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fairyysoup · 1 year

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western nights

♫︎ western nights - ethel cain ♫︎

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: You're on a road trip to nowhere. Eddie wants to get the hell out of dodge. It's a match made in heaven- if only it were, actually, heaven.

words: 13k

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, oral sex (f + m receiving), exhibitionism, light choking, spitting, eddie is 24, reader's age unspecified (over 21), illegal activities, theft, smoking, alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, bonnie & clyde type dynamic, mechanic!eddie, eddie's trying hard to be a good boy he's just got issues, pining, perv!reader, some slight dubcon/somno for a sec if you squint, there was only one bed, graphic depictions of violence, a drunk guy being nasty to both eddie and reader, bar fight, blood, arguments, angst, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, an overall janky relationship here, inspired by the song western nights by ethel cain

a/n: *slaps fic* this bad boy can be written with so many cold medicines in my head <3 ethel cain if you see this do NOT interact i have done zero justice to your song and also completely disregarded some key aspects of the themes of it lol this is loosely based at best

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

He’s never looked more beautiful on his Harley in the parking lot, breaking into the ATMs, sleeping naked when it gets too hot…

You’ve become something of a connoisseur of gas station coffee.

You know which chains have the best. Love’s always has the best and freshest, with the most options of flavors. Pilot is usually a crapshoot, depending on what area of the country you’re in. Occasionally, if you can find it, Bodega doesn’t disappoint. And the worst, by far, is always Shell. Shell coffee, you think, must come directly from the sewers of whatever backwater town you’re trundling through.

You’re somewhere in Indiana, you guess, judging by the state-shaped keychains on the rotating rack next to the cash register. You grab a state map from a magazine stand and toss it in with the rest of your purchase. You were lucky to have found a Love’s so you could finally afford yourself some proper dark roast coffee; all the watered down arabica stuff you’ve been getting since Cleveland has only been making your head ache.

“What’s the quickest way to Indianapolis?” You ask the dead-eyed attendant ringing you up, a 20-something year old guy with bags under his eyes and bad skin.

He chews his licorice like a camel chews straw, staring up at you blankly. “I dunno. Never been.”

You look from him, to the map, and back. “Cool. What town is this?”

“Hawkins.” His bored-by-you attitude is overwhelming.

“Thanks so much for the help.” You afford the attendant a tight smile as you grab your bag of snacks and head out. It’s going to be a long night.

The air outside is stifling, summer heat hanging in the muggy air like a fog. The humidity makes your hair stick uncomfortably to the back of your neck as you peel off your old green hunting jacket and tie it around your waist. You’ve parked your van under the fluorescent-lit gas pump overhang, providing the proper lighting for you to spread the map of Indiana across the hood and bend over it, using your full coffee as a paperweight. You rip open the singular Slim-Jim you could afford for dinner, and pore over it.

There’s commotion across the parking lot, which stirs you from your rumination over the map. You glance up; there are two guys loitering by a telephone booth in one corner of the lot, sharing a cigarette. Teenagers who have nowhere else to be on a Friday night, you suppose. Five yards away from them, a third crouches in front of a badly vandalized ATM, the cause of the commotion. He seems to be hacking at the wiring with a pocket knife.

You ignore it. So far, on this trip, you’ve seen far worse than a guy stealing petty cash from a gas station ATM. Tracing your fingers across the paper, it looks like if you take state route 13 to I-69, you’ll be in Indianapolis by midnight. Shouldn’t be too difficult, as long as you can find the 13, and then you can find a place to crash in the city.

Grabbing an old highlighter from your pocket, you mark your route in bright pink. The guy from the ATM seems to have gotten what he wanted, moving quickly across the parking lot with his head held high, like he has every right to be there. He approaches a motorcycle parked on the opposite side of the pump from you, and begins feeding dollar bills into the machine.

“Hey, do you know how to get to the 13 from here?” You can’t see much more than his leather-clad shoulder and hip jutting out from around the pump, the front tire of his Harley sticking out from behind his leg.

There’s a pause, and then his head pops out from around the pump. A curtain of unruly dark hair frames a long neck, big doe-like eyes and flushed lips pouting at you in confusion. It makes you freeze. “Sorry?”

“I, uh-” What were you trying to do? Get on the right course. Right. Of course. “State- uh- state route 13? I’m trying to get to, um, Indianapolis?” You cringe at your own stuttering, nails digging into the paper before you.

The man stares at you for a long time, dark eyes framed by thick, curling lashes sizing you up slowly. Then, he rounds the pump. “The highway’s just down the road- keep going west and you won’t miss it.”

“Great, thanks.” You grab up your coffee and the map, crunching it between your tense fingers. He hasn’t moved, still leaning against the gas pump, arms crossed, staring at you. It makes you nervous, in more ways than one.

“You won’t get far in that heap, though.”

You pause. Your knees threaten to wobble under you as you look up at him. Your hand is on the door, you could simply ignore him and get in, but something in his gaze makes you stop. Is that… genuine concern? Or is he just putting on a show for you?

“What do you mean?” The heat of the coffee burns through the paper cup and torches your fingers.

“Well, your fender’s bashed in and, I dunno if you noticed, but you have a crack in your windshield,” he gestures at the long crack running horizontally across the glass, just above where your line of sight usually is. “Probably got a lot more shit wrong with it, too, I could hear you coming a mile up the road. Junkyard find?”

“Something like that.” More like, sat in your parents’ garage for so long that you took a chance on the fucked up radiator and bailed. “She’s good, though. She’ll get me another 80 miles, easy.”

“Are you only going 80 miles?” The guy questions, “Or are you going way past that and only doing the 80 miles tonight?”

If he wasn’t so pretty, with a note of flirtation in his voice, you’d be hesitant as hell to tell him. “The second one.”

ATM guy sucks on his teeth, rocking back on heels that creak with the movement. Rubber soled work boots flash at you from beneath torn blue denim. “Dunno if I should let you go alone, then. You might bust your carburetor halfway there and be stranded.”

That puts alarm sirens in your head. You’d back away if your car wasn’t situated between the two of you. “Thanks, but, uh… I think I can handle myself.”

The teasing smile drops off his face quickly, replaced by a look of subtle desperation. “No, don’t get me wrong, I’m not- I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself. Obviously. Or you wouldn’t be trucking along by yourself through Nowheresville, Indiana,” he chuckles. “I just, ah… let me level with you?”

Your face screws up, but you lean your hip against the fender nearest you- the one that isn’t fucked up. What is it with this guy?

“I’m trying to jump ship. Anywhere’s better than here, but I really want to get to the west coast. I don’t know where you’re headed, but I’ve got my sights on San Francisco. And, uh, I have experience fixing cars, working in a garage,” he confesses. “But I don’t have a ride of my own- this isn’t even my bike, really. So, if you’re heading to the city, and you could use someone to make sure your car doesn’t kick it going over 75, I’m your man. Besides,” he bats his pretty lashes at you, his fingers fiddling with the end of his long hair as he brandishes a wad of ATM-stolen cash, “I have gas money.”

“You want to hitch a ride with me?”

“If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, I bid you fair and safe travels.” He bows dramatically, throwing his hand in the direction of the highway you’d asked about. “But if you ask me, I think you’d be doing both of us a favor in the long run if you let me come with. Just for insurance, y’know.”

“Insurance?” You parrot incredulously.

“Yeah,” he grins. He has dimples, a wide smile that stretches across his face and makes him even prettier than you can stand to look at directly. “Just insurance. No other reason.”

“Mhm,” you grunt, going over the positives and negatives in your head.

Positives- your car is a piece of shit and you’re sure he’s right, you’re working on borrowed time and you’re less than halfway to your desired destination. Plus, he’s unfairly nice to look at.

Negatives- you don’t know shit for fuck about him, other than the fact that he’s apparently trying to leave town and makes a hobby of breaking into ATMs. And, hell, even Ted Bundy was supposed to be charming and cute, at first. This guy could be a crazy ax murderer, could be a rapist, could be a junkie who’ll steal your car and leave you stranded, could be, could be-

“MUNSON!”

“Fuck.” ATM guy glances over his shoulder, then ducks quickly around the side of the gas pump as the station attendant comes storming out of the store. He crouches, pressing his hands to the glass window of the passenger’s side and peers through the cab at you on the other side with pleading eyes. “Can you get me a couple miles down the road, at least?”

“What about your bike?”

“Not my bike,” he tells you for a second time. “My buddy’ll pick it up when he hears about this, please.”

The station attendant is making his way across the parking lot now, looking miffed. It’s clearly the most energy he’s put into anything today, but he isn’t moving very fast.

You’ve made worse decisions in your life. You sigh. “Shit. Get in.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He pops open the passengers door as you slide into the driver’s seat, tossing the crumpled up map in the back. You guess you’ve found a GPS, for the time being.

“Does my insurance have a name?” you ask as you peel out of the gas station. The attendant hovers by the pump you’d been occupying, looking lamely at the abandoned motorcycle in your rearview.

“Eddie,” ATM guy says. A ring-clad hand lifts between you, hovering over the gear shift and waiting for your own to settle into it for a shake, “Eddie Munson.”

You eye his outstretched hand, your stomach doing flips, but you’re unsure if it’s because of him or the very situation he’s just put you in. You lift your hand and bat his with your knuckles, a half-hearted acknowledgement without the formality. “Pleasure doing business with you, Eddie.”

Eddie coughs, shifting up in his seat to peer behind you at the station. “Fuckin’ Keith. You can just drop me off at the next exit, it’s no biggie.”

“Hm? I thought you were coming with me to Indianapolis, hot stuff.”

Eddie whips his head around to look at you. “Seriously? You don’t- you don’t have to, I know it’s a big ask-”

“You want me to change my mind?”

“Not particularly.” He sinks down in his seat again. “Guess I figured you think I’m more of a liability than anything.”

“I do, but I need all that cash you swiped from the ATM,” you hum with a snarky grin on your face.

Eddie chuckles, wringing his hands in his lap. His knuckles tighten and relax beneath heavy steel rings. “Yeah, better I do it than you, huh?” There’s an awkward pause, and then he blurts, “Do you have any road music in this thing?”

You reach forward and hit the volume button for the stereo. You’d been halfway through Danzig’s self titled album- Mother kicks in with the chorus. In the darkness, you don’t see the way Eddie’s eyes sparkle with adoration as he looks at you.

“I think you and I are gonna get along great, sweetheart.”

You ignore how your thighs press in on themselves while you sip your coffee, and you turn onto highway 13, headed for Indianapolis.

When you step out of the bathroom in the motel room in Indianapolis, you find Eddie hunched over by the window, wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. The chain on his wrist jingles as he smacks at the A/C unit beneath the drawn curtains.

“Everything okay?” You ask, pretty much knowing what the answer is. Your hair drips water down your back, but you can still feel the muggy summer heat in the room practically smothering your pores.

“Damn Motel 6 A/C,” he grumbles as he gives it one last smack on the side, to no avail. “The unit’s broken, there’s gonna be no cool air in the room.”

“That’s okay, we can crack a window.”

“In this part of the city?” Eddie scoffs, looking over at you. “Believe me, princess, I applaud your optimism- I would have just driven away from me there at the gas station, given the chance. But if we crack that window, we’re gonna get fucking robbed, first thing. Believe me.”

“I believe you,” you huff, clutching the itchy motel towel to your wet skin. Usually you would just pull on a tank and a pair of panties and call it a night, but there’s no such luck for you here. You have a backpack full of old, dirty clothes, and no clean underwear to speak of- you’ve been washing them in public bathroom sinks since Columbus. “Well, I’m just gonna sleep naked, then. You do what you’ve gotta do.”

“What- you’re gonna- what?” Eddie blathers, sitting back on his heels. You stare at him for a second- he’s a vision of flushed skin and a cloud of brunette hair cascading over his shoulders. Knobbly knees stick up at awkward angles, hairy thighs disappear into the hem of his boxers drawn tight across his skin. Your eyes glance over the ominous bulge in the crotch of them, not willing to think about those parts of a man you barely know. “You really think- I mean- is that wise?”

“Are you gonna get frisky with me, Eddie?” You ask with a teasing voice. You’d learned enough about him on the way to the city- 24 years old, no prospects, big dreams, ran a D&D club in high school, worked in a garage to help pay the bills- that you’re fairly certain he’s a good enough guy to keep his hands to himself. You just enjoy watching his big eyes go rounder at the insinuation.

“No, of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Eddie looks mortified. He backtracks, “Unless- unless you wanted me to, I mean-”

“Don’t overanalyze it,” you tell him mildly, turning your back to him to rifle through your bag. “We’re both adults, it’s hot, there’s one bed and we’re both paying for it. Something tells me you’ve done worse things than lay next to someone without clothes on.”

Eddie blows a long breath out of pursed lips, not moving from his seat on the floor. He doesn’t deny your accusation, just mutters, “You put so much faith in me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

You drop the wet towel on the floor and round the bed to turn down the sheets. Eddie’s eyes trail you; you can feel them burning into your skin, lit by the dim yellow light on the bedside table. It takes a moment for him to finally move, a single trembling hand reaching up to swipe a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the table.

“You gonna sit there on the floor all night?” You muse as you lay back on the bed. It’s too fucking hot. The dampness from the shower hasn’t dried, but now it’s simply growing with the rate your body is perspiring. Your hair and skin stick to the white sheets, which feel pasty each time you move.

“Just getting my bearings,” Eddie says, his voice tight and hollow. “You smoke?”

“Not especially, but I won’t stop you.”

The smell of tobacco hangs in the heavy air more potently than you expected. The humidity dampens the vapor, making it sting your nose and leech into your mouth, even though you’re not the one directly breathing it. It strikes you as devastatingly intimate- the thought that you might be breathing the smoke that’s already touched his lungs.

“Do you mind if I strip down, too?” Eddie asks after a long time of deliberating as he smoked. “Not that- I mean, I don’t have any pajamas, so…”

“Do what you need to do, honey,” you murmur, repeating what you’d told him before. “We can find a laundromat in the morning. Maybe get you a change of clothes somewhere.”

“Right.” He doesn’t say much after that, but you listen to him rustling around, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray and flicking off the bedside light.

He straightens up, silhouette looming in the blue-dark from the curtained window. You watch from the corner of your eye while his backlit form hooks its thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, and drops them.

He clambers onto the bed beside you, careful not to bump any part of you. You refuse to look at him, scanning the asbestos popcorn on the ceiling above you with an overabundance of scrutiny, willing yourself to focus on anything but Eddie’s beautiful body, especially what he has below the belt. It’s a bad idea, no go. You don’t want to see it, don’t even want to think about it- what it looks like, how big it is, how it curves, what kind of hair surrounds it, if any-

You’re thinking about it.

And you told him not to overanalyze it. To be calm about it. What a fucking joke.

“You know, I’m not as easy as I might seem,” you blurt out suddenly, unaware of why you even do. You mostly come off sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself of it.

Eddie’s head rustles against the pillow as he glances at you in the dark. “I don’t think you are.”

“Okay. Just- just making sure,” you stutter out. “All evidence to the contrary, and all.”

“I’m not expecting to get lucky with you,” he tells you honestly, a little flatly, like he’s afraid of any inflection in his voice betraying him. “You know, beyond the ride west.”

“Right.”

You both regress into silence. You think you’ve both said your piece on the matter. You might not trust Eddie, not entirely, but you at least know he’s not gonna try anything stupid if you let yourself fall asleep. You actually think that he’s asleep after so many minutes, until he opens his mouth again.

“It’s really fucking hot, isn’t it?” He croaks. His hands twitch by his sides, feet jammed under the downturned covers, but everything else bare to the open room, like you. His pinkie brushes yours, and he nearly smacks himself jerking his hand back toward his stomach.

“Yeah, it’s not… it’s not good.” You blink into the darkness. “Sorry, you must be regretting coming with me all this way.”

“Nah, not a chance.” He brushes it off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve been itching to get out of there since I graduated. Feel kinda bad that I didn’t leave a note for my uncle, but it’s not the first time I’ve bailed on him. I can always call him from a pay phone. Kinda wish I had my guitar, though.”

“You play guitar?” you ask dazedly. You don’t have a hard time imagining it, now that you think about it. He has that rocker look about him, the kind that could grace magazines and be on posters on teenage girls’ walls, if he played his cards right. If he got his lucky break.

“Yeah. Pretty good, too, I guess.” He sighs. There’s a wistfulness in it, like he’s reminiscing on something from his past. “It’s okay. I can pick up another one once I get to California. Dropped a mint on the one I had back home, but I guess Wayne can always pawn it. Maybe get himself a nicer place.”

You chuckle. “And you think I’m the optimist here.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Eddie scoffs, then deepens his voice quite suddenly. “Two optimists, both alike in dignity-”

A burst of laughter bubbles from your chest, making Eddie grin as you gesture at your bodies. “Or lack, thereof.”

“In fair Indianapolis, where we lay our scene.” He ends his recitation giggling, the flimsy bed frame jolting with the shaking of his chest. “Radiant Juliet, you never did tell me where your chariot is taking me.”

“I’m not sure, really,” you admit, mellowing your laughter into a quiet giggle. “I just wanted to leave home. I was suffocating there, I needed to get out. See what’s out there for me, if anything.”

“And have you seen much?”

“Not much,” you tell him quietly. “Mostly truck stops and shitty roadside attractions. But we’re in the midwest, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” He lays his hand back down on the mattress beside you.

You turn your body towards him, damp sheets clinging to your skin as you move. “California might not be such a bad idea.”

Eddie turns his head and glances at you, dark eyes finding you in the dim moonlight. “No? I’ll have to fix your car, then.”

“You do that, and I’ll make sure to get you where you’re going,” you whisper.

“Deal.” His eyes linger on your face, just inches away from his on the pillow. Flickering in the moonlight, two voids that hold all the stars in the night sky seem to take you in like you’re more beautiful than they could ever be.

This time, when your fingers brush, he doesn’t jerk away. This time, you don’t avert your eyes when you look down at his cock, but you sure do regret it when you don’t reach out to touch it.

He’s so pretty. You want to.

I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue, starting fights at the bar across the street like you do…

Your underwear and his come out of the dryer wrapped around each other. You spend a minute disentangling them, a small heap of clothes in a rolling laundry basket in front of you. The closest laundromat to the Motel 6 had been a five minute drive down the street.

You’d woken up with your head on his chest, your arm draped across his bare stomach, despite how you’d fallen asleep barely touching him. As if your unconscious body had known more about your wants than you. His hand had been tangled in your hair, palm cradling your cheek and a bit of your neck, like his own unconscious wanted to keep you against him, too.

The morning had been easy- the easiest it’s been since you hit the road. Eddie seems to have given you a sense of purpose you didn’t have before, driving around aimlessly, only stopping for fast food every once in a while when you remembered to eat something other than beef jerky and coffee. Once you had extracted yourself from his grip, you’d gone to buy him clothes from the resale store next to the motel. It wasn’t hard to find a plain black shirt and jeans, but used underwear was something you didn’t want to mess with. You’d brought it back to the motel, along with some food from the Waffle House across the way, and you ate cross legged on the bed while he showered and put on his new-ish clothes.

But now, you can’t stop feeling his hand cradling your head. His hot, sweaty skin against your arm. Your fingernails raking lightly through the trail of hair on his stomach, dragging through his pubic hair, your knuckles just barely brushing up the side of his length- thick, uncut, and so so pretty. Then, stopping nervously when you’d gotten too bold, fingers skimming over sensitive skin too close to his groin, and he’d twitched in his sleep.

You want him. You don’t even know him, and you want him so badly you can feel it even now, an aching blush between your legs turning into a dull throb when you so much as think about him.

You toss all the freshly washed clothes into a plastic bag that you’d grabbed by the door to the laundromat, and haul it out to your van. He’d told you to meet him at the bar across the street when you were done, since he needed to make a few calls on their payphone- he’d even given you his weathered denim vest before he left.

“For insurance,” he winked. “Uh, don’t wash it, though… I stitched it by hand, it’ll fall apart.”

You don’t put it in with the clean clothes. It smells like smoke and alcohol and him, the edges frayed and yellowing a bit. You hold it in your lap for a second, plucking at the stringy bits around the arm holes. Maybe you can convince him to let you soak it in a sink somewhere, hand washed and dried carefully over a working A/C unit, wherever you can find one. You don’t know when he last washed the damn thing, if ever.

When you pull into the parking lot of the dive bar, and you clutch the denim vest in your hand as you step out of your van, something sharp prods your thumb. You hiss, slamming the car door shut and examining what it was. The sharp point of a pin on the vest- which reads Motörhead- had come loose and pricked your skin, which now threatens to ooze blood all over the aged denim.

“Fuck,” you murmur, bringing your thumb to your mouth as you lock the car. You struggle with the vest while you walk towards the door to the dive, trying to resituate the pin so it doesn’t go missing.

You find him loitering beside a billiards table, pool stick in hand, a cigarette in his mouth. When he sees you walk in, his eyes light up, and he nearly drops the stick prancing over to you.

“Told ya I’d still be here- hey, you okay?” His grin turns very readily into a frown when he sees you sucking your thumb like a child.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you mutter clumsily, “your pin just nicked me s’all.”

“Oh, shit,” he curses, reaching for your hand. “Lemme see- no, let me see.” He forces your hand open when you try to close it, and scrutinizes the little pin prick as if it’s the worst battle wound he’s ever seen. “Should’a checked to make sure all the pins were right, this happens all the time. I’m so sorry, baby, my fault.”

Baby. Your brain tries to process it. He called you baby.

He’s also kissing your thumb, cradling your hand with excessive care. He’s tasting your blood, sucking a little on the pin prick like you had been, so your skin is wet with a mix of his and your spit. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of the way he touches you. Fleeting as his touches have been, anyways. You melt a little under his gaze as his round eyes blink up at you innocently.

“S’okay,” you tell him with a wobbly smile. “Did you make your calls?”

He looks at you softly, a reserved smile on his face. “I did. Wayne’s miffed, but he’ll live. Told him I’d send him a postcard.”

You giggle at that, thinking you’d sign it along with him. Sorry for stealing away your nephew; it will happen again. “Good. Buy me a drink, handsome?”

Eddie beams at you, and his dimples crease his cheeks as he turns to the bartender. There’s a sweet, boyish manner in the way he puffs out his chest and orders you a drink, his arm circling your waist as he moves you smoothly toward the bar. As soon as a whisky sour has been placed in front of you, he turns and squeezes your arm.

“Hey, I gotta finish this game,” he nods at the pool table he’d been stationed at. “I got some money on it. Y’okay with hanging out for a minute?”

“Sure,” you chirp, sipping your drink. “Wipe the floor with ‘em for me?”

“It’s in the bag,” he whispers at you conspiratorially. You push his vest at him, imagining he wants to take his insurance back now that you know he’s not taking off on you, but he shakes his head. “No, you wear it. It’ll look good on you.”

His eyes light up when you shrug the vest over your worn out white t-shirt. As you lift your drink, and he turns back to his game, you think you’d do anything to keep him looking at you like that.

Eddie wins. You don’t know how much he bet on the game, but there seems to be hurt feelings when he collects the money that had been placed on the table. You’ve never been much of a gambler, and he hadn’t struck you as one- but what do you know? He certainly bet on you getting him out of Hawkins, and you certainly took a chance on him.

You don’t think much of it. It’s late afternoon- the sun’s going down, and you figure you’d better get going, but Eddie wraps his arms around you and says, “Dance with me.” And you do.

The jukebox in the corner only plays country classics. Patsy Cline croons over the speakers, taking you back to a time in your far off childhood. Eddie sways with you to the music, and even though there’s barely any rhythm to his dancing, you find yourself falling into it with him. Your head on his shoulder, his curly hair tickling the side of your face. His breath on your neck, cool on your heated skin.

That is, until a hand wraps around Eddie’s shoulder and jerks him away from you. A man with blond hair, clearly a few too many drinks in, snarls at him, “That game was bullshit and you know it.”

Eddie blinks at him. “If by ‘bullshit’ you mean I beat you, then sure.”

“You di’int beat me, you cheated,” the man sneers. “I want my money back.”

“Yeah, no.” Eddie claps the man on the shoulder, trying to push him away. “I won the game, I get the money. That’s how gambling works.”

You step back when the man’s beady eyes fall on you, peering at him over Eddie’s shoulder. “What’re you lookin’ at?”

“You leave her out of this, buddy,” Eddie growls dangerously, still forcing the man back with one strong hand on his shoulder. He’s trying to put himself between you and the man, you know. Still, you feel the need to fist your hand in the back of Eddie’s shirt and pull him away.

“I ain’t your buddy. Whatcha lookin’ at, bitch?” The man reaches out and yanks roughly on your arm, making you yelp in alarm.

And that’s when Eddie’s fist connects with the man’s jaw.

There’s a sickening crack. In the chaos, it somehow occurs to you that Eddie’s wearing all those chunky rings. You wonder if they could be considered a deadly weapon, in the same vein as brass knuckles.

It takes you a second to get through the initial shock, finding it hard to focus on who’s doing what. Eddie and the man have barrelled through a couple of tables, knocking over chairs. Eddie has the man pinned to the edge of the pool table, a flurry of fists moving from all sides.

“You don’t touch my girl!” Eddie shouts at the man. “You don’t fuckin’ touch my girl!”

His girl.

They tumble to the floor. The man curses and spits blood at him from a cut lip. A strong fist hits the side of Eddie’s face once, twice-

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” The words are shouted by the bartender, finally intervening, pulling the blond man off of Eddie. As the bartender restrains the unruly man, a second pulls an equally enraged Eddie away from him, separating the two.

By the time you collect a bruised and bloodied Eddie into your arms, you’ve already tuned out the rest of the ruckus going on around you. Someone suggests that you should leave, but the words only barely register. You’re already pulling Eddie out the door and to the car.

You don’t even remember if you closed the tab.

Trouble’s always gonna find you, baby, but so will I. Crying only because I’m happy, hold me across every state line…

You don’t know when you started crying. Maybe it was around the time that Eddie fell unconscious.

Tears burn in your eyes like you’ve poured gasoline in them, but no matter how badly it stings you just keep sniffling and driving, tearing down the interstate away from Indianapolis, toward St. Louis. You hopped on I-70 as quickly as you could, and from there you’ve been lost in a world of your own.

He’d almost look peaceful, if it wasn’t for the blood on his jaw and the nasty shiner on his cheekbone. You keep telling yourself it’s not bad enough for him to need to be taken to a hospital. You can’t afford to go to a hospital, and even if you could, you’d have to explain how he got in this condition. It’s a recipe for jail time. You know that. You know.

You just want to keep him safe, that’s all.

He hadn’t instigated the fight, not really. He’d just swung first. He was just defending you.

His girl.

When it gets to be too much, you pull over. Headlights gleam bright and then pass by in the dark with a whoosh of air. You think you must have crossed over into Illinois by now, or you’re getting close to it. The traffic has lightened considerably.

You rest your head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths, but the tears keep coming in streams. A while ago, you had a mattress in the back of this van. That was before it started having problems, and it sat in your family’s garage for a year and a half. You should have put a mattress in it when you took off, but you weren’t thinking that far ahead. You were having a breakdown, something like you’re having now, only worse. It was a manic, get-away-or-die-there kind of breakdown.

Breathe in. You’re not gonna die. Breathe out. He’s breathing.

Once Eddie cracks his eyes open, he flexes his jaw with a groan. You can tell he’s confused by the inquisitive noise he makes, but when he looks at you, all that disappears in a heartbeat.

“Hey, what’re you- oh, god. Sweetheart, don’t cry.”

As if that doesn’t make you want to cry harder. His hand lands tentatively on your shoulder, stiff fingered but light in touch. He shuffles closer to you, pulling you against him to sob into his secondhand shirt.

It’s pathetic, you’re sure of it. You feel pathetic, twisting the cheap cotton of his shirt in your hands and saturating it with tears, as he shushes you and soothes a hand over your hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his aching lips to your scalp in an attempt to calm you down. “We’ll be okay. I’m right here. What can I do?”

For some reason, the question makes you mad. “You don’t fucking fight,” you sob at him, the anger in your voice making him freeze. “You don’t- you don’t get into fights. I can deal with a lot of shit, Eddie Munson, but I can’t deal with that.”

“Okay, honey. Okay.”

“No fighting.”

“No fighting,” he repeats affirmatively, petting your head. Then he adds, “No gambling.”

“No bars.”

“Well-”

“No bars.”

“All right,” Eddie resigns, resting his chin on top of your head. Once you’ve stopped crying, from what he can feel, he tells you softly, “I’m not… I’m not like that, you know. I want you to know. I don’t fight, not usually.”

“You did.”

“I did,” he agrees. “I just don’t like… I didn’t like him touching you. Disrespecting you like that- did he hurt you?”

“No,” you lie. The guy had yanked your arm a little too hard, your wrist still smarting a bit. Nothing near what Eddie had taken. “He hurt you, though.”

“I’ve had worse, trust me.” His tone is ominous, like you don’t really want to know the heavy details of it. “I’m not a fighter. Used to be if I saw danger, I’d just turn tail and run. I usually just take shit on the chin. But I never had anything to fight for before, really.”

You sniffle loudly, grossly. “I don’t want you to fight for me.”

“I’m gonna protect you, sweetheart. No matter what,” he insists. “Long as we’re together, I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you. Okay?”

Long as we’re together. Like you’re a couple, like you didn’t just meet by chance at a gas station a little more than 24 hours ago. Like you’re in love.

His girl.

“My dad’s in prison,” Eddie blurts out, raking a shaky hand through your hair. “He, uh… he was a fighter. And a thief. And a gambler. And a liar. He tried his best to make me be like him, but I don’t- I don’t wanna be like him.” Eddie sighs, a sad sound that rips through your already bleeding heart. “I thought maybe getting out of Hawkins would set me straight. Finally give me a chance to make something better of myself, prove I’m not like my old man. I tried, but after high school I got in some trouble, and Wayne had to sell my old van to pay for my bail. Now I’m here, and… Guess you just take yourself wherever you go, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agree. Your fingers curve against his hip, squeezing the skin there. “So we have to try to change ourselves in the meantime, while we get where we’re going.”

Eddie breathes in, and it sounds an awful lot like a sniffle.

“Eddie. Are you crying?”

“No.” He is.

You lift your head with a wet, coughing chuckle at his futile attempt to hide it. You look up at him, your fingers tucking a lock of unruly, dark hair behind his ear. He’s staring back at you with glassy eyes, the tip of his nose gone red with the tears he’s holding back. He just barely flinches when your knuckles brush the bruise on his cheekbone.

“Hey, handsome,” you coo at him softly, your touch featherlight on his skin. He blinks, a tear dropping from his lashes. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?”

“Okay.” His lip wobbles. “Let me hold you a little longer, first?”

“Of course, Eddie.” You fall into his grasping hands, yanking you to him like a child searching for the comfort of his favorite teddy bear. You’d let him hold you as long as he liked.

You wash his face in a dirty rest area just west of Terre Haute. In the middle of the night, no one is around to tell you not to, so you follow him into the men’s room and take your time wiping the blood from his jaw and his hands. You gingerly apply a bandage from your car’s console to his bruised cheek, while he sits in the front seat and brackets your hips with his knees.

He gazes up at you like a man seeing God.

The neighbors beat on the walls, while I'm face first in the bed. Show me how much I mean to you while I’m lying in these sheets undressed…

You sleep in the rest area that night, in the back of your van. No mattress, just your backs to the hard floor of the cab. With no A/C again, you shuck your clothes and spread a single white blanket over your bodies, more for modesty’s sake than anything else. Even though it’s unlikely that a cop is going to run you down in the middle of nowhere, you’d rather not get cited for public indecency.

He holds you all night long, his arms around you and his chest against your back giving you peace, but he doesn’t touch you in any of the ways that you desperately want him to.

It takes the better part of a day to drive to St. Louis. Eddie swallows a couple tylenol for his face with his truck stop coffee and eggs, smiling softly at you from across a bright yellow plywood table in a cafeteria. From the look on his face, you doubt that he regrets the fight that gave him his wounds.

By the time your old van rattles up to another Motel 6 at the outskirts of the city, Eddie’s shaking his head. “The car’s not gonna take much more than this. I need to give it a good look, maybe borrow a tool kit and give it a tune up.”

“Whatever you say, magic man,” you muse at him. “Let’s just sleep in a real bed tonight, huh?”

His head tilted back, he looks at you sideways with a lopsided smile. You can tell his face is still hurting, but he puts on a brave face and bats his eyelashes at you. “Sounds good to me, princess.”

His touch lingers on you more, now, than it did yesterday. His fingers grazing your forearm as you open the glass door to the motel office, his hand hovering over your lower back as you sign for the room. His arm slung over your shoulder as he follows you down to the room, twirling the key around his finger.

“You think the A/C will work this time?” He asks you lightheartedly as he turns the key in the lock.

“Only one way to find out,” you return with the same warmth in your voice. If you from two days ago could hear yourself, and that ooey-gooey note of lovesickness in your voice, your past self might keel over and die. When did this happen?

You drop your bag of clothes on the bench by the bathroom door. Eddie bangs around the A/C unit a bit, until something starts whirring, and he makes a gleeful noise.

“It’s aliiiiive!” He announces dramatically, emulating Dr. Frankenstein. You giggle as he leaps toward you, practically throwing you onto the bed in excitement. “We have cool air. We can actually wear clothes to bed tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, not even trying to hide your disappointment at the thought. The best part of your last two mornings has been waking up to his naked body beside yours, warm and soft and littered with tattoos that you just can’t stop looking at.

You mean, I won’t get to wake up to your skin on mine tomorrow? I won’t be able to pretend like I’m not staring at your dick and imagining all the things I want to do to it? How will I be able to admire you for my own perverted gain?

You don’t even realize that you’re stroking your fingers across his bruised cheek until he leans into your touch. Then you take inventory of your current position- your back to the mattress, his body hovering over you, half covering you. Caging you in with his arms. His long hair creates a veil around your faces.

When he blinks his eyes open at you, you can tell where his mind is before he opens his mouth. “Did we have our first fight yesterday?”

You frown, a puff of air exiting your nose. “No, I think I’d call it laying ground rules.”

“Ground rules,” Eddie nods, his sore cheek rubbing against your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he likes the pain, since he won’t stop pushing into it. “I’m not great at remembering rules. What were they, again?”

“No fighting.”

“Right, and no gambling.”

“No bars.”

He squints. “Is that one still up for negotiation, or…?” He trails off, giggling as you smack your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Kidding! I’m kidding. No bars. Got it.”

“And that was it,” you tell him sweetly. “Unless there was another one you wanted to add?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his fingers twirling in the hair right beside your ear as he gets lost in thought. Say what you’re thinking, your mind practically screams at him. Please, god, say what we’re both thinking…

Eddie licks his lips and finally says, “No sleeping with clothes on?”

Gotcha. A creeping smile stretches your face, trying to play coy even when your heart’s beating a mile a minute. Eddie’s eyebrows raise at you, waiting for an answer.

“I’m not easy, Eddie.”

“I know,” he tells you, mirroring your smile. “I don’t expect to get lucky with you.”

“I know,” you hum. Your hand drifts up the side of his torso, a more firm and languorous touch than you’d previously been brave enough to give him. “But do you want to?”

Eddie shudders, and it’s the first honest to god evidence you have that you turn him on as much as he does you. The realization feels rapturous.

“God, yes.”

He kisses you then, open-mouthed and passionate, his hand cupping your jaw to keep you where he wants you. Your nails scratch up his back with a loud tearing sound against his shirt, and he chuckles as you frantically clutch at him with all your strength.

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmurs, pecking your lips briefly before descending to bite at your jaw. “You’ve been wanting this since that first night. Feelin’ me up in the morning, like I wouldn’t notice…”

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” you hiccup as his hand cups the crotch of your jeans, rocking the meat of his palm firmly where you’re dying for friction. “Oh, ffffuck Eddie, m’sorry…”

“And here you were, thinking I was the pervert,” he grunts. “‘Least I can keep my hands to myself, hm?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry,” you babble at him, hands shaking as they grip onto his shoulders. Now that the aching throb between your legs is back, and he’s finally giving it attention, you can’t seem to come up with a more coherent sentence. Your face grows hot, but not at the fact that you’d been caught in your lechery- just because he turns you on more than you can think to admit.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet thing,” Eddie whispers. His dark eyes are lined up with yours, the curtain of his hair shielding them from reflecting any of the light from the desk lamp- it’s just you and the starry voids of space, locked in your own little world. He rubs his hand back and forth with practiced pressure against the front of your jeans, your hips kicking up against him. “I want you to touch me. Want you to do whatever you want with me, baby.”

“Whatever I want?” Your fingers dragging up his lower back, under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin.

“Anything,” he insists, kissing you again. Wet and sloppy, teeth clacking as you grind up into his palm. Your thick denim jeans are about the most abominable things that have ever existed.

You feel like your head’s on sideways with how pent up you already are. “I want you to fuck me Eddie- jesus chr- can we do that? Right now? Please?”

Eddie laughs. A happy, whole-hearted, almost disbelieving laugh. “Thought I was gonna be the one begging you, after all this…” His breath hitches, the touch of his hand leaving you so that he can push himself back. “Lemme get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

You nod quickly, earning a pleased hum from him. The way he undresses you is touched by reverence; his fingers slow as they drag the cotton of your shirt over your head, grazing your skin all the way. His lips dancing across your collarbone as he undoes the front of your stupid fucking jeans. You just want them off, done with and laying in a pile to be forgotten about by the motel room door, but Eddie has other plans.

“Slow.” He grabs your hip to stop your wiggling, fingers curled around the back of the waistband of them as he pulls the denim down your thighs. “We’ve got all night, baby. I’m not leaving. Not going anywhere.”

“I want you,” you insist desperately, sounding like a broken record. Your distress is evident on your face, in the way you clench your thighs together to hide the obnoxious wet spot growing on your cotton panties. You wonder if he’d felt it when he was touching you over your jeans, if the heat and dampness had soaked through the denim as well. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“You have me, sweetheart,” Eddie ensures. “Don’t… I don’t want you to worry about it. M’gonna make sure there are no worries in that pretty head.”

He yanks his t-shirt off, the one you’d bought him from the resale store. A cloud of frizzy, dark hair obscures his pretty face for half a second, the shirt landing on the floor somewhere off to the side, and then Eddie’s eyes find you again, grinning at you widely with pointed teeth.

You grab for him, your fingers looping around the chain that hangs from his neck. Tugging him down, you press a gentle kiss to his lips. Then to his sore jaw, where a tiny scab has formed on the right side of his chin. Then to his bruised cheek, where he flutters his eyes shut and groans softly at the brush of your lips.

“My boy,” you whisper to him, and you don’t even know if he understands the significance of it to you. His girl. Your boy.

Eddie smiles against your skin. He peppers kisses everywhere he can reach, down onto your chest, dragging his sharp teeth every once in a while just to hear you keen. You’re certain you’ve ruined your underwear now, feeling the wetness grow cool against your skin.

What a fucking concept. Cool air.

Eddie seems to have the same thought as you, as he slips his fingers beneath the white cotton and peels them down your legs. Strings of your arousal stick to the wet fabric, dropping off in thick tendrils onto the sheets below you as he groans lowly.

“Fuck,” Eddie curses, shaking his head in chastisement as he settles between your legs at the end of the bed. He tsks, “Just look at you, poor thing. Should’a said something to me, can’t have you going around like this.”

You shiver as he trails his mouth up the inside of your thigh. His day-old stubble scrapes your sensitive skin, making you break out in a cold sweat. “M’not- I didn’t want you to think-”

“That you’re easy?” He coos with a condescending smile. “No, honey. I know, you’re a good girl.” He nips at the widest part of your thigh, plush flesh indenting with the imprint of his teeth. “But I’m no good. You should know that, better than anyone. No good for you.”

Eddie’s tongue burns and soothes at the same time, leaving your brain a scrambled mess on the mattress beneath you. He gathers all of your collected arousal into his mouth, groaning like he’s been desperate to taste it all this time. “Been dreaming of this since I saw you, pretty girl.”

Pulling your leg over his bare shoulder, he all but crushes you against his face, his sturdy hands wrapped around your hips to hold you still. Your back arched, your hips fully off the bed as he lifts your lower half into the air.

You choke out the first part of his name, your hands fisting in the comforter next to your head. There’s a twist of pleasure deep in your core that makes you whine far louder than necessary, a waterfall of words spilling from you before you can stop them, “Oh shit- Ed- I don’t- s’too good-”

“Too good?” Eddie snickers, eyes bright as he watches you from between your thighs. “Nothing's too good for you.”

Then he spits onto your already soaked and swollen pussy. You sob, positively crying from the feeling of it, drenched and dripping along your sensitive flesh. Eddie spreads the wetness around with his tongue, and your cunt clamps down hard at the lewd squelch of it, the mortifying slurp of his lips closing down and sucking on your labia.

“Oh fuck, what the fuck-” you whimper high to the ceiling, mouth hanging open in shock.

You could have been doing this for days. He could have fucked you like this the first night, when you lay next to him, naked in the dark. Your body aches at the thought of being deprived of this longer than necessary.

“That’s it, baby, just stay still. Let me ruin you, huh?” Eddie murmurs, letting your thigh rest heavy on his shoulder so that he can move one hand, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit in front of his face. He watches your cunt glisten and throb for him, listening to your desperate sobs echo through the otherwise silent room, and whispers, “Shit. Like my own little fuckin’ pornstar, sweetheart.”

Normally, you wouldn’t exactly take that as a compliment- but with the way he says it, with his voice thick and dark like that, and with the way the hot, slick velvet of his tongue dips into your channel and shoots electricity along your skin, you figure he must have meant it like one.

He goes slow, thrusting into you gently, taking his time to get familiar between your legs. Still, it doesn’t stop you from positively shrieking toward the ceiling when he licks you from hole to clit, the entire expanse of his tongue sweeping along nerve endings that are charged like live wires.

Eddie chuckles, hot breath spilling out over your feverish skin, and he pauses there. Lets you feel the warm press of his flattened tongue before he just barely rubs it back and forth, back and forth-

“Eddie-!?” You gasp, an erotically loud moan spilling out of your mouth right before you come all over his. You crumble, your hips threatening to buck out of his steady grip as searing euphoria rips through you. He scrambles, ringed fingers locking tight enough on your waist to bruise, keeping you against him as you thrash wildly.

He keeps you like that for a long time, purring into your spasming pussy while an array of unhinged noises pour from your body- your mouth, your hands tearing at the sheets and at your head, your cunt and all its wet filth drenching Eddie’s bruised face.

If it hurts him, he doesn’t let on. He just keeps going, and going.

Until something pounds against the wall behind your head. You hiccup, your dazed, post-orgasm brain unable to comprehend where the sound is coming from. That wasn’t- couldn’t have been me…

“Pretty sounds,” Eddie giggles as he finally pulls his mouth away from you. “Guess the neighbors agree.”

“Oh, god.” Your hands cover your face, hot and sticky with sweat. Your eyes feel heavy, fuck-drunk, your heart still pounding in your chest from the adrenaline of the orgasm Eddie gave you. You feel embarrassed, like you ought to be going over to apologize to whatever sorry person happens to be sharing a wall with you, now.

Eddie has other plans. “Think we should give the audience a good show, huh?”

It’s merely a suggestion- you know that you could always find a way to quiet yourself, stuff your mouth with cotton and stifle your moans- but the implication of it makes your toes curl. Your breath rattles in your chest when you inhale. “You… you want everyone in the building to hear you fucking me?”

Eddie crowds you on the bed, your legs still slung over his shoulders so that you’re bent nearly in half. He’s still too fucking clothed for your liking- his leather belt digs into the back of your thighs as he presses a sloppy kiss to your dry lips. “I want everyone here to know you’re mine, sweetheart.”

Your hands cradle his face, pulling him in for a deeper kiss as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. Your over extended legs flop down onto the mattress, and you whine into his mouth as he massages his tongue with yours.

“I’m yours, Eddie,” you moan against his damp skin. “Oh god, I want it- want everyone to know.”

You take the initiative, with one last kiss turning in his grip. His hand slips, catching himself from toppling off the bed as you scoot onto your stomach, your knees planting on the mattress so that you can wiggle your hips up at him.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, smoothing a gentle palm over your ass before he kisses your lower back. He pauses, drawing soft kisses up your spine until his breath sweeps your shoulder blade. “You’re so beautiful. How’d I get so fucking lucky?”

A quiet keen is the only answer you give him, shoving your hips backward to get him to just fucking touch you, but he pulls away too quickly. There’s the clink of a belt buckle, a zipper being pulled, and you tense, your hand closing into a fist around the pillow at the head of the bed. Following the rustle of clothes, you hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper- you hadn’t even realized he had one. It didn’t even occur to you, in your dizzying need to fuck him, like some loveblind idiot.

You almost berate yourself for it, but then you feel his cock press against your entrance, and all those thoughts die away. He rolls his hips, and every single muscle in you tightens.

Eddie chokes on air as pleasure positively tears through you. Your eyes roll back, your mouth wide open and threatening to drool onto the pillow you’ve been shoved face-first into.

“F-fuck, you’re so big.” It’s the only thing you can choke out around moans. He splits you so wide, dragging through your slick walls that are still so sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Holy shi- oh my god-” he gasps behind you. “M’so sorry- I can’t- Feels so fucking good-”

You groan, unable to form words to adequately answer him. All you can manage to do is jam your hips backward in an attempt to get him deeper, as far as he can fucking go inside you. Your body blazes, everything coming up smelling of sex and sweat as you wail hopelessly into the pillow.

Eddie snarls, a deep and dangerous noise in the back of his throat as he draws his hips back and presses into you again. There’s no time for you to adjust, each thrust a little more forceful than the last. His cock hits sharp heaven deep inside you, punching loud and guttural moans from you each time his hips impact your ass.

“That’s a good girl- so ffffucking wet, goddamnit,” Eddie praises you through clenched teeth, ringed fingers and bruised knuckles wrapping loosely around your neck to lift your head from the pillow. “Let them hear all those pretty noises for me, baby.”

“Eddie…” You hiccup, your voice kicked up into a shrill whine. You swallow against the press of his fingers on your throat, holding your jaw into the air so there’s no place for your sounds to go but to the wall and through it.

Above your head, the banging on the wall starts back up. Eddie drops your chin and slams his hand on top of the headboard, gripping tightly at plywood that threatens to hit the wall as he ruts into you. Your face hits the pillow again, but your sobbing moans still come out loud and disruptive as Eddie speeds up his hips in retaliation.

“Doing so good f’me. Feel me, princess? So fucking deep,” Eddie groans. His cock licks up a sweet heat inside of you, and you know you’re going to come. He curses lowly, his hips pistoning into yours hard enough that you have to smack your hand into the headboard to keep from knocking into it. “Taking me so well. So perfect- s’like you were made for me, I know it, I just fucking know it…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your waist from behind, and he hauls your back into his sweat-slick chest. You almost feel weightless, for a moment, before you’re settled back into his lap, your thighs bracketing his as he kneels beneath you, clutching you against him.

A gasp tears from your mouth with a loud, “Shit!” His cock hits a different spot inside you, bursting color behind your closed eyelids as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

Eddie’s breath fans across your neck, sweat-damp hair tickling the side of your face. His hand greedily palms at your breasts, bouncing you in his lap as his tongue traces a wet line along your shoulder.

“Just know you were made for me,” Eddie repeats quietly in your ear, his breath feeling like flames on your neck. “That’s why you found me, baby. You were meant to be mine, my girl.”

His girl.

“Yours, Eddie,” you blubber, reaching back to dig a fist into his hair as his hands squeeze your breasts. “M’all yours.”

“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs, his voice saccharine and velvety. He moans in your ear when your cunt clenches down, a threatening throb at the outskirts of your orgasm. “Say it again.”

A whimper, high and needy in your throat. “I’m yours. Your girl- oh, f-fuck, Eddie- I’m gonna-”

“That’s right. My good girl. Only easy when it comes to me, right?”

Eddie’s hand drags purposefully down, fingernails dragging just through your pubic hair, just barely grazing where you want him- just like you did to him, that first morning. The realization makes you seize up, all tense from head to toe.

“What’s it like, when I do it to you? You like it?” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, a hiss through your teeth as you nod. His laugh is barely a ghost of a breath on your skin. “Yeah. I did, too.”

Eddie’s voice in your ear says, “Come for me,” and not even a fraction of you would deny him that.

His finger drags slowly your clit, calloused skin catching on the swollen bud, and you come. Your body slumps against him, and you’re so grateful for his arms around you to hold you through it. You’d swear he was splitting you in half with the sounds coming from your mouth. Your head tilted back on his shoulder, every breath is punctuated by a hoarse cry that breaks in your throat. Your hand clamps around his arm, which is still cradling you close to his chest as his own moans ring in your ear, his hips driving up into you as your cunt pulses around his cock. You know that he comes when his teeth wrap around the muscle of your shoulder and bite down.

Silence settles over your sweaty bodies, but thunderous banging is still furiously happening on the other side of the wall. You hear voices, words too muffled by the drywall to be intelligible, but they still sound angry.

Eddie won’t let you go, not yet. He’s clutching you, his mouth still wrapped around your shoulder, even though his teeth aren’t biting anymore. You pet his forearm, and lean forward just enough to knock lightly on the wall.

“We’re done!” Your voice cracks with the effort it takes to call out to the people on the other side.

“Fantastic show, my love. I think we deserve five stars.” Eddie laughs, nuzzling his face into your neck as he finally releases your shoulder from the trappings of his jaw. “I think I’m corrupting you, sweetheart.”

You hum, still petting his arm. “I think you already have, teddy.”

Eddie freezes, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. “No one’s called me that since I was a kid.”

“What, teddy?” He nods. Your fingernails drag dully down his arm, tracing over a tattoo of a swarm of bats, which breaks out in goosebumps under your touch. “Is that… Can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, you can- you can call me teddy.”

It’s quiet after that. He rocks you in his arms until you kiss his knuckles and lift yourself gingerly from his lap, earning a pacified grunt from him as his softened cock slides out of you. You watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket a few feet away, then flops backward onto the bed so that his head hits the pillows.

You chuckle, sliding forward to run your hands along his stomach. “Honey, you still have your pants on.”

He hadn’t taken them completely off, only pushed them down far enough to free his cock and have at you. What’s more, he still has his boots on, too- big, black motorcycle things that nearly hang off the end of the bed.

Eddie grunts dismissively. “C’n deal with it in the morning.”

“No sleeping with clothes on.”

He huffs petulantly, but the scowl he tries to give you turns into a lovesick grin pretty quick. He tucks his hand behind his head in mock-nonchalance. “Hey, pretty lady. You come here often?”

“Once or twice, so far.” You grin at him as he laughs, rolling your eyes as you move down the bed to finish undressing him. You untie his boots and let them fall with his jeans and boxers onto the floor at the end of the bed, glancing up at him once you’re finished.

His eyes are closed. You don’t think he’s sleeping yet, but he’s flushed, covered in sweat. He’s still so much of an enigma to you, but you adore him. You’re enamored with him.

You crawl slowly up the length of his body, feline-like in your movements. You appraise his tattoos, smoothing your hands over them as you go. You lean down and press featherlight kisses across his beautiful, bruised face.

Eddie cracks his eyes open at you with an inquisitive smirk, just barely puckering his lips to kiss you back when you land one on them. “Feeling me up again, sweetheart?”

You hum, kissing his chest. “You’re hot.” It’s the only explanation you afford him. And once he’s shut his eyes again, you carefully move down his body, peppering kisses across his naked torso.

“What’re you-?” He twitches when you drag your tongue over his cock, still wet and salty with his cum. He groans as you slowly lift it, suckling on the head gently. “Oh… Sweetheart, m’not… I don’t think I can-”

“I’m just cleaning you up, teddy,” you tell him gently. “S’okay. You can go to sleep.”

He hums tiredly, his hand lifting to run through your hair, stroking tenderly against the back of your head. “My girl just can’t keep her hands off, huh?”

“Not a chance,” you tell him, giving him another slow lick. “You’re just too fucking pretty, Eds.”

“And you’re too fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie only really falls asleep after he comes again.

I’m never gonna leave you, baby, even if you lose what’s left of your mind…

A few days later, the car breaks down in Colorado Springs.

It had been acting up for a while, of course. Even though you enjoyed watching Eddie when he was bent over the open hood, bare arms sweaty and streaked with grease in the afternoon heat, you knew it ultimately wasn’t going to end well.

Each time Eddie tinkered with it, more and more concerning things came to light. “One of your cylinders misfired,” he said one time, shaking his head. He’d insisted on driving it from that point on. Another, “The fucking spark plug has gone out. We have to get a new one.” That was $75 you didn’t have to spare.

You guess the car had just fucking had it when you got to Colorado. You went to start it up at a truck stop, and the whole thing just sputtered and coughed at you, and then you didn’t have an engine anymore.

After Eddie paced around and cursed about it for a couple minutes, you both crawled into the back of the van and locked the door. And now you sit cross-legged across from each other, with everything of value that you have to your name in a little pile in front of you.

When you left home, you’d saved up a couple thousand to live off of until you got somewhere you felt comfortable working and living in. Since then, you’ve squandered it on food and motels and gas, never staying put and now rambling along with Eddie.

From the ATM, Eddie had stolen around two thousand dollars. He’s in the same boat as you, now looking at only a couple hundred in between the two of you. Hardly enough to afford a hotel room or bus fare for the both of you. Certainly not enough to get you a new car, or even rent one.

He scrubs his hands down his face, dirty fingernails pressing into his skin. “You should take it.”

“What?” You squint at him.

“There’s enough here for bus fare for you, at least,” Eddie murmurs, his fingers poking at the pile and scooting it toward you. “Getcha where you want to go. Get a nice job at a tourist shop in Vegas or Santa Monica or something.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie?” you snap. You swat his hand away from the pile, looking affronted. “I’m not taking the money, so cut it out. We’ll figure something else out.”

Eddie shakes his head, like he’s already made up his mind. “We had a deal. I fix your car, you take me with you. And I didn’t fix your car.”

“Yeah, but that was before…” you trail off, scrutinizing his expression. He won’t meet your gaze. He won’t look at you.

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes like he’s a fish out of water. Then, he says bitingly, “Before we fucked?”

You can feel all the emotion drain from your face, leaving you a blank, hollow screen with dead eyes just staring at him. It’s your best defense against bursting into tears at the very tone of his voice.

When he glances at you, you can tell that he wants to take it back immediately. His teeth worry his bottom lip, ripping at chapped shreds of skin. “Don’t do me any favors, sweetheart.”

“It’s not a fucking favor- I thought we were doing this together.”

Eddie talks over you. “You don’t need to keep dragging me around with you, okay? You’re off the hook.”

“Eddie, you’re being mean,” you croak at him. Not exactly the quick, biting wit that you can usually whip out- he’s shocked you.

He drops his eyes, his hands squeezing his knees. “Yeeeah,” he grumbles, his fingers tapping sporadically against his denim jeans. “Well, I told you, I’m no good for you. You didn’t listen.”

You told me that while your tongue was in my pussy. The words are balanced on the edge of your teeth, but they won’t fall out. Your hands itch to reach out for him, grab his chin and force him to look at you, somehow.

Instead, they snatch up the little bit of cash from your side of the pile in between you. You crumple it in your hand and shove the wad into your jacket pocket before you grab the strap of your weather-beaten backpack full of the last things you have to your name, and kick open the back door of the van.

It’s summer, but it’s windy in Colorado. It must be something about the mountains, you guess, and it being early morning. Condensation hangs in the air, making the air both heavy and cool as you breathe. Funny- if you slept naked, you’d probably have to curl up into each other for warmth, for a change.

You’re either vibrating from rage or from the abnormal chill in the air. Standing on the street corner with the gas station sign lit up in neon behind you, you kick the crosswalk pole with your dirty converse. You’re still arguing with him, in your head. We were in this together, motherfucker. I told you, I’m your girl. I put all my eggs in your basket. Whatever fucking martyr complex this is, you can shove it right up your stupid-

“I know.” Eddie’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, his face buried in your hair as he whispers urgently into it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

So, you weren’t arguing with him in your head. You were actually yelling everything you were thinking, and he chased you as you stormed off. Seems about par for the course.

“Fuck you, Eddie, did it even mean anything to you?” you blather at him, your voice thick with impending tears. “‘Cause it meant something to me.”

“Course it did,” he rasps at you, his arms squeezing you to him so tight that you’re running out of air to breathe. “I didn’t- I was being shitty. I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.”

“Then don’t push me away.” The tears collect in your lashes, finally dripping down your cheeks. You turn in his arms and whack your hand flat against his chest. “Don’t treat me like some slut, don’t- I didn’t sleep with you just because I wanted you to fix my fucking car, you jerk.”

“I don’t think that,” Eddie insists quietly, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “C’mon, now.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said,” he cuts you off. “And I didn’t mean it. I have a bad habit of throwing away the good things in my life, ‘cause… ‘cause of that martyr complex, you said-” He jams his tongue against the roof of his mouth when you hiccup, staring up at him with a wobbly lip. “Don’t let me throw you away. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had, ‘n I don’t wanna lose you just because I’m an idiot.”

You sigh, your head falling neatly into the crook of his neck like it’s meant to be there. He’s too quiet, holding you against him at the street corner. Eddie breathes in deep and kisses the side of your head longingly.

“I can get us a car.”

You lift your head to look at him. He wears a disappointed expression. “But we don’t have any money.”

“It won’t take money,” Eddie mumbles as he strokes your back. “I, uh… I didn’t want to end up like my old man, but…” he shrugs, his eyes cast away from you. He chuckles sadly. “Nothin’ I can do about that, now, I guess. I mean, look how you met me.”

Oh. You can infer what he means by the far-off look on his face, like he’s resigned himself to his fate. You lift your hands to cradle his face; the bruise on his cheekbone has faded to yellow, the scab on his chin almost healed. He’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“You’re a good man, Eddie,” you tell him sternly.

Eddie’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be too sure of that. You might change your mind.”

‘Cause you know I’ll be right there beside you, riding through all these western nights…

The sedan isn’t exactly flashy, or new. It’s a tin can on wheels that’ll crumble into bits if you so much as side-swipe a trash can. You keep a lookout as Eddie jimmies an unwound wire coat hanger between the glass window and the door, and a second later the door is unlocked.

You’re unnervingly calm. How did you get to be so calm about all this? Stealing money, driving getaway cars, stealing other cars when those ones don’t work. Suddenly an accomplice to whatever illegal shit has to happen for you to get where you’re going.

What’s worse, you think, is how badly the sight of him hotwiring the car turns you on. It’s practically horrifying the way your skin crawls and your core burns as you watch his hands fiddle with the wires beneath the console, so quick that your mind can barely process it. You’re not sure if the adrenaline in your veins is from looking to see if anyone’s coming, or if it’s because you want to jump his bones.

"I swear to you," he's saying as he swipes at frayed wires, "I swear, when we get to San Francisco, I'll never- I'm gonna get an honest, real fuckin' job, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt yo-"

The car starts, and you leap into the front seat without giving it any more thought. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He looks up at you, his brows tilted up expectantly. He’s still tucking wires back under the dashboard, preparing to take off once he gets the door shut.

“I slept with you because I’m falling in love with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide as moons, glittering in the light of a fluorescent floodlight at the corner of the dark parking lot.

“You don’t have to love me back,” you tell him honestly. “I just wanted you to know. I’m with you. And I’m not gonna leave.”

You don’t know if he loves you back- not yet, anyways. He doesn’t say it to you. But he kisses you like he does.

I'll be screaming your name past the gas stations, trailing down the interstate. Please don’t love how I need you, and know that one day, you and I could be okay.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #roses*

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libraryofgage · 9 months

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SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

----

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

#Steddie #Spiderpool Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #spiderman steve harrington #deadpool eddie munson #it'll make sense i promise #also Eddie goes back into the bar and immediately starts bragging about flirting with spider-man #everyone immediately knows he's about to become Annoying (TM)#and resign themselves to their fate #Robin does the exact same when Steve gets home and tells her about Eddie #RIP everyone who has to live with these two gushing about each other

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

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Will You Forgive Me? (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, jealousy, possessiveness, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys) (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: After a fight with Joel, you decided to go to the bar and got drunk. He got angry and apologized to you in his own way. 😏

Words count: 1.4k

A/N: Hi! I’m not a native English speaker so I’m sorry if I have grammar mistakes or the sentences come up unnatural, please be nice and I'm open for suggestions. I hope you like the smut I’m writing because I am inexperienced lol. I hope you enjoy it.

You got in your car, hesitating to drive, hoping Joel would come out and stop you. But he wasn’t there. So you drove away and went to the bar called Ray’s where you usually drank with him. You found a seat and drank a lot. You started feeling tipsy and you decided to call him.

“Hey handsome, I take it back. We’re not breaking up. Ugh. No. I’m done. I don’t care. Uhm. I. Uhm. Don’t call me. Why are you calling me?” You were drunk and you thought he called you when you were the one who called him.

“Are you drunk? Where are you?” Joel grabbed his jacket and rushed to his car, and he was getting worried.

“Why do you care? You don’t love me.” You laughed.

“Tell me right now! Where are you?” He raised his voice and started to get angry.

“You know where, here, there, at Ra- Hey! Did you just grab my ass? Fuck you!” You hung up and confronted the drunk guy.

“Fuck!” Joel started his car and drove as fast as he could to the bar. He guessed it's Ray's since your call was cut off and it’s the only bar you’ve gone to together.

His blood was boiling as he walked in the bar and found the drunk guy was hugging you as you tried to pull away. He came to you and pushed the guy. You gasped as Joel punched the guy.

He gave a death stare and yelled, “You stay away from my girl!”

Joel grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the bar. His grip was very strong and it was hurting you.

You tried to release your wrist from him, “Joel, stop it, you’re hurting me, it hurts.”

He didn’t care. He kept dragging you and put you into the passenger seat of his car and slammed the door. You were scared, you have never seen him this angry before. As he got in the driver’s seat, he hit the steering wheel.

"What the fuck were you thinkin'?!" Joel clenched his jaw and stared at you.

“Oh! Now you care, huh?” You scoffed.

Joel growls. He didn’t say anything.

“My head hurts. Will you just take me to my house?” You asked Joel.

The whole way to your house was just silence. Joel parked his car into the driveway. You immediately got out of the car and stood in front of your door looking for your keys.

“Fuck! Where is it?” You were annoyed as you couldn’t find your keys.

Joel opened the door with the spare key you gave him. You rolled your eyes as you walked inside and Joel followed you. He pulled you to his chest and kissed you roughly while his foot kicked the door to close it.

“What are you doing?” You sounded irritated and pushed him.

Joel sighed, “I..Uhm..”

“Tell me you love me, Joel.”

Joel cleared his throat, not answering you.

“If you can’t say it then get out.” You were tired of him.

“I..I love you. I mean it. It’s just that..”

“Just what, Joel?”

“I’m not good in expressin’ myself.” He let out a sigh. “I fuckin’ love you. You should know that.”

“Oh, Joel. I just needed to hear those three little words from you. I’m sorry I blew up like that.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I was wrong.” He said it softly as he walked slowly and closer to you.

Your eyes were getting teary and you looked down. Joel’s hands raised your chin to look straight into your eyes. He kissed you deep with his tongue caressing your lips then your tongue touched his. You moaned and put your arms around his neck while his hands on your hips. The two of you kept kissing as he raised your leg to his hips carrying you towards the stairs. He pressed you to the wall after walking up just a few stairs. The kissing never stopped. He held your weight with his strong hips and thighs. He slid his hand under your shirt, massaged your breast, and swallowed your moan. You felt arousal pooling between your legs.

“Touch me, Joel.” You guided his other hand to your cunt and he palmed it with his big hands.

“Already wet for me, darlin’?”

He kneeled and pulled your panties down. His eyes looked hungry when he saw your pussy shining with your slick. He kissed your inner thigh slowly and lovingly before he went to lick your clit.

“Oh, Jooell.” You gasped.

Your breathing was heavy and you pulled his hair which made him let out a moan. He kept licking and slurping you up and down. Your thigh trembled and you knew you needed him.

“Joel, bedroom, now.”

Joel stopped to look at you. You held his hand and dragged him to your room. The kissing and touching continued as the two of you were already in your bedroom. You walked backwards and led him to your bed. You undressed yourself, naked and laid on your back. He climbed on top of you kissing your neck and his fingers played with your nipple. He was a lot bigger than you, his broad shoulder covered all of your body and you could feel his warmth wrapping you.

“Let me ride you, Joel.”

“Not tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me take care of you tonight, baby.”

You groaned as his words made you even more horny.

“Okay, take care of me tonight, Miller. Fuck me till I can’t walk.”

“I will.” He growled as he stood up beside the bed and pulled his shirt and pants off letting his cock free. You can see a leaking pre-cum on his tip.

He climbed back on top of you, brushed his tip on your clit, covering his cock with your slick before he slowly pushed himself in your entrance. You moaned as it felt so good when he stretched you wide. He rested his hands beside your head to hold his weight and started to move slowly. He started kissing your breast and licking your nipple. He was so good that you loved him doing that to you. You shut your eyes enjoying the night and clenched your hands to his shoulder.

“Fuck! That feels so good. You’re so good, Joel.”

He didn’t answer. He rubbed your clit with his thumb and pinched your nipple with the other hand. He kept doing those moves you loved to please you. He started to think that this position was not enough for you so he shifted you to your stomach and started fucking you from behind. You moaned loudly.

“Can you move faster?” You asked Joel and his thrusts were getting faster.

There was no other sound besides the sound of skin to skin, moans and heavy breathings. He clenched his hands on your hips. You whimpered, bit your hand as you felt you were close.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” It felt so good that you could only whimper and shout his name.

“Cum for me, baby.” He kept pleasing you.

You panted and felt your vision blurring. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands clenching on the sheets, and screamed his name. You felt your orgasm washed all over your body. You shivered and it felt like heaven. He has made you cum thousand times before but orgasm from makeup sex is your favorite. He let you catch your breath and came down from your orgasm as he laid down beside you. You tried to stand up to clean yourself but you couldn’t walk. Your legs were shaking. Joel really did what you told him to do.

“You really did what I told you, huh?” You chuckled and looked at his face full of sweat.

“I told you I will do it. Fuck you till you can’t walk.” He sounded so sexy when he said that to you with his deep voice.

He got up and walked his way to the bathroom to get a towel and dampen it with water. He came to you and cleaned you up. After he cleaned you, he laid beside you again, pulled you closer to him, wrapped his arm around you, and put your head to his chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. I love you. Will you forgive me?” He apologized to you and kissed your forehead.

“How can I not forgive you after all of this?” You laughed and kissed his chest. In fact, you have even forgotten about the fight with him.

You thought to yourself, “Joel really knows how to apologize in his own way.”

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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bronx-bomber87 · 4 months

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Happy Wednesday Fandom :) It's crazy we are over ten eps in s5 already. Just means we're closer to this premiere yay. (it's 34 btw...) I adore this episode. I think it’s highly underrated because it’s the episode before 5x12. There are so many reasons to love this one. Flirty times, Return of Genny and Lucy, We get a taste of them as parents in this one and Lucy is a Grade A BAMF. Let us get started.

5x11 The Naked and The Dead

We start out with Tim being perplexed by the new coffee machine. Asking what was wrong with the old one? Being her grumpy old man about it. Nolan and Lucy start listing off reasons. Like led levels and Lucy mentions a mice infestation. Eww lol The growth in this scene is pretty cute though. It's how he easily steps aside to let her do it for him. No fight in him about it whatsoever. Just lets wifey do her thing.

How far we’ve come. She shows him how to do it and he is impressed with her. What else is new? heh But he's extra impressed cause she is girl now hehe Lucy tells him she learned from a clip talk tutorial on how to do it. John asks what they got up to last night? Tim on the instant defensive. Says ‘Nothing.’ way too quickly.

My god Timothy it’s a good thing it’s Nolan and not Nyla. Captain clueless over here doesn’t suspect a thing thankfully. Lucy of course is far more prepared than her boyfriend is. Because well it’s Lucy. I adore her being so smooth about it. Doesn't miss a beat. Hands her man his coffee as she easily delivers her cover story. Honestly if anyone was going to blow their cover it was Tim LOL

John dips out and thanks Lucy for the bar and the recommendation. Minute he’s gone Lucy gives him such crap for his terrible answer. Saying he had all morning to come up with a cover story and that was it? Tim defending himself saying Nolan bought it. Yeah cause it’s Nolan... Had it been anyone else in their orbit they would’ve been caught. Lucy is judging him so hard for this. I love it so much. Such a wifey moment right here.

Tim challenges her and asks what Nolan has follow up questions? Lucy confidently telling him she read the catalog cover to cover. Of course she did. I expect nothing less tbh. Neither should you Tim ha His reaction is the best. Like if you weren’t my girlfriend be calling you a nerd right now. But we all know he loves his nerd and her brain. Her intelligence/intense drive is one of the reasons he fell for her. God they cute.

Tim mentions she has citizens academy today. Lucy says yes and asks for any tips? Per usual he warns her about screenwriters haha That she shouldn't give out her card or she will be up to her eye balls in scripts. Lucy then segues into their plans for tonight. Flirty af as she does. Asking what he’s doing tonight? So much behind her question. Looking so very excited to ask him it. Radiating happiness as she does.

They could not be more flirty if they tried in this scene and I love it. I remember squeeing because this was the place we we're in now. Tim flirting right back ‘Nothing. I hope.’ *heart clutch* Lucy shooting tons of heart eyes his way. Letting him know that ‘Nothing sounds perfect.' Who would've thought the word 'Nothing.' could sound so romantic? Yet these two did it. The smirk on his face as she walks away from him is everything.

Oh my lord this man is a goner for her. Never seen this man smile more this entire series than he has since he started dating Lucy. They are giving off teenagers sneaking around and in love vibe here. Their secret dating era is just a primo as their longing/pining one. I love this season so much. Could they be anymore adorable flirting in the break room? Talking about cover stories and doing ‘Nothing.’ Gah I love it so much. It's all so new and exciting and it's coming off them in waves. I'm soaking it up like a sponge of shippy happiness.

This next portion is adorable. I love Aaron literally running to Lucy to tell her about Tim coaching little league. He is so excited to share this with her haha I am a fan of trio not gonna lie. Tim rolling his eyes when she says ‘Nolan.’ I mean it is a very John Nolan thing to do let’s be honest… Aaron calling him ‘Sergeant Friendly’ and not being pummeled by Tim just shows what a good place he’s in with Lucy.

Lucy saying ‘Can she watch?’ doing things to me. Sounded way flirtier than I’m sure she meant it to. Or maybe she did mean it that way heh Like girl we know you wanna watch him for quite a few reasons...Also you know she’s proud of him for being the good uncle and stepping up. The heart eyes are infinite at the end from her. She is proud of him for doing this. If it was possible he became even more attractive to her because of this.

Lucy shows up to practice and see’s Tim in coach mode. She is looking so very amused. Especially with how soft he is being. Watching her boyfriend who she knows can be a hard ass be soft af with these kids. Also if they think Genny doesn’t know they’re out of their damn minds. It’s all over her face as they banter with each other. Platonic co-workers don’t show up to their co worker's nephews practice and 'bicker'.

Married vibes x 1000 here and Genny is picking up what they’re throwing down. Tim is so excited to see her when she shows up. No way his sister doesn’t see a shift in his demeanor. Lucy couldn’t have a bigger smile on her face as she teases him. Tim being the exasperated husband per usual. Saying they’re just kids it's supposed to be fun. Her teasing is extra smitten like I have to say. Showing all your cards today you two. Right in front of Genny LOL

The sister in law bonding continues as Tim walks away. Which I absolutely adore btw. Lucy asking 'This is weird right?' Genny regaling her of how their dad taught his team as a kid. Tim having literal scars from it. It’s then it all comes together for Lucy. Tying back to that moment in 4x09. ‘You’re nothing like him.’ Lucy immediately getting why he’s acting this way.

He will do anything not to be like his father. I could not relate to that more if I tried. I see you Tim and I so understand. Lucy instantly softens and says this back to Genny. Knowing exactly what’s bringing on this soft streak of his. We watch as the kids continue to suck lol. Tim doing a thumbs up and I’m dying of laughter. Lucy sees why he’s doing this but says he is also over correcting in this approach.

This scene is a look into them as parents and it's making me very happy. The control freak in Lucy can’t stand back any longer. I love this part so much. She takes control and provides the kids with some knowledge and structure. Also like to call this the scene where Tim falls even more in love with her. He couldn’t be more proud as she takes control. Not only that but is knowledgeable about the game he loves. Win win.

He is looking at her like yep that’s the future mother of my kids. I love her walking up and the kids just follow. Her leadership is on fire right now. Tim asks her what she’s doing? Lucy saying yeah they can have fun but they also need structure. She’s not wrong… Totally going to be them as parents. Lucy being the stricter one with structure. Where Tim will be the softie wanting their kids just to have fun.

So cute how bemused Tim looks when she calls herself his ‘friend.’ Knowing they are far more than that now. Gah love Eric and his expressions. I’m a sucker for them. Lucy breaks down what they’re going to be doing. Not only that but the confidence she exudes while doing that has Tim beaming at her. Like look at his girl taking control and being knowledgeable about baseball. Seriously it's like he is falling even deeper in love with her based on this alone. How could he not?

Don’t tell me that man wasn’t turned on by this whole display either. Heart eyes galore but a little hot under the collar as well. You know he loves when she’s assertive. It’s a huge turn on for him. He’s basically scoping her out in front of those kids haha It’s this mixture of pride and being so immensely attracted to her. The man is in awe of this woman standing next to him.

The way he looks at her I’m just a damn puddle. If that man looked at me that way I would melt. Instantly. Lucy does melt a little when she catches his eye in the first gif above. You can see her crack a smile when their eyes connect. It's so cute. Once again I ask have we ever seen this man this damn happy before? No. Not till Lucy. I love him telling them when she’s done. ‘You heard her.’ Like you heard my wife get going. haha

The teasing is the cutest. It’s like we’re getting on screen fanfic levels of fluff in this episode. I'm so here for it. Just beaming heart eyes at each before he teases her with the ball. Her ‘Oh.’ When he takes the ball out of her reach. I cannot. I’m dying with the how adorable this whole thing is. My god they’re basically screaming their relationship to Genny in this moment.

I must also note my god Tim looks good. Doing what he does best. Takes a simple outfit like shirt and ball cap makes it sinfully delicious. Sweet lord he looks SOOOO good in outfit. Mmmm break me off a piece. My fav color too so that definitely adds to it for me. *fans self*

We catch up with them post practice. Genny comments they should co-coach together. They both make little jokes about it basically flirting in front of her. Do they see themselves and their looks? No? Ok... Genny redirecting their attention to how well they work together. Tim stumbling over his words instantly. Thinking they're being caught.

Lucy swoops in to save his ass like she did with Nolan ha Now her reply is shaky as well but better than Tim’s LOL They’re so bad at hiding this it’s hilarious. Tim following up with a ‘Mmhmm….’ As transparent as glass you two. A blind man could see how in love you are. Sweet lord.

Just being idiots in love in front of his sister ain’t no thing….Fairly certain Genny knows but is just testing the waters with her comments. No way she doesn’t see a difference in her own brother. Sure she sensed something in 4x08/4x09. This entire interaction only heightened it. Tim being the least subtle person on the planet in this moment. I love him so much. He sure is trying. lol

Lucy gets a call from the shelter so she steps away. Her domestic she got in is causing problems. She goes back to Tim and lets him know something going on with it. He is the worried boyfriend and asks if she wants him to come with? Which I adore. He know she can handle herself but wants to offer it anyways.

Just wanting to be near her at all times right now which is adorable. Also that instinct inside him to want accompany her incase she needs him. Being the supportive lovely boyfriend he is. Lucy declines and he respects her wanting to handle it on her own. Because he knows she can. Gah I love them. It’s the little things.

We rejoin them at the baseball game and I’m dying how cute they are. Lucy is losing her mind over the game and it's hysterical to watch unfold. Tim tells her to be encouraging haha How far we’ve come from Grey telling Tim to do as such back in 4x02. Love seeing that translate into this. Lucy tries to correct herself but doesn't convince Tim very well on it. His reply of 'We're gonna work on that...' I'm rollin. This is so adorable.

Lucy’s competitive side coming out and he has to have her take down just a notch. LOL The biggest trip is Tim being the kind encouraging one where Lucy is being the more competitive intense one ha. The dynamic shift here is unreal. I just love how involved she gets into this. This is something he loves and she is right there with him on it. I just love that he now has someone to do this stuff with. Happily too.

Not only that but Lucy is very into it at this point. I adore him leaning in to hear her. Tim has to calm her down though. haha I love her telling him she’s excited and he says ‘I know.’ Just letting Lucy be herself 100 percent. He loves her for who she is and vice versa and I'm a puddle. I am also excited Lucy has someone she can be herself fully around. Each found their person and it shows.

Lucy is losing her mind over this game and he gets it. Gah I love them so much everyone. This was such a cute mini moment. He is loving her competitive energy but is trying to tamp it down a little as well LOL Just a husband trying to calm down his overly competitive wife. It’s so cute I’m dying.

The cuteness continues on as they try and hype up one of the kids. I love them cheering Blake on together. Serious married baseball parents vibes. Just being proud parents clapping together. Wearing matching outfits having the same cute energy. This is them as parent's I am convinced. We are looking into the future people.

I also don't hate seeing Tim's biceps in action in these shots Mmm. Yum. I saw someone make a comment that they felt Dad Eric vibes in this scene. I can see it. The way he posts like a proud papa about his kids this is totally in line with that. It's pretty adorable to watch.

The high five turning into a hand hold is adorable and subtle af guys. I did see a BTS post awhile back on here about this. Eric said he and Melissa had a bet. Something about who would have that piece of paper in their end by end of the ep. Something like that. So that’s all I see now when I see the high five and hand hold. LOL Such goobers and I love them for it.

Either way they are disgustingly cute to end this episode. Lucy being the overly competitive mom. Tim has to keep her from scaring the kids is gold. This episode was tons of cuteness and flirty times. Was the perfect episode to follow 5x10 and pre-cursor to 5x12. They got to just be them and have time outside the station together. Just to be a couple and hang out. I loved it sfm.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

I will forever adore how Lucy handled that whole Domestic solo. I made a post after this ep premiered about how proud I was of her. How deeply she has grown as a cop and a person. How she doesn't let that abusive asshat rattle her cage in the least. The way she flashes her badge at him and says they're not done talking yet when he is trying to pull her from Lucy. Hot damn. My girl crush is back LMAO

Not only that but take his ass down later. Solo. Has the matter in hand by the time the cavalry arrives. How far she’s come from that moment in the sewers with Nyla back in S2. How proud Harper would be of her. She already is with her UC work but she commands this entire situation. From Start to finish. Takes down a guy twice her size by herself. Just so proud of her growth. The confident BAMF she’s come gah I love it sfm.

Don't usually do gifs in side notes but there were some good side note gifs. LOL Eric at it again with expressions and I'm laughing so hard. If you wanted to see what Tim thinks of Nolan in a moment it's that expression above. Lucy calling John a bad ass and Tim isn't so sure he agrees with her LMFAO. I'm with you babe idk I do either...

The sole purpose of this gif is just to drool and gawk at how damn good Tim looks in the field in this scene. I could care less about the SL LOL It's the tight red shirt, the jeans with his cuffs in the back, the vest with his badge showing, those delicious fit biceps of his, that shot of his forearm as he opens the door and the way he climbs into that trailer flexing said sexy biceps phew lord. Field Tim does so many things to me. How Lucy waited as long as she did to have that man Idk LOL Imma go get some ice water....

Thank you as always to those who read, like, comment on these reviews you make my whole day every time I see one pop up. I shall see you all in 5x12 :)

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shuttershocky · 3 months

Note

let's say, hypothetically, someone picked up Gigantic after reading several of your posts despite never playing a moba before. what kind of tips or tricks of the trade would you give them?

The Closed beta test is finished for now (it was just a one day deal) but there will surely be more before the game (re)releases in April so here's some starter info for you.

Despite the overall game being structured like a MOBA, the actual combat system is based on action games. That means stamina management, 3D combat with verticality, dodge-rolls, jumps, all that good stuff. Even if you have no MOBA experience at all, you'll be able to get into the moment to moment gameplay

When you're new, I recommend playing the Rush game mode. Rush only had one lifebar per Guardian, you can switch characters anytime (like in a team 3rd person shooter like Overwatch), the only objectives are capture points, everyone starts at max level with a finished build, it's basically training wheels where you get to learn how the systems in Gigantic work against live players without having to learn the strategy elements yet.

Once you feel like getting into the real meat of Gigantic, play Clash mode. This is the classic mode the original game shipped with. In Clash mode, you cannot repick your character (so your team comp is determined at the pick screen), you start at Level 1, and over the course of the match you level up and use the upgrade points to upgrade your skills one by one. If you've played through Rush, you should be familiar enough with your chosen character by now to learn how to build them over a match. Another critical part of Clash mode is that you can sacrifice your Focus points (your Ultimate move) to instead summon a creature from your loadout to guard a command point your team captures. This is where the resource management and strategy of MOBAs come into play, as you have to choose between securing territory with creatures, (and different creatures having different abilities to help your team), or having Focus points to use your ultimate skill in a fight. You'll learn through experience.

The most important skill to learn when you first learn to play Gigantic is awareness about where your team is. The minimap shows you the locations of all your teammates. Unless you become really good at combat, you usually want to have the numbers advantage in a fight, as a 1v1 can be a struggle to win, but a 2v1 is going to end badly for the 1 guy 90% of the time. Don't let that one guy caught alone be you!

Contradicting what I said in the last tip (lol), all players actually take bonus damage when attacked from the back, so in a big fight it often pays to break from the team and flank the enemy while they're distracted. If you've played any team-based shooter at all, you know your target: the enemy support.

For very obvious reasons, melee characters are at a disadvantage when out in the open against ranged characters. Move from cover to cover when crossing open areas, melees have an advantage against ranged when they're up close!

They tell you this many times in the tutorial, but it bears repeating: do not fuck with the enemy Guardian who's a giant monster the size of a house. You can attack them in Clash mode to try to steal some power, but these WILL squish you flat if they catch you. If you do attack them like a crazy bastard, remember the gryphon Guardian has fast eye beams and tornado attacks to send you flying, while the dragon Guardian fires slow moving poison that slows you and makes you easy pickings. Both of them can just squish you if they want so be prepared to dodge.

You have a stamina bar that drains when dodging, jumping, attacking, sprinting, using skills, etc. When in a fight, it's important that you save enough stamina to escape in case you realize you can't win that skirmish, otherwise you'll have to limp away and hope someone saves you! On the other hand, draining an opponent's stamina can make them an easy kill for your team even if you don't have the stamina to finish them off yourself (that's why you play with your team nearby!)

Big glowy circles from various characters are often magic shields that reflect projectiles. Don't shoot them, you CAN hit yourself.

When your Guardian is fully powered and rampages across the map, don't get cocky and charge ahead immediately. The enemy Guardian is still dangerous and is capable of killing you swiftly right until the moment your Guardian punches them in the head and pins them down. Every member of the attacking team that dies during their Guardian's rampage gives energy to the enemy Guardian that lets them resist the attack. If you want to do maximum damage, you want to time it just right.

On the other hand when your Guardian is about to get punched in the face, this is the moment to go aggressive. Any kill you score here can strengthen your Guardian's shield, and if you die you can't empower a fully powered enemy Guardian anyway. Score a full 100 power shield and you can completely nullify the enemy Guardian's attack. Don't fall back scared when you hear the enemy Guardian roar, look for opportunities when the enemy gets cocky!

Since every ally slain empowers the enemy Guardian and every enemy slain empowers yours, it is in your best interest to protect your teammates and come to their rescue when they get in trouble. Losing them will only make the enemy stronger, but evening the odds and taking down the enemy together rewards your whole team.

Creature kills count as player kills! If a Creature defends a point all by itself and you take it down, that's a kill for you and power for your Guardian. That also means you must defend your own Creatures. Some of the upgraded creatures that take 2 or 3 Focus points to summon like a Stone Cerberus are powerful enough to fend off a human player by themselves, but don't leave a puppy Cerberus to die!

If you have a skill that says "pushes enemies" on its description, use it when the enemy climbs the level geometry. An enemy with the high ground advantage is hard to fight into, but the right skills can knock them off their perch and send them back down to the floor with you for an even fight.

#Gigantic

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apenapaperandadoofus · 1 year

Note

HIII IM SORRY TO ASKTHIS HUT I HAVE READSKME OF YOUR STORIES AND CAN I REQ A AFAB X DOM DILUC💗💗💗 BUT YHEY JUST FINISHED FIGHTING IF ITS OKAY FOR YOU CAN U MSKE IT SMUT<333 (hes on my mind for days omg)

DONT WORRY IM IN A GENSHIN (ESPECIALLY DILUC) HYPERFIXXATION SO IM HAPPY FOR THE ASK

We fight we break up we kiss we make up (Dom!Diluc x AFAB!Reader)

I legit had no title ideas and Katy was the first thing that popped to mind lol

Also I had to look into the tavern because I needed to remember what it looked like and APPARENTLY IT HAS A THIRD FLOOR I TOTALLY FORGOT so yeah now you know

And apologies if it sounds a bit weird, for some reason my brain is not translating and writing correctly, it’s just one of those days yknow? Also could be cuz I’ve been running on literally nothing but caffeine oops

“I’m back.” You called out opening the front door of Angel’s Share.

The usually loud tavern filled with drunken laughter and music was now replaced by dimmed lights and silence. It was late at night, and you had just finished a tiring day of endless commissions.

You looked towards the bar, where your boyfriend usually was tidying everything up for the next day, but instead found the new hire on his spot.

He looked up and smiled.

“Miss, you’re back. Ah! If you’re looking for Master Diluc he is up in the storage room.” The young boy pointed up.

“Thanks Leon. Don’t stay here too late alright?” You smiled in appreciation.

He nodded, and went back to the task at hand.

You climbed up towards the third floor of the tavern, legs aching from the amount of walking you did that day.

“Why are there so many goddamn stairs.” You groaned.

Finally you made it up to the third floor, however, before you were even done walking up the stairs, a loud thud and a string of curse words caught your attention.

The storage door was slightly open, a small amount light pouring out from inside.

“Diluc?” You walked into the room, finding the familiar redhead kneeling down and picking up a bottle of wine.

Thankfully it hadn’t shattered, but a hefty amount of the drink poured out on the floor.

Walking over you took your handkerchief and cleaned the spilt liquid, making Diluc glance at you in surprise.

“You’re back.” He said. His eyes flickered around your face, checking and examining for any sign of injury.

You chuckled. “I am. Rough day at work? I swear I’ve never seen you spill any of the bottles before.”

Diluc huffed and stood up. “This sort of thing is not exactly unusual for bartenders.”

You frowned at his cold reply, raising a brow. “Really bad day huh?”

“Why did you come back so late?” He said. “Commissions usually don’t take you that long. You know it’s dangerous at night.”

Placing the now wet handkerchief on the corner you stood up and stretched. “Oh please Diluc, you know I can handle myself. Besides Franz was with me.”

The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “You were paired up with him again?”

“He asked for my help patrolling a few areas around Springvale and we kind of lost the track of time. Besides he’s new into the guild and as his senior I should help him right?”

“He’s been in the guild for six months already, if he isn’t able to handle the job by now maybe he should think of another occupation.”

Diluc crossed his arms, scoffing. “And besides, what exactly was it that made the two of you ‘loose the track of time’ so much that it became one in the morning? Last time I checked, scouting for hilichurl camps doesn’t exactly take that long”

You looked at your boyfriend with a confused expression. “What are you implying Diluc? You know it’s part of my job to help other members as well.”

“Right, but I don’t recall you spending that much time with them before.”

“Seriously Luc? You’re acting like a child, just because he made one drunken joke-”

“I’ve seen drunk people and he was not one of them, he was legitimately trying to flirt with you and now you’re enabling his fixation.” He said, matter-of-factually.

He glared at you and you felt a pang of shock and anger course through your body.

“Oh really?! I was doing my job Diluc, you can’t expect me to shirk my responsibilities because you’re throwing a tantrum.” You threw your hands up in frustration, pacing around the room.

Diluc groaned in annoyance and walked towards you. “A tantrum? I have every right to question a man who tried to flirt with my partner.”

“Right, because you don’t trust me.” You turned to look at him, accusingly.

“I never said that!” He stared at you wide eyed and you let out a sardonic laugh.

“Well you might as well! Do you seriously think I would go behind your back-”

“Do not put words in my mouth Y/N.”

“-Flirting with someone else for some reason.” You continued, walking towards him.

“I would never-”

“How could you think so little of me?!”

“Will you just listen to be and be quiet for a minute?”

Diluc gently gripped your shoulders to stop you from moving, the two of you so close your noses could almost touch.

Shaking his hands off you glared at him in defiance.

“Why don’t you make me, Master Diluc.” You sneered at him, the words coming out before you could stop them.

Diluc stared at you, surprise apparent on his face.

Tension enveloped the room.

Neither of you said a word as you suddenly felt the temperature spike.

Diluc glanced down at your lips, and then at you, and before you could say anything else he pulled you into a fierce kiss, lips crashing into yours.

You gasped and gripped the collar of his coat, your hand gripping his hair.

Diluc pushed you against the wall, hands reaching down and pushing your shirt up, his knee pushing between your legs. You moaned, grinding against him as he kissed your collarbone.

However, before you could do anything more he pulled away.

You let out a disappointed huff.

“Diluc what are you…”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence as you felt yourself being pushed down on your knees. Diluc had quickly unbuckled his pants, his throbbing cock now in front of you.

“Wait- Diluc-”

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” He said, gripping your hair and pulling you towards his dick, a hint of dominance flashing in his eyes. “Now suck it.”

You gulped and nodded slowly, opening your mouth to lick the tip of his member before sucking.

Pressing your legs together to stop the heat from between them spreading, you continued sucking and gently licking his dick.

Diluc huffed and pulled you away.

“Diluc? Wha-mmggh!” You gagged as he shoved his dick into your mouth, thrusting into the back of your throat. Tears prickled the corner of your eyes, and Diluc chuckled.

“You wanted me to shut you up didn’t you? Where’s that challenging attitude from before?”

You gripped his thighs, and Diluc thrusted in further before pulling your hair and making you look up at him.

“Look at me, ngh- won’t you? This is how you properly suck your master’s dick alright? Mmph, yes, just like that. Be a good doll and take it all in.” He moaned.

You felt your jaw numb, tears rolling down from his size.

Before long Diluc groaned, almost reaching his climax. You tried to pull away but he pushed his cock, making you drink all of his seed.

He looked down at you, a smirk on his face. “Drink it all. Don’t let a single drop fall.”

You swallowed and fell back, coughing.

Still gasping for air, you let out a surprised gasp as you felt a pair of arms lift you up, pushing you against he doorway. You tried to turn around but Diluc kept you firmly in place.

“Are you really that wet just from sucking me off? So naughty~” he chuckled, pressing a finger against your sex. You moaned and tried to grind against him.

“Do you want to feel good?” He whispered, gently biting your earlobe.

You whimpered, nodding. “Please Diluc.”

He nodded and helped you take off your pants and already dripping panties.

Diluc rubbed your entrance with his finger, and you whined, needing him inside of you.

“Diluc.”

He lightly pressed his finger against you. “Address me correctly.” He ordered.

Your eyes widened and you turned to look at him. A determined and lustful expression filled his face.

You had to admit, you liked seeing him being so forward and taking charge. It made your skin prickle with heat, the way his eyes lidded and roamed around your body.

Taking a small breath you tried to get your voice to reply.

“M…master…” you whispered.

He raised a brow, an excited grin on his face. “Good.” He applied more pressure. “Now apologize.”

“A-apologize?” You repeated, voice still hoarse from before. “But-ngh!”

Diluc inserted a finger inside. However, he didn’t move.

“For talking to me that way before.” He pressed his finger inside you a bit. “For provoking me like that.” His lips caressed your neck, gently touching it. “Well?”

You huffed and closed your eyes, face heating up. “I…I’m sorry…”

He bit your shoulder. “For what?”

“I’m…I’m sorry for provoking you…master…’

“Good girl.”

You gasped as you felt him move his finger inside of you, quickly inserting another.

Diluc made sure to press all the right spots, making you moan out in pleasure.

“You’re so tight…” he whispered. “At least it means that bastard hasn’t touched you this way.”

“Aah! No, no just you…” you whimpered.

“Hm?”

“It’s just…just you Diluc…you’re the only one I want this way…”

“You…” Diluc’s face turned as red as his hair and he let out a nervous chuckle.

He pressed his cock against your wet entrance, unable to not be inside you anymore.

“Mr. Diluc?”

A voice called out.

You both stood still.

“Crap…” you whispered, turning to look at Diluc keeping an eye on the door. “Leon..”

The door was barely open. However if he walked in further inside you were sure he would catch you. “Diluc, if he comes in he’ll see-”

You barely finished talking before Diluc inserted his cock inside of you, making you gasp in pleasure.

“I can’t wait anymore.” He whispered. “Be quiet or else he’ll hear us.”

“But- wait- ngh!” You whimpered. Diluc roughly thrusted into you, his rough hands teasing your nipples.

“Sir?” The voice asked, the sound of footsteps coming closer.

“I’m alright, Leon.” Diluc called out, making the footsteps stop. “Did you…need something.” He hoped the boy didn’t notice the strain on his voice.

“Well…I finished cleaning up downstairs. Did Miss Y/N leave already?” Leon asked.

“Yes.” Diluc thrusted further inside you, hitting your deepest spots. “She just…left.”

You placed your hands on the wall, trying to keep your balance and accidentally grinding against him.

“Master Diluc…more” you moaned, moving your hips.

“Shit…” Diluc cursed, gripping your hips tightly and speeding up his pace.

“I can’t...I can’t, my voice, ah! Diluc, m-my voice…” you whispered.

Grunting, Diluc placed a finger inside your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds.

“Oh, well…if you have the rest taken care of then am I allowed to leave? Unless you need my help-”

“I do not Leon I-” he stopped as he felt you suck his finger, and squeezed your hips before he cleared his throat. “T-Thank you…you can go now.”

“Great! Goodnight sir!”

You heard the sound of footstep’s receding down the stairs, and as soon as you heard the front door close you felt Diluc’s hand move and you let out a scream of pleasure.

“Yes! Master, right there!” You gasped.

Diluc grunted and turned your head to kiss you, both of you separating only to moan or catch your breath.

“I love you…” he whispered.

You smiled.

“I…I love you too…I’m all yours Diluc…only yours…” you whimpered.

Diluc stopped, looking at you. A small smile appeared on his face and he bumped his forehead against yours. “I’m all yours as well my love….” he gently kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip, before moving again.

Eventually you both began to reach your peak.

Diluc placed a trail of kisses on your shoulder and began moving up towards your neck.

“I wonder…” he whispered between kisses, “I wonder what would happen if I were to leave a mark on your for the world to see…”

“Wh-what? Hold on, Diluc I still have work-anngh!” You whined, feeling Diluc suck on your neck until a hickey began to form.

He let go and stared at his handiwork with a proud expression, before biting your shoulder.

“Diluc!” You gasped.

He bit and sucked on every spot of your body- on your back, neck, shoulders, your wrist, and with every single place he made sure to leave a visible mark for everyone to see that he was yours, and you were his.

You whined and pulled on his hair, letting him know you were close.

Diluc turned you around for you to face him, moaning, feeling your walls clench around him in tightly, Diluc finished you off with a rough kiss, finally the two of you reaching climax.

He grabbed you and pulled you down on the floor with him, placing your head on his chest.

His body emitted warmth, and you cuddled closer to him.

“I can’t believe you almost let Leon see us.”

You eventually said, voice raspy from screaming.

“Hmph, he never comes inside the room unless I ask him to. If I knew we were going to be caught I wouldn’t have kept going.”

You scoffed and looked up at him before laying back down. “Ugh, still you- you’re lucky he didn’t come in.”

Diluc chuckled before burying his face into your hair. “You know I wouldn’t let anyone else see you like that, dear. It’s only a privilege I alone posses.”

You flushed at the words and cleared your throat. “Mmm, fine, you’re right.”

You both laid in a comfortable silence before you sat up and turned towards him, caressing his cheek. “I’m sorry I accused you of not trusting me. I know you were only worried. But believe me when I tell you I have things handled- the only person I want in my life is you.”

Diluc gently pulled you down and nuzzled your nose against his before smiling. “I understand. I apologize as well. I know you are more than capable of punching the life out of that miserable adventurer if he tries to do anything to you.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose.

You laughed and laid on top of him, sighing as he pet your hair. “Hmm true, I do throw a pretty mean punch. I’ll try not to work too late, alright? But you need to promise me the same.”

“Alright.”

“And don’t try to kill someone just because they hit on me. I can take care of that.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright.”

“I mean, you don’t see me walking up to Donna and threatening her every time she mentions you right? Because-mmph, Diluc!” You scolded him as he turned you around and kissed you, smiling lovingly.

“Do you ever quiet down?” He teased.

You smirked. “Mmm no. Why don’t you try and make me again, pretty boy?”

It wasn’t before long that the two of you began round two.

Next day you chided him because you had to wear a coat over the sweltering heat, to cover every single mark he had given you.

Diluc only smiled proudly at the statement, but everyone else had thought you were either sick or had become mad for wearing such warm clothes during summer.

After Kaeya teased you for the upteenth time about your outfit, you made a mental note to get your revenge that night, as soon as you were done with your commissions.

#genshin smut #diluc smut #diluc genshin #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader

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honeeslust · 8 months

Text

Them (Original Post)

🖤Again I rushed but I had to bang this out before I lost it lol.

🖤Word count approaches 3k

I’m making this one for the anime boys we love to fantasize about. You know the ones who are eternally annoyed with everyone and everything.

The ones who have a bad attitude and who are never scared to speak their mind. The ones who talk a big game because they are 100 percent willing and able to back it up.

I’m talking about the ones who break out those 1k killawatt smiles just before throwing hands.

I'm talking about the ones who always complement their golden hearted counterparts foe/rival/main characters so well because they're the ones who you could easily see flipping that switch if it ever came to it.

Yeah them. They’re the ones.

So that’s this is for you, because if you feign like I do, you believe they would fuck the the way they fight 🥵🥵🥵

Take your pick 😉

Names: Bakugo, Vegeta, Todo, Baji, Sanemi, Genya, etc.

He tells you he doesn’t feel like going out dancing tonight. He doesn’t really dance and he doesn’t like crowds. It was exactly like him to tell you no and then turn around and surprise you. Sometimes you wondered if he would do so just to see you pouting because as much as hated to admit it, he loved to see the way your face lit up when he would surprise you.

Surely enough, after he picked you up from work he told you he would be taking you home to get ready while he took care of a few things. You begged him to tell you what you were getting ready for. But he was so attuned to you that he easily redirected your focus telling you to start thinking about what you’d wanna wear. He even followed that up by letting the top down and putting on your favorite song so you would sing and dance.

Later that night

You could hardly contain your excitement. You loved how he always found a way to make you smile. His constant attitude towards the rest of the world made him seem like a complete ass and some wondered what you saw in him but you knew your big meanie would let the world burn just to see you smile.

And tonight was the first time you would actually get a glimpse of that.

You got dolled up. Dressing in the outfit you felt the sexiest in. You wanted your outer beauty to reflect how good you were feeling on the inside. But what’s more is that you knew that showing a little (shoulder/cleavage/legs) would definitely make it that much harder to wait until he could get his hands on you.

Your night started perfectly, you had dinner (bar food/fancy restaurant), and after, you took some time to walk through the streets of downtown. He was a gentleman to you, carrying you over puddles and holding your hand whenever you would smile at him. Usually, he wasn’t a fan of PDA but seeing you in the outfit you wore made him a little more handsy, but you didn’t mind the attention. He kept close to your side, seeing how many heads would turn your way when you walked by.

After a while, he checked his watch and told you it was time for him to call an Uber to take you to your next destination.

(Dress or skirt wearers)When your car arrived you slipped inside trying not to expose the secret of not wearing any underwear just yet. You wanted that part to be a surprise for later.

You sat in the car riding in a comfortable silence. You were just so happy to be there with him at that moment.

You smiled to yourself as you watched him. His permanent scowl never wavered as he made sure the driver kept his eyes on the road and not on you. You shook your head laughing to yourself to which of course he asked to be let in on the joke.

You lean on his shoulder and start to trace some of the lines along his beautifully inked bicep. It’s nothing, I just like that you have this thing you do.

You paused to blush as you found it a little silly to still have such girlish tendencies when it came to this sort of thing. His hand moved to your thigh and he squeezed, what is it?

…it’s just, I see how you’re always watching. Everything and everyone. It feels nice. It makes me feel safe, thank you.

To this he scoffed and looked out the window. I’m your man, it’s my job to protect you. You don’t need to thank me for that.

You swooned, feeling the butterflies and kissed his hand and he squeezed your leg again in return.

… You arrived.

Again your heart soared when you saw how he took the time to find a cute little (bar/club/dancehall), as well as gather your (friends,/or not) for you to have the night you wanted.

You told him you just wanted to dance and you did exactly that. You had a few drinks and suddenly the music felt louder and the rhythm moved through you. Your man stood his guard just off to the side watching you move on the dance floor.

It didn’t last long at all though. As soon as the first mouth breather approached you for a dance, your man was on your heels and then in front of you.

She’s with me was all he said and his opponent clearly didn’t appreciate losing out.Sensing the tension you wedged yourself between the two and grabbed for his hands. You placed them on your hips and started to sway the music. You danced like nothing was wrong, hoping to pull his attention back to you, but the intense stare down continued. You reached up and brushed your fingers over the back of his neck as you pushed your ass into his crotch a little more. You tugged at him, begging him to let it go.

Finally you felt his hand squeeze your waist. Said mouthbreather retreated into the sea of people and you continued dancing. He hated to dance but he could move just enough to follow the way you would twirl your hips and arch that ass against him.

He kept that hand splayed perfectly between your hips and his fingertips rested just above your pussy which he didn’t know was bare under your outfit. His bulge gave you a little encouragement to cop a few feels of your own just to watch his cheeks turn red from how much you teased him.

You danced the night away and enjoyed yourself just as he wanted you to. You both headed outside to wait for another Uber to head home for the night. Nothing could ruin how good you felt. It was everything you could’ve wanted and more.

That is until the mouth breather reappeared. As you exited the venue, more and more people were spilling out around you. You overheard his attempts to get a rise out of your man. He talked out the side of his neck making his petty comments as he passed by with his group of Neanderthals.

You both ignored them. Well— you did but he was definitely on edge. You felt all the muscles in his arms growing more and more rigid and automatically, you tucked yourself into the safety of his arms.

Something sunk in your gut and your hair stood on end. You felt the energy shifting and suddenly you were aware of just how many people were around. Your heart started beating so fast that all of the noise around you seemed to grow silent.

The group from earlier had started to move a little differently. You noticed so you knew that he did too.

You took his hand and encouraged him to walk with you and to your relief he obliged. You hoped the men would be satisfied if they thought you both had been scared off.

You walked for a while and he stopped to check his phone. Your Uber had canceled due to you both not being at the pickup location. Annoyed, he clenched his jaw and you saw the way his temples flared. He was still on edge and you were too. But you smiled as you slipped your hand into his, and the warmth making him soften just a little.

He found another, but your tricky location in the city made it so that you had to meet the car closer to where you first started out. As you headed back, you complained of your feet being tired and he lifted you into his arms bridal style making you laugh.

As you neared the venue, a car rolled past and stopped a few feet ahead of you both. You expected him to stop walking but he didn't.

Instead he calmly walked past the idling car and didn’t bother to look in their direction. Your entire body stiffened when you heard one of the car doors open.

Still he carried you as if nothing was wrong. A loud whistle made your stomach drop and your throat instantly went dry.

Aye , I bet you let your bitch shake it for you too huh?

This time he stopped dead in his tracks. He set you down on your feet and touched your face. You didn’t know what was happening but you wanted to keep going until you could get the hell outta there. You stared at him confused as a daunting grimace replaced his scowl. Was he actually happy about this??

I’ll just need a minute, stay here and I’ll be right back. He said, kissing the top of your forehead and turning his back to you.

He walked toward the group of men who were all out of the car at this point. Even though this made you panic, something about the way he looked at you told you that everything would be ok.

He didn’t waste any time talking as he approached them. It all went down so fast because— well, he was fast.

Clearly none of them expected what came next. The way he moved with so much agility and prowess was surely something his opponents hadn’t seen coming.

And you…

Well, you knew he was strong. You knew he could fight. But you had never seen it like this. And you never expected the way it would make you want to jump his bones. When it was all said and done, he charged back toward you and took your hand in his. He was practically dragging you along as he rushed to get away from the scene before any police could show. He turned a corner and pulled you to him.

His intention was to make sure you were ok but your mind was preoccupied with what you had just witnessed. When he went to touch your face and your eye caught the harsh bruising on his knuckles, you took his hand with both of yours and kissed the back of his jagged fist. For the first time you had seen what brutal lengths he would go to to protect you, and this made you feral.

Home

As soon as you entered the door, you latched onto him, desperate to feel his strength. He held you up and kissed your lips as he carried you to the couch.

He laid your body down and sat up to strip out of his tattered shirt revealing a few bruises across his tight abs. You felt like every second this man was not inside of you was agony. He lifted your dress and paused to grope your bare ass in his massive hands. His smile had you pleading for him to fuck you.

He gripped the hem of your dress and tore the fibers away from your body like they were made of paper and again he stopped. If only for a moment to admire the beautiful bundle of writhing flesh that was you, as you so desperately trembled under his hand as he skimmed it down from your neck and between your breasts and finally down to your stomach where he pressed down giving him the reaction he wanted.

Your body screamed at the grin he gave you in return. It he same boastful grin you saw before his fight and this left you clinging to him as he lined himself up with the slick heat between your legs and he held you there. So much anticipation could’ve killed you from how bad you wanted this man.

His cock pulsed against your overflowing wetness and he whispered to you “tell me who’s pussy this is”

“Yours daddy. It’s all yours” you breathed.,

“Yea…” he whispered before pressing a sloppy wet kiss you your lips

“Mmm—-.” You moaned as he pushed inside you so slow that you creamed around him.

“Yea-h” he shuddered as he felt your walls warming his stiff cock in a tight hug.

As he began to move you saw it again. The melee and the madness was seared into your mind and you wanted him more. You wanted to taste that power that pulsed through his veins. You wanted him to pour all of that unused energy into fucking your absolute brains out.

And he did exactly that. Every thrust matched the image that played in your head over and over again. His fist slamming into the man's face over and over again. The blood. The brutality. You wanted it all.

Your face was so beautiful scrunched up from how good you felt You looked so pretty that he had to fight to hold on. All that strength he possessed and he was weak from one look into your eyes.

You called out his name and wrapped your legs tight around him. His hands clung to your hips as he pumped into you.

He made you come once grabbing your tits and pinching your nipples while he rocked into you. your nails drawing angry red lines down his back..

…and again when he had your arms pinned behind your back and his cock forced one of the wettest and stickiest climaxes out of you.

…and then at last when he folded your legs back and slurped the honey from your trembling battered cunt before sinking back inside you even deeper than before. He held your legs back with one hand and palmed your entire sex with the other.

This time he worked slowly as he neared his own release. His hand rested precisely where it needed to be. His thumb worked little strokes over your clit and his fingers pressed down right above where his tip would protrude every time that thick cock found it’s way back to the depths of your soul.

The build was slower but sweeter. Your body tensed as you felt him swelling inside and he asked you again who’s pussy is this baby?

You couldn’t even think, let alone make words but he needed to hear you say it.

Look at me baby! He said it so softly that you couldn’t believe his voice could be that soothing. Your eyes opened lazy and slow and you watched the sensual flexing of every muscle along his hips as he fucked you deeper.

Again he pressed down and asked who’s is it, let hear how good this dick makes you feel, pretty baby, cmon? He said working your clit a little more and pressing that spot just right.

You cried. Yours, it's all yours. You said as actual tears streamed down your face and your pussy rained wet all over him. You held him inside and tensed over and over again, soaking him as you milked his healthy cock for all it was worth while he praised and appreciated how good you came all over his dick.

At the end of it all you were shattered but in the best way.

You woke up in your bed to him cleaning you with a warm towel. He followed with your (bonnet/removing hair pins/jewelry/etc), and even brought your (makeup wipes/breathing machine/sound machine/whatever I’m tired lol), before spooning his body behind you and letting you tuck yourself underneath him. And you both drifted off.

@callm3senpaii is where I got the idea for this pick your player style fic. I hope you enjoyed.

From the The honey pot 🍯

#katsuki bakugo x reader #vegeta x y/n #todo x reader #sanemi x reader #genya x reader #baji x reader #smut oneshot #spicy headcanons #smut writer #jjk season 2 #kny smut #kny fanfic #kny x reader #jjk x reader #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #smutxanime honeeslust

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pyro-madder · 2 months

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wanting to show wholesome interactions between the hunter and various npcs vs wanting to stick to canon writing (nobody gives a shit about you)

Like... the Doll is "preset" to care for any dreaming hunter. Gehrman is introduced as your guide but after telling you the basics, only directs you towards optional stuff (the sheer betrayal i felt upon realizing that lmao) and fucks off to take a sad little nap for the rest of the game. I thought it'd be funny if, being part of your subconscious, you'd hear his voice in your thoughts sometimes à la Cruller in Psych0nauts - but also, you're just another hunter to him.

A few citizens are openly nice to you without ulterior motives, and most of them are outcasts like you ; Gilbert who's a fellow outsider, the Dweller ostracized for his disability (edit : his general appearance moreso and possibly his link to an abandoned place of worship as a whole), and Arianna who deals with the general stigma that comes with her profession (+ her link to Vilebloods, for those who Know). She and Adella are also grateful for you guiding them towards a safe place, nothing surprising.

Now for other hunters. I live for Gascoigne's friendly tag-along across Central Yharnam but agree with the hypothesis that it was cut to make the player feel more isolated and alone, and we know how it would end either way.

Then Djura. I raise an eyebrow whenever I see the term "befriend" for taking his deal ; yes, you'll pacify him and he'll give you cool stuff, but then will tell you to fuck off with no additional dialogue. I also wanna mention he doesn't sound the tiny bit surprised/betrayed if you break the deal, which says a lot ; to him too you are just another hunter and he knows how it usually goes with hunters. I could go on about Dju in particular but his detachment towards you is extremely understandable from his position in-game.

Eileen and Simon are recurrent encounters who are amiable by default, but even then running into them comes across as "oh hey you aren't dead yet, good for you lol" to me.

Alfred is... Alfred ? Also amiable by default, open to the point if feels out of place, and though he thanks you for getting him to the end of his questline he (supposedly) offs himself immediately afterwards, his obsession faith prevailing upon anything and anyone else. i'm at loss here sorry

This is non-exhaustive, we could speak of Valtr and Patches and Annalise and so on. but these were some characters I like to depict along the Hunter ; Gascoigne, Eileen and Djura as mentor figures, Alfred as a comrade, Simon as a companion in misery, and so on - stuff you can expect in my fanart basically - while still meeting the fate they meet in-game (except dju who's just chilling if you don't go out of your way to make it otherwise).

But in-game, you have no name that matters, and almost no ones gives you their name either, you only know them from item descriptions when it's not from a boss' health bar. You're all strangers to one another fighting and surviving from the same mess, and you - Good Hunter - are the latest wedge thrown in the gears, with no previous connection to anyone like the different members of the many factions you meet in the giant chessboard that is Yharnam and its surroundings. Still, you get those small moments of respite, and they're enough to hurt when they're taken away, sometimes by your own hand in a final act of mercy, no matter how predictable the end becomes.

#i was gonna ramble in tags but this went in tangents covering 70% of my thoughts about the game so it was gonna be a bit long #it's been 5 months i have thoughts and i must scream #the laurence theory is genuinely cool but i love the hunter as this miserable rando #who got caught in a story that's already done #who will kindly reach out to others stuck in that same mess (including those partly responsible for it)#but also try to get to the bottom of this for their own curiosity #and will run around like a little freak eating alien umbilical cords on a whim. based

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ladytauria · 7 months

Text

i read this fic (you want more and you want it fast - runespoor) some time ago and, uh

it would not leave my head <3

eventually i had to write down all the thoughts it gave me & then i cleaned those up into something resembling a not-fic. & then it was just a matter of, ah. convincing myself to share~

anyway!

warnings: unrequited bru/jay

edits: fixed some formatting issues, removed some brackets, and a sentence i had meant to fix before posting, lol

a hunger that grows, and grows

Jason’s feelings for Bruce are… complicated, to say the least. Mentor. Oldest/longest crush. Betrayal. Anger. Grief. Nothing easy or simple to deal with, and so Jason just… doesn’t. He does his own thing up until Bruce gets involved, has knockdown drag-out fights with him that leave him more frustrated than anything, and then usually heads to a bar, working his frustrations out with tall, dark haired, light eyed men before getting up the next day to start the cycle all over again.

It works. Or he does a good enough job pretending it does, anyway.

And then Bruce dies. (“Dies.”)

His usual methods of coping don’t work. He needs something more to scratch the itch; fill up the strange hollowness inside of him. And somehow… he ends up settling on Tim.

Half the reason the pretender is so fucking annoying is all the ways he reminds Jason of Bruce—both the parts he finds attractive and those he finds aggravating. (There’s a lot of overlap between the two, but Jason doesn’t like to think about that.)

So he tracks down Tim.

It works. Or he does a good enough job pretending it does, anyway.

And then Bruce dies. (“Dies.”)

His usual methods of coping don’t work. He needs something more to scratch the itch; fill up the strange hollowness inside of him. And somehow… he ends up settling on Tim.

So he tracks down Tim.

It actually takes a hot second—Tim is right on the edge of dropping off radar, which should probably concern Jason a little. But—honestly, whatever Tim is up to is someone else’s problem. He’s booked a ticket overseas, set to leave sometime around when patrol would usually end. Which means Jason has to move quick.

He’s not about to go asking for something for nothing, and since he’s looking to use Tim as a stand-in for Bruce, it only seems fair to offer him a similar opportunity. So. When he comes knocking at Tim’s door, he does it dressed as Nightwing. [Personally picturing the discowing suit bc of the deep vee, but, go with your heart.]

Tim lets him in; the annoyance on his face and in his voice bleeding very quickly into confusion as he processes what Jason is wearing.

Jason’s brand of flirting is a little taunting, a little aggressive, and utterly unsubtle. Tim—short circuits. It’s not necessarily that he isn’t used to being flirted with, or that he doesn’t know how to flirt back. It’s just… This is Jason. He’s had a crush on him since he was still Robin, and… Maybe all the violence and bitterness between them should have changed that, but it didn’t. If anything, it only made him burn hotter. So having all of that directed at him, especially right now? It’s a lot.

But Tim’s made a career out of thinking on his feet, and it’s not long before he reboots. It takes even less time for him to break the situation down.

He knows about Jason’s thing for Bruce. Knows Bruce didn’t reciprocate, or even really notice. Knows about Jason’s habits of seeking out Bruce lookalikes to fuck, especially after a big fight. And—well. Jason’s made enough derogatory remarks about Tim’s similarities to Bruce over the years. It’s not hard to figure out that this time, Tim is the one being used as proxy.

It hurts.

A lot.

But Tim also recognizes an opportunity when he sees one. If this is the only way he can have him… so be it. “I’ve got a plane to catch in the morning,” he warns, even as he slips into his best imitation of Bruce.

“Still got all night,” Jason says, flippant tone belied by the hunger in his eyes.

It’s a night they make very good use of.

Jason doesn’t even stir when Tim slips out before dawn—figuring, this is it. He got his on night, and now it’ll never happen again. He doesn’t end up having to try hard not to think on it; too busy just trying to keep his head above water.

Jason wakes alone and satisfied. And maybe… a little bereft, somewhere deep, deep down and unacknowledged. He lets himself bask for a bit, and then it’s back to business as usual.

The itch builds back up again. Normally, if his path hadn’t crossed with Bruce’s naturally, this is when he’d go looking for reasons to pick a fight. He thinks, idly, about reaching out to Tim again. Maybe even looks him up, just to see what he’s doing, only to learn he’s nowhere to be found. Jason tells himself that’s not concerning at all, and anyway, he wouldn’t want to make a habit of fucking the pretender. Tim’s too crafty for that.

Things go back to something resembling normal.

Of course, then Tim does finally show back up again, and brings with him a shitload of chaos…

…and, eventually, Bruce.

It’s— Jason doesn’t know how to feel about it. Things are—different. Bruce has a new Robin. Tim’s struck out on his own, claiming his own territory in Gotham. Jason doesn’t need to show up for family dinners to see the tension there. Even Jason’s relationship with him is different. They circle each other, almost awkwardly. There’s this… almost-want of a reconciliation; a tentative truce building between them.

Until it blows up in their faces, of course.

Jason leaves the fight angry and frustrated and seething—but also hot under the collar. Before, he would just find a bar and look for someone who could almost, in the right lighting (or lack of), pass for Bruce—or who looked like they could fuck Jason hard enough he wouldn’t care.

But…

Well. It hadn’t been enough when Bruce had first “died,” and ever since his night with Tim… He’s not sure it ever will be again. So he finds himself on Tim’s doorstep again—possibly in the same outfit? Or maybe a different era costume? Or something totally different. He figures, well. Last time Tim had him out of the suit pretty quick, so he must’ve been into it.

Tim’s surprised—but again, doesn’t turn Jason down. He does tell him to ditch the costume next time. Nightwing doesn’t do it for him.

Again, Jason leaves satisfied.

After that, it keeps happening. Jason abandons the costume idea entirely; just shows up at Tim’s door in or climbs through his window. Sometimes he brings food, usually he doesn’t. They fuck. Sometimes they even stay together until its time to get up, becoming—almost friendly, in those small windows of time.

The time between visits starts to decrease, until Jason isn’t really seeking him out because Bruce pissed him off anymore. Tim is still putting on a Bruce-esque persona, though. He’s also never the one to initiate, which Jason notes idly but isn’t concerned about… yet.

And then one day, when Jason seeks him out, Tim is… tired. He’s fighting with Bruce. He’s still got the primary role in the company. He’s pretending to be injured. He’s not on good terms with Dick (though they’re mending). Damian hasn’t tried to kill him in a few weeks but there’s still animosity. Things with Steph are… weird. Strained. Awkward. He’s glad she’s back. He’s angry at her for lying. She’s pissed he’s not talking about his disappearance, and the thing with Pru, and. You know. Everything. The Titans are back but he’s not leaning on them like he used to. He’s still managing everything that happened with the League, the missing spleen, and now Boomerang…

He’s tired.

He wants.

His persona cracks, and a little more Tim shines through. Jason… likes it. He doesn’t know what’s different; he’s really only encountered fake-Bruce Tim and Red Robin Tim. Everything else has been glancing. Brief.

But by the next time they meet, Tim’s rebuilt his defenses, and… it’s the same as before. Except now, the formerly mind-blowing sex is— Still good, but. There’s something lacking, a missing mysterious thing that Jason has no idea how to ask for. It’s… frustrating. The itch comes back, more fierce than before.

He ends up talking to someone—probably Dick, but maybe Steph, or Babs. He doesn’t mean to turn the subject to Tim, isn’t even intending to ask about him, but. The others have noticed Tim & Jason’s new… closeness, if not the reason for it. Whoever it is he talks to happens to mention that Tim used to really look up to him—idolize him, even. Probably in the context of a warning, but not necessarily.

A few things click into place. He keeps his distance from Tim for a bit; turning thing over in his head. Certain misinterpretations are cleared up, but… Jason also has new questions. Questions he doesn’t intend to just ask outright—he knows Tim wouldn’t answer him. Or, if he did, it wouldn’t be true.

So he decides to do something a little—reckless. Or, maybe not reckless, so much as embarrassing. Painstakingly, he assembles an accurate (well, mostly) Robin costume. The same one he wore, during his tenure. He barely manages to swallow his embarrassment enough to assemble it, let alone put it on, and covers quickly with a long coat.

The trip to the Nest is agony. He finds himself flushing every time he’s reminded of it. And when he gets there— He hasn’t knocked on the door in ages, but this time… He can’t do anything but, and waits anxiously for Tim to show up.

Tim lets him in, eyeing the coat with strong suspicion.

When the door is shut, Tim takes in his appearance with an impressively neutral expression, considering Jason is sure he looks ridiculous, wearing a long overcoat despite the mild weather and his face, ears, and neck blotchy with embarrassment. “I thought we agreed no more costumes,” Tim says, finally. Jason swallows hard. His face grows hotter. He resists the urge to tug at his collar; instead undoing the buttons of his coat with trembling fingers. “I— We did. But…” He takes a breath. He’s too off-kilter to make his words sound seductive, but he continues anyway—“I think you’ll make an exception for this one.” And then, before he can lose his nerve, he shrugs out of the overcoat. The Robin costume—sans cape, and pixie boots. And gloves. But he was wearing the red tunic, and the scaly green panties. And they are panties, unlike the original. But he’d thought a two piece might be more… practical. It’s the closest thing he’s worn to the original suit in… years. Since the Tower, and that had been far less faithful. He feels… ridiculous. Overgrown. Out of place. But… There’s still a little bit of magic, too. He keeps his eyes on Tim despite his nerves. Watches the almost imperceptible way his eyes widen. The way his hands still. The way all of him stills so completely Jason worries, for a moment, that he isn’t even breathing. It stretches long enough Jason feels himself starting still; ice creeping through his veins. This was a bad idea. He fucked up. At best—Tim laughs at him. At worst… At worst he’s dismissed, derided, humiliated, and never to make things right, or see if they can’t, maybe, be something more. Then there’s a short, sharp intake of breath—and Tim moves, so suddenly Jason might wonder about latent speedster genes, if he wasn’t otherwise occupied. Tim kisses him feverishly, licking into Jason’s mouth like he’s starved. One hand tangles in his curls; the other wanders. Over his chest, teasing his nipples through the tunic before tracing the Robin emblem. (Jason isn’t going to examine the way that makes him shiver.) Then down over his rib cage, his stomach. Teasing the hem of the panties before palming him through them. Squeezing, as Jason gasps into his mouth; rocking his hips forward. Tim smiles, smug and satisfied. “Feel good, does it, Robin?” The name— the tone— His moan is torn from his chest, so hard it’s almost painful. He whimpers, after, the heat spreading down his chest. His whole body prickles, skin tight and sensitive. Fuck.

They don’t even make it to the bedroom. Tim, well. He tries, but god, he cannot keep the Bruce-persona going, and Jason watches the mask fall in real time. It’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

Later, when they’ve both finished at least once, they lay next to each other, and Tim asks quietly, “What gave me away?” The question is so mild, so innocuous. He could be talking about his thing for the Robin costume, or any number of things. But Jason knows. So he tells him, “Nothing I would have noticed for a long time.” Because it’s true. He prides himself on being observant, but.. he wasn’t looking for it. Didn’t know to, and never would have expected it, from Tim of all people. He feels… guilty. “Dick brought up some stuff, though, and… Well. All the things I’d missed were… obvious.”

Then Jason admits that he’s enjoyed the times they’ve gotten to hang out, and the longer this has been going on, the more he’s been disappointed when they don’t get to. And… the times that Tim has been more himself, less Bruce… they’ve always been his favorite.

He doesn’t want to jump into something before he’s ready, rush it, and end up hurting Tim when it doesn’t work out but— He thinks, if they go slow, that they could have something. If Tim is willing to give him that chance, to know him.

And, well. What does Tim have to lose? His heart is already on the line. So he says yes.

(It happens, bit by bit, so slowly he doesn’t even notice, until, one day, Jason looks at Tim and— He can’t. He can’t picture anyone else at his side, can’t imagine wanting anyone else. He’s happy, here, with Tim, and so, utterly in love.)

-> AO3 <-

#jaytim #timjay #not fic #tauriawritesfanfic #taurisnotfic #i'm not entirely sold on the title but #its been living in my documents as 'name later' so i cant even give u a placeholder name #anyway <3 #i have another not-fic i want to share but i need to conclude it #the other one is VERY firmly in the 'i will probs never write this' folder #this one...#i dunno maybe #i don't rlly feel qualified tho lmao

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