further and further into their bed. “I, uh - ”

“Well,” Steve cut off his blabbering with a cold look, “since it’s Christmas Eve and all, I might as well do a little punishing of my own.” He turned on his heel and stomped out of the doorway, pausing briefly to yell back over his shoulder. “You’re sleeping on the couch!”

“BABE!” Eddie whined back, stomping his hoof on the ground. “Until when?!?!”

“Until I say so!” Steve hollered as he disappeared out of view.

“That went well,” Gareth said drily once Steve was out of earshot. The sound of their bedroom door slamming echoed into Eddie’s man-cave and all four Krampus’ winced.

“Yeah, good luck getting out of that one, man,” Phil said, and with a nod he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Gareth snorted and followed suit, leaving Eddie and Jeff standing alone.

“Honestly, I really think it could have gone worse. You might need to speed up the timeline on that ring, though.” Jeff clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Unless you have another plan.”

“Oh,” Eddie replied slowly, quietly, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. “I have a plan, all right.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t worry me at all,” Jeff rolled his eyes. “It’s your funeral, man.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hummed, thinking about the brand new switch he’d purchased for Steve – one of his many, many gifts for the man. “At least I’ll die doing what I love.”

“And that is?”

Eddie smirked even wider. “Why, punishing Steve.”

#let me know if you wanna see steve get punished #because I am having some THOUGHTS let me tell you #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie holiday fic

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Star Child Part 6

Yeah...I’m going to hold out a little bit longer on who Steve’s ACTUAL security is going to be. Next chapter though. But we get to meet the indomitable Corroded Coffin manager this time.

For the next few chapters Eddie and Steve will be dealing with separate shit so the angst will be high, but have no fear Happily Ever After is the end game. I promise.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Steve pulled into the Motel 6 parking lot to find a woman waiting for him. She was dressed in a black suit with a pale blue button down. Her long hair was pulled back in a neat pony tail. Steve knew that this was his security.

He got out the car and grabbed his bag from his trunk. He walked over to her. “Hellfire Security I assume?”

She nodded. “You’ve got good instincts. That will help. I’m Janice Montgomery.” She stuck out her hand.

Steve shook it. “The CEO, I’m impressed.”

She laughed. “I was in the area and needed to go west, so I figured we could make the trek together.”

Steve sighed in relief. That made better sense. He hated being treated differently. “Works for me.”

“I booked us two rooms and scoped out the area,” she said. “So we’ll be good tonight. Then tomorrow we’ll begin the drive out to LA.”

Steve blinked. “We’re driving?”

Janice smiled. “Your manager, Robin Buckley told me you’re afraid of flying?”

He ducked his head and blushed. He scratched his cheek. “Bad experience flying to Europe for the first time. So I avoid it when I can.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “She also said you don’t mind staying at bigger hotels, but prefer places like this?”

Steve nodded. “I’ve been told by other security teams that they’re not as secure, but...”

“But people fawning over you makes you uncomfortable?” Janice suggested.

He nodded again.

“Happens to the best of them,” she said softly. She squeezed his shoulder.

Steve sighed in relief.

“Let’s get to bed and we’ll start first thing in the morning.”

“Is seven too early?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re a teen idol? Because I thought there was a law that your lot didn’t get up before noon if they could get away with it.”

Steve laughed. “I wake up at 6am most days to go for a run. Or if I’m home in LA a swim. I don’t understand how people can sleep that late.”

She shook her head. “Usually partying until three or four in the morning. Which I understand you don’t do.”

He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Under contract to not get into any trouble. So I don’t do that anymore.”

Janice raised an eyebrow at ‘anymore’ but said nothing. She would contact the label tomorrow and let them know her company would be in charge of Steve’s security. Until then. She had herself an unusual client. And she loved those.

The next day at the Corroded Coffin sound check it was a little awkward.

Jeff and Brian tuned their instruments and kept throwing glances at each other as if they were daring the other to broach the subject.

“You guys are wusses,” Gareth finally bit out. “What these morons are trying not say is that we’re sorry about last night. We shouldn’t have made fun of Steve that way.”

Jeff sighed. “Yeah, man. You were right. We don’t know if it’s just us or if he sees other bands.”

“Especially when we were talking him up the last three days,” Brian said. “We were dicks and we’re sorry.”

Eddie huffed angrily and rubbed his eye. “I know. I just wanted tonight to end as well as it had started. And it didn’t.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, I feel that. You just keep striking out with this guy and I know you’re worried that we might have scared him away.”

Eddie threw himself back against the seat he was in and his lip twisted. “It’s not just that. I think he was trying to befriend you guys, too. Remember this is the guy that got his start in a group and now he’s solo. He travels with stage musicians. And you can’t tell me they’re always the same ones. So I think he wanted to hang with you guys too.”

The three other members of the band looked down at their shoes.

Jeff scratched the back of his neck, Gareth fiddled with his drumsticks, and Brian scuffed the floor.

“We really fucked up, didn’t we?” Brian asked after a few moments.

Eddie sighed. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know.”

They went out onto the stage for the soundcheck as their manager ran around making sure that everything was setup properly. Chrissy Cunningham was one of the best managers in the business and Corroded Coffin was happy to have her. She had been in LA meeting with their agent Dustin Henderson to make sure they didn’t accidentally cross streams over the recent tour dates.

But she had only managed to get in late last night and missed the concert but barely.

She bounced onto the stage. “Hey, guys, we might have to cancel tonight.”

All heads turned to her in shock. “The venue has changed hands since the last time we were here and I don’t like the look of the bartender or the spotter.”

“Fuck,” Gareth hissed.

“Did they at least read the rider?” Jeff asked.

“Not a Pierre or red M&M in sight,” Chrissy said dryly.

Shit. They added the fancy water and red M&Ms to make sure the venue actually read the rider. And if they weren’t there it was sure bet they didn’t read the parts on how heavy their equipment was or when the lights should go up.

Brian looked up at the rafters and grimaced. “Ew, gross.”

The other four looked up to see grease and dirt and filth clinging to the rafters.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie cursed. This was bad. “Cancel it. Find a park willing to take us with such short notice. If not, full refunds.”

Chrissy nodded. She pulled out her phone and immediately began making calls.

A roadie came up to them. “Hey, guys. We need to get this stuff off the stage, now.”

All four of them looked at each other in shock. “What do you mean?” Jeff asked.

“I just heard the owner talking to one of the waitresses and he was telling her that the guy that was supposed to repair the stage upped his price by a thousand so it never happened.”

“Shit!” Gareth hissed. He shot up from his seat and all of the band helped the roadies get their equipment off the stage and back into the bus.

“What are you doing!” the owner screamed when he saw them packing up.

“This is unsafe,” the roadie who had warned them told the guy. “I’m not having my guys get hurt because you can’t be assed to keep this place up to code.”

“I’ll sue!” the owner screamed.

“You can try,” Jeff said, “but you didn’t read our rider so, you broke contract with us first.”

The man started sputtering and a couple of the bigger roadies stood guard to prevent the man from trying to stop them.

Chrissy hung up the phone and walked over to where the man was spouting obscenities at the band.

“Mr Dallas?” she asked sweetly.

He stopped screaming and looked her over. “What can I do for you, princess?”

She smiled. “I have the health department and liquor license people on the way over here to shut you down. And I have a pretty good idea that you have been dodging your taxes, too. So the IRS will be informed as well. Have a nice day.”

Mr Dallas looked at the bartender and the two of them made a dash for the backroom, but it was too late.

The liquor license people had called the cops and they were being invaded. The band and roadies gave statements and vanished into the night, giggling and heckling the owner.

Once on the bus, Chrissy smiled. “All right, we’ve got a large park nearby that is willing to house the concert. But it’s going to be a hell of a mark up and it’s going cost a lot in merch sales too.”

The band groaned.

“And I am assuming, Chrissy the fair,” Eddie said waving his hands, “that you have already started checking up on our other venues, yes?”

She batted her eyes at him. “But of course, Eddie the Banished.” She winked and got on the phone.

“Dustin,” she greeted.

They got set up at the park and Eddie didn’t like the look of it. There was too much of a chance of people getting hurt.

He bounded up to Chrissy. “Hey, babe. I hate to add you to your already growing pile of shit you have to deal with tonight, but if you can swing it, I want extra security.”

Chrissy looked out at the growing crowd with pursed lips. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got Dustin working the other venues so I don’t have to worry about that.”

Eddie nodded. He almost felt sorry for the other venues.

Almost.

Dustin was a tough and tenacious agent and when he got going it was hard to stop the guy. It why Eddie had been with him for so many years. He knew his band was in safe hands if Henderson was talking to the venues.

Soon it was time to rock his heart out.

“Thank you everyone for being able to come to our little impromptu jam session,” Eddie said, stepping up to the mic. “The original venue was a shit show, I wouldn’t recommend it. At all. But let’s get to what you came here for!”

He started playing, turning his head to bob to the music as Gareth came in on drums.

“I want to make you mine!” he screamed into mic. “Your body next to me, Fitted together like by design. You set me free!”

The crowd went wild. Eddie working out his anger and frustration at the way everything ended last night. The way their previous venue had shat all over everything because they were greedy bastards. The way that Chrissy had to step in and take over because without her, they probably would have played and gotten hurt.

All that rage, hurt, and anger channeled into his music and it pushed the crowd to a fevered pitch.

Finally when the note was played and the final encore performed, Eddie felt at peace. That was the real reason he did this. It was a way for him to channel his emotions constructively.

He loved it.

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: @thegingerrapunzel @artiststarme @yes-im-your-mom @tiny-enthusiast @scheodingers-muppet @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddieassheg0es @nelotegreitic @anaibis @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @novelnovella @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @gleek4twd @gregre369 @whatthemeepever @cutepumpkin4 @spectrum-spectre @livelaughlexa @ohlook-afrog @linkydinky06 @goodolefashionedloverboi @moonshadows-13 @eboyawstenn @avacrebs @bejeweledbaby

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #rockstar au #song fic #ladykailtiha writes

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athena-writes-i-guess · 1 year

Note

#32

hiyaa! ive sent in requests to so many accs but no ones replied idk wether they are busy or not but anyways, i was wondering if you could do a #32 where y/n and eddie have secretly liked eachother for years but eddie always annoys y/n by flirting with her even though gareth is her brother. one day corroded coffin are practicing in y/ns garage whilst shes watching tv eddie comes in and start’s annoying her and flirts a little saying “y’know you love it” and all that shii. she starts to get angry and tells him to stop cuz its not fair on gareth if anything happened and but eddie being eddie just keeps pushing until eventually they kiss. gareth can walk in on them if you would like to add that i dont mind :) sorry if it was a rubbish explanation im terrible at writing stuff lol. thank you 💗

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Gareth sister!Reader

Prompt: "How mad would you be if I kissed you?"

A/N: Hello friend! Thank you so so much for this super fun request! I had a blast writing this! I think it's made me want to explore more sibling!reader x Eddie fics! I really hope that this came out the way you wanted and that you like it as much as I do! Thank you so much!

You were sitting sideways out of your open driver's side door reading a book as your Iron Maiden cassette played loudly out of your car's speakers. You sighed as you checked your watch and tapped your foot in annoyance. They were late again.

You’re Gareth’s older sister, you had graduated 2 years ago but you helped out by picking up him and some of his friends from school everyday after your shifts at work. Today was Hellfire night so you knew it was a late night, but they should have been out 15 minutes ago. You sighed again. Gareth would owe you big if he made you wait any longer, you were doing him a favor after all. You’d make him do your chores for the rest of the week if he didn’t show up in the next 5 minutes and just the thought brought a small smile to your face.

“A beautiful smile on a beautiful girl.” You heard from right in front of you. You jumped and let out a startled gasp at the noise, causing the person to laugh. You looked up and found Eddie Munson.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, you’d be lying if you said that it was just from the surprise. You had harbored a crush on Eddie ever since the 8th grade, having been in the same class with him since kindergarten. But the two of you had run in different circles and you never thought he would be interested in you. Hell, he had barely even started talking to you until Gareth joined his D&D campaign as a freshman.

You had no idea though, that Eddie had been too nervous to talk to you until the day you walked into the drama room to pick up your little brother that first time. He had thought you were beautiful and way too smart for him and never thought he’d get a reason to speak to you, all until Gareth. Now he made it a point to talk to you any chance that he could. After school when you picked up your brother, at your job at the record shop, at your house during Corroded Coffin practices. He made it his goal every time.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart.” He chuckled, dimples on full display.

“It’s okay, Munson.” You said with a small smile. “Where’s my loser of a brother?” You asked, noticing the other boys we suspiciously absent.

“He had to get something from his locker and Jeff went with him.” Eddie responded, “But how’s the prettiest girl in Hawkin’s doing?” He flirted, you rolled your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. Eddie was a notorious flirt. You wanted to flirt back. But he’s Gareth’s friend and bandmate, you couldn’t do that to him. What if you dated and broke up, and made it uncomfortable for your brother to even have band practice? No you couldn’t do that to him. So you brushed Eddie off every time.

“I don’t know, you should go find her and ask.” You shot back, looking from him back to your book. You heard him tut at your response.

“Come on sweetheart. You know I mean you. When are you gonna let me take you out?” He asked. You looked up at that, that was new. Normally he just flirted, maybe joked about kissing you. But never actually asking you out.

You felt your mouth drop open slightly in surprise, much to Eddie’s amusement. “You know we can’t do that Eddie.” You said simply, gesturing your head towards Gareth as he finally walked out of the school towards your car.

Eddie looked over his shoulder and smiled, “Come on, he won’t mind.” He said as he turned back.

“You don’t know that. We just can’t Eddie.” You sighed. “Hurry up Gareth or I’ll make you do my chores for the rest of the week!” You called, pulling yourself back into the car fully and closing the door. “See you around Eddie.” You said through the open window.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” He smiled, undeterred.

“See you for practice tomorrow Eddie, good game!” Gareth said as he walked up and opened the passenger door to your car.

“See you all then.” Eddie said with a knowing smile as he backed away from your car, sending you a little wave before putting his hands in his pockets and walking towards his van.

~~~

It was the next afternoon, you had just finished your chores for the weekend and decided to watch a movie in the living room while your parents were out and the boys were practicing in the garage.

They had been going for hours and currently it sounded like Gareth and Jeff were going over a section of the song together, trying to tighten their parts. The door to the garage opened in the kitchen and you turned to look at who it was, sighing when you saw Eddie. He smiled brightly at you as he closed the door and sauntered over, plopping down on the couch right next to you and placing his arm on the couch behind you.

“Afternoon, beautiful.” He beamed with a wink.

“Eddie.” You sighed, determined to ignore him as you stared at the TV.

“How are you doing today, pretty girl?” He asked.

“Fine.”

“You look great today.” He said, “Just like every day.”

“Eddie.” You said in a warning tone.

“That’s my name sweetheart. I love the way you say it.” He cooed as he leaned into you more.

“Eddie, you have to stop.” You said firmly, looking into his eyes. He was much closer than he had ever been before and you’re senses we flooded with him. You could smell his cologne and cigarettes, a combo that normally wouldn’t smell good to you, but for some reason it was intoxicating. His long curls were tickling the exposed skin of your shoulder, causing goosebumps to raise on your body. And you could almost melt under the intense look he was giving you, full of an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“You know you love it sweetheart.” He said with a sly smile. “I see the way you smile to yourself when you think no one’s looking. You like when I flirt with you.” He said simply, his smile growing wider at the dumbstruck look on your face at being found out. “And I like you. So I’m going to keep doing it, until you kiss me or slap me.”

“I -wha- are you- I-” You tried to start. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Munson.” You finally got out, pulling your eyes away from him and back to the movie as you felt the heat rise to your face. You didn’t want him to know that he was right, you loved when he flirted with you. You wanted to flirt back, but you were trying to be a good sister.

“Yes you do, princess.” He said, raising his hand up to your chin to pull your face to look at him. “Let me take you out. We could be great.”

I furrowed your brows in distress, your resolve crumbling as you tried to be strong. “We can’t!” you hissed quietly. “Think of Gareth. We could hurt him.” You pleaded.

“We won’t. I promise.” He cooed, leaning into you. His lips were so close that you could feel his warm breath on yours. “How mad would you be if I kissed you?” He breathed.

“Pissed.” You breathed. But you leaned in, crashing your lips onto his, eliciting a surprised noise out of the metalhead. Eddie recovered quickly, kissing you back feverishly as he pressed himself into you as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling the two of you close so there was no space between you. You ran your hands through his curls, tugging lightly, causing the brunette to moan into your mouth.

You pulled away, breathless, after a few moments. “We have to stop.” You gasped, you opened your eyes to lock with Eddie’s hooded ones.

“Sure, sure, sweetheart.” He mused with a smile before his lips were on yours again. It was your turn to moan this time as he kissed you hungrily.

You let yourselves get lost in each other, ignoring the world around you as you gave into your feelings for Eddie. All the years of pining for each other led to this. And it felt so good, so right to be like this with him. And for a moment you forgot why you had been avoiding this for so long.

“Fucking finally.” You heard from behind you, followed by a laugh.

You pulled apart with a gasp and spun around in your seat to see Gareth and Jeff standing in the entrance to the living room. You hadn’t even heard the garage door open.

“Honestly it took you long enough.” Gareth teased. “Now will you stop being so weird around each other and just go out?” Your mouth fell open in surprise as you looked between the two boys and Eddie.

“See? I told you he’d be fine, sweetheart.” Eddie laughed, pecking your cheek affectionately.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie @becca-alexa @catacina

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star-girl69 · 11 months

Text

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of death and murder, swearing, alcohol, crying, kissing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty - A Union That is Happening Again

—-

2021-

You weren’t planning to go to the reunion. You never were, but now that you’re in New Jersey, and you’re not really ready to leave- you go to the mall and find a dress. Light and silvery, one that makes you think of Doomcoming.

You shake the thought out of your mind, taking a deep breath, and walking into the school, hearing the low sounds of music playing in the background.

Taissa and Shauna stand by the enterance to the gym, that place you remember so well- that last pep rally, years spent playing dodgeball in this place coming back to you.

“Y/N,” Shauna smiles. “I thought you were going back to the city?”

You shrug and ruffle your dress. “I was here. And close to the mall. Besides, it was already kinda late, so why not?”

Shauna nods, and Taissa looks you up and down. seemingly remembering something.

“Uh… are you alright, Shauna?” Tai asks.

Shauna takes a breath. “How is it possible this is the most scared I’ve been all day?”

You and Taissa laugh.

“Right?” Taissa changes her voice, “‘Oh, my God, hey girl. Hey! It’s been forever. What have you been up to?’”

Shauna pretends to look around, thinking. “Um, yeah. You know, gardening, dismembering my lovers corpse,” she smiles.

“Okay,” Taissa says, placing her arms around both of you, making you face the gym doors.

Suddenly, the doors you had came through opened.

Natalie throws her hands up, a purse in her hands, wearing a dark one-shoulder dress, and her signature lipstick.

“Wait up,” she says, smiling slightly.

“Wow!” Taissa exclaims, and you all laugh.

“I said I would come,” Natalie shrugs. “I made a deal, okay? All right? Let’s fucking do this.”

Shauna and Natalie open the doors, and all of you file in.

Immediately, all of the eyes in the room settle on the four of you.

You’re the survivors, the champions, the girls who came back and were never supposed to.

It feels vain, but you can’t help but let a smug smile settle onto your face, adjusting you’re already low-cut dress.

Misty hound you and walks over, and you all carve a natural path through the crowd, the girls who weren’t supposed to live, until you finally reach the table Jeff had saved for you.

“I can’t believe you’re all actually here,” Misty smiles, wearing a suit with bright red lipstick. “This is gonna be so much fun! Okay, let’s get a picture. Who can take a picture?” she asks, holding out her phone.

“Muriel! Muriel, get over here,” someone shouts, running over to you, a wine glass in your hands.

“Allie,” you mutter to yourself, realizing who it is.

You awkwardly place yourself in between Taissa and Natalie, Taissa thankfully wrapping an awkward arm around your waist, so the photo looks a little more connected.

“Photo of the year! Come on, nobody blink!” Allie shouts.

The click of a camera, a flash, and it’s over, leaving a spot in your vision.

—-

You spend the rest of your night awkwardly catching up with old acquaintances, until you finally slip away from a particularly horrible conversation with Gordon Rivers, slipping out into the hallway, where you find Natalie.

She’s staring in front of the trophy case you know holds pictures of the Martinez family. The trophy case where there’s a picture of you, too. A shrine to everything that happened in 1996.

Your heels click across the floor as you walk over to her, partly because you want to see him one more time.

“You’ll only make yourself sad,” you mumble after a moment.

“Yeah, well,” she mutters. “He… he really killed himself,” she says say after a moment.

“I know,” you whisper, thinking of the boy in the wilderness, the one you had once called your best friend- the one you had survived so much with.

There will always be a difference between anyone else and Travis, and the surviving girls from the crash.

All of you know each other in ways that no one could ever possibly know. All of you have burned in the exact same way, have the same scars, the same bad dreams, the same memories.

You all know hunger in a way no one else could ever know. You all know death in a way no one else could ever know.

All of you have stared into the jaws of death, been selfish and unafraid, and thrown someone else into it.

“Y/N…” she starts, but she can’t really seem to finish it. But you know.

“It’s alright, Natalie. I know.”

And there’s so much unspoken between the two of you, so much, so much history and love and things you could never even speak about without feeling like you were gonna throw up.

You can tell she still loves you like she did in the wilderness, and you still love her too. You feel it in your bones and in your organs, like a rotten and festering clump of cells, like cancer, like something is deeply wrong with you.

But something is deeply wrong with all of you.

"Natalie…” you start, her name feeling so familiar on your lips. “We weren’t meant for this,” you whisper, gesturing to this New Jersey life, settling done and getting jobs, being together.

Her bottom lips curls up. "Jesus Christ," she scoffs. But you know her too well, and she knows that. “Why the fuck would you say that?” she asks, hurt, but you have to say it before it kills you.

“Look at us before the crash. Look at us in the wilderness. Look at us now, Natalie.”

“You're insane. You don't even know what you're saying-”

You grab her hand and press it against your chest.

“I love you, Natalie." Tears fall down your face, and she looks away from you. “I have loved you for long I don't know what it's like to love anyone else- I don't even know how to love myself. I would have died for you out there, and we both know it, we were ready to die, together, and that's not- love isn't suffering, Natalie, and we had already experienced so much suffering that we didn't know the difference.”

She finally meets your eyes.

“Once I thought that peace and violence were the same thing with you. But now I know they're not. And I can't watch you survive, not when I know that both of us could be living.”

When she finally speaks, its a whisper, hurt and dejected.

“I love you so you don't have to love yourself.”

You smile. “Natalie.”

She grabs your face in her hands and kisses you, and all you can taste is your own tears and your own disgust with yourself, bubbling up inside of you. You kiss her back, hard, because some part of you knows this is the last time, some part of you knows you will always love her.

A part of you will always be the girl from the wilderness. Already scarred by the life she had lived before, blood already festering up in her hands, only to dump more fresh blood on her, so much it was dripping from your hands. A part of you will always be that girl from the wilderness. The girl who saw it before it happened, the girl who has felt it all her life, the girl who got used up and was left with nothing.

You will always be the girl in the wilderness.

You will always be it.

“Natalie,” you whisper again, finally pulling away for air, and she's crying now, and there's a million things you want to say to her.

You want her to hold you like she did in 2019, like she did in the wilderness, in 1996.

“I want us to live," you breathe. “I want us to live.”

She finally meets your eyes.

“And we don't know how to, and we'll never know how to live if we don't do it on our own. I love you, Nat. I love you and I want you to live, and I want to never hear a thing about it.”

—-

Shauna brings over shots to the table, passing one out to everybody, and you take it gratefully. Eager for this night to be over.

“Ooh, shooters! I’ve never done one of these before,” Misty says.

You have a distinct memory of doing these in a bar with Natalie, but you don’t look at her.

“Good call. I swear to God, if one more person tells me I’ve been in their thoughts and prayers… I will…” Taissa laughs, trailing off.

“I wanna make a toast,” Natalie suddenly says, standing up and holding out the shot glass. “I old friends,” she says, and everyone tilts their heads back.

The burn is nice, a good distraction.

“Can I have everybody’s attention, please?” Allie announces from the stage, her voice scratchy from years of using cigarettes. Someone boos from the crowd, people laugh. The smile drops from her face. “Shut the fuck up, Doug.”

You let out a small laugh, almost choking on your own spit.

“You’re a grown man.” She clears her throat. “WordDefinition.net defines a ‘reunion’ as ‘a union that is happening again. A convention of friends, relatives, or associates after a period of separation.’ And, indeed, a graduating class will forever be united by their shared highschool experience. But as the Wiskayok High… Class of ‘96… we are united by something even greater.”

You get a flash of antlers dripping in blood, and you have to rub your eyes to get the image out.

“Together, we went through a tragedy, and tonight, together, I’m hopeful we can finally, truly heal.”

The screen behind her changes from the schools logo to a picture of the team.

Everyone around the table exchanges wide-eyed glances, and you have to look away, remembering what had happened to some of those girls.

“But in order to move forward, we must first look back.”

“Only Time” starts playing, and the lights dim, a picture of Taissa carrying a soccer ball showing up on the screen.

“Oh, God,” you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut, hiding behind your hands.

“They were our classmates,” Allie continues, “Pur teachers, our friends. But they were more than that. They were strong. They were courageous. They were, and they remain, a true inspiration.”

A picture of you flashes up on the screen, a cropped photo of the school paper club in ‘96, leaving only you and someone’s arm around your shoulders.

Finally, your picture fades out, and Jackie’s pops onto the screen.

You watch Shauna take a deep breath in.

“Now, traditionally, we’d end tonight with a dance from our class king and queen. But while she isn’t here with us, I know that this is what Jackie would have wanted.” She points to your table. “Jeff! Shauna! Get up here!”

Lights flash, and Shauna mutters something that sounds like “oh, no, no, no, no,” even while everyone claps and Allie shouts encouragement.

After a moment, Jeff stands and offers her his hand, whispering something to her, and they make their way to the dance floor.

You lock eyes with Taissa, and it seems pained, but she starts clapping slowly, and you join her.

“Dance, dance, dance!” Allie shouts, and the cheering dies down, and “A Kiss From a Rose” starts playing.

A canon goes off, and confetti explodes all around them. Yellow and blue.

They whisper to each other on the dance floor, and you force an awkward smile onto your face, before deciding enough is enough.

You’ve had your fill of adventure, but you’re too close to the woods. You need to be in the city again. You need to be away from the wilderness. You need to push down the rot inside of you, fill yourself with monotony and Chinese food from the place two blocks away.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

#yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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itsthewritergal · 2 years

Text

I don’t bite - Eddie Munson x reader

TW: Bullying, insecure Eddie (if you squint!!) that’s all I can think of but let me know :)

So this can either be read as a stand alone or as a part 2 to Freak

Enjoy :) xx

“Awh look the freaks sit together” One of the cheerleaders laughed as they walked into the chemistry room,

“I’d stay away, you might catch something” Jason smirked looking Y/N up and down, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat

“Says the guy who cried when his mum couldn’t come to his basket ball game” Eddie mocked with a sarcastic grin

“Did he really?” Y/N said turning to Eddie with a smile on her face

“That’s right isn’t it Jason, full on breakdown” He smirked, challenging Jason to say something else

“Freak” He spat turning around and taking his seat with the other jocks, Eddie leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin on his face

“You’re pretty cool Eddie” Y/N babbled the compliment before she could even register what she was saying

“Thank you sweetheart, you’re not bad either” He grinned “Well for a freak of course” He added with a chuckle,

“Are you sure you don’t mind me joining tonight?” She asked,

“Of course not, like I said the more freaks the better”

Y/N quickly silenced herself as the teacher walked in, Eddie sat beside her watching intently as she wrote down almost every word that came out of the teachers mouth. He was enamoured with her already, shaking his head he tried to block her out of his mind but it didn’t work. His gaze just kept returning to her.

Eddie walked Y/N to each of her classes, sitting next to her in every single one she had with him. By the time they finished their last class of the day Y/N was consumed by excitement at the thought of watching the game which Eddie seemed so obsessed with.

“Do you need any help setting anything up?” Y/N asked

“I’ve got it” Eddie said gently, as he began setting up the table before everyone else arrived, Y/N stood in the corner of the room watching Eddie intently.

“You can sit down, it’s ok I won’t bite” He chuckled pulling out a chair for her to sit on

“Thanks” She said quietly, Eddie disappeared for a moment and then came back with an intricately designed chair

“What’s that?” Y/N asked

“It’s my dungeon Master throne” Eddie grinned “The drama department made it but never used it so I claimed it” He said

“It’s amazing,” Y/N smiled

“I’m glad you like it” Eddie said sitting himself down next to Y/N, he took in a deep breath “Just remember if you don’t want to stay just say the word and I’ll stop and drive you home ok?” He said suddenly feeling insecure in the little game he loved so much,

“You’d stop the game for me?” Y/N said sitting crossed legged

“Sure” Eddie said, although he knew if anyone else had heard him admit that they would have almost definitely lost their minds, especially Dustin. Y/N thanked Eddie with a blush spreading across her face.

“Hey guys!” Dustin grinned pushing the door wide open “Y/N, you made it!” He beamed

“We were scared Eddie would scare you off” Lucas laughed

“Would I ever scare off such a pretty young maiden” Eddie grinned putting on his Dungeon Master voice, “Now let’s begin” He said.

Y/N listened intently as Eddie began setting the scene, it reminded her of the stories she wrote in her spare time.There was a part of her which was obsessed with the way the words just rolled off of his tongue, it was almost magic the way he immersed everyone into his own story. It was just incredible.

— — —

“So what did you think?” Dustin asked as the others began packing up

“It was fun! I really enjoyed it” Y/N admitted with a grin

“Eddie’s an amazing DM isn’t he?” Dustin said,

“He’s certainly got a way with words” Y/N admitted turning over her shoulder to watch Eddie as he chatted to Gareth and Jeff who both looked as though they were in deep conversation

“It’s not every day he lets someone into the inner circle, he must think you’re pretty cool” Dustin grinned, Y/N knew what he was insinuating but didn’t believe one word of it

“I don’t know about that” Y/N admitted

“I do, he’s a pretty amazing person when you get to know him” Dustin said “You’re right there” Y/N agreed,

“You ready to go?” Eddie asked coming up behind Y/N, and slotting himself in next to Y/N so that their shoulders were touching

“I can walk, it’s ok” Y/N said quietly

“I’m not letting you walk home alone, I’ve got you” Eddie said with a kind smile

“Thank you” Y/N said as Eddie walked her out of the school after waving goodbye to the rest of the guys.

Eddie hadn’t ever driven so carefully in his life, ordinarily with anyone else in the car he would’ve still driven like normal but suddenly with Y/N sitting in his front seat he felt a wave of concern over her wellbeing.

“I really enjoyed today” Y/N admitted quietly as Eddie turned down the radio

“You did?” Eddie asked a smirk appearing on his face

“Yeah I did, I mean apart from all the freak stuff obviously, but I really enjoyed it” She said

“You’re not a freak, I know what those people can do to someone like you, but you’ve got me now” he said sincerely

“You know you’re pretty good at story telling” Y/N said changing the subject,

“I am?” Eddie said

“Yeah you are” Y/N grinned instructing Eddie to turn into her road. The moment he parked the car Y/N sat for a second “I don’t suppose you want to come in? Mum’s making dinner and I’m sure there is enough to feed the whole town, plus we can get started on that Chemistry homework” She said

“You want to invite me in?” Eddie said choosing his words carefully

“Please,” Y/N said with a smile “I mean obviously you don’t have to, I know we’ve only just met and I just was think—”

“It would be rude not to” He cut her off gently,

Y/N took Eddie’s hand and pulled him into her house, Eddie felt completely out of place in the perfectly decorated house, which reminded him of a story book.

“It isn’t much and we still haven’t unpacked properly but its feeling like home” Y/N explained

“Y/N is that you?” Her mother called out

“Yeah, I’ve brought a friend over” Y/N replied

“Hi darling” Her mother said walking into the living room “I’m Tammy, Y/N’s mum nice to meet you” she smiled at Eddie, it was the kind of treatment he wasn’t used to getting

“Mum this is Eddie,” Y/N said noticing Eddie’s hesitation

“You’re both home late, did something happen? Did you get lost on your way home?” She asked

“No, Eddie invited me to join him and his friends playing this D&D game” “What’s that darling?” She asked, Eddie felt his throat get dry, this was the part where Y/N’s mum told her she would never be allowed to see him again

“It’s this super cool fantasy game, Eddie writes all the stories for it!” Y/N grinned as she pulled Eddie into the kitchen and handed him a glass of water, her mother followed them

“That sounds fun! Perhaps you could write some stories for it too” She suggested

“You’re a writer?” Eddie asked

“I want to be” Y/N admitted

“It’s all she’s ever wanted” She laughed “Then you have to help me write the next campaign!” Eddie grinned

“Maybe” Y/N said shifting on her feet

“Why don’t you two go upstairs, dinner will be ready soon” She said gently

“Thanks mum!” Y/N said leading Eddie through the house

“You’re mums pretty cool” Eddie smiled as they climbed the stairs

“She likes you,”

“You sure?” Eddie said nervously

“Trust me, she likes you” Y/N grinned.

Taglist :)

@whitewineandpizzapuffs @planet-naptune @thefandomplace @sebby-staan @poguesinablanket @witch-and-a-half @nojamsonmytoast @seanh-boredom @wanniiieeee @louweasleymalfoy @missryerye @big-galaxy-chaos @barnestatic @devilsbooksworld @lovesanimals0000 @navs-bhat @saayanaaa

#Eddie fluff #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson #eddie #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie munson x reader fluff #Eddie x reader angst #Eddie x reader fluff #Eddie x reader #eddie x

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pareidoliaonthemove · 6 months

Text

An Answer

The Question: Part 2

(Part One is here.)

Virgil had been released from the medical suite, but was not cleared for duty, before Jeff summoned up the courage to confront his middle son.

Virgil’s Question deserved an answer. And it would be AN answer, Jeff didn’t have The Answer, the words to magically make things right; all he had was the truth, and the hope that they could build from there.

Virgil watched him curiously as he dragged a lounger to share the large sunshade Virgil was sprawled under, a pair of tablets on his lap as he took notes about whatever he was reading.

Neither spoke until he settled in the lounger next to his son. “How’re you feeling, Virgil?”

His son smiled. “Better than I did a week ago, worse than I normally do.”

Jeff nodded. “You were extremely sick, son. You need time to recover.”

Virgil indicated his lounger and the small table beside him, groaning under the weight of bottled drinks with various levels of liquid. “I am. I’m resting. I’m drinking. I doing everything humanly possible to speed up my recovery time.”

Jeff nodded. “I know.” He turned to face the horizon, watching the small specks of seabirds wheeling in the sky above Mateo Island. “You scared me, kiddo,” he told the birds.

He heard Virgil shift, beside him. “Dad, I …”

Jeff held up a hand. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t mean, or want, to get sick. It happens. But I’m your father. And no matter how old, how capable you are, when you’re sick …” He turned to face Virgil. “I would do anything to protect you, Virgil; you and your brothers, you are everything to me.”

Virgil started at the vehemence in his father’s tone. He stared at the older man, a little fearful. “Dad, I …” Suddenly he frowned. “Scott said I was running off at the mouth when I was sick. What did I say?”

Jeff met his eyes evenly. “Nothing that you would say any other time. But something that we need to talk about.”

Virgil sat up, “Dad, you can’t take …”

“So you were never angry at me for boarding the Zero X?” Jeff spoke across him.

Virgil jolted. “What?! What the hell …”

“Never thought I should have bailed out and let it blow? Never thought I was just playing the hero for the glory?” Jeff felt sick as he spoke the next words, “Never thought I threw you boys aside without thinking of you?”

Virgil bolted to his feet, and made it a half-dozen steps before he stopped, clearly dizzied by his sudden movement. Jeff followed him, warily as he realised his son’s shoulders were shaking. Jeff touched him gently on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Virgil, but this has obviously been festering for a long time. It’s time to clear the air.”

Virgil didn’t face him, but let himself be drawn back to the lounger. He didn’t lie back, despite his father’s gentle coaxing, and Jeff acknowledged that that was probably too vulnerable a position to be having this conversation, anyway.

He sat next to his son, shoulder to shoulder. He wanted to hug him, but feared Virgil would feel trapped.

Eventually Virgil spoke. “What did I say to you?” His voice was sad, and scared.

“You wanted to know if I thought of you boys.” Jeff’s voice was equally soft.

Virgil made a noise, a soft keening sound, that made Jeff’s heart skip a beat. Carefully he wrapped an arm around his son, and drew him closer.

“You asked if I thought of you,” Jeff said, “or if it was just a chance for me to play at being the hero again.”

Virgil convulsed against him, silent.

Jeff moved to kneel before Virgil, trapping his face between his hands, and pressing his upturned forehead to his son’s downturned. This had to be said face to face.

“Virgil. You are my son. You are my earth, my star, my moon, my everything. Same as your brothers.”

He paused, watching as Virgil’s eyes opened and widened at the words, knowing he understood the significance of the phrase. Words he had once spoken to the boys mother, a part of his wedding vow. Words that Jeff had never, ever taken lightly or in jest. Making sure Virgil understood just how serious Jeff was about what he said next.

“I knew where you boys were. All of you. I knew how dangerous that damn ship was. I knew how far spread the destruction would be. How many lives would be lost.”

His grip on his son tightened. This was the important bit. “I knew – I knew exactly where you all were. I knew you were right in the centre of the kill zone. All of you. Yes, I could have saved myself. I would have lost you. I would have lost all of you.” Jeff shook his head, his forehead rubbing against his son’s skin. “Better that I die, than you.” He closed his eyes. “I owed your mother that much, at least.”

A whimper from his son forced his eyes open. Virgil’s eyes were closed, tears running down his cheeks. Jeff pulled him off the lounger, holding him tight to himself and letting his son cleanse himself with his tears.

It took a long time, and Jeff cried silently along with him, grieving for his son’s pain.

Eventually Virgil stilled beneath him.

The tableau held.

“You thought you were going to die.” It was whispered.

Jeff nodded. “Yes. I don’t think anybody was ever more surprised than I was when I found myself alive in the Oort Cloud.”

“You didn’t say goodbye.”

It was another dagger to Jeff’s heart, but all it did was open an old, old wound. An eight-year-old wound that he had already washed bloodless with tears he could ill afford.

Jeff hugged Virgil even tighter to himself, revelling in the touch, grounding himself to the moment. “No,” he agreed. “I didn’t. And I spent eight years bitterly regretting it.”

Between getting onto the Zero-X, dealing with the Hood, recognising the scope of the imminent destruction, and deciding how to circumvent the danger, there hadn’t been time to think of it. Only scant heartbeats between the decision and the action. Was it long enough? He couldn’t tell. His mother had colluded with the GDF and he couldn’t access the footage of his last disastrous mission. Even Scott had finally been locked out.

What had his sons thought his last words were? He couldn’t remember what he had said. Had his last words been wasted on the Hood? That was a terrible legacy. He would have to do better next time.

At least he got a next time.

And speaking of which …

He pulled Virgil upright with him, both men standing, and looked his son directly in the eyes. “I didn’t say goodbye.” He held out a hand to his son. “But I can say ‘hello’.”

Notes:

Hmm, this was meant to fix what I had previously broken; but wounds of the heart just don’t mend so quickly. Realistically, these are the first steps on a long journey; but they are the first steps, and they are so often the hardest, and the most important.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#fanfic #my fanfic #thunderbirds are go #jeff tracy #virgil tracy #relationships #clearing the air

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soaringeag1e · 2 years

Text

Escape {53}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader Au

Words: 1,860

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

"This is nice." Holding the to go cup with both hands and letting the warmth seep into your body, you stole a glance at your tall friend, smiling softly.

"It is." you agree. "Sorry it's been so long since we've done this. Time just kinda…"

"Ran away from us?" Sam finishes your sentence, the two of you sharing a smile.

"Yeah. Exactly."

"It's okay." Your smile grows as Sam steps closer to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Now that you and Dean are getting married, you're truly stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"I wouldn't be so confident about that. I'm sure Dean wouldn't need much convincing to move." You smirk behind your cup, trying not to take too big of a sip as you're sure Sam's look alone will make you choke.

"Very funny." He releases you from his arms, giving you a playful shove as you laugh.

Sam takes a few more sips of his coffee as the two of you continue down the path. The morning walk was planned Christmas night and after going so long without spending time together, both Sam and yourself were excited for it.

Sadly, the winter had been a pretty dry one. Thankfully there was some snow fall around Christmas but ever since then, it's been a hit or miss. Like today, there were some snow piles, more like ice now, that hugged the edges of the road and the corners of houses, otherwise it was clear. Just cold.

"You do seem really happy, though." He notices, getting you to look over at him, your strides still matching as you walk down the path. "Like really happy. Like...back when we first met, happy." Your lips curl at the corners, the thought of how Dean makes you feel makes your face light up.

"I am." You confess the obvious, smiling up at your friend. When you see his brows raise and the cocky look in his eyes, however, your blissful smile disappears.

"Ugh...God." you roll your eyes along with your head, seeing some cars driving alongside the path on the side road.

"What?"

"Alright…" you stop in your spot, turning to Sam as he stops next to you. "Go ahead and say it."

"What?" Sam chuckles, looking at you confused. "Say what?"

"Go ahead! Tell me how you were right! Start gloating on how if it weren't for you I wouldn't be as happy as I am and I wouldn't be getting married!"

"Y/N…" he scoffed quietly, amused chuckles bubbling out of him.

"Come on! You know you want to." Sam only continues to stare at you in complete amusement. After a moment, he shakes his head and starts walking again. “Sam…”

“I’ll save the gloating for my brother.” The image of that interaction plays in your mind, making you fight a smile as you begin to walk alongside Sam again. It wasn’t more than twenty feet ahead that he gently nudged your arm, flashes you a smirk and quietly squeezes in an ‘I told you so.’ Of course it’s just an impulse to smack him back for it, but he still found it amusing.

A comfortable silence rests between you both after that. The two of you continue taking sips of your coffee, looking over the small lake just a few yards away from the path and enjoying the sounds of nature around you. So when you began to speak again, Sam was shocked at how drastic a turn it took.

"You know," you start, your focus now on the path in front of you. "When Dean canceled on me...I really thought it was because of work." Sam listened on, knowing that the topic most likely brought you back but was curious on why you went back so far; wondering why you were thinking back on the cancelation and not just your first date together.

"Then I heard you talking with Sarah one night and I started to think that maybe it wasn't. That maybe my past with Jeff scared him and he didn't want to start something that he thought was going to end anyway."

"I didn't tell him about your past, Y/N." Sam interjects, his tone a little more somber than it was before.

“I didn’t know that.” you tell him, meeting his gaze. “I mean...you told me about him. You told me stories of growing up with him, what he did for a living, his wife. Though, you didn’t tell me what happened to her. Thanks for that by the way.” Sam turned away for a moment, guilt clear in his expression. “But anyway...after all that and then never hearing back for a different date, I figured it was over.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sam felt horrible. With how busy Dean was with that case, he never got a chance to set another one up. He definitely bugged Dean with it, but nothing ever came of it. But he should have kept you in the loop and clearly that’s where he first dropped the ball. “I didn’t...that was my fault and I’m sorry.”

“Meh.” you shrug, a soft smile on your face as you bring your cup up to your lips. “It’s funny how the world works.” As you take a sip, Sam follows, not knowing that you weren’t done with your story.

“When I woke up in the hospital...I…” you stutter a bit, trying to find the lost words in your mind. “...I couldn’t even tell what I was feeling. Of course I was scared. Lost. I was in so much pain but numb at the same time.” Sam’s stomach began to flop, making his sips of coffee become less and less. “But there was one thing that I knew. Despite everything else I was feeling, I knew that I needed to see you.” His shock from your confession had his eyes snapping to yours, his feet stuttering a bit as they tried to keep moving down the path.

“There’s very few moments in my life that I’ve felt safe. Like really safe, and most of them have been with you.” Sam’s grateful when you stop walking because the heaviness of the conversation was making it harder for him to continue on.

“Thankfully I only had a couple people looking out for me instead of half the hospital, but the way they looked at me…” you choked on your words, taking a moment to pull yourself together. “Then there was this officer that kept coming in, trying to get me to talk and to eat and I just...I didn’t want to. I didn’t want anything but for you to come and pick me up and…” When a tear slips from your eye, Sam finds it nearly impossible to hold his emotions in, but he keeps fighting them.

“Then...at one point a new guy came in and tried to talk to me, just like the other one. But this one...his voice was so calming.” Sam watched as your eyes changed, as if you were looking through an invisible window into another universe. “There was something about it that reminded me of you.” you tell him, finally looking into his eyes. “It brought me comfort. The only way you ever have.

“Then he said his name. I don’t even remember saying anything, but I kept repeating his name in my head over and over again and I guess I must have said it out loud at one point because he acknowledged me for it.” A soft smile starts to pull at your mouth.

“Dean Winchester.” A light chuckle bubbles in your chest. “After that, I asked about you and he seemed to put a wall up. I must have scared him.” Sam even chuckles then, the mood lighting back up again.

“I knew it was him. I knew it was him and for how safe I felt around him…I knew you were right even back then. But after what happened to me...I figured the chances of him being interested were zero to none.”

“Y/N…”

“I mean...who would want someone after that, right?” Sam steps forward, his palm coming up to your elbow and carefully pulling you closer to him. “Why would he want someone as disgusting and as tainted as me?” He pulls you into his chest, not caring if your coffee gets squished and he ends up wearing it. Sam holds you tight like he always did when you needed it most.

“One.” he whispers into your hair, letting you cry softly into his jacket. “You’re not tainted and you are not disgusting. Y/N...you are beautiful, funny and loving. You’re amazing. And two,” he pulls back, dipping his head a little as he makes you look up at him.

“You’re worth it.”

“Bag this.” As Dean holds up a knife that he pulled from the kitchen sink, one of his officers holds open an evidence bag, keeping it steady so that he can carefully place it in.

“Hey.” Dean gives the officer a nod and then goes to pull his gloves off as he looks over at Styles who is making his way to the kitchen. “Heard you needed me.”

“Yeah.” he confirms, balling the used latex in his hands before tossing them in the police only trash bag on the floor. “That family photo in there? I need you to talk with everyone and start hunting down the younger male.” Styles looks back, but sees that the photo in question is not in sight at the moment.

“He is to think he’s only being questioned as a family member that may have information to help, not as a suspect. You understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Because he will flee, if he’s not already.”

“Okay.” Styles nods before following Dean through the dining room, his eyes catching the photo Dean is talking about as he passes, but he continues to follow his partner outside. “You heading home?”

“Yes. If Bobby needs me, have him call me. But I’m sure the manhunt will keep you guys busy for a while.” Dean pauses on the steps as he looks at Eddie, waiting to see what he replies with, but both men are silenced even longer as a pair of officers carry out a body bag. This one smaller than the others telling Dean who was inside. The silence stretches for a bit, the heaviness lingering until they have him feet away.

“My report is in there, make sure Bobby gets it, will ya?”

“Of course.” Dean turns and takes on a few more steps before Styles calls out for him.

“Did you do it?” The hint of a smile tells Dean what he’s asking about and honestly the topic makes him finally get a small smile in too. “Did you ask her?” Picturing your face on Christmas morning helped wash away the evil he just walked away from and Dean’s smile grows a little more as he slowly nods in response.

“Yeah.” Styles shares his happiness, making Dean even more anxious to get out of there and go home to you.

“Congratulations, man.”

Forever Babes:

@dnnwnchstr22 @ricanqueen20 @onethirstyunicorn @in-deans-arms @sandlee44 @hobby27 @catching-up-with-kayla @chances-and-miracles @superfanficnatural @thatmotleygirl @sleep-i-ness @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @amandamdiehl @coldmuffinbanditshoe @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @deangirl93 @that-one-gay-girl @borikenlove @foreverlonelyforhim @fairlyspnfanfic @mlovesstories @miraclesoflove @flamencodiva @tombraider42017 @downanddirtydean @stixnstripesworld

Dean/Jensen Babes:

@deans-baby-momma @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @michellethetvaddict @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @jensengirl83 @idksupernatural @akshi8278 @iamabeautifulperson18 @tatted-trina6 @thoughts-and-funnies @brilovesdeanwinchester @sexyvixen7 @onceuponathreetwoone @cpag7 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @deandaydreaming @deansgirl215 @mikadwinchester @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @pink-sparkly-witch

Escape Babes:

@teambuckyovereverything @busy-bee-angel-misska @vicmc624 @xxsovereignsarayaxx @cookiechipdough @deansgirl215 @linki-locks11 @negans-lucille-tblr @squirrelnotsam @samsgirl93 @londoncallingbutiwontpickup @percywinchester27 @maralisa124 @thecreatiivecorner @briagallen @fanngirl19 @supernatural-love14 @thefemalestorywriter @deanwinchesterinthedarktower @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @supernatural3002 @shesnotmaria @couldabeenamermaid @my-proof-is-you @muchamusedaboutnothing @mickey-m399 @bakugouswh0r3 @redbarn1995

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