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pellucid-constellations · 1 year

Text

My Everyday

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining

a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)

Masterlist

“What’s this punks name again?”

The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.”

“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?”

“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.”

“Semantics.”

“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes.

There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice.

He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one.

Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus.

But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team.

You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you.

But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours.

There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck.

It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting.

“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?”

“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?”

“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.”

You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.

“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.

The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.”

“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?”

“Fuck you, man.”

A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something.

And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.

Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.

“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room.

You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?”

The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow.

“Y/n.”

It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.”

He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—”

“We’re going home.”

“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.”

He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.”

That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice.

This was different.

“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room.

He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped.

You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.

“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.”

“It was a big deal.”

The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours.

There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”

“Ice skating.”

The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?”

“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.”

“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—”

“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt.

“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink.

A good reason.

You didn’t date athletes.

It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else.

And you didn’t date athletes.

You did not.

You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met.

The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged.

So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating.

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience.

You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.”

He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room.

“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room.

“Tonight,” you answered plainly.

The arms atop your legs tensed.

The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him.

On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.

The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.

You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.

“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.”

“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.”

“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea.

Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week.

Definitely not.

“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat.

You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you.

On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.

“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering.

“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.”

And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.

“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone.

“What?” you yelled.

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again.

This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.

“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.”

You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.”

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you.

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out.

You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up.

Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.”

“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.

“Do I know you?” you slurred.

You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?”

“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.”

“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.”

Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?”

Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again.

“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.

Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.

“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled.

The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.”

There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left.

Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal.

“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked.

A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?”

You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream.

Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack.

He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.”

“Who?” Your head swayed with the question.

Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went.

“What the fuck?” you blurted out.

“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?”

“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied.

“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.”

Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.”

He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men.

After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently.

“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door.

You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.”

The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.”

“I can take you just fine.”

“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?”

Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”

His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent.

“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created.

“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation.

“Yeah, but—”

“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.”

You blinked, and then slid into the front seat.

The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.

“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.”

Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.”

He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look.

“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.”

Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news.

After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade.

“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively.

Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.”

“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.

You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink.

“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow.

“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.”

“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.”

“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?”

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room.

Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift.

You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed.

“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.”

You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes.

And nothing at the same time.

“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.

“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.”

“You’re being presumptuous.”

He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply.

“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection.

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen.

But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.

He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”

“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you.

And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.

His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.”

He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.”

There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you.

“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.”

The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter.

He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you.

The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.

The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter.

He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.”

“You can do it again.”

“Oh, I will, baby.”

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together.

“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.”

He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?”

“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.”

Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets.

“And is that true?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #college!bucky

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Text

It’s not common to see Atsumu fuming.

Genuine anger, not the petty shit he throws at you when he decides he wants to be an obnoxious turd to yourself or his brother.

You can tell the difference, too, because a petulant pout and attitude is plastered on that pretty face of his, but when he’s genuinely mad, there’s no attitude; it’s just raw emotion and lips pulled in a straight line, his chest giving irregular, short breaths because he can’t breathe. It’s almost scary, but it happens so little that you’ve learned to manage it when it does happen.

This is one of those rare occasions you have no clue which he’s feeling.

The car door outside slams shut, sending a nervous chill up your spine, but it’s immediately squashed when you hear Hisako’s innocent laughter. You smile and turn towards the now opening door, and you give atsumu a fake, sympathetic look when his thick brows are furrowed in frustration. On his leg, Hisako’s tiny arms are wrapped around him, her legs locked around his ankle and her smile that’s missing a tooth is beaming up at him.

“You,” he scolds, looking down at his menace of a six year old. “Go upstairs. And don’t come out until you’re seventy-eight.”

“Can I hug mommy first?”

“If you must,” he growls. With that, Hisako quickly bounds over to you and reaches her arms up for a hug, and while you give her one, you watch as Atsumu paces the floor, cards his hair, chews on his cuticles, anything to make him calm down.

“Daddy’s mad,” she whispers in your ear.

You offer her a snort, “I know.” With a kiss to her head you plant her back to her feet and nudge her to go into her room, waiting until to door closes before you turn back to your husband.

“Atsumu-“

“I’m not ready for this,” he growls. “The little traitor, I can’t believe she’d do this to me- my own flesh and blood.”

“Don’t word it like that, you make it sound like she committed arson or something.”

He softens and pouts like a dog; clearly, whatever it is, it’s taking a toll, and you sigh before you walk over and plant a kiss to his forehead. “Whatever it was, I know it wasn’t on purpose; what happened?”

“She’s just not ready, okay, she just doesn’t know-“

“Sweetheart, you need to let me in here-“

“He was holding her hand!” He whines, scrubbing his face with his hands. “They-They-They were holding hands! I thought I had a few more years to prepare for this shit! Wanted to wait before I put the fear back into these damn boys! I can’t fight a six year old!”

You pause. You retract your hand and give him an absolute smirk.

“You’re kidding me?”

“Sure ain’t!” He barks, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s so mad his forehead vein makes itself known with a sheen of sweat. “Tomorrow, I’m going to that damned school, and I’m moving her classes!”

“Honey,” you say sweetly, gently grabbing his arm to ground him. “It’s okay; I’m the one who told her to be nice to this boy.”

Instantly, his head whips in betrayal. His eyes are blown wide, muscles tense and despite how angry he looks, he can’t find the words to convey it.

“YOU WHAT?”

You shake your head, “she asked me why she feels butterflies in her tummy when she sees him.” To try and soothe him, you hook your head over his shoulder and bat your eyes innocently, “and I told her that it’s the same feeling I get when I see you-“

“Don’t try to be sweet, I’m mad at you,” he snarls, but there’s a softness in his eye that makes you think he’s not as serious as he thinks he comes across. A massive hand cards through his hair and he looks up to the sky as if to ask for patience. “I can’t believe this. My two babies, the loves of my life, betraying me in such juvenile ways.”

“Atsumu, spell juvenile,” you challenge.

“Spell ‘no’,” he grumbles. You sigh and gently grab his arm to pull him to the couch, and for a few seconds he puts up a small fight, but does end up giving into you in the end.

“Sweetie, listen to me,” you soothe. “Hisako is six. She’s going to start having little crushes soon enough-“

“Fuck, stop reminding me,” he whines.

You shake your head and rub a soothing hand on his back. “And all we can do is let her express those feelings in healthy ways; it’s what we’ve always done.”

“What if he hurts her?”

“He’s six.”

“What if he breaks her heart?”

“I’m sure she’ll cope.”

“What if he-“

“Atsumu.” Your hands squish his cheeks. “Calm down; she’s going to be okay.” You smile and kiss his pouted lips, “you remember what it was like having a crush at school-“

“Excuse you,” he grumbles from his squished cheeks, shaking his head from your grip. “I’ve only ever been in love with you.”

“You’ve told me about your relationship with Rintaro, trust me, that was a crush.”

“Was not!”

“Was too.”

“Was not!”

“It absolutely was.” You smile warmly, “and that’s fine. But now, you need to let her experience the same thing. She’s a big girl. Besides,” you nudge your nose with his, “you’ll always be her favorite man.”

“That’s actually Osamu, but I appreciate it.” Your words do seem to calm him down however, and he wraps a big arm around you to settle into the couch, “I just love her, baby… just want her to be safe.”

“I know; and she will be.”

The silence you get comfortable in gets interrupted by the door to your home getting flung open, and while you jump in the air in shock, next to you, Atsumu chuckles.

“Speaking of the devil.”

“What did you-“

Before you can say anything, Miya Osamu suddenly stands in the middle of your living room, the hat on his head tampered with and his apron turn on his hip, his head lined with sweat as if he ran here. Your jaw slacks in surprise, “Osamu, you did not leave work to come here-“

“WHAT STUPID LITTLE SNOT WAS HOLDING HER HAND?”

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i9messi · 9 months

Text

Cooking with Charles — Charles Leclerc

You're a chef and you teach Charles how to cook and bake.

social media au

charles' masterlist

yourusername

pasta 🍝

liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 53.289 others

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user1 you're so pretty and you can cook, please marry me

user2 you act like cooking pasta is something easy

yourusername hey, everyone knows how to do pasta

user3 charles leclerc 💀

user4 teach charles then

carlossainz55 hey charles_leclerc ask her for some help, your pasta sucks

charles_leclerc hey, my pasta is not that bad

pierregasly is awful

yourusername THREE F1 DRIVERS IN MY COMMENTS, TRYING TO NOT FREAK DOWN

user5 if I were you, I would already be flirting with them

user6 be charles' teacher, eventually he will fall in love with you

user7 okay, but y/n and charles cooking together would be something I would love to watch

yourusername

a new episode of cooking with Y/N is already on my YouTube channel! <3 browniesss

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 81.954 others

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user1 ma'am please marry me and feed me

user2 charles leclerc liked her post

user3 charles started to follow her!!!!

charles_leclerc it looks so good!

yourusername I can teach you, if you want!

user3 YES MY GIRL DO IT FOR US

user4 they look so cute together already

charles_leclerc

[caption: learning from the best 👩‍🍳 yourusername]

yourusername

cooking with Charles 🍝 tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 123.932 others

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user1 YES

user2 she's living my dream

user3 he's a bad cook

yourusername he's not that bad! he just had some inchidents

liked by charles_leclerc

user4 yes girl protect your future boyfriend

charles_leclerc Am I a good student?

yourusername you're the best I ever had

charles_leclerc 🥹

charles_leclerc when will be your next lesson? i only want to improve

yourusername send me a dm

user5 SCREAMING, CRYING, THROWING UP

user6 okay the chemistry between them

user7 I APPROVE THIS RELATIONSHIP

arthur_leclerc so this is what charles is doing in his free time

charles_leclerc

biscuits. now I can cook! tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 663.132 others

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yourusername yes, you can! I always trusted in you❤️

charles_leclerc thank you belle ❤️

user1 THE HEARTS

user2 PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE DATING

user3 you both could make normal cookies but you preferred to make cookies with hearts of jam, that means something

carlossainz55 what are they? they look so good 👍

yourusername it's called jammy biscuits, they have jam on the top 🫶

arthur_leclerc she does magic, that's the only explanation possible

charles_leclerc you're envious

maxverstappen1 I'm interested in her classes now

charles_leclerc no, get your own teacher. she's mine

charles_leclerc

she loves food, I love her ❤️ tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 621.133 others

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yourusername I love you❤️🫶

charles_leclerc I love you more🥹

user1 YESSSSSSSSSS

user2 SHE LIVES INSIDE A FANFIC

carlossainz55 congratulations, guys! please adopt me now, I need tasty food

arthur_leclerc I knew this would happen, he talks about y/n all the time 😏

yourusername really?? omg

charles_leclerc traitor

maxverstappen1 congrats!

user3 couple goals

#charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc story #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc #leclerc #f1 instagram au

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autumnmobile12 · 10 months

Text

7 Ways to Introduce the Villain.

1. The Shadow

A lot of series go with the classic 'ominous shadowy figure in the background.' Here's Silco in Arcane. Sinister voice, sinister dude, sinister intent. Boom, you have your villain.

2. The Slow Reveal

Other variations of the 'shadowy figure' in which the series draws out the reveal of the villain. Avatar: The Last Airbender doesn't reveal the Firelord until the final season, but his presence is felt throughout the series. He's always this looming threat whose will is carried out by his underlings. (General Zhao, Azula, etc.)

3. The Fabulous Entrance!

Okay, so we do hear Ragyo on the phone a couple times before they actually show her face, but goddamn, this entrance. It is impressive and terrifying and, it perfectly suits the utter psycho that she is.

There is no normal expression this woman makes when she's 'happy.' She's always smug or angry or annoyed, but this face with her staring, manic eyes and smile still haunts me. Send help.

4. The Sudden Entrance

Shigaraki kinda comes out of nowhere in My Hero Academia. For the first few episodes, its all lighthearted and fun and dealing with Bakugo's BS and then the class heads off on a field trip and suddenly,

"Oh, shit! Plot is happening!"

This series started off with kids learning to be heroes, and now its tragedy and social upheaval and people's lives are in danger.

5. The Incognito Entrance

This is when some random nonthreatening dude/lady just kinda sidles into the plot the be the butt of a joke and later turns out to have been one of the villains.

This scene was so weird. Tyki is just minding his own business, scamming people at cards. Then Allen and Lavi show up looking for their friend (the guy currently being scammed), and even though he recognizes them as exorcists and his enemies, Tyki has to sit there and play it off like he doesn't know jack cause if he does anything, he's gonna blow his cover in front of his human buddies. And then he suffers the indignation of being stripped in a poker game in broad daylight because the main protagonist is absolutely evil with a card deck. And then he just walks away from this like it's a totally normal thing, not even really taking vengeance for it. (He went after Allen, sure, but that was more of a job than any personal vendetta.) He's not the main villain, but I couldn't resist pointing out how bizarre this is.

For those who haven't seen D. Gray Man, the guy in the center is one of the main antagonists, and though this is technically the second time you see him, the first encounter was so short it was practically a cameo and he was a Victorian-era, Dorian Gray dandy gentleman, not this hobo riding a train.

6. The Traitor

Since the Undertaker was more of a neutral party in Black Butler, I don't think he really counts as a traitor. Still, I don't think too many of us were suspecting the morbid jokester Grim Reaper was going to turn out to be a major antagonist later on.

7. The Protagonist

And sometimes the protagonist is the villain!

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 10 months

Text

Dabi is so funny to me 'cause he is not even half as cool as he thinks he is when he is with the League. All those posts and fics and art of him acting smooth are a lie 'cause there's no way the League wouldn't get his ass for it.

This is the man who try to use his fire to fight Machia and when it didn't work, he tried to play it cool saying he had a top-notch recruit to pick up. But A) the recruit in question was a traitor/spy, not better that Twice recruiting Overhaul, B) Toga called him out immediately he was only running away 'cause his fire did not work.

This is the man who tried to make fun of the rest of the lov suggesting too on-the-face code-names to Toga, only for Compress to remind him that his villain code-name was cremation.

Toga called him out for trying to play it cool but being kind to her. On his first apparition we saw him getting a Twice pep-talk because he needed more confidence or whatever. He was another Stain fanboy for a while. He is the dork who dances when he's excited. He is the one who gets easily car-sick and doesn't like to eat fish. He dyes his hair all the time, he uses bad disguises that work who knows why, he's awkward, dramatic and he cares so much he cries blood. He still calls his little siblings Natsuo-kun and Fuyumi-chan.

I'm just saying--! Listen, he is another dork cringe-fail / world class terrorist, the same as the other members of the League, okay?.

#dabi #todoroki touya #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #toya todoroki

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storydays · 5 months

Text

Clay X Wife! Reader

"We call them meat circles." Clay greeted his brothers dramatically. Their brothers and Poppy greeted him in varying ways before he continued to pinch and baby-talk Branch, ignoring his pleas to call him "Big Branch" or just "Branch."

A voice called out, "Clay, darling, if you want to talk to an actual baby...yours are right here." The group turned to see a light-pink-haired Troll, wearing a dress with a similar design to Clay, walking over with 2 peach color haired Tollings, one sleeping who had mini wrist bands and a diaper and one awake, a yellow pacifier in her mouth, with a couple of flowers placed in her hair and a diaper.

"Melody! Hey, sweetheart, you're finally awake!" Turning to the woman as he took the baby, his eyes softened even more, "Hey (Y/N), how was your nap? You feeling better, baby?"

(Y/N) smiled, adjusting her son slightly. "Yeah, I feel like that fog in my brain is lifted, like I can think clearer. But enough about me, who are the new Trolls?"

"Oh, yeah! Everyone, this is my wonderful wife, (Y/N), and mother of our twins, Melody and Lallo! Baby, these are my brothers, John Dory, Spruce, who goes by Bruce now, and Bit-I mean Branch. That's Poppy, Branch's girlfriend---and wait a second, where's Floyd?" Clay asked, looking for his slightly younger brother.

After explaining why they were there, Bruce spoke up. "Wait, I just realized, you're a dad, too Clay!" He laughed excitedly. Clay grinned from where they were tickling Melody. "Yeah, man! These two are only a few weeks old, but they are amazing! I wouldn't change anything for them."

Melody then started to pull on her father's wild green locks. "Ow! Mel-Mel! Let go! (Y/N), get your demon child!" "Mm-no." snorted (Y/N), as she then gave Clay their son who'd woken up wanting to play with his sister and father. "You traitor!" cried Clay, fighting his grin yelping again when one of the twins grabbed his hair and pulled hard.

Viva and (Y/N) giggled, before finally giving mercy to the CPA. They each took a twin and turned to the group to give Clay a chance to compose themself.

-----------------------------LINE BREAK-----------------------------------

(Y/N) knew it would bother Clay if he didn't try to help his brothers, but she didn't want them in danger.

Clay gave the sleeping twins a kiss on the head before pressing his forehead against hers, cupping her cheek, and wiping away a few tears. "Promise you'll be safe and come home, okay? These babies are too young to be without their dad. And I don't want to be a widow."

Laughing softly, Clay whispered, "I promise," before pressing a kiss to her lips, and let her rush off to stall Viva.

Bruce pat his brother's shoulder and led them to Rhonda. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll get you back to your wife and kids."

-----------------------------LINE BREAK--------------------------------

After freeing Clay and the others freed Floyd, they came to rest at Putt Putt village and picking up (Y/N) and the twins.

Everyone getting along so well, and Bruce offering advice for those first time parent jitters, he could see written all over both of the younger couple's face.

(Y/N) being the most supportive wife,and getting along splendidly with Bruce's wife, Brandi.

The two having a bi monthly moms date, having a monthly girls' night, with Poppy, Viva, Bridget.

Every month, (Y/N) takes her daughter Melody and Brandi brings her daughters for a mommy daughter cousins sisters in law date.

(Y/N) being the Putt-Putt troll preschool teacher, having her kids in class when they're old enough.

Melody and Lallo are both names after music(Melody being the melody of a song, and Lallo means lullaby in Spanish.)

I headcanon that the Putt Putt trolls' two main languages are English and Spanish.

Let me know what you guys think!

@vacayisland

#brozone clay x reader #brozone x reader #clay trolls #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #x reader

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bidisastersanji · 3 months

Text

Nami ropes Zoro into coming to her dungeon’s shibari class because their model called in sick last minute and the witch has him in enough debt as it is.

Zoro thinks he’s gonna be bored as fuck until his eye meets the instructor’s baby blues and he is done for. Absolutely done for.

Nami didn’t mention how hot this Sanji guy was wtf wtf his legs his ass his smirk his stupid hair he wants to break this man’s suave disposition, break his composure and mask how dare he walk so confidently up to him like he’s about to eat him right up

They sit down at the bar and Sanji talks him through shibari and how it works, checks where he’s allowed to touch him, explains how it feels if there’s risk of nerve damage, that he should squeeze back when he squeezes his hand etc

They have ten minutes to get to know each other and talk a bit, get comfortable before it starts and they immediately get into some playful banter- they talk a bit about Japanese culture etc- Sanji shares what he knows about the history of shibari and Zoro is surprised that he’s actually more and more interested and looking forward to the sensory experience. Maybe it’ll be meditative.

It’s time for class to start, he and the students place the mats on the floor and of course Sanji had immediately noticed Zoro was muscular when he saw him walk in but nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight of this marble statue of a man stripping into shorts. Just shorts.

He keeps his thoughts as chaste as he can as he starts tying his stone-faced model (is he bored?) first showing what the first step is supposed to look like before demonstrating it slower and talking the class through it. He can feel Zoro’s gaze on him like a warm weight on his skin, and he worries his lower lip to keep himself from getting distracted. (Don’t look at his ass. Don’t look at his bulge. You’re a professional)

On his side Zoro is relaxing into the comforting pressure of the ropes against his body, letting himself slip into a partially meditative state. He feels calm, safe. Like a kitten being held by the back of the neck. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. He’ll still complain to Nami after though.

Then comes the time for the suspension and his eyes are getting heavy, a bit dazed as he stares at Sanji’s elegant form hoisting him up by pulling down on another set of ropes.

The rope digs deliciously into his skin and muscles where gravity takes hold, and the deep pressure calms him- he momentarily closes his eyes to savour the moment, feeling himself sway a bit from the ring on the ceiling.

During the class, he faintly registered that the other pairs in the room act in somewhat intimate manners- occasionally groping, caressing, slapping, kissing, spanking as they go through the motions of the tie Sanji taught them, and now he’s partially aware that he’s aching for Sanji’s touch himself, unsatisfied with the press of fingers here and there checking the ropes’ tension.

Zoro’s limbs, as expected from the blonde’s earlier explanations, start to feel a bit numb and pinpricky. As if able to read his mind, a warm hand meets his , and Zoro obediently flexes his fingers, as instructed before the session, the left, then the right, demonstrating that the nerves in his arms are okay.

Mechanically, Sanji whispers a barely audible “good boy”, and Zoro hears a very low, pleading groan before realising it came from his own traitorous throat. He can’t fight the light blush that dust his cheeks in embarrassment.

Sanji’s pupils are definitely dilated because of the low lighting, and not because of the muscular man he’s got tied up, a vision floating in a graceful, immobile pose before him. The soft breaths and grumbles that Zoro made when being tied up, he managed to deal with. But a low groan like that? From being praised? Fuck.

Sanji comes closer and whispers in his ear, teasing his bunny initiate about his apparent enjoyment of his first shibari experience.

Zoro rolls his eyes and resumes the playful banter and ribbing they’d engaged in earlier, breaking the docile mask he’d put on for the benefit of the class.

This bunny has teeth. Sharp ones.

Sanji hopes he’ll get to see this burgeoning brat again- he’ll have to cash in a favour from Nami to try and get him back here. He could have so much fun with this one.

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offictionandfandoms · 2 years

Text

✎﹏﹏ Rumors Pt. 2

Previous | Next

✑ Pairings: Eddie Munson x f!reader!

✑ Word Count: 5192

✑ Requested: Yes/No

✑ Warnings: Angst into fluff, cursing, bad DND talk because I don’t understand DND so….yeah. Let me know if I missed anything!

✑ Authors Note: I just want to thank everyone who loved the last part and requested to be tagged in this one. It truly means so much to me, y’all have no idea. I wish I could reply to every comment asking to be tagged but I was busy making this. I’m sorry if I missed anyone! I hope this part lives up to expectations and you love it just as much. Also. I have a small part three that is just fluff because I was in a mood and I already liked the way I had ended this one…so. Here is a short fluff part 3! Enjoy :)

✑ Gif isn’t mine!

“It’s spelled with an ‘e’ not an ‘o’,” Y/N critiqued the paper in front of her, using her usual red pen to circle the mistake. The paper was adorned in red ink at this point, harshly overlapping the pencil markings, something she usually tried to limit. She always believed that verbally pointing out the mistakes and allowing the student to fix it in the moment was better than just marking the paper and letting them go. But over the past few days, all she cared about was wrapping up her tutoring sessions as fast as possible so she could escape back to her house.

“Oh, okay.” The dejected tone of the student had her looking up from the paper, red pen hesitating over yet another mistake she was about to mark. The reason being that she always wished to verbally correct them over just marking was that they always took the red marks to heart: the more marks there were, the worse the feeling of failure became. She was a tutor, not a dream crusher. Yet that’s all she had been doing lately. She recognized this, but she couldn’t stop it. It was like an angry blue monster had sat right on her brain, eating away at all sense of logic, healing, and hope, replacing it all with bitterness, sadness, and tints of anger whenever she saw Eddie Munson’s stupid pretty face in the halls or in class. She felt horrible in every way possible.

“I’m sorry,” she started, opening her mouth to give words of encouragement but halting before anything slipped out. The wide green eyes staring back at her were waiting, wanting some sort of pick-me-up advice and comfort. But how could she offer them that when she couldn’t even give it to herself? On top of feeling horrible, she felt pathetic. It had been days since the break up, days since she spoke to Eddie or even Jason, who she still hadn’t confronted about the rumor. The only person who she actively spoke to beyond her tutoring clients was Max Mayfield, who insisted on checking in on her every day, even if it meant her step-brother had to wait in the parking lot.

“It’s not a bad paper, these errors- they’re small. Just little things. You can fix them and everything will be okay.” She muttered out, averting her eyes back to the paper, yet not truly taking anything in. She had begged Eddie to let her fix her error- which she now knew hadn’t even been /her/ error- and he rejected her. Banished her, actually. The thought now made her laugh— was she some traitorous princess, banned from her kingdom?

Yes.

Quickly circling the last mistake she could find, or really the first mistake her eye came to after coming back into focus, she pushed it over the table towards the rightful owner, watching as they scanned over all the red. You couldn’t even make out what they had actually written in the first paragraph due to her scribbles.

Their shoulders slumped, “I. . . When I fix them, can I come back to you?” She wanted to say no, she wanted to cancel all her tutoring sessions for the next week but she couldn’t. So she just nodded her head and offered the kid a small discount for the next session, as she really wasn’t 100% there herself.

She watched as they shoved everything in their backpack and took off, leaving her alone with her thoughts. At least for another ten minutes, at least, before her next and final client showed up. She was currently holding all of her sessions outside; the wind blowing her hair into a little dance and kissing her skin felt more freeing than the feeling of stares crawling over her body and whispers assaulting her ears. Whispers of what, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure if her overactive imagination and paranoia was making her hear her own name or if they were genuinely whispering about her. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

Students were still dallying in the parking lot; some throwing balls back and forth like there wasn’t an actual sports field behind the school, some making out with their significant others like they didn’t have a house to go to, and some, like herself, sitting alone to study like they actually cared about school.

In her stupor, she could make out someone asking to talk, but she assumed that it was directed towards someone else, not bothering to turn around and see who it was. Not until the person said her name.

“Y/N?” Normally, she would’ve turned around to properly address whoever was speaking to her. Normally, she would’ve greeted whoever it was with a smile, maybe a handshake or a hug, and invited them to sit down with her until her next client came. She was raised in a proper household, she had manners.

But this wasn’t a normal case. And that wasn’t just anyone saying her name. She could tell who it was within seconds, the cadence of his voice permanently etched into her brain.

So, in that situation, she froze. Like a deer in headlights, she stared ahead of her, vaguely seeing the football go sailing through the air, and in her peripheral’s, the shadow of a body taking a seat beside her. Uninvited.

“Please.”

It was such an odd time in her brain. Because she could recall just how easily she used to cave into his cute little plea’s, how seeing his pouty face as he begged her to give in had filled her with such a strong sense of adoration that she felt like she was floating. Now she could also recall just how easily he denied her when she pleaded, how seeing him push her out the drama room door felt like he had stapled an eviction notice to her heart. She could feel the want to give in, to turn to him and promise to make things better. Normally that would be enough to make her do it. But, again, this wasn’t a normal situation. The blue monster was turning red, tendrils of smoke puffing down her spine and overcoming the want for them to work out with the want to tell him to shove it. Neither side won, and she just sat there, knee bouncing as her mind and heart fought a war inside her. It wasn’t her place to make things better anymore, she had already tried. But she couldn’t imagine treating him like he had her, even if he deserved it.

As if he could read her mind, he nodded, leaning forward on the table to try to catch her attention. If only he knew that every nerve ending in her body was standing on end for him, how every neuron in her brain felt like they were on a live wire that was Eddie Munson’s guitar string. Even if she wasn’t looking his way, she was still acutely aware of every move he made, every breath he took, and even his hair being ruffled by the wind.

The rings glinting in the sunlight was what made her look over, though. Specifically the ring he had on his ring finger— the one that she had bought him. It was a gift for them making it a month together. Eddie had freaked out because he hadn’t got her anything, mainly because he didn’t get the hype of a monthiversary, not because he hadn’t remembered. When the next month came around and he had brought her handpicked flowers and a guitar pick with their initials messily engraved on them, she had laughed, explaining how two months isn’t really celebrated but that she loved them. He had started complaining about how monthiversary’s are complicated but she kissed him mid-sentence and took the flowers to a vase. She still had the dried petals in a box in her bedroom and the guitar pick in her jewelry box for safe keeping.

“I couldn’t take it off.” He had noticed her staring at the ring, lost in thought. So lost that she hadn’t noticed that he had begun to fiddle with the ring nervously. She raised an eyebrow at how easily it spun around, clearly not too tight for him to be unable to remove it. He caught that, too. “I mean. I could. But I.. couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to.”

Finally she lifted her gaze to meet his, the wide puppy stare a punch to her already beaten gut, “Why?” It was the first thing she had said to him since the breakup, and yet it summed up everything she wanted to know. Why couldn’t he take the ring off? Why didn’t he trust her? Why didn’t he talk to her? Why didn’t he love her enough to make things work?

She could see his Adam’s apple bob with a harsh swallow, almost like he had picked up on her thoughts regarding this, too.

“Well, you see, it’s my favorite.” The same goofy grin she had come to love developed on his face, his hair sweeping across his forehead as he dipped his head down. He was trying to be cute. He was trying to be cute to hide the fact that his fingers were now tapping against the table nervously, much like her bouncing leg. He was trying to be cute to hide the fact that he was as upset over everything as she was. If he knew her enough to pick up on her thoughts, then she surely knew him enough to do the same. And there was no way he was as upset as she was.

Anger finally took hold of her as she crammed her studying books, index cards, and red pen in her bag, swinging it over her shoulder as she stood up. The momentum nearly caused her to stumble but she used it to propel herself towards the school doors.

“Yeah, well. Things change. Find a new one.”

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

After managing to find her last client and change location to the library, Y/N had been homeward bound and had never felt better about it. The brief encounter she had with Eddie had left her shaken and she just wanted the comfort of her blankets and whatever sad song she could find on the radio.

Though, the next day brought even more shaking encounters and by the time lunchtime rolled around, she was thoroughly exhausted and on edge. She had nearly failed her first period exam, hadn’t been able to answer a question that her second period teacher had asked due to her being zoned out, and then she nearly tripped in the hallway, losing some papers in her skirmish to regain balance. She didn’t even try to get them back as she hurried to the cafeteria, eager to eat mediocre pizza and not be bothered.

But, as all bad days go, they get worse.

“Hey, Y/N! Hey!” She could barely contain her groan as she lifted her head to see Jason waving his hand for her to join his group in the line. The people who stood between her and him gave her warning glares, as if to say ‘don’t you dare skip again’. She had no intentions of doing so.

“Hey, Jason. I’m good here, thanks though.” While she was angry at Jason and his inability to shut up, most of her anger lay with Eddie, who bought into the cheap rumor without hesitation. Though, she still didn’t want to be near Jason or his posse of dumbasses.

“They’re not going to say anything. Right, guys? She can come up here.” He asked, his voice carrying over the other conversations taking place as he addressed the glaring individuals. None of them went against Jason’s order, though none looked happy about it, either.

Y/N was forced to take a deep breath through her nose as she steadied herself. It felt as if she was teetering on a tightrope and either way she fell, she was going to end up having a breakdown. Whether it be from anger or sadness was yet to be determined. In this moment, though, she was about to swan dive into anger.

The tight lipped smile she gave him felt painful on her face as she spoke through gritted teeth, “I’m fine here, Jason.”

But, as all choices given by egotistical jocks go, you don’t really have a choice.

Y/N soon found herself sandwiched between Jason and his buddies as they came down the line to her, willingly giving up their space near the trays just to grate her nerves even more.

“You know something, N/N?” Jason started, looking down at her with his pretty smile she was sure had other girls swooning, “You’re a saint. A real saint.”

The thin line of frazzled nerves that he was sawing away at was about to snap, but she decided to play his game. Not like she had been given an actual choice in the matter. “And why is that, Jason?” She refused to call him by some nickname that his friends usually used— they weren’t friends and she wasn’t going to appease his feelings by pretending otherwise. She wasn’t even looking his way as she moved forward in line.

“Tutoring that freak.”

At that moment, Y/N swore she could see red. His friends were howling with laughter, he himself seemed smug with his insulting joke. She couldn’t take another step forward as she processed what he said, and each time it played over in her mind, the angrier she got.

“What?” By now the line had moved up more and Jason was pushing at her back, but she was a brick wall and she wasn’t moving. Not until he repeated what he had said, not until she knew she had heard him right.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not like he can pay you. You’re doin’ it pro-bono right? You’re a saint. I guess even devil worshippers need to graduate.” Not only had she heard him right, but he was only making matters worse. She didn’t pay much mind to the students behind her once again complaining about how she needed to move or Jason trying once more to push her body forward.

He had successfully sawed her nerves away. She was now hurtling towards the pit of anger, happily so. Anger beat sadness, and she was about to beat him.

“Go fuck yourself, Jason,” was the first thought she had to say, one she had been dying to get out since she first realized what he had been spreading about her. His eyes went wide at the sudden quip and his friends started letting out low “ooh”s.

“You can’t talk to me..”

“I can talk to you however I want to. But God knows from your essays that you probably won’t understand anything I say. So let me spell it out for you,” she started, feeling as if the world around her was shaking, and yet it was only her body as rage coursed through her. “We are not friends. We did not sleep together- I would never sleep with someone like you…”

His hands threw up in defense as he took another step back, away from the step Y/N hadn’t known she had taken forward, “Whoa. I never said we slept together, dude.”

The interruption was enough to make her jab a pointed finger into his chest, sending him another step back. “Don’t you dare interrupt me. I am talking. Eddie Munson is /not/ a freak. He is a better man than you could even dream of being. I am not tutoring him. And you can shove your money right up your-”, she didn’t get the chance to finish her rampage before someone was grabbing her around the waist, pulling her away from a red faced Jason Carver.

“Put me down! I said put me down, asshole!” She yelled, not caring how her voice bounced off the walls, or how everyone in the cafeteria was staring at her like she had lost her mind. Maybe she had, but she didn’t care much about that either.

“I know I’ve made some mistakes but I don’t think name calling is necessary.” It took a moment before she could pinpoint that voice in the midst of her anger but once she did, she thrashed harder in his arms. She felt like a dog backed into a corner, no matter where she ran, she was met with people who pissed her off.

And a corner is exactly where she found herself as Eddie deposited her in a janitors closet, shutting the door behind them. It was dark for only a second before the dim light filled about half of the room. Dirty mops, cans of antiseptic spray, cobwebs, and a very amused Eddie stared back at her as she looked around.

The second his lips pulled up in a smirk, she exploded, “Why would you do that? I was-“

“You was’ going to get yourself expelled.”

“Stop interrupting me!” She flung her arms up in exasperation, seething at her sentence being cut off once again. Though when her fingers made contact with metal shelves and brick walls, she was quick to gasp and pull them back into her chest.

Much to his credit, Eddie hadn’t even flinched during her yelling, he had simply leaned against the opposite wall, watching with the ever-amused smile and raised eyebrow. He even shook his head with a chuckle as she nursed her now stinging hands.

“Let me see,” he started, inching forward with a hand outstretched to her. His rings didn’t glint as much in this light but she could tell he was still wearing the one she gave him. Tucking her hands closer into her chest, she shook her head. Her anger gave way to stubbornness, nostrils flaring with each deep breath and her chin lifting up to give some semblance of strength. Much to her chagrin, it only amused him more.

“Come on, sweetheart. Just let me see.” At the pet name, she froze for a moment, thinking back to all the times he had called her that before. Eddie wasn’t big on cliche pet names, he liked to create his own for her. Though sweetheart was a personal favorite of hers, so he had a tendency to use it on her. It always worked for getting her attention and making her feel more comforted and loved. Even now, even while dealing with a hundred different thoughts, that one word was like a bridge straight to her heart.

Without a word, but with a dramatic huff, she held out her hands, letting him see the damage for himself. He was very gentle when taking her hands into his, the warmth of his rings pressing into her skin like a beacon from home. His fingertips gracefully traced over the little red marks now marring her skin, like any sort of pressure would cause her to crack and fall apart.

The softness of the moment had entirely eradicated her anger and she was left with an ache where it once was. With her hands still held in his, she couldn’t fiddle with her fingers in nervousness, and when she tried to pull them away, he tightened his hold. Yet it was nothing compared to the way Jason’s hand had been firmly nudging her at lunch or how he held her wrist. It was like Eddie had found the next greatest DND figurine, used and a bit worn, but beautiful, ethereal, sacred. Something he was meant to protect— and he had failed doing so. But now he was making up for it.

His lips pressed against the red marks before she could question him, his forehead resting against her wrist as he just stood there, not saying anything, but not needing to. The amusement from earlier was long gone and was replaced with something Y/N couldn’t quite place.

Her lips parted for a moment as she thought over what to say: ‘I’m fine”, “We should go”, “Thanks for stopping me from getting expelled but god I wish I could have decked Jason just once’?

What came out was something entirely different: a whisper of his name. Saying it any louder would have broken whatever spell had been placed over them, and she didn’t know that she had it in her to do so. Or if she could even raise her voice again- she was so tired of yelling, of trying to be heard and listened to.

“Please,” was all he said in return, his voice just as low as hers. He finally dropped her hands but it was only so he could wrap his arms around her waist, tugging her into his chest; into a hug that she had yearned for since last week; into the arms she never thought she’d feel herself in again.

Vulnerability. That was the new feeling, what had replaced his amusement. The room was warm but the goosebumps on her skin still arose, her heart raced like she had run a mile and yet she was standing still, time felt like it had reversed a few weeks to when they were still together, when they were still Y/N and Eddie. And yet, it was still the same day, same hour, and the same broken up situation.

“Eddie…” she repeated his name, feeling his hair tickle her lips as they moved, smelling his cologne sneaking into her nose, and hearing the way he took his own shuddering breath, terrified of what the next steps would bring.

A few seconds later, Y/N found herself back in her own space, Eddie standing against the wall like he had been moments before, “I know you didn’t sleep with Jason.”

Even though the anger had long since disappeared, she still felt snarky as she shot back, “Oh, really? News to me.”

The smile he gave back was one of mock amusement, one of barely concealed pain, “I deserve that. I… I don’t know why I didn’t talk to you about it. I’m sorry.” He was pushing away from the wall in a flash, pacing the short width he was given as he raked his fingers through his hair, his face scrunched up in a look of concentration and anxiety.

“Sorry doesn’t-“

“I know, sorry doesn’t cut it. I /know/ that, Y/N. Why do you think it’s taken me so long to approach you? I had to do better than that. I had to think of more than ‘I’m sorry.’” He rushed out, not caring that he had interrupted her again. He just had to get it out of his brain before he lost it, before he became a stumbling, stuttering mess and wasn’t able to fix things.

“I still don’t have anything. Because nothing will magically sweep this away. I can’t roll dice and overcome this. But seeing you today in there with him, I knew I had to step in. And I’m sorry.” He rattled off, finally coming to a stop as he looked down at her, looking like a puppy who had just been kicked or left on the side of the road, searching desperately for its home. And even though he didn’t say it, Y/N was his home.

She couldn’t continue staring into his eyes when he looked like that, all she wanted to do was to grab him back into her arms and never let go. So she looked down, she folded her arms over her chest and she looked anywhere but him, anywhere but where she really wanted to look. “Why did you believe it?”

His laugh was dry, humorless, and forced. It was so unlike his normal behavior around her that her heart ached. “I didn’t. Well, I didn’t want to. I came back to the lunchroom that day and I saw you sitting there, him whispering in your ear. And then him again at your locker. And every time, I could just hear him telling his friends how he kissed you in payment for tutoring. I felt.. I felt. Pissed off. Hurt. Like the runt in a family of giants. Or a magicless spell caster. I can’t blame you if you wanted to be with someone like him.” The moment he started speaking in DND terms, she snorted. That was more like the Eddie she knew, the one she missed. This made him halt in his tangent as he looked at her, clearly confused and worried about her laughter.

“Jason Carver paid me in cash. Extra cash, actually. He stayed across the table at all times, he didn’t ever touch me. I wouldn’t have let him. I wouldn’t have let anyone who wasn’t you touch me. If you’re a magicless spell caster than Jason is.. is a tree stump.” She was never good with DND terms, but she was trying to get through to him in any way she could.

Her words seemed to only make him feel worse as he threw his head back in a groan, hands dragging down his face roughly. His rings left momentary red streaks on his skin. “I know that, too. I’m just a dumbass and I ruined it, didn’t I? I can’t make this better.”

Hearing him so down on himself had Y/N pausing, watching him with a studious eye, analyzing everything he did. His face had returned to the normal color, though his eyes were still wide and pleading. His hair was a mess from being tugged at so much from his own hands. He was fumbling with his rings again as he anxiously awaited her response. His body was wound so tight, she was sure he was going to spring apart in a seconds notice.

Now it was Y/N’s turn to inch forward, hands outstretched slightly, “I wouldn’t say you ruined things but,” she started, watching as his head snapped around so fast she was sure she heard a crack, “it will take time to get back to how we were. You have to work on trusting me, Eddie. Relationships can’t work without trust.”

“I do trust…,” at her look, he trailed off, nodding his head again, this time much slower than before. Maybe she really had heard a crack earlier and now he was feeling the consequences. “Okay, okay, yeah. I’ll work on it. I promise.”

“And promise me that you won’t listen to bullshit rumors without talking to me?” She asked, feeling his hands snake into hers, fingertips tapping against the inside of her wrist, like he was waiting for the go ahead sign to fully grab her hand.

“I promise, I swear.”

In the beat of silence that spread between them, Y/N felt her heart building up hope again. The strings she thought she left back in the drama room were wrapping around the beating organ with a new found excitement, the cracks starting to form together once more. There was work to be done, yes, but she truly believed it was going to be okay.

“Okay,” she murmured more to herself, testing it out, feeling how her heart soared at her acceptance, “yeah, okay. We can work on it.”

That must have been the sign he was needing because he was soon pulling her back into his arms, forehead connecting with hers with a little more force than intended. Neither commented on the slight bump, both entirely caught up in being back in each other’s arms, no fight or rumor or dumb jock standing between them.

The shadows from the dim light cast deep shadows over Eddie’s face, making his eyes seem darker than normal. It had Y/N’s stomach flipping in nerves. Who would’ve thought that only a few days apart could have her feeling like she was about to have her first kiss again?

Who would’ve also thought that right when everything was about to be made right again, they would be interrupted? Not them, for sure.

But here they were, the lighting from the hall now creeping into their little hiding spot and a familiar redhead standing with her hand on the knob.

“Oh,” she started to turn away but soon turned back, like leaving without an explanation was more awkward than speaking, “Dustin told me what happened in the lunchroom and I wanted to check on you. But, I see everything’s good. Great. Okay.” Pointing at them like a finger gun, Max went to shut the door once more. The shadows that had been starting to crowd around the couple again were soon chased away, though, as she pulled the door back open.

“Max!” Y/N laughed, part of her finding her new friend’s insistence and indecisiveness funny, but another part wanting to kiss Eddie and hide away in their bubble for a short while longer.

“Sorry, sorry! Just sayin’. Eddie, don’t be a dick next time, understand?” With her headphones hanging off her neck, red hair pulled back in a low pony, and her eyes narrowed on Eddie’s figure, Y/N had no doubt Max could and would have some choice words with him next time around. When Eddie just laughed, Max pursed her lips and leaned her head closer, refusing to leave until he said it.

Taking the hint, he curtly nodded his head towards her, “Understood.”

Seeming satisfied with his answer, she briefly turned her attention back to Y/N with a teasing smile, “Don’t forget, you promised me more ice cream after school.”

Finally, with the door swinging shut and the noise from the hallway being muffled, Y/N turned to Eddie with a shy smile, remembering key components of her time as a single woman.

“Eddie, I have to tell you something.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she felt him pull away, just enough to fully look at her face. “I kind of spent half of my savings buying me and Max ice cream.”

Instead of responding like she had expected, Eddie laughed. It wasn’t like the dry one from earlier; this was filled with happiness, humor, and maybe a hint of teasing.

“I was a…” whatever she was going to say was cut off as his lips pressed against hers, his arms tightening around her waist as he held her close. Every thought, every word, every syllable left her brain as she clung to him, fingers tangling in his hair, back bent slightly as he leaned over her, not an inch of space between their bodies.

It was perfect, Y/N swore she could see clouds and Cupid himself flying around them. Bright light shone down on them like the heavens approved of this match.

Well, that was what she was choosing to believe as the principal led them into the bright hallway, students all around whispering and pointing at the couple with messy hair, puffy lips, and intertwined hands.

There would be rumors of this, Y/N was sure. ‘Eddie Munson and Y/N Y/L/N caught making out in a broom closet!’ But it was a rumor that she was actually looking forward to hearing spread around— because it was absolutely correct.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

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#eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson love #eddie munson #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic

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lamogene · 11 months

Text

You and Mindy are suspicious that Ethan is ghostface so Mindy uses you to get closer to Ethan , he comes over to do a project with you for your film class. You don't know that he came over with other intentions as well.

Intercourse , restraining, creampie, baby trapping, vaginal intercourse and anal.

Y/n "Hey Ethan" you said trying to hide your nervousness while opening the

door to your apartment. Both you and Mindy came to the conclusion that Ethan was ghostface so you were pretty much bait so you had to get closer to Ethan since Mindy was openly suspicious so it wouldn't have worked.

"Hey y/n." He said coming in and starting to set up the camera for your guy's film class project, you had interviewed him but he wanted you in frame so he came over to film you. "Okay y/n , are you ready?" You nodded and sat down on the bed , starting to ask the questions that you asked him the day before on camera.

He raised his eyebrow. "Hmm , I was closer to you the other day." "I don't think so Ethan." You said raising your eyebrow at him. "Ya I was , do you mind?" You felt your heart beating fast from anxiety. "No , you can come closer..." He started to come closer to you while you were sitting on your bed. "Ya I think I was closer than this as well." He started getting closer , crawling onto your bed , Causing your eyes to widen while you started to lean back.

"Do you like me being this close to you?"."No not really." He leaned in 3 inches. "Are you going to kill me?" You asked him "Are-you-going-to-kill-me" He moved 6 inches closer to your face. "Every word you say I'll move in closer , now do you think I'm the killer?" "I don't know..., maybe." He moved 4 inches closer , you had no more space to move back away from him causing you to just let him be as close as possible to your face. "One more word and our lips will collide." You accidentally said his name "Etha-" Your eyes widened feeling him pull you into his lips , caressing your cheek. You couldn't help but give into his surprising charm , you were shocked that he was able to seduce you.

You were so distracted you didn't notice him pulling his pants down as well as him pulling a knife out from his pocket. All the sudden your eyes widened feeling a cold sharp object press against your thigh , your questions have now just been answered , you were paralyzed and didn't know what to say or do while you felt him cutting your underwear off. "Ethan what are you doing." "Answering your questions and getting what I want for answering them." You started to try and push him off but it was no use , he was bigger and stronger than you and had a knife but a bit of you wanted this, you became so turned on by him you couldn't not give into him anymore , it became harder to resist him.

He started holding you down while pushing himself into you causing you to let out a quiet moan , hoping he didn't hear you. "Moaning already y/n?" He said letting out a chuckle and bit his lip. "God , you're so wet...how would your partner in crime think about this? You taking my cock , you fucking traitor." You whined at the feeling of him stretching you open. "She'd probably kill you." He smirked while starting to slowly thrust into you. "You're saying a lot of insults for someone who could be killed after I fuck you, but maybe I'll keep you around longer , we'll see how I feel after this. Just be a good girl and you'll make it out alive."

You started gripping the sheets while holding back moans while he continued to thrust in and out of you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling him fully push himself into you , you couldn't take all of him. He was too big for you to handle , but you didn't want him to know that. You tried to push him off of you again but you were met with him pinning your wrist down. "Be a good girl y/n , I would hate to have to destroy that beautiful pussy of yours." Your legs started shaking from the pain of feeling him push himself as deep as possible inside of you hitting your cervix. Which you didn't even think was possible.

"I'd also hate to destroy that tight little asshole of yours , I don't think it will hurt you that much though since it seems like you can already take this dick like a champ." He said throwing your legs up onto his shoulder causing you to let out a gasp. "Ethan can you be gentle please..?" "Mmm not right now maybe next time." He said with a smirk plastered on his face. "Let me pull it out a bit for you" he said pulling himself almost all the way out with just the tip inside of you.

You finally felt yourself become more calm , until all of the sudden you felt him slam into you causing you to grip your sheets while he started to thrust in and out of you harder and faster with each stroke. You then pulled him in for a kiss to distract you from the pain of his size. You then felt his knife again but this time it was under your shirt , he start cutting your shirt open revealing your breast. "Your nipples are hard y/n..it seems like you're really enjoying this. Do you like being fucked by a killer? Being fucked by the man who killed one of your friends? You're such an awful friend y/n. You need to be punished." he said pulling out of you and flipping you over onto your stomach.

"hopefully your asshole is as tight as your pussy is." He said chuckling while he started slowly pushing his cock into your ass. "Fuck It's tighter than I expected , have you ever been fucked in the ass y/n." "No" you said tears forming in your eyes from the burning pain of him stretching you open. "Good , I want you to remember who fucked you in the ass for the first time."

He was surprisingly gentle thrusting into your ass. You felt him lay on top of you while he continued to thrust in and out of you. "You're Such a good girl y/n." He said while leaving little kisses on your neck , causing you to let out delicate moans. You felt so much pleasure from him thrusting in and out of you that you didn't even notice he was leaving hickeys all over your neck.

"Ethan...can you put it back in my pussy , I want you to make me cum." "Sure but you're gonna have to ride me." You nodded "I'm okay with that." "Okay." He said while pulling out of you , sitting down upwards on the bed. You quickly started to get on top of him , you were so needy for him. It made you feel awful since this man not only killed one of your best friends but he also killed your best friends girlfriend but you couldn't help yourself it was so wrong but felt so right.

You dropped yourself onto him taking all of him inside of you causing him to let out a loud moan. You chuckled "I'm in control now , and you're gonna like every second of it." you said while you started to bounce yourself up and down on his cock. Letting out little moans. "Your cock feels so good , fuck. Promise you'll fuck me again." "Absolutely." He said groaning and attempting to hold himself back from cumming ever since you got on top of him. He refused to cum before you did , you kept moaning his name knowing it was driving him crazy. "God you're so big , I never thought you had a big cock." You let a chuckle. "I always thought you had a pencil dick but this is probably the thickest cock I've ever had in my pussy." You started moaning again running your hands through his hair.

"Ethan am I being a good girl?" You said while bouncing on his cock faster. "Ye-s you're such a good girl y/n." He said while playing with your boobs and gently sucking on them. You started to feel him twitching inside of you. "Close already?" "No." He said holding back a moan. You started to tighten your walls around him on purpose getting ready to fake an orgasm just so you could get what you want.

"Ethan I can't take it anymore" You moaned his name repeatedly , gripping your walls around him as tight as you could. "Mm where are you gonna cum." "On yo-your belly." You nodded while smirking , continuing to ride him faster. "Fuck I'm gonna cum." He groaned out. He tried to pull out but you held onto him closer. "Y/n let go." You giggled. "No you're giving me what I want now. Give me that fucking cum , cum in my pussy Ethan." He tried pushing you off but he just couldn't do it no matter how hard he tried to get you off you were gripped onto him too tightly and he couldn't get your arms unwrapped around him. He let out his loud groans while emptying himself inside you. "Ya your such a good boy , give me all that cum." You finally unwrapped your arms around him and started making out with him until he pushed you off of him.

"Fuck why would you do that y/n." He said with a horrified look on his face. You giggled sticking your fingers in your pussy and licking his cum off your fingers. "I guess I just wanted to feel your warm seed inside of me. You got to feel my warm pussy , why shouldn't I be able to feel your warmth?" "Are you even on the fucking pill?" He said yelling at you. "Nope , isn't that so exciting though?" "You're fucking crazy!!" "Ya , I might be crazy but atleast I'm not an idiot who just fucked a girl raw. I always get what I want. And I wanted that cum as soon as I realized you were ghostface." You said letting out a chuckle. "But why y/n?" "Because I wanted to ...and I mean.... Now you can't murder me , you're crazy but would you the kill the mother of your own child? And if you fuck with me I'll tell everyone I couldn't say no because I was too scared." "God you're fucking evil y/n." Atleast I don't kill people , now fuck me again and actually make me cum." You said giggling.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #ghostface #smut #ethan landry smut

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