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reidmarieprentiss · 1 month

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Home From The Bar

Summary: Y/N goes on the town with the ladies from the BAU, she calls Spencer to pick her up.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: flirty fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, getting drunk, doing embarrassing drunk things, suggestive content (16+)

Word count: 2.8k

a/n: can be read alone but it is a blurb from Finding Home Again !!

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Y/N had grown a lot closer to the BAU ladies over the past few months. JJ, Emily, and Penelope had become more than just Spencer’s coworkers—they were her friends too. So when they invited her out for a girls’ night, she eagerly accepted. The evening had been a whirlwind of dancing, laughter, and more than a few drinks. Now, they were sat at a table, cooling off after dancing their hearts out and sweating through their clothes.

As the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing, the conversation inevitably turned sideways, as it always does when good friends and alcohol are involved. And unfortunately for Y/N, everyone was curious about her sex life with the good doctor.

“So… how is he?” JJ asked, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous grin.

“Be honest,” Emily chimed in, leaning forward with a sly smile. “Was he a virgin?”

“Is he a pillow princess?” Penelope added, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Their questions came at her in rapid succession, leaving Y/N no time to prepare. Under the influence of alcohol, she could only laugh at the absurdity of it all, her cheeks flushing with both amusement and embarrassment.

“Oh my god, you guys,” Y/N giggled, trying to deflect the attention. “You’re terrible!”

“C’mon, we’re dying to know!” JJ teased, nudging her playfully.

“Yeah, spill the tea!” Penelope added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/N shook her head, laughing harder. “I’m not giving you all the details, no way!”

“But he’s so… proper,” Emily said, leaning back with a smirk. “I just can’t picture him getting all… you know.”

“He’s definitely not a pillow princess,” Y/N blurted out, the alcohol loosening her tongue. The words were out before she could stop them, and the shocked expressions on the other women’s faces sent her into another fit of giggles.

JJ’s jaw dropped. “No way!”

Penelope gasped dramatically. “You’re kidding!”

Emily grinned wickedly. “Oh, this I’ve got to hear.”

Y/N held up her hands in surrender, still laughing. “Okay, okay! Look, all I’m going to say is that he’s… full of surprises.”

The women burst into laughter, clinking their glasses together in celebration of the newfound knowledge.

“Who knew the good doctor had it in him?” Penelope mused, still giggling.

“I always knew there was something underneath that nerdy exterior,” Emily added with a wink.

JJ shook her head, smiling. “Well, Y/N, you’re one lucky woman.”

Y/N smiled back, her heart warming at the thought of Spencer. “Yeah, I really am.”

Of course, the conversation didn’t let up—it just took different paths. JJ shared some funny anecdotes about Will, Emily regaled the group with wild stories from her past, and Penelope brought up that infamous “one time” with Derek that always got everyone laughing. The evening was a blur of laughter, camaraderie, and just a little too much alcohol, which led Y/N to realize that she needed Spencer to come get her—now.

She fumbled for her phone and dialed his number, her fingers slightly uncoordinated from the drinks she’d had. After a few rings, Spencer’s voice, thick with sleep, answered, “Hello?”

“Hi baby!!” Y/N yelled into the phone, her voice louder than she intended.

“Ouch…hi, Y/N. Are you okay?” Spencer asked, wincing at the volume, his concern evident even through his sleepy haze.

“Physically? Yes. Well, no actually,” Y/N slurred slightly.

“No? What’s wrong? Do you need me to come get you? Are you still at the bar?” Spencer was instantly more awake, worry creeping into his voice.

“Yeah, I’m still here. Can you please come get me?”

“Of course, I’m on my way,” Spencer replied, already throwing on his clothes and grabbing his keys.

His mind raced with a million possibilities—had Y/N hurt herself? Had she drunk too much? What could have happened? When he arrived at the bar, his anxiety spiked when he saw Emily smoking a cigar outside, a mischievous smirk on her lips.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with panic.

Emily took a slow drag from her cigar, exhaling the smoke before she responded with a smirk, “Oh, she’s fine… go get your girl, Doctor. She’s been waiting for you.”

Spencer nodded in confusion, rushing inside to find Y/N. He barely made it through the entrance when Y/N came barreling toward him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug and planting a huge, sloppy kiss on his neck.

“Spencer! You’re my fiancé, isn’t that just insane?” she laughed, her eyes sparkling with the joy and inebriation of the evening.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile, wrapping his arms around her, holding her steady. “Well, I did propose. I’m still amazed you said yes.”

Y/N’s expression turned serious, or at least as serious as she could manage in her current state. “I will never say no to you, Spencer. You are my best friend.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, touched by her words. “And you’re mine. But are you okay? You said you weren’t physically well?” His gaze quickly scanned her for any signs of injury.

“Oh…um, I have a problem,” Y/N mumbled, looking up at him with wide, drunken eyes.

“What kind of problem?” Spencer asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

“The kind only you can fix,” she whispered, leaning in closer.

Spencer’s concern grew as he looked Y/N over, trying to assess the situation. The dim lighting of the bar didn’t help, but from what he could see, she seemed unharmed—just a bit tipsy. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and the corners of her lips twitched in a way that told him she was up to something. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or more concerned.

“What kind of problem?” Spencer asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “I’m horny.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in shock, and he instinctively pulled back to look at her, making sure he’d heard her correctly. She looked back at him with the most innocent expression, as if she hadn’t just dropped that bombshell.

“Uh… what?” Spencer stammered, his voice going up an octave.

“I said I’m horny, Spencer,” Y/N repeated, a little louder this time, clearly not aware—or not caring—how public they were.

Spencer’s face flushed a deep shade of red as he glanced around, hoping no one else heard. “Y/N, we’re in a bar,” he hissed, his voice low and urgent.

“I know, and that’s why you need to fix it!” she declared, her hands fisting in his shirt as she tried to pull him closer.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Okay, let’s get you home before you say anything else that’ll make me die of embarrassment.”

Y/N giggled, holding onto him as they made their way out of the bar. “You’re the best fiancé ever, you know that?”

Spencer shook his head fondly, his heart swelling with affection despite the situation. “Yeah, yeah, let’s just get you home, okay?”

As they stepped outside, Emily caught Spencer’s eye and gave him a knowing wink. “Take care of her, Reid,” she said with a smirk.

Spencer simply nodded, still blushing as he led Y/N to the car. He managed to get her into the passenger seat and buckled in before they were on the road. Y/N immediately began fiddling with the radio, her intoxicated focus darting from station to station until she found something she liked.

“Oh!!! I love this song!” she exclaimed, as Lollipop by Lil Wayne started playing.

As the music filled the car, Y/N began to sing along, her voice a little off-key but full of enthusiasm. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at her antics, but when she started doing a tipsy dance in her seat—more of a rhythmic humping, really—his eyes widened.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he sighed, trying to keep his eyes on the road while his very drunk, very sexy fiancée put on quite the show next to him.

Y/N laughed, rubbing her hands over her body in a playful, exaggerated way, even groping her own chest. “See something you like, doc?” she teased, her voice dripping with sultry mischief.

“See something I love,” he grunted, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. It frustrated him knowing he couldn’t act on his desires while she was in this state. He loved her too much to take advantage of the situation.

Apparently, Y/N didn’t share that restraint. Before Spencer could process what was happening, her hand was reaching over, grabbing at his crotch without a hint of subtlety.

“Y/N,” Spencer choked out, his voice strained as he tried to keep control of the car—and himself. “You have to stop that, sweetheart.”

“But Spence,” she pouted, continuing her mischief, “you’re so sexy when you’re all serious like this.”

Spencer’s heart raced as he gently removed her hand, placing it back on her lap. “We’re almost home, okay? Just hold on a little longer.”

Y/N huffed, leaning back in her seat with a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but you owe me.”

Spencer laughed softly, shaking his head. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

With that, he focused on getting them home safely, all the while knowing that the real challenge would be keeping Y/N at bay until she sobered up.

When Spencer parked the car and rounded it to get Y/N, she was ready. The second he opened the door, Y/N sprang into action, pulling him down for a heated kiss. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she pressed herself against him with all the intensity of someone who had waited far too long.

“Y/N…” Spencer mumbled against her lips, trying to regain some composure before gently pulling back. “Upstairs first.”

“You are no fun, Spencer Reid,” she whined, pouting up at him.

“Hmm, I know, love,” he laughed softly, shaking his head at her antics.

Getting Y/N up the stairs proved to be another challenge entirely. She insisted on trying to walk behind him, grabbing his ass and making it clear she was enjoying the view. Spencer, on the other hand, was trying his best to keep them both moving without succumbing to her teasing.

“Hey, grab hands,” Spencer said sternly, taking her wrists in one hand and holding them behind her back, guiding her up the stairs with a firm but gentle push. “Get your drunk ass into the apartment before I drop you off at the firehouse.”

Y/N groaned, clearly turned on by his no-nonsense demeanor. “Fuck, this is so hot, Spence.”

“Shut up,” Spencer muttered, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

“Take me like this,” she purred, her voice low and sultry.

“I’m going to take you to bed,” Spencer replied, his tone exasperated but with a hint of amusement.

“Yesss,” she moaned, clearly misunderstanding his intentions.

“To sleep,” he clarified, his voice firm.

“With you,” she added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I will sleep on the couch if you can’t keep your hands to yourself,” he threatened, though they both knew it was an empty threat. Still, the seriousness in his tone made Y/N pause, her eyes widening.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Y/N mumbled, her voice small and contrite.

“Nope, not starting that,” Spencer said quickly, shaking his head as he continued to guide her up the stairs.

Y/N finally shut her mouth, pouting as they reached the apartment door. Spencer unlocked it with a practiced ease and gently pushed her inside, relieved to have made it this far without any further incidents.

“Alright, water, bathroom, bed, got it?” Spencer said, his hands on his hips as he looked down at Y/N with a mixture of amusement and determination.

“If I do it, can I get a kiss?” Y/N asked, her voice slightly slurred but filled with playful intent.

“Yes, you can have one—one—kiss if you do it all,” Spencer agreed, knowing it was the only way to get her to cooperate.

With Spencer’s assistance, Y/N managed to drink a full glass of water, albeit with a few spills. She then, somewhat successfully, removed her makeup, though Spencer had to point out a few missed spots. She brushed her teeth, giggling at the sight of herself in the mirror, and finally slipped into bed in her pajamas, looking pleased with herself.

Spencer turned off the light, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as he returned to the bed. He was ready to give Y/N her promised kiss, leaning down with a soft smile on his face. But as he approached, he realized she was already passed out, mouth open, snoring softly.

“Thank god,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head with a fond smile as he pulled the covers up around her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, the affection in his heart swelling.

As he settled into bed beside her, Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, thinking about how unpredictable and wild life with Y/N could be—and how much he wouldn’t have it any other way.

—

When Y/N woke up, she immediately regretted every choice she had made the night before. Her head pounded like a drum, her mouth felt like sandpaper, her stomach churned uneasily, and her body was too warm under the covers. She groaned, kicking the sheets off in frustration.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Spencer said, his tone gentle but laced with amusement.

“No,” Y/N grumbled, pulling a pillow over her face.

“No?” Spencer echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Not good morning. Bad morning,” she corrected, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“Feeling the effects of last night?” he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, nodding slightly under the pillow.

“Want me to get you some water?”

“And meds,” Y/N added pitifully.

“Be right back,” Spencer said, pressing a kiss to her head before heading off to the kitchen. He returned shortly with a glass of water and some painkillers. “Sit up and drink,” he instructed, holding the glass out to her.

“You’re bossy,” Y/N sassed, though she reluctantly did as he asked.

“You liked it last night,” Spencer teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What?” Y/N froze, her eyes widening as she looked at him, horrified. “Oh my god, what did I do?”

“Oh, do you not remember trying to mount me on the staircase? And then moaning when I told you to stop?”

“No! Oh my god, that is humiliating,” Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“It was pretty funny,” Spencer said with a snort, clearly enjoying himself.

“What else did I do?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, terrified but too curious not to ask.

Spencer grinned, clearly holding back a laugh. “You called me ‘daddy.’”

Y/N’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Spencer sat down beside her on the bed, his expression softening as he watched her. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” he said gently. “We’ve all done stupid things when we’re drunk.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think most people try to seduce their fiancés on the stairs while calling them ‘daddy,’” Y/N muttered, setting the empty glass on the nightstand.

Spencer laughed softly, shaking his head. “Maybe not, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. You were just being… affectionate. In your own way.”

Y/N peeked at him through her fingers, still covering her face. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No, not at all,” Spencer reassured her. “I found it kind of adorable, honestly. You’re always so confident and put together, it was nice to see you let go for once.”

“Adorable? I’m pretty sure ‘adorable’ wasn’t the vibe I was going for,” Y/N said, finally lowering her hands, though her cheeks were still pink.

Spencer smiled warmly at her, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. “It’s okay. I love all your vibes.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, finally starting to relax. “Thanks, Spence. You’re too good to me.”

“Only because you deserve it,” he replied, stroking her hair gently. “Now, why don’t you lie back down and rest? I’ll make you some toast and coffee.”

“Toast and coffee sound like heaven right now,” Y/N sighed, leaning into his touch. “But only if you bring it to me in bed.”

Spencer grinned. “Deal. Anything for you, even after you tried to seduce me on the stairs.”

Y/N laughed, her spirits lifting as she watched him head to the kitchen. Despite the embarrassing memories, she felt grateful to have Spencer by her side—someone who could make even the most mortifying situations feel a little less awful.

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year

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the checkup

summary: your regular doctor wasn’t in the day of your checkup, so you proceeded your appointment with his fill in…

cw: hospital sex

word count: 2.5k

you weren’t really the type that would go to get a check up every month, but you decided last week that it needed to change. you called the hospital and made an appointment for the man that’s been your doctor since you were in high school, dr. zeke, and made sure it was on a day you were absolutely free so you weren’t late.

when the day came you threw on some calm clothes before driving over to the nearby hospital for your checkup. as you parked your car, you put in one of your airpods and called your friend sasha on facetime since you knew it was a hit or miss when it came to waiting room time. “sup hoe” she mumbled, her phone set up at her vanity while she did her makeup. “sup biatch i’m finna check in real quick” you said before approaching the front desk. “hi what can i do for ya!” the overly happy lady at the desk asked. “m’here for my appointment. y/n l/n?” the woman gave you a small nod while searching you up on her computer to check you in. “you’re here for dr. zeke correct?” you nodded your head. “he’s not in today, but we can put you in for another doctor if that’s okay with you”

why would they not call you to let you know that? you would've been said no and not wasted gas to get here. you didn’t let the annoyance reach your face as you gave the lady a half smile before speaking. “and how long will be take?” the lady looked at her screen again? probably looking at how many other patients were under the replacement. “hmmm not long at all. there’s only one person ahead of you” you nodded your head before telling the lady you’ll take it. as you waited in your chair, you and sasha talked about random things to pass the time.

“yea he was real fine too. short hair, tattoos all over his body, strong arms, and the sexiest grills i ever seen on a man. and his accent? y/nnn i wanted to eat him furreal.” you giggled as you listened to your friend drool over this mysterious bartender she met a couple nights ago. “did you get his number or anything?” you asked. sasha gave you a “duhh” look before holding up a napkin with digits on it. “you know i had t’get that numberrrrr. can’t hold it in the camera too long tho. ion want you to try n steal em” you rolled your eyes as sasha threw the napkin back in her vanity drawer.

“miss l/n?” you lifted your head towards the lady peeking in the waiting room. “that’s me” you said, standing up before you approached the women. “aight sash i gotta go.” you mumbled before hanging up the phone. the woman had you follow her to one of the empty rooms, letting you sit down and get yourself situated before speaking. “okay so m’just gonna check your breathing, hearing, and sight. along with your blood pressure s’that okay?” you nodded your head, letting the women do her job without complaint. when she finished she grabbed her clipboard and headed out the room, telling you the doctor would be there shortly before exiting.

it was only about a five minute wait before your eyes were graced with a beautiful sight. dr. zeke has always been handsome to you, but the man before you right now quickly put him in the back of your mind. “hi, i’m dr. onyankopon jackson. you can call me dr. o, dr. j, dr. oj, it really don’t matter t’me as long as you comfortable.” this man had to be no more than two or three years older than you, fresh taper fade on his head, and shiny clear glasses that sat beautifully on his big nose. “miss? miss you alright” he said, genuine concern adorning his features as his dark brown eyes looked you over repeatedly.

you finally snapped out of your trance, sitting up straighter on the exam table as you gave the doctor a shy smile. “y-yea m’fine dr. o, just a little tired” you said, making his concern deepen as he began to approach you. “hmm, you been getting good sleep lately ms. l/n?” you shook your head as he pulled a small light from the front pocket of his lab coat, getting a good look at your pupils with the light before going to his clipboard to write something down. “you can call me y/n by the way. that’s what i’d prefer” he turned towards you and gave you a small smile. his pearly white teeth shining in the light of the room before he spoke. “okay y/n. i see you’re here for a checkup” he spoke as he read from the his clipboard. “you been having any pain anywhere?"

now where you really having any pains? no. you were healthy as a horse, but he didn’t know that and you didn’t want to leave too early, so ofc course you lied. “been having a little pain in my neck” you said, dragging it further by whimpering a little as you rubbed the back of your “pained” area. dr. o got right up from his seat, making his way to you before lightly touching your neck with his gloved hands. right at the bottom of his glove you thought you saw a hint of ink on his skin, but he was moving too fast for you to see it. “right here?” he asked, his deep voice already sending shivers down your spine. dr. o noticed this, smirking behind you as he continued feeling out the back of your neck for any lumps or bruises.

“mhmm right there” you breathed out. your voice accidentally letting your neediness slip from the feeling of his strong hands on your neck. you don’t know if he worked out or what, but the feeling of his hands were making you melt. “how this feel?” he mumbled before running two fingers from your neck all the way down your spine to your lower back. “feels like you got the wrong job. need to be a masseur.” a hearty chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as dr. o continued to run his fingers along your spine. “i’ll take it into consideration. would you book me?” his voice was like butter, so smooth and deep as he slowly moved his hands from your back. “definitely”

dr. o chuckled before making his way to the front of the exam table. “can you stand up f’me” you did as he said, getting down from your seat on the table before looking to him for your next directions. “try slowly turning your head from side t’side. if you feel any discomfort let me know.” you gave him a quiet “kay” before turning your neck from left to right then up and down. “i was gon say for you t’do that next, but you beat me too it. good girl, maybe you got the wrong job too” your stomach got butterflies from the praise. making you have to use all your strength to mask the fact that you were going crazy over this man. dr. o moved behind you touching your neck and back again to see if there were any changes from when you were sitting down to now.

“kay now bend over f’me. touch your toes if y’can” your palms were sweating now, making you have to repeatedly wipe them on your leggings before you bent over, touching your toes just like he said. you didn’t miss the small “damn” that left his mouth at the sight of your red thong showing through the thin fabric of your leggings. he once again had his big strong hands on your back, moving up towards your neck from behind you. as he reached the top of your neck you began to feel something hard poking your ass. “uhh doctor?” you said in a small voice, pulling dr. o out of his trance before he replied. “yes ma'am?”

“do you have something in your pocket?” his eyes slowly went from your ass to his pants, his hard on fighting the fabric of his black slacks just from the look of your body. he knew what he was about to do was very unprofessional and could probably cost him his job, but he just couldn’t resist any longer. “no” he said before pushing himself into you. his big gloved hands grabbing your hips to keep you from falling before the doctor began grinding his dick into your clothed pussy. a moan flew from your mouth at the contact, making your hand instantly fly to your mouth to keep from someone hearing. “y’know, ion think anything on your body hurts at all, but i can fix that. you want the doctor t’fix it?” as he spoke, your arousal started to flood your panties, quickly soaking them as well as your thin leggings. dr. o noticed this, smirking before slowly turning you around to face him.

“y-yes” you whispered, earning you a small kiss on the lips before he picked you up and placed you back on the table. “lay down f’me, there’s a spot ian get t’check yet” as soon as you laid down his gloved fingers were in the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down so he could get a better look at your panty clad pussy. “i jus know she’s pretty just from seeing her soak up like this” he mumbled before leaning down and giving it a sloppy kiss. the fabric of your panties getting even more soaked as he tongue kissed your clit through it. “o-ohh my goshh dr. o pleasee” you whimpered, your hands flying to his hair as you pushed his face deeper into you. he looked up at you, moving back so he can undo his belt with one hand and remove your soaked panties with the other. “you can call me ony princess. we more than well acquainted now” he said with a smirk before pulling your body towards him by your thighs. ony freed his dick from his boxers, the sight of it making your eyes widen. this man was packing. he smiled at your surprise, teasing you a little by rubbing it up and down your already sensitive pussy.

“i don’t have a condom” you leaned up towards him, your lips centimeters away from his as you caressed the nape of his neck. “put it in, we’re more than well acquainted now” your big brown eyes blown with lust as ony gave you a devilish grin. without another word he sunk deep into you, dick already filling you up and he was only halfway in. “you can take the whole thing can’t you ma?” you nodded your head, crashing your lips into his to muffle your moans as ony shoved the rest of his inches inside of you. he didn’t stop there, pounding you repeatedly without giving you any time to adjust, the stinging stretch of him bringing tears to your eyes.

“i know mama, but i’m a busy man. got another appointment in thirty minutes.” he continued to fuck you deeply, wrapping his gloved hand around your throat while having you suck the fingers of his other. the latex taste spreading all over your tongue as your drool began to drip from your lips to your shirt. “sloppy little mouth you got. wish i had enough time t'put it to work” you whined before slowly releasing his fingers with a pop, your pussy fluttering around his dick from the thought of him fucking your throat. “i can always come back for another check up” you said in a breathless tone, making ony smile before he quickly started picking you up by your thighs. “s’much as i would love that. i think i rather have you in my bed”

a smile would’ve graced your features if you werent getting fucked so good right now. you settled for a quick nod as ony continued to bounce your body and and down his dick. he gave you a few more strokes before putting you down. quickly turning you around and bending you over the table before sliding right back in. before you could scream, ony’s latex covered hand surrounded your lips. his palm muffling your cries as he quickly pounded away at your pussy. your clit rubbed repeatedly on the leather of the table as his strong thrusts would jerk your body back and forth. “you on the pill mama? don’t want you coming in here for different types of checkups” he said, smiling as he watched you quickly nod your head yes. you were eager for this man to cum in you. “good girl” ony groaned before picking up his pace, dick twitching repeatedly inside of you as he felt his release on the tip of his tongue. you were right there with him too, the double stimulation of your clit and g spot finally getting to you as you clenched tightly around his dick. “i feel it ma. let it out f’me” a shiver ran down your spine at his words, your final scream muffled from his hand as you shook and squirted all over his pants. the feeling of his cum filling you soon came after as the two of you caught your breath.

“you good?” he asked, turning your head towards him so he can check on you. there was a lazy smile on your lips as you looked up at him with glossy eyes. “feel so much better now, thank you doctor” ony mirrored your smile, his pretty teeth making your stomach do flips before he spoke “my pleasure”. as the two of you got dressed and fixed yourselves up, he removed his wet gloves and made sure to put that you were feeling great on his chart before handing you a paper to show that you’ve been taken care of. “aha! i knew you had tattoos. how old are you anyways.” you said as you looked at his ink filled hands.

ony looked up at you from his seat, smiling as he took off his lap coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. there were tattoos running up and down his arms and even some peeking at you from his collar. “got some on my chest too, but you just gon have to come over to see, and i’m twenty six” like you thought, he was older than you. a smile graced your features as you limped to the door, giving the man an annoyed look as he laughed. “you look like you might actually need a doctor now” you rolled your eyes at his teasing before straightening yourself up and walking as normal as you could out of the room.

as you made it to your car, you realized that you didn’t ask for ony’s phone number. “fuck” you breathed as you glanced towards the paper he signed before giving you. ‘maybe if i search up his name i can find his insta or sum’ you thought as you picked up the paper only to find that you wont be needing to do any of that. there in big red ink read his name and number with a little note at the bottom.

ony 347-***-****

‘call me when you need another checkup’

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black!reader #aot smut #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black reader #aot onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon x black y/n

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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Eddie x Fem!reader

master list

summary: feelings burst. Fluffy. Fluffy fluffy. Eddie helps reader when she finds herself in a bind.

warnings: no minors gtfo- eventual smut in the series.

W.C: 11.8k 🫣

A/N: per usual thank you the my beta readers @sweetsweetjellybean

Clunk

Clunk clunk humm

You were already late for work this morning and now this? Must be a fucking Monday. This must be that bitch karma’s payback for you talking shit about Eddie’s van the other night when he backed it up to the garage to unload some shit he salvaged from the junkyard.

“You would think that since you’re a mechanic, you could tune up that piece of shit so it isn’t so fucking loud.”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, unloading another arm load of car parts from the back of the van to the middle of the garage, “don’t dog on the shaggin’ wagon, you know how much ass I get in this thing?”

The unspoken agreement you had with Eddie the other night after spilling your guts about your past, gave you more patience towards him than ever before. Instead of finding him repulsive, you two were almost friends.

“No I don’t and also I don’t care.” you say taking a bite of a ham sandwich.

“More than a public toilet seat,” Eddie boasts, “Ladies love it, feel like I’m Shaggy or something.”

More like his other four-legged snack-loving friend.

“I really hope you use a rubber, don’t wanna extend the Munson blood line anymore than you have to,” you bite back.

“Oh sweetheart, I always wrap it with the groupies, especially watching Jas bounce from Gareth, to Big D to Walt all in one night.”

“Well look at you, Mr. Perfect bill of health.”

Eddie smiles widely a stupid grin plastered on his face, “I’m so good at the doctors they even give me a sticker. ”

Now here you are, stranded at the gas station east of town, past Merrill’s pumpkin patch. Losing all faith in your sanity, you slam your hand into the steering wheel one more time. Your chunky boots clunk across the pavement as you pull the door towards you, a dingy brass bell dings overhead, alerting the gas station attendant that someone has entered the store.

“Back again?” the balding creep with the greasy combover presses. His coke bottle thick glasses full of breakfast pizza slime from his fingers from pushing them up on in place after sliding down the oils on his nose. A brown paper bag with orange spray paint sitting next to it sat on the counter, and a tinge of orange around his mouth.

With no time for small talk or shooting the shit with the local bachelors of Hawkins, you simply need to borrow the phone and call… fuck. You didn’t want to have to call Boom’s, but the other shops didn’t open yet, and you didn’t know any of them. The decision was made.

“I need to use the phone,” you say laying your hands on the counter.

“No can do, this is a business line,” he spits, bits of his barely chewed breakfast falling from his over stuffed mouth.

Irritated beyond belief you say through gritted teeth, “What? My car broke down, I need to have it towed.”

Showing no sympathy, the combover greaseball says, “That sucks, don’t it,” a throaty chuckle erupts from him. Clearly the man got off from making next to little effort in helping someone.

“Listen,” you say peering over the counter to read the slobs name tag, “Ralph— you’re going to give me the goddamn phone so I can get my car towed, or I’m going to tell your boss about your little huffing habit. Got it?”

His cheeks crimson at your threat, “…what’s the number?”

After dialing it wrong three times, Ralph’s oversized fingers and his altered mind getting hung up on where the 4 was on the dusty rotary phone, you hastily reach across the counter and grab it and the Hawkins phone book. Flipping through the worn yellow pages, finding the number yourself and slotting your fingers in the appropriate places to get the number correct, it finally starts ringing.

Angrily tapping your foot, the serenade of dial tone ringing loud in your ear.

“Boom’s” a bored voice says, after ehat seems like hours of waiting.

“Hey, — is Eddie there?”

A scoff is heard from the other end of the phone, followed by an annoyed voice, “Why who wants to know?”

You don’t have time for childish games with whoever this fucking prick is. “Jesus Christ what is it with assholes today? Is he there or no?”

“I don’t know, you stupid bitch— why don’t you tell me if Eddie is here or—”

A scuffle is heard as the phone falls to the ground.

“What the fuck did I tell you? Huh? I’ll drop your ass just name the time and place mother fuck— hello?”

“Eddie?” You ask exhaustedly.

“Tooty? Oh shit, you miss me so much you’re making calls to my work?”

“E—” you begin, frustration rising.

“Or did you call to gossip? Ooooh, tell me all about the salon drama, is it that blonde again, damn just slap her already I know you want to.”

“Ed—!”

“Shit if you’re worried about going to jail I’ll come bail y—”

“Edward Joseph Munson!”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Did you just use my full name? I only hear that when I’m in trouble with Wayne.”

“Will you listen to me?! I need help. I’m at the gas station east of town and my car won’t start.”

“What? What happened?” Eddie asks, his joking tone immediately fading to concern.

“I have no idea, but I’m already late for work—can you come pick me up?”

“Usually this is where a please would be.”

“Eddie!”

“Ooh even begging?”

“Goddamnit,” you say under your breath, “Eddie will you please, come get me?”

“That a girl, see that wasn’t so hard. So where are you?”

Eddie rolls up in an old orange and white tow truck, head banging with a cigarette hanging limply from his bottom lip. “So what happened?”

“Well I drove here, got gas, and then it just wouldn’t start.”

“Damn, I wonder if your starter is out.”

“Great, so what the hell does that mean?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it is that or not, but if it’s not that— it means that your car is probably going to need more work than it’s worth, but I won’t know until I get it in the shop.”

“Son of a bitch.” you curse, covering your face with your hands and tipping your head back up to the sky. Could this fucking day get any worse?

After buying the house last year, your savings were completely wiped out, the last few months you had been pinching pennies trying to build it back up

“I’ll tow it, but I don’t think Boom has any loaners right now,” Eddie explains, “but since I’m such a kind, handsome, good roommate….”

You roll your eyes.

“I’ll bring you to work.”

Shock evident on your face, “You sure?”

“I mean its either that or the city bus, and last I checked—Hawkins doesn’t have one.”

Eddie agrees to give you a ride until your car is fixed on one condition, the band gets to use the garage for practices again. Too tired to fight with him, you give in.

He backs the truck up, moving the steering wheel with one hand the other hanging out of the window, his tongue poked out through his lips. He jumps down from the truck and maneuvers the wheel lift into place by your front tires.

The muscles in his forearms jut out, tattoos dancing with each movement and covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he grabs the chains from the flatbed and hooks them along your front tires, securing them into place. Your car is lifted slightly giving enough clearance to be able to tow.

“Ready?”

Bouncing along side Eddie in the tow truck you sigh heavily, “fuck, I hate Mondays.”

“Okay, Garfield,” Eddie chuckles, turning down the radio and glancing towards you, a cigarette balanced between his teeth, “could always be worse,” he digs into his front pocket for his pack of cigarettes and hands them to you.

You smile weakly and take the pack from him, plucking a tanned filter from the pack and shoving it between your lips. Before you can even say that your lighter is in the car, he’s leaning over. A scratched zippo with a fading design on it, in his hand already flicked open, the flame threatening to go out with the help of the lazy breeze through the open driver’s side window. It’s the same lighter he’s had since you first bummed a cigarette from him when you were thirteen.

Leaning towards him you put the cigarette into the flame, inhaling deep— the cowboy killers burning the pinky tissue of your lungs. He flicks the lighter closed with a metallic snap and smiles out of the corner of his mouth at you. Suddenly your lungs aren’t the only thing burning.

“Thanks,” you say, trying to avoid the skips in your stomach, “I usually prefer menthols, but I guess, these’ll do,”

“Always gotta bust my balls dontchya?” Eddie laughs, a stream of smoke billowing out from his nose. “Hey, uh— I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but that gas station is rated 5 stars on the creepiest place in town.”

You glare your eyes at him, absolutely not having it, “they have cheap gas.”

“There’s a reason for that, and every drug dealer in town sells out of there,” Eddie scolds.

“You would know,” you say in a hateful tone.

“You’re right,” Eddie protests, looking at you earnestly, “I would know— it’s not a good place to be— no matter what time of day, so stay away from it.”

You knew he was trying to look out for you, and from what Steve said, — he blamed himself for the things Chad did to you. But it was never his fault, he didn’t know just like most of Hawkins didn’t. You lived with the Wheeler’s and not even they noticed until you walked home that night. You decide to let it be. For once in your life agreeing to what he had to say.

“Alright,”

Boom’s was on the opposite side of town, the rest of the drive you listened to Eddie hum along to the radio and snuck a peek at him playing air guitar. Despite him being so foul, and a royal pain in the ass, he was actually a decent human being.

No other men in their twenties could help you through your panic attack, aside from Steve. But Eddie? He was different from Steve in ways that you couldn’t grasp. You didn’t find yourself staring at Steve. Even if you had been swimming with him on more occasions than you can count. Sure he was good looking, but you never once understood why the girls at the pool practically flocked to him. Eddie hardly ever wore a shirt around you and your stomach ached each time you saw his broad shoulders and tattoos. Steve was like a brother to you, he scolded you and gave you advice, all with his hands permanently attached to his hips. A mother hen among his friends. Eddie teased and taunted you, his irritating behavior and the way he chewed his food, the way his hair was everywhere in the bathroom, the way his hair looked when he was fresh out of the shower, a towel slung on his hips. The way his hips made a ‘V’, small trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband. Fuck.

Is it hot in here?

What the hell were you doing?

There’s no way.

No fucking way.

Nope, not today.

Not ever.

…

But what if?

Eddie couldn’t understand what was going on with you in the passenger seat. Instead of bitching at him like normal, you were staring out the window. Looking as if you were fighting a storm in your cute little head. Maybe you were reliving the past. Silently suffering through something that he should have been there to stop. But judging from your reflection against the dirty window, you didn’t seem to be crying.

After that night, Eddie was putting in more effort to make sure you felt safe. He gave you distance. Avoided the bathroom in the morning, and stopped making dick jokes altogether. He still joked around, still acted like an idiot— but his perverted meter was dipped into the green zone, the safety net.

He meant what he said, you didn’t have to be afraid with him around. And he would do whatever he could to prove that to you. So when you called Boom’s earlier and asked for help— he dropped everything to make the trek across town to pick you up. Especially when you told him the gas station you were at. Known for being the skeeziest one in town, he worried about you being there alone.

Seeing the tow truck pull into the parking lot, Sean and Aaron had their noses pressed against the glass, the cheap flimsy blinds hung crooked over their heads.

“Damn,” Aaron exclaims, “you were right, that is her.”

“Told you, Munson hasn’t shut up about her since he moved in. Wonder if Chad knows where she’s been hiding.”

Eddie parks the tow truck and you both climb out. He gives you the keys to his van and tells you he’d be right back. Walking into the shop with a whistle on his tongue, he goes into Boom’s office. He’s sitting at a worn down wooden desk. Papers, and receipts clutter space where a framed family picture might be. A steaming styrofoam cup of coffee in Boom’s left hand suggested he stopped at the donut mart, and a dozen of glazed holes from heaven would be sitting in the break room, their sweetness tantalizing the crew all day.

Eddie raps his knuckles against the yellowed paint by the door frame.

‘Yep,” Boom chirps without looking up, reading the daily arrest records in the Hawkins Post.

“Hey, I brought Tooty’s Escort back, I’m going to bring her to work quick and when I get back I’ll move it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Boom gripes, not looking up from the paper, sipping the coffee slowly.

“Dunno, I’ll take a look at it— “ Eddie shifts his weight from one foot to another, “I was wondering if I could maybe work on it after hours, or on the weekends.”

Boom considers what Eddie is saying, “off the clock?”

“Yeah, or maybe I could take some of my tools home? Work on it there?”

Boom thinks for a while, taking a sip of his coffee. His pudgy finger hovering near the name “William Hargrove” mulling over if he knew him. He finally looks up, “Whatever you wanna do, Eddie, you’ve got keys—I trust you.” Boom offers, “just don’t let those other two jackasses know what you’re doing and who for— that’s all they’ve been yappin’ about since you left this morning.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I’m just helping out a friend, don’t know why they give a fuck.”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit— but you’re my best mechanic, and those other two are on their last strike with me. One more time I read their name in this paper and they’re both out of here, and when that time comes— I’m sure they’ll be lookin’ for someone to blame.”

The familiar scent of stale weed and a spilled rotting beer in the back of the van flood your nose. Even though his van was a dirty pile of shit and it stunk like hell, you’re thankful for Eddie taking time out of his day to help you.

He could have easily told you to fuck off, hung up on you the minute you called. But he didn’t. He kept good on his word even when he didn’t have to. He doesn’t owe you anything and yet here he was, proving to you again, that he could be someone to rely on. You peer at him through your lashes, falling deep into a spell of fondness. He was always clean shaven, showing off his babyish features. If you didn’t know his age you wouldn’t guess he was over twenty two, his youthful pale skin a glow like the moon across a lake at midnight. The deep browns of his eyes squint in the bright sun, his dark eyelashes almost kissing his cheeks. His thick ringed fingers tapping on the steering wheel as ‘Holy Diver’ plays gently in the background. The bob of his Adam's apple jutting out as he swallows and takes a drag from a cigarette.

You barely recognize your own voice when you say barely above a whisper, “thank you, by the way— not just for today but for the other night,” your fingers go back to the same nervous habit, twiddling the end of your cream lettuce hem shirt.

“Of course,” he says, a look of shock on his face, “I know I like to give you shit, but I wouldn’t leave you stranded somewhere.” He looks over at you lazily and smiles. The kind of smile associated with cool guys on tv, the kind of smile that’s crooked and truly only on one side of the face. And for the first time, you smile too, letting the warmth radiate through your body, venturing into places that you have to readjust your crossed legs to avoid entirely.

Pulling into the backlot of the salon, where you and Nancy smoke cigarettes and read trash magazines, you jump out thanking him again, the creak of the door slamming back into the frame as you wave goodbye.

“What time?” Eddie yelled after you, silently admiring the way the sun catches your face, highlighting your features, the slight breeze catching your hair, he can’t help the smile that dances on his lips. “What time are you off work?”

Walking back to him, he’s leaning his head back on the head rest, an arm hanging out of the window, a stupid grin on his face.

“My last client is at five and it’s just a cut, so probably six o’clock, why?” A creep of jittery shock threatens your nerves, fluttering your stomach and sending waves of fluster through your body.

“Thought I’d pick you up, unless you wanna walk home?” He smirks, tracing the small paint chip near where his fingers set on the door.

Biting your lip and moving back on your heels you make your way back to the door, “Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be back at six.”

“Six” you repeat, turning on your heel and walking into the salon.

Eddie has thought about you all day, the cards of life and the hand you were dealt were shitty. But he was happy he was around to help in any little way he could. He thought maybe he was crazy, seeing shit when you smiled at him, a sort of shyness in the way you flirted by dipping your head into your shoulder almost giddy at him picking you up.

But that couldn’t be.

The rest of your day was monotonous. Shampoo sets, perms, cuts, rinse and repeat. The long haired metalhead hardly left your mind. When it’s just you and Josie left in the salon after your last appointment, it’s 5:30. She sits down, exhaling loudly. Her long dark braids trailing to her waist, cascade down the length of the chair as she leans back.

“Broke down again? Girl, you need a car that actually works.” Her hot pink fingernails dip into a bag of skittles, popping them into her mouth.

“I know,” you sigh, throwing yourself into your salon chair, “hopefully in the next few months I’ll have enough saved to get myself a new one.”

“So how did you get here? If we had someone else in the salon today I would have came and picked you up,” her mouth puckered into a sucking expression as she pops another skittle into her mouth.

“My roommate… he works at Boom’s so he towed it there and then brought me to work,” you express nonchalantly.

“Ooh the rich one who you used to work with?”

“Steve?” You say with a laugh, “No, Eddie Munson.”

“Eddie Munson? Why does that name sound so familiar? Ohh the infamous Hawkins bad boy, my cousins used to run around with him, some club or somethin’ ”

“Yeah, that's him, he’s turned himself around quite a bit since high school though.” The annoying need to defend him is obvious in your tone.

Josie’s eyes go wide, “Wait—“ she says, pointing a pink nail at you, “he had a girlfriend. He’s living with you? Shit, you’re a brave one.”

Heat creeps to your cheeks, the thought of Eddie having a secret girlfriend that you didn’t know about was almost torture on your soul, “no, no girlfriend… that I’m aware of at least.”

Speak of the devil and he will be present.

Opening the door with the sun waning behind him, peeking an orangy-yellow glow through his unruly curls, stood Eddie. His coveralls are full of motor oil and brake fluid. Black grease is smeared across his face, and his hands. Bandana still snug around his head.

“Oh shit,” Eddie blurts, eyes scanning around the room, bouncing from your face to Josie’s. Clearly uncomfortable in such a clean establishment. “Sorry, I’m uhh, a little early.”

Josie’s eyebrows are turned up in shock, her mouth slightly agape. “Damn, you’re the roommate!?”

Before she can embarrass you any further you blurt, “Josie, this is Eddie,” holding out a hand and pointing, introducing him to her, “Eddie this is my boss and the owner of the salon, Josie.”

Eddie waves with his fingers, “so you’re the one lookin’ after our girl here, the mechanic?” Josie asks.

“Uhh, yeah that’s me.” he puts a hand on the back of his neck and rubs it slow

Josie stands and walks towards you, a clicking of her heels and munching on her candy as she grabs your hand and drags you upwards, dragging you to the back of the salon.

Eddie looks around the room. The salon is decorated in light washes of pink and green and flowers decorate almost every surface, White painted baskets hang from the ceiling holding fake flowers. The salon chairs are black as are the mats under them. Green sinks in the back and cabinets overhead. Two mirrors on each wall and station with a name and family pictures decorate them. Eddie can’t help but notice that where you were sitting, there are only three pictures. A photo of you and Nancy looking like it was taken last summer, you’re holding up the keys to the blue ranch style house he now calls home. Another picture is of you Robin and Steve, in green Family Video Vests in front of the counter. You and Robin are both pulling one of Steve’s ears and he’s making a monkey face. The last picture is of you and Eyeball as kids, a portrait more than likely taken at a JC Penney’s.

“Don’t forget to lock up, okay? Enjoy your day off tomorrow. Eddie, be good to her!” Josie calls from the back, the heavy metal door slamming as she leaves for the night, a smile painted on her lips, shaking her head.

You walk back towards Eddie, he’s sitting in your chair, poking around at all of the different brushes and curling irons that were on your station. Your tired eyes scan him and find him in the mirror. “What is all this shit?”

“My tools to style, cut and color people’s hair.”

You’re standing behind him. You hesitantly grab one of his curls in between your fingers, noting how silky and smooth his hair is despite the split ends. “You could probably use a trim, Eddie. When was the last time you had your hair cut?”

“You think these curls have been in a salon? Please! I cut it myself thank you,”

“I can tell,” you mutter under your breath, going full hog and untying his sweaty bandana and tossing it onto the counter. “Come on, let’s go wash your hair, and then I’m gonna give you a trim.”

“You’re not cutting my hair.” Eddie protests, arms crossed and resisting.

“Your ends are dead, if you don’t take care of it now, it’ll keep going further up and then you’ll have to shave your head.”

Eddie practically trips standing up quickly. “Those are fighting words.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?” You ask in a bored tone.

“Actually no, but— okay fine! Only because you went to some fancy school.”

Eddie stomps over to the sink and sits down with a plop in the smooth cushioned black chair. You follow behind him and place your apron back around your neck, tightening it around your back. You lean his chair back telling him to lift his head from the headrest as you gather his curls into the basin.

Turning on the water and testing the temperature on your wrist, like a mother testing a bottle making sure it isn’t too hot for a baby, you gently put the spray into the ends of Eddie’s hair, gently working the spray up the length of his head to his scalp.

“Is the water okay?”

“Ow, holy shit!” Eddie yelps, his body flopping around like a fish out of water. You immediately turn the faucet the other way, apologizing profusely until you realize Eddie is shaking with laughter.

“Oh fuck, … you…” more laughing as he chokes out his words, “should have seen your face.” He mimics your face and bursts into a fit of giggles, you aren’t sure how long he would have kept it up if you didn’t put the hose directly into his face and throw a towel at him.

“Wipe that grin off your face or I’ll wax your eyebrows.” You spit at him, letting out a small laugh.

Mumbling from under the towel is faint but you swear you hear the word bikini.

Eddie finished cleaning his face and lays his head back into the sink again, you don’t ask this time but immediately start wetting his hair. “So,” he says, closing his eyes, so water won’t get in them, “I think I figured out what is wrong with your car.”

“Oh really? Is it going to be an easy fix?”

Not wanting to admit to you that he was working on your car for free or that he would borrow as many tools as he had to to get your car fixed, he settles for a half truth.

“Shouldn’t be too bad, gotta get some parts ordered for it.”

You let out a groan, “oh God— how much are they?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I just said, don’t worry about it, now treat me like one of your clients and tell me all the hot gossip in your life.”

Taking three giant pumps from the white shampoo bottle in the cabinet, you gently massage it into his scalp. Letting the cool smooth pearlescent liquid suds up. His hair feels like brown ropes of silk in your hands. All the years of having your hands in someone else’s hair were nothing compared to the odd feeling of lightly working the suds into Eddie’s mane. Baby soft. Luxurious in ways that contradicted the metalhead image he wore so well like a coat of armor.

You weren’t the only one admiring the way his hair felt in your hands.

Eddie is fighting hard not to melt into a puddle right there in Josie’s salon. Your hands were like magic against his scalp, your nails lightly scratching small circles against his skull. He was sure he’d fall asleep if he kept his eyes closed for any longer. It was the closest thing he could compare to what heaven would be like. Hints of tropical coconut mixed with crushed pineapple filled the air. He didn’t even realize you were talking until he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of your mouth moving over him. Your face was concentrating on the story that you were telling, but it fell on deaf ears. He was in a trance. The scrape of your nails against his head was almost pornographic to him. The way your eyes were trained on the job at hand. The way your lips parted and moved as you told the story. The animated look in your eyes, sparkling with each slow blink, your eyelashes teasing him.

He had never noticed the features of your face before. Usually if he was this close you were staring up at him and pointing one of those glorious fingernails into his chest, yelling at him— eyebrows pulled in, your face set in a scowl. But now here you were, scratching an itch he didn’t know he had. Filling a void he wasn’t aware was missing. He could die right now and he wouldn’t even know it. It was almost orgasmic the way you were making him feel, all with just simply washing his hair.

He caught himself before you could notice it. He crossed his legs and willed himself to think of anything else. Shutting his eyes and imagining the least sexy thing he could think of. Not wanting to ruin the moment between you both and make you never want to trust him again because he had got an accidental semi while staring at you while you were wrist deep in shampoo, scrubbing his scalp like a woman in the 1800s washing clothes on a board in the creek bed.

Nobody had ever washed his hair before, that he could remember at least. He never wanted it to end.

“…but that’s crazy right? Like she’s a psycho!” The hazy fog of lust finally left Eddie’s mind, his other four senses returning. Looking at your face and seeing that you were hurt by the story you had explained, and ashamed that he wasn’t even listening, he agreed, not even knowing if he should.

“What a bitch.”

You giggled, smiling down at him. Finally realizing you had been scrubbing his hair for almost five minutes, lost in the story. A stupid distraction to force yourself away from the feeling of the silk length of his hair, the way it felt in your fingers. Not wanting to let it slip away. You gather it all in one hand and grab the hose with the other, starting at the crown of his forehead, you rinse the suds from his hair.

Bubbles circle the basin. Disappearing down the drain along with the same shared feelings of lust and yearning. Shoved down deep away from the surface, hidden beneath hardened surfaces, shielded away from the inner depths of the softening heart.

You ended up cutting half an inch from Eddie’s curls, careful to not lose yourself in his hair again, almost cutting yourself in the process. Hee watched with wide sad brown eyes with each snip. “It’s like I’m watching you cut parts of my soul away.”

You roll your eyes, “It’ll grow back, and when it does it’ll be healthier and longer.”

His bangs were the next to be trimmed, not even half an inch taken off. You place a leave-in conditioner spray to keep his curls soft and to help with the tangles. Knowing full well that Eddie didn’t even own a hair brush.

When you finish and are sweeping up his curls, Eddie stands shaking his head like a dog and running his fingers through it. “Alright, I’ll admit, it does feel better.”

Since the agreement was made for the band to practice every other day of the week in the garage, Eddie had been bringing you to work, and picking you up. On days the band wouldn’t be practicing, when he dropped you at home, he would leave immediately after, sometimes not showing up again until midnight. Coming home tired as all hell, and just like you had done weeks before, a Tupperware of food with instructions on how to warm it up taped to the lid, would be waiting for him in the fridge, each and every time.

There was no more yelling from you when the three members of Corroded Coffin showed up. There were also no more beer cans or greasy food wrappers on the ground either. Instead a trash can sat in the corner, and Eddie paid for pizza after you ordered it.

Actually the band was pretty good. You would never tell him that, that would simply go to his head. And with the ego he already had, he didn’t need another boost of confidence, leave that for the groupies. So every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday night the band got together, playing covers from their beloved 80’s metal Gods and sometimes original songs they would write. All of them thankful that you let them practice in the garage, Big D picking you up into a bear hug and swinging you around like a rag doll.

“Jesus Christ, D, this is why the ladies run from you, you’re too aggressive, put her down!” Eddie barks. A pang of burning in his chest at the sight of you in someone else’s arms.

Big D sets you down and apologizes, “sorry Toots, and hey speaking of ladies, whatever happened with you and those hotter than hell twins?”

“Oh shit, Gareth hollered, “Fuck dude they were all over him, surprised he’s even able to walk with the way they were strung around him like cats in heat. You usually can’t wait to tell us about it, bragging until the next gig about it at least.”

“That’s cause he probably didn’t do shit, too chicken shit to handle them.”

Your stomach flips, so it wasn’t something you remembered wrong, there were two girls that Eddie had brought home that night. A strange feeling of angst washes over you, coating your mind with uncertainty mixed with inadequacy. Your cheeks warm, embarrassed by the way you are feeling. Excusing yourself to go order the pizza, you don’t see the way Eddie dismisses the guys, blowing them off with a “why don’t we keep our sexcapades to ourselves.” Or the way he throws a full beer at Big D.

After ordering the Corroded Coffin special, two large pepperonis, two large sweet and swine, and an extra large order of cheesy breadsticks— you go into the cupboard and bring out several bags of chips and five paper plates. Your favorite, sour cream and onion, and Eddie’s favorite, cool ranch Doritos. You let your mind wander. Thinking about him with those two girls. Realizing this is probably where he went at night after he dropped you off.

No need to feel like that when he was just your roommate, you shake the jealousy from your head. Just Eddie. Barely a friend. Yet he was still going out of his way to take you to work every day, till doing the chores you both shared. You let the silly feelings drop, carrying the chips and plates to the garage, shutting the door behind you. Pulling up your usual lawn chair, listen to the band play and finish painting your toenails.

When the boys end the song, they start again on the conversation they had started before playing, “dude I’m not dressing up as KISS again this year,” Jeff whines to Gareth “took me forever to get that white paint off my face. And don’t even get me started on the eyeliner.”

A spray of beer soaks the ground as Eddie spits it out, laughing hysterically about the memory of watching Jeff struggle lining his eyes like Paul Stanley. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “yeah I agree, I’m not painting your ugly mugs again this year, what else are you thinkin’?”

“We could all be different villains from scary movies. Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers’s, and Pinhead.” Big D suggests, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Nah, no chicks wanna fuck something scary. I don’t know about you— but I tried all of last Halloween to get some tail and no girl would even look my way with all that clown paint on.” Gareth huffs twirling his drum sticks in his fingers.

“What about you Tooty?” Eddie asks earnestly, “Do you and Robin go bar hoppin’ on Halloween or do you usually stay home like an old lady knitting sweaters and handing out black licorice and molding fruit?”

Making a face at him, you paint the last coat of polish on your toe nail. “Actually, Nancy and I usually throw a party. Costume contests, kegs, beer pong… we kinda go all out.”

Eddie picks his jaw up from the floor, scoffing, “no way— Nancy Wheeler and you, throwing a rager on Halloween? I don’t buy it.”

“Call Steve and ask him, he’s the reigning Cherry Lane Halloween costume contest winner for two years running.” You say with a smirk on your lips, stretching your legs and crossing them at your ankles, the pretty maroon polish catching the dim light in the garage. “You guys are more than welcome to come, obviously it’s on Halloween night, and the only stipulation is to bring a good costume, and $5 for the keg.”

Eddie moves his tongue over his teeth, twisting his body to look at his band mates, all three of them shrugging and nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be here,

“Yeah, if you think you’re up for it. Sure.” You say nonchalantly.

The smell of mildew and damp carpet currently being air dried with a fan stung your nose. The soggy basement and the crumbling foundation of Sally’s Secondhand in downtown Hawkins was a hidden gem and only open in the afternoons on Mondays and Wednesdays, but they had decent prices and good quality items when you were in a pinch if you could learn to breathe through your mouth for the time you were there.

“So how’s the roomie situation going?” Nancy asks, holding up a hand mixer with two mixing parts and a wooden handle labeled for .10¢. You had scored gold when you found a gently used, practically brand new waffle iron. It was wedged between two cook books for only $2. The same one Karen Wheeler had used on Sunday mornings. You were hunting for discounted Halloween decorations still not sure on what you were going to dress as and Halloween was this Saturday, Nancy was searching for spare camera parts for Jonathan and a toy cowboy hat for her costume that she wouldn’t tell you about.

Putting a masking taped bundle of forks into the blue plastic grocery basket, your forks magically kept disappearing everytime Eddie brought leftovers to work, you let out a sigh, “It’s going okay, better than it was in the beginning. He’s fixing my car up and I cut his hair a few weeks ago. I um.. also told him about Chad.”

Nancy stops dead in her tracks, blue eyes wide, her small mouth agape, “wh-what?!” Nancy was shocked at the news, you nonchalantly delivered like saying ‘fine’ when some asked how you were. She knew how frightening that situation was for you, it was scary for her too. Seeing someone she loved and cared about hurt in ways she couldn’t even fathom.

“We ran into him while getting groceries—like a month ago. I had a full blown panic attack, and Eddie, he helped me through it.” You go into detail explaining everything that had happened. Leaving out the part of you being comforted by Eddie and the gentle way his thick hands caressed you while you sobbed into him like a child who lost their cat.

Nancy's face goes from shock and softens into content, “wow, honestly didn’t think he had a caring bone in his body, he always seemed like such an asshole.”

“I mean he still is, don’t get me wrong— I don’t think he’s giving donations to the local churches or anything, but he seems a little more reserved, if you will,” you say, adding a floral embroidered set of towels for every day of the week to your basket.

“Hmm,” Nancy says with raised eyebrows, and nodding her head, a silent confirmation of approval. Always looking up to Nancy, almost as if she was your real life sister, you admired her. She was always put together, whether you were shopping during the week or at home, she was stylish in a way that said, I will run the world, and have dinner on the table at 6. Her white huarache sandals matched her high waisted pink pastel shorts and white button sleeveless blouse. Effortlessly stunning.

Moving along the aisles you and Nancy both finger through the clothing racks. Pulling out neon prints and a pair Madonna—esque white lace gloves, they probably belonged to that muppet singing idiot, Tammy Thompson. Chuckling at how fashion trends in high school were borderline ridiculous. a denim vest in your size with safety pins on each hem gave you an idea for your costume. Finding everything you needed you were ecstatic to put it all together.

The carpet squashed beneath your feet the further you got into the store. The back room held vhs’s, records, tapes, and books. The records were in a milk carton next to a shelf of adult themed books. The fading sharpie written sign reading “Adult fiction for Women 25 cents” posted bold along the top of the shelf. Nancy discreetly placed, “Thursday and the Lady” by Patricia Matthews into her basket, covering it with matching salt and pepper shakers, a crimson tinge to her rouged cheeks.

Diving into the records you flip them towards you as you lazily scan through them. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, Thriller by Michael Jackson, Abbey Road by the Beatles, Kind of Blue by Miles Davis, stuck to the back of it was a small single, Ode to Billie Joe by Bobbie Gentry. It had been years since you heard it, tucking it into your basket, Nancy clears her throat nervously, the blush evident in her cheeks, “I’m ready if you are.”

The Saturday of Halloween the salon was closed, giving you Robin and Steve plenty of time to decorate for the party tonight. Eddie was working but was scheduled to get off around 5, just in time to come home and get his secret costume on.

Orange pumpkin printed garbage bags filled with autumn foliage lined the streets of Cherry Lane. Toilet paper streamers were in Mr. Derry’s tree, a prank the seniors of Hawkins High did to him every year, including egging his front door. Vinyl witches hung from doorknobs. Plastic ghosts holding jack-o-lanterns littered lawns. Fake strings of cotton resembling cobwebs with bendy plastic spider thrown around like glitter, lay atop shrubs. Orange lights were wrapped around the trees in your front yard, flimsy ghosts made of white sheets were hung from the branches. It was a child’s Halloween paradise.

“Higher, no lower, well now you’re just doing it wrong.” Steve was in charge of Robin who was in charge of decorations. The beer pong tournament would be in the basement, every strand of Christmas lights you could find were lighting the ceiling, table set up and cups in place. The tournament bracket started with Mike and El playing against Jeff and his girlfriend Ash. The kegs would be delivered later. Buckets ready for ice sitting on the deck. Robin and Steve were still arguing over who had the better costume last year. Twisting black and orange streamers together and hanging them in the doorway to the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you’re finishing up the Jell-O shots, small clear dishes full of cherry red jello made with everclear. A bitter threat to anyone brave enough to eat them. The spinach and artichoke dip is prepped in the fridge, along with 10 packages of crescent rolls, 5 packages of hotdogs, the fruit cut and ready to be put into Steve’s horrendous Jungle Juice that you would actively be avoiding. Nancy and Jonathan were bringing pinwheels and rotel dip. Dustin and Susie are in charge of bringing candy. It’s going to be a blast.

“Be right back,” Robin and Steve call out as they leave to go get their costumes. Putting the finishing touches on your costume your hand shakes with nervousness while swiping mascara on your lashes, the pre party jitters wracking your nerves. The ring of the doorbell startles you. The obnoxious ringing should be a dead giveaway but you don’t recognize it until the door is wide open and you’re face to face with Jesus Christ himself and three nuns. Or as you knew them, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Big D.

You aren’t sure whose mouth is hanging open more. Yours or Eddie’s. Eddie is wearing a long sleeved cream colored gown, complete with a crimson sash. His usual black leather boots on his feet and a crucifix in his hand.

Eddie is the first to laugh, hands held out like he’s blessing the house before he enters it. “Aww sweetheart, you really are my #1 fan aren’t you?”

You are dressed as the most annoying on the planet, pain in the ass, voted most perverted of all of Hawkins: Eddie. When shopping with Nancy you found the vest, adding a few hand sewn patches and the best replica of Eddie’s DIO patch on the back, even shoving a pack of reds into the pocket, it looked pretty good. A twin of the aforementioned jackass. Borrowing Nancy’s cheap leather jacket when she went as Sandy from Grease last year, and putting holes into a pair of jeans and washing them as many times as you could to fray the edges, it was perfect. Complete with a horrible curly wig that you thought was a life dog upon seeing it.

“I was going for scary and scary annoying,” you shrug, “think I nailed it.”

“As hilarious and surprisingly accurate your costume is, the real winner for the party is going to be us” He gestured to him and the nuns. “figured I’d go as something that everyone says I need more of and you recognize the boys right? They’re dressed as your friends from work.”

The kegs finally show up and Eddie blesses the delivery man before he leaves. Fully throwing himself into character. Dustin and Susie are the first to arrive, dressed as Mrs. Doubtfire and Sally Ride, the first woman astronaut to go into space.

Dustin laughs so hard he cries at your costume. “Oh my God please you have to say, ‘forced conformity, it’s what’s killing the kids!’ Please Tooty Holy shit!”

Mimicking Eddie perfectly you saunter away and scream about society and how good Metallica is.

“Oh haha, so funny Tooty,” Eddie pouts, holding a beer funnel in his hands, “come on Henderson let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”

The backyard is sprayed with foamy beer as Dustin very much can not put his money where his mouth is. Gareth’s up next, chugging like a champion and doing a lap around the backyard like he won a trophy. Eddie and Jeff shotgun beer, Eddie winning by a mile. Laughing and putting his hands in a praying gesture to bless Jeff for his shortcomings.

The rest of the party goers show up, Nancy is dressed like Annie Oakley wielding a fake shotgun and a straw cowboy hat and a long brown dress with fringe hanging from the shoulders. Jonathan and his long haired friend Argyle arrive behind Nancy dressed as Sonny & Cher. Argyle had given up the fast moving life in California once a Surfer Boys pizza arrived in Hawkins. He delivered to the house so much during the nights that Corroded Coffin was practicing that he had your order prepped and ready to go by the time you had called it in. He’d show up so blitzed out of his mind that he’d forget he was at work, sharing his different strains of weed with all the Corroded Coffin boys.

Robin and Steve are in the kitchen, ladling jungle juice into empty cups. The duo dressed as Thelma and Louise, Robin wearing a black muscle shirt and sunglasses, and Steve wore a white tank top with a neckerchief. Both talking in horrible southern accents.

Eddie is standing next to Argyle in the living room both holding almost empty cups of the forbidden jungle juice, deep in conversation about something called Purple Palm Tree Delight, but knowing them, it had nothing to do with a lavender paradise. You reach around Eddie to grab a pinwheel, taking a bite when Argyle, clearly stoned, goes wide eyed leaning into Eddie his eyes still transfixed on you he whisper yells.

“Yo, I swear to God, I just saw two of you.”

“Argyle it’s me, Tooty.” You explain standing next in front of them trying not to laugh. “This is the real Eddie, I’m just dressed like him for Halloween.”

Argyle leans forward and whispers into your ear, “Yeah okay man that’s what the aliens would say before they clone us and take over.”

He leans back and takes two big steps backwards, eyes wide in a horrified daze, before disappearing down into the basement.

“Don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but that guy smokes way too much.” Eddie chuckles, downing the rest of his jungle juice and eating the fruit at the bottom of the cup.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you warn him watching with your own gut twisting as the sweet juices of strawberry slither down his chin and down the slope of his neck.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, smacking his lips, “I’m twenty six years old, I can handle my liquor.”

“Okay,” you reply, “just so you know, the fruit soaks up all the alcohol and Steve presoaks it all in everclear the night before. Last time he ate all the fruit he spent an hour in the bathroom crying about his love life or lack thereof. And besides, we have to play in the pong tournament in a half hour.”

“We?” Eddie asks, lips turned up and a slight blush to his cheeks, “I didn’t sign up for beer pong.” His dark eyes pour into yours.

Heat creeps up your neck as you reach for a Jell-O shot cracking the lid off and circling the dish with your finger before sucking it into your mouth.

“I signed you up,” you say, reaching for another Jell-O shot, “everyone had a partner but Argyle and Will, so I paired you with Argyle, and I’m with Will,” you slide your finger around the Jell-O dish and suck the cherry gelatin into your mouth, savoring the bitter bite to your tongue before you crush it between your teeth.

“You better bring your A game Munson,” you say, taking a step into him and poking him in the chest, “because I don’t lose.”

Eddie isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol that’s making him feel this way or you but suddenly he can’t stop blushing, laying the charm on thicker than peanut butter, “oh really?” he asks intrigued, “Well babe, I don’t think you know this but I’m the Forest Hills Trailer Park Pong Champion for eight summers in a row, so technically,” he’s leaning forward now, whispering low to get his point across. Your breath hitches in your throat, you can feel the tickle of his lips against your ear, his hair is brushing against your face, the faint smell of motor oil stuck in his curls, “I never lose either.”

He pulls back and your eyes lock. The heat flooding your cheeks burn, the ache in your stomach travels south and pulses with want. You can’t deny it to yourself, even dressed as Jesus Christ, Eddie is the best looking guy you’ve laid eyes on, and you were melting at the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, a smirk placed on his lips as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip to catch the remnants of the horrific fruit juice. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the Jell-O shot dish you’re holding and sets it behind him on the table. The tension could be cut with a knife, thick and heavily hanging in the space between you both. Eddie opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by El screaming for Mike to get to the backyard instead of puking in the kitchen sink. Her Alice in Wonderland wig askew on her head and holding Mike’s mad hatter hat between her hands.

Running to open the sliding door you get it open just in time for Mike to projectile vomit off the deck.

“Christ, what did he eat?” Eddie asks from behind you, “damn Mike you’re such a pussy!”

“His dumbass didn’t eat all day and when he got here he decided that Jell-O and fruit would be a good option.” El says, rubbing his back as he pukes again and again, “I don’t feel bad for you Mike!”

Wiping his mouth on his forest green jacket sleeve, he murmurs, “Babe, I’m fine, seriously, a few pieces of bread and I’ll be in tip top sh—“ puke splatters wetly against the grass again.

You grab El’s hand and squeeze, “let me know if you need anything, okay?” She nods and smiles sweetly.

“C’mon,” Eddie says behind you, “let’s go so I can kick your ass in beer pong.”

You turn your head, half facing him, “game on, Munson.”

The sharpie bracket on poster board continued moving forward thanks to Steve’s basketball knowledge. Jeff and Ash beat Mike and El, Nancy and Jonathan beat out Gareth and Big D in a very close came both opponents having one cup left. Steve and Robin were beat out in the first round by Dustin and Susie, something King Steve would never be living down. Nex on the bracket to play would be you and Will playing Argyle and Eddie. Honestly it should be a piece of cake, a walk in the park. Will wasn’t the most athletic but last year him and Jonathan got second place against you and Nancy so the odds were pretty high. One thing you were absolutely certain of was that you would not be losing to Jesus and Cher tonight.

The basement is packed with everyone besides the ill Mike and faithful El. Argyle and a pink lensed Will are in the corner smoking a fat blunt the sequin jacket he’s wearing sparkles through the haze of smoke and the catches the lights. You haven’t seen him since Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding. But he’s letting his hair grow out, finally letting the bowl cut Joyce insisted on him having all throughout middle school and high school go. Steve has Dustin in a headlock for teasing him about winning against Mr. Hawkins High basketball star of 1985.

“Ya know for once, I was actually good, like really good, Steve overthrew the last cup and it was game over once Susie got the ball. She’s strangely amazing at beer pong. Probably found the mathematical equation from the distance of the table and her elbow to the solo cups.” Robin rambles on, only stopping to get her breath. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all night. Killer costume by the way, if you can’t beat ‘em be ‘em right?”

Robin and her absolute no filter mouth, always make you laugh, linking your arm with hers, “I really like your and Steve’s take on best friends driving off a cliff together to evade police.”

“JESUS CHRIST!” someone yells from upstairs.

Not missing a beat, Eddie can be heard returning the exclamation. “You rang?”

Rolling your eyes and looking his way, you laugh when you see him, holding up his arms in praise.

Robin’s voice bringing you back to the conversation, “Epic right? Steve thought we could be conjoined twins but then decided against it when he figured there was a small chance he could possibly get lucky tonight when that black haired girl at his job kept hinting that she wanted a date with him.”

“What!” you shout, “He never told me this!”

Robin rolls her eyes and takes another drink from her too foamy beer, “he’s nervous, I think he really likes her but doesn’t wanna fuck it up like he does everything else.”

Steve deserved to be happy and to have someone love him. He was always making sure everyone else was okay, you smile at the thought of him with a girlfriend.

“So,” Robin presses, wiggling her eyebrows, “Eddie looks good tonight,” a wicked smile dances wildly on her lips.

“I’m not at all buzzed enough to have this conversation,” you say, taking a peak at Eddie through your eyelashes, he was laughing loudly at something Steve had said, head thrown back, exposing his neck.

Will joins your side, reeking of weed and heavy musk cologne. “Tooty!” He squeals, wrapping you into a tight hug, “the house looks so fucking good I can’t believe it, also I heard that you’re living with Eddie? I’m going to need all the details!”

“It’s so good to see you, look at your hair!” You say holding his arms. Will threads a hand through his hair and laughs a little.

“Thanks, it’s new but it’s kinda growing on me, now, spill it. Tell me everything.”

“Next game!” Nancy announces, advancing her and Jonathan to the next bracket. “Argyle/ Eddie vs Tooty/ Will.”

Will grabs your hand and drags you to the beer pong table, “after?” He asks and you nod your head.

Eddie and Argyle are standing on one end, you and Will on the other. The cups are arranged into a triangle and filled with the warming pitcher of keg beer.

“You ready to go down groveling, sweetheart?” Eddie sings from across the table, eyes squinting when he leans on the edge of the table smiling at you.

Your stomach flutters, taking a long swig of Will’s jungle juice, staring Eddie down as you gulp the vile liquor and fruit punch combo down, “You ready to get your ass kicked, Munson?”

“Woo! That’s balls back ba-by,” you sneer, hooting and hollering as Eddie begrudgingly tosses the balls back your way. It was almost as if Argyle and Will weren’t even there, this game was between you and Eddie. You were definitely buzzed, between the warm beer and the Jell-O shots you had eaten you were feeling good.

When you miss the first cup, Eddie makes devil horns at you and howls at the moon like an idiot. You sink the next cup, earning a high-five from Will, and a sly grin from Eddie as he removes the cup and chugs the warm beer. He’s secretly excited that you’re so happy, letting loose, in your element, surrounded by your loving friends. You glowing with a sense of freedom. In that moment when your eyes caught his, he knew he was in trouble, you were wrapped around his finger and he didn’t think of hardly anything else, but you, your beautiful smile, the way your hair caught each light you were under. He was in deep, and for right now, he was perfectly and utterly okay with that.

It’s Argyle’s turn and he surprisingly sinks both cups, being awarded with balls back, as you and Will each take a cup and drink the suds down. Trying to distract him, you whip off your Eddie- esque wig and toss it towards Eddie, shaking your hair out like a wild woman.

Unphased by your antics he does it again and you groan. Four in a row? This guy was half asleep the entire game and all of a sudden he’s an athlete? They only have 1 cup left. Tension rises and the room goes to silence at Steve’s request. Argyle sinks it. Eddie erupts into cheers grabbing Argyle by the shoulders and jumping up and down.

“Redemption attempt!” Steve shouts, giving Will the ball. Will takes it with nervous fingers, blowing the ball to dry it slightly as you chug the last cup. He only has two cups to make. Will tosses the ball and the room goes silent, it feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s the alcohol. The ball soars through the air, bouncing against the rim of the cup lapping up the foamy beer, before it falls off and teeters off onto the table.

Argyle raises both hands in the air, “VICTORY!” the room erupts with cheers. Will apologizes profusely but you hug him tight, telling him you were happy he was your partner.

“Next game is Jonathan/Nancy vs Jeff/ Ash starting in 20 mins!” Steve hollers. The basement clears out as people go upstairs to use the bathroom and refill their drinks.

You expect Eddie to be gloating, cocky beyond belief. But he’s the opposite, coming up to you slowly, head bowed, upper teeth practically biting his lower lip in half.

“Good game sweetheart,” he says barely above a whisper, “not gonna lie, I really thought you guys were gonna win.”

Holding your chin high, face only inches from his, the brown pools of colored whiskey stare into your eyes. Placing a hand on his chest, the alcohol gives you enough of a push to cross the line. The thin gauzy material of the gown he’s wearing is sticky with sweat and warm from the heat radiating from his body. “Told myself I wouldn’t lose to Cher and Jesus tonight.”

Eddie let’s out a throaty laugh, “can’t believe he pulled that off, he didn’t make a cup all game.”

“Guess you get to continue wearing that tarnished crown, speaking of wardrobe… where the hell did you get this outfit?”

“You know that church across from the police station?”

“The one with the Jesus statue inside?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and gives you a knowing glance, waiting for you to catch on.

“No way! Eddie! You broke into a church and stole an outfit off of a statue?”

“Amen,” Eddie says roaring with laughter, “ahh c’mon you can’t tell me it wasn’t a genius idea.”

Rolling your eyes, “I wouldn’t exactly call it genius, but funny? Yes.”

He laughs again, “not everyday I get a compliment from myself,” he says eyeing your costume, “you do make a pretty cute Eddie Munson if I say so myself.” he wasn’t even thinking anything of it, just blurted it right out.

Flirting came easy to him almost as a second nature, he was never nervous around women, usually finding the game of sex not just something he was good at but conquered with ease. But this, here, with you? Was a slippery slope. A different game for him entirely. He was a pawn amongst you and you were the queen, striking down whoever came near, holding all the power.

Your cheeks heat from his compliment, blood rushing through your body and warming your skin, he holds your hand to your chest, stroking your fingers with his thumbs.

A thousand bolts of lightening ignite you, he smells like smoke, ashy and burning, the cheap keg beer on his breath as he smiles softly at you.

“Tooty!” Steve calls from the top step, clinging onto it for dear life, “are you down there?!”

You’re the first one to break away, pulling your hand from his grasp, threading them together at the last minute, finger tips clinging to each other like velcro. The flames between you both extinguished fast, no oxygen left in the room to keep it going.

Getting to the bottom step and turning, you give him one last glance and a small smile, before trotting up the stairs to Steve.

Eddie opens the patio door to find Gareth and Big D blowing smoke into the sky and talking about the best DIO song.

“Shit man, where have you been? Didn’t your game end like 15 minutes ago?”

Eddie thinks of a lie quick, “Taking a piss why you wanna watch?”

“That’s weird,” Big D questions, “cause Gareth just came out of the bathroom unless there’s a magic bathroom you haven’t told us about.”

��What are you guardian of the toilet?” Eddie says slotting a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his zippo open.

“I mean he’s got a point,” Gareth interjects, “where have you been tonight, turning water into wine? Or are you healing the blind?”

“Cool it, Whoopi,” Eddie bites, “the fuck does it matter where I was or wasn’t?”

“You’ve changed dude. Used to be a ladies man, different chick every night. Smoking and drinking all night watching the sunrise. Fuck man you were hell on wheels. Then all of a sudden you move in here and you’re acting like the Pope, fixing up her car off the clock, bringing her to and from work, you’re like her fucking babysitter.” Gareth exclaims.

“Fuck off man, she’s Eyeball’s sister, and I’m just looking out for her.” Eddie grits through his teeth.

“Or,” Big D suggests, “you like her, I mean you still haven’t even told us about the twins— and you stare at her like she’s about to combust at any moment.”

“Yeah and what do you two know about anything?” Eddie spits.

“Clearly not shit, but you’re all fucking riled up about a girl you don’t like.” Gareth flicks his cigarette and goes inside, Big D following.

The door opens again, “listen man, I’m not in the mood for your stupid fucking advice.” Eddie groans, turning to see Steve standing at the door, an empty pitcher in his hand. “Shit, sorry, thought you were Gareth.”

“Nope kept my habit at home,” Steve says with a chuckle, setting the pitcher on the edge of the deck, “nice party, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “ya know when Tooty first told me that her and Nancy threw a party every year I didn’t believe it, turns out I was wrong about her, seems to be a theme of mine lately.”

“She doesn’t let a lot of people in, but once you’re here, it means she trusts you, respects you.” Steve explains.

Eddie smiles softly, ashing his cigarette.

“She cares about you, ya know? She might not want to admit it— may even be scared to admit it to herself, but she likes you.”

Eddie gives him a look. Sure you were nicer to him, not threatening to kick him out anymore. You had let the band practice in the garage, even staying out there to hear them play. But that didn’t mean anything did it?

“How many times do you think she’s cut my hair?” Steve inquires, leaning next to the railing on the deck beside Eddie.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says honestly, “a dozen?”

Steve chuckles, “Never, not once, never even offered. You think she made elaborate meals for Nancy when they lived together? Wrong— she barely touched the stove. You move in and she’s changed, for the better. It’s like she’s coming back to life, and the only common thing in that equation, is you.”

Eddie mulls this over, could Steve be right? “I don’t know man.”

“I may not be Mr. Relationship but I do know Tooty, and you’ve softened her edges. Tamed that frightful girl we all love and adore. She’s got walls up, keeping people out, but not around you, not anymore.”

Eddie hangs his head, his heart bursting with sad euphoric bliss. He couldn’t go about this like any other conquest. And with you it would never be how it was with the other women. Faceless broads in mini skirts, praising him, doing whatever he wanted them to. He never saw you in that way. Holding you on a pedestal about the rest. He hadn’t been in a relationship in years. One too many times of being cheated on was enough for him. But you were hurt too, more so than he was. He was still licking his wounds with anything willing and able. You? You were a shell of yourself. He couldn’t act on this like he would with anyone else. He cared about you too damn much to make you feel like you couldn’t trust him again.

“And I know you care about her. Everytime I look at you you’re staring at her like a sad little puppy.”

Eddie looks up then, looking at Steve like he held all the answers to life’s questions. He turns and leans against the deck, elbows on the railing just how Steve was facing the house.

“Yeah, you’re right, I do care about her, more than anything. So what do I do?” He asks Steve.

Steve shrugs, letting out a loud sigh, “keep doing what you’re doing, she knows you care about her, just don’t disappear on her.”

Eddie turns his head from Steve and catches sight of you through the patio doors. He can see you taking a Jell-O shot with El, Robin and Nancy. A sleeping lump of clothes on the kitchen table with black hair must be Mike. You light up the room as you laugh when Robin makes a repulsive expression after taking her Jell-O shot. He can’t hear your full laugh, it’s faint through the glass. But, he doesn’t need to hear it to know the sound—having heard it more and more the last few weeks, the way you throw your head back when something is really funny, sometimes covering your mouth. He’s certain he’s never seen anyone more angelic in his life. Like you have sucked all the air from the room, even dressed in a sheer mockery of him, you’re radiating a glow that makes his heart swell. He has never cared about anyone the way that he does for you.

Seeing him through the doors standing next to Steve, he has a smirk on his face. A sudden rush of shyness creeps up your neck and you turn away from him, but you reciprocate his actions, smiling at him. A small gesture that melts him on the spot.

Eyes trained on you but still talking to Steve, Eddie beams, “I’m not going anywhere.”

A/n: see you in volume vii

Hope you all enjoyed this. There were some little hidden Easter eggs in this chapter, go to my askbox if you found them 💕

readmore eat my ass or this line you decide, whore.

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#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie x y/n #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson smut

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creepycranberry · 2 months

Text

Same people, Different circumstances

Eddie Munson x mom reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, not proofread

You sat in the dark, covering your ears in search for some reprieve from the wailing. You had been crying too, for hours it had been like this.

You felt guilty for just letting her cry but you were so exhausted. She had a fever, she spat out whatever medicine you tried to give her, you had the noise machine on, you shushed and hummed until your throat was dry but nothing worked.

She wouldn’t eat or sleep or stop crying and it was becoming too much for you alone.

You didn’t understand moments like this. You had done all of this alone. You found out you were pregnant in a rest stop bathroom alone, you had gone to doctors appointments alone, sat in the bathroom puking by yourself, you set up the nursery alone, you drove yourself to the hospital and gave birth alone, every single step of the way you’ve done this completely alone.

Aside from your landlord, an old Cuban lady who spoke with a thick accent and watched Winnie while you went to work.

But she was away visiting family this week, so you were utterly and completely alone.

You hadn’t meant to call him, you meant to call your upstairs neighbor to see if they had a thermometer because yours had crapped out when you needed it most. But instead when the ringing stopped it was his voice.

“Hello?” A deep groggy voice mumbles into the phone and you hiccup the sob you had been working on keeping down so your neighbor wouldn’t be too concerned, “hello?” He asked again, much more awake this time.

“Eddie I didn’t mean- I called the wrong number, just go back to sleep I didn’t mean-“

“Is everything alright sweetheart?”

He shouldn’t be so sweet to you.

Sure you ended things on good terms but this wasn’t anything he should be worried about.

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine.”

“Why are you crying?” He asks softly and you bite your lip to keep from crying more.

“She won’t take her medicine, and she won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do.”

“Who? Teddy?” He asks, referring to the tabby cat that was likely hiding under your bed.

“No- no. Um, Winnie, my kid. She has a fever and I don’t have a thermometer and she won’t take her medicine and I called you accidentally.”

There’s rustling over the phone and the muffled sound of a girls voice. Dammit.

“Eddie if you’re busy-“

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be over soon,” the jingling sound of his belt rings over the phone, “you need me to grab anything from the store or do you want me to just come right over or..?”

“Eddie really you don’t have to-“

“I’ll grab some take out too, be there in a minute.” And then the phone clicks off.

You go back into the nursery where a still wailing Winnie is sat up in the middle of her crib, covered in puke.

You feel guilty for stepping out to make the call and you have to work to keep yourself calm as you go to the crib to pick her up, shushing and apologizing as you head towards the bathroom.

You go through the motions of giving her a bath despite her fussing.

Your thoughts drift to your embarrassment over calling Eddie. You didn’t even know how it happened, maybe you still had him on speed dial or something?

And explaining to him that you called him over your kid who he’s never met or heard of is in your top ten most awkward moments.

But for right now you need to focus on your daughter.

You wash the puke out of her hair and the little rolls of fat on her legs and the crack of her neck and you try to softly shush her.

Just as you’re drying her off there’s a knock at the front door. You essentially swaddle her in her towel as you go to get the front door.

Eddie is standing there with take out bags in one hand and a handful of random things in the other.

“Hey.” You haven’t seen him in about a year. You both promised to keep in touch but life got in the way.

“Hi.” He smiles sweetly and moves further into the apartment. He sets down the stuff in his hands and Winnie momentarily quiets down when she notices a new presence in the room, “hi Winnie,” Eddie coos, hand moving to smooth down her wet hair, “I’m Eddie.”

“You really didn’t have to come over here, Eddie. I meant to call my neighbor but I guess I forgot to take you off of the speed dial on my landline and-“

“Don’t worry about it. I told you I’m always here to help and I meant it.” He assures you, reaching out to the baby to see if she’d rather go to him, which to your surprise she does, “hey girlie.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thermometer. He takes her temp and grimaces.

“I know you just sounded busy.” You shrug, heading over to the laundry basket on the couch to grab a onesie for her. You pluck a diaper off of the coffee table and much to Winnie’s chagrin you take her away from Eddie to change her diaper and dress her.

“I really wasn’t.”

“I’m not sure your date would agree.” You comment, velcroing the diaper closed.

“I didn’t realize you could hear her.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

You just shrug.

“Can you just hold her for a second while I change the sheets in her crib?”

Eddie nods, reaching out for the baby who has stopped wailing but is still fairly fussy.

You busy yourself with her sheets, grabbing the extras from her drawer and taking off the soiled ones. You try and breathe and not dwell on the oddity of the situation.

When you make it back out to the living room Eddie is attempting to feed Winnie a cracker.

“She’s too small for that, Eds.” You inform him and he jumps, holding the cracker away from the baby and taking a bite for himself to hide what he was doing.

“I-I know I was just-“

“Feeding her a cracker?” You smile and he begrudgingly nods.

“She just seems hungry.” He shrugs.

“She probably is but she won’t take a bottle. I’ve been trying on and off for hours.”

You lean your head onto your hands and close your eyes.

“Well how about you eat something and I’ll see if she’ll take a bottle from me?” Eddie suggests, propping the baby on his hip and heading for the bag of takeout on the coffee table.

“Good luck with that.” You mumble, rubbing your face to wake yourself up. Eddie heads for the pantry and pulls out the baby formula and a bottle. He makes a bottle with Winnie on his hip, humming a Bowie song to her as he shakes her bottle, “since when do you know how to make a bottle?”

“Steve and his girl had a baby a couple months ago, I’ll babysit every now and then when he needs me to.” Eddie shrugs, offering the bottle to Winnie who gives him and dirty look and shoves the bottle away, “well you gotta tell me what you want, girlie.” He tells her, and then the pouting starts. Her little bottom lip juts out and she looks at him like he just cut off her teddy bears head and he panics, holding her close and begging her not to cry, “come on, Winnie, don’t cry. If you cry your mom won’t ever let me come back and then I’ll cry and cry and cr-“

He smacks his head on the cabinet he opened but forgot to close and curses.

Winnie giggles and reaches up to where he hit his head and she pats it, a little harshly. Eddie frowns at her and then lightly pats her back on the forehead.

She laughs again and you smile, relieved after not hearing the sound for an entire day.

“You little sadist.” Eddie grumbles and walks her over to the couch, bottle still in hand. This time when he offers it to her she takes it, leaning onto his arm a bit more.

Eddie looks at you with a grin that never fails to make your stomach flip and you smile back.

“Your turn.” He nods to the take out and you groan.

“You didn’t need to bring food Eddie, the fact that you came here at all is enough.” You try and convince him but he isn’t having it.

“Well I’ve gotta make sure you eat too.” He shrugs and you sigh, opening the bag to find the logo of a Chinese place y’all used to order from all the time.

You frown slightly and Eddie panics a little, “did I get your order wrong? I could have sworn-“

“No. You got it exactly right.” You assure him, a tight smile gracing you features and Eddie shakes his head in confusion, setting Winnie’s bottle on the table and burping her.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just- it’s weird I guess.” You shrug, opening the takeout container and a plastic fork.

“What do you mean?”

“Just us. It’s just- we haven’t spoken in a year, I have a kid you found out about an hour ago and yet the second I call you you’re here, with food you know I love, my exact order, and you’re feeding and burping my baby and-“ and it should have been like this all along.

Eddies quiet for a moment, like he heard what you almost said and is trying to figure out how to react, “I mean circumstances are different but we’re still us. This is how things were before… us. If you need me I’m here and if I had called you before this you would have been there as well.” A pause, “right?”

“Of course.”

“So how did she happen by the way?” Eddie asks, changing the subject.

“Well you see, when a man and woman meet and have a few too many drinks almost every time they’re together-“

“Okay, okay, I get the picture.” Eddie grimaces and you lightly giggle, “is he around?”

“Not really. I told him and he asked me if I wanted him there and he was really practically a stranger and I asked if he wanted to be there and he answered honestly. And I told him that was fine. I don’t expect anything from him, he sends money every now and then but other than that she’s never met him.” You explain, lightly combing the babies hair with your fingers.

“Shitbag.” Eddie mumbles.

“He knew he wouldn’t be much of a father and he was honest about it. Would rather that than he feel obligated to stick around and make her life hell.” You shrug and Eddie nods.

“So you’ve done all of this alone?” Eddie asks and you nod.

“Pretty much.”

“That is so wildly unfair.”

You raise your eyebrows, a grin growing on your lips despite yourself, “It's nice to hear someone else say it.”

Eddie nods, standing up and cradling Winnie, bouncing her in his arms and pacing in an effort to get her to sleep.

“I really hoped she was yours at first.” You confess and Eddie's eyes widen, “don’t get too freaked out, I just knew that if she was yours I wouldn’t have to do it alone. And that maybe she could have some kind of dad figure.”

“That makes sense. We could pretend she was mine.” He smiles and you shake your head.

“Whatever, Munson.”

“No, I’m serious. It doesn’t have to be a big thing I’m just saying that like, if you need me to take her for a weekend I could take her for a weekend. And I could help when she starts school or when she’s sick. I can teach her to ride a bike and I can scare her first boyfriend and beat his ass if he hurts her and I could teach her how to check her oil and change her tires. And when she gets caught drinking I can pretend to be disappointed and help give her a really stern talking to.”

You laugh and nod, “maybe. I’m gonna let you think about what that kind of commitment would entail first though.”

Eddie smiles and looks down at a now sleeping Winnie, “she looks just like you.” You nod, “she’s got my eyes though.” He quips and you shake your head.

“Oh whatever.”

Eddie grins and you have to try your best not to feel that familiar ache in your bones.

He goes to the nursery and leaves you in the living room by yourself with your food. After a moment you hear the sound of a noise machine and the click of a door closing and then he’s back.

“You made that look so easy.” You grumble as he sits next to you.

“I’ve just got that fatherly touch, yknow?” You laugh again and he smiles. Not a grin, not a cheeky, mischievous smile. a content, comfortable smile that warms you in a way you’ve longed for since you broke up, “how’ve you been?”

You shrug, “I’ve been. If I keep moving I don’t have to think about how I am.”

“Are you happy?” Eddie asks, moving to face you so his knee is touching yours.

“Sometimes,” you shrug, “every now and then it gets stressful but a good day is a really good day.” Eddie nods, “what about you?”

He gets really quiet, “I’m not happy.”

Your face falls and you instinctively start repeatedly smoothing his hair behind his ear in the way you know comforts him, “what’s up, hon?”

“I just don’t have much anymore I guess.” He shrugs, “I don’t have much purpose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. I work and I try to meet new people but I just don’t feel like it’s worth it.” He explains.

“Why not?”

He’s quiet again, mulling over whether or not to give an honest answer, “because none of them are you.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t- don’t think too much about it, like don’t read into it too much I just- you’re fulfilling for me. You held on and you helped and you gave me this sense of purpose that I haven’t really been able to get since…”

You stay quiet and wait for him to finish what he was saying but he doesn’t.

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? I mean, just in case Winnie wakes up and would rather have you get her than me?”

Eddie just about melts. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and nods.

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Winnie.”

————————

Pt 2

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rupalichadha · 1 year

Text

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purplelupins · 1 year

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Salvador

|Better Call Saul|

Part I Part II

Lalo Salamanca/Fem!reader

Word count: 16k

Summery: Reader just wanted a fresh start, but when she starts working in a care home, it seemed that she bit off more than she could chew when she meets a member of her clients family.

Warnings: slow burn, age gap, manipulation, intimidation, violence (see note), smut (p in v), fingering, degradation and praise, edging, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready), papi kink, Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings, I’m not an electrician or doctor

MINORS DNI I AM NOT GOING TO ASK AGAIN

Notes: this part contains detailed violence (domestic violence, gun shots, talking about death), and smut.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lalo sat in his car watching that laundry facility like it was a ticking time bomb. Indeed it was his time bomb and he would be there when it went off. It was only a matter of time before he confirmed his theory. He knew that crisp Mr. Fring was hiding something fantastical behind his trustworthy, efficient methods. And when that moment came, and the bomb exploded…Lalo would bask in the heat of its flames on his cheeks-

The obnoxious ringing of his phone snapped his focus in half. The little screen sat illuminated as it continued on its insistent noise. Lalo stared at it, and was about yo snap it shut, and fling it into the back seat until he saw the number; his eye twitched.

He knew exactly who it was.

They hadn’t called him during watch hours for months.

The older man calmly answered it, and held it to his ear, and waited.

It wasn’t a full minute that had passed when Lalo hung up the phone, and was peeling out of his watchpoint fast enough to leave two black tire marks.

There was no doubt that he could have simply told his uncle’s men to deal with it; to dismiss whatever was transpiring and move on, not caring if you were alright or what you were going through.

Then he could have moved on with monitoring the facility.

Easy.

But there was something that ignited inside Lalo when his tio’s guy recounted what had happened. He knew he shouldn’t give a rats ass about going there himself- that was why he had those men there. Lalo could feel that awareness eat at him as he sped through the city, but he crushed it down. There were very few thoughts in his head as he drove, and questioning why he was doing what he was doing, and psychoanalyzing himself was not one of them. He never questioned himself, not really; he just…did.

Lalo pulled in outside your shitty building, and didn’t wait for the men to speak as they joined him on the sidewalk. He took a look up at your window, and felt his left hand twitch when he saw the dim light.

“No entres hasta que yo te lo diga, ¿entendido?” He rumbled, not taking his eyes off the window as he turned and began striding up to the building. The men stayed behind, just as he said. Lalo reached into the back of his jeans with one hand and into his pock with the other, pulling out his pistol and silencer. The metal pieces rolled together easily in his hands; just as seamlessly as he hid his gun, and smiled charmingly at an old lady as she held the door open for him as she took her little dog out for a pee. It was so dark she didn’t see how dead his eyes were. How his soul was leaving them with each passing second.

Lalo began planning his next few moves depending on what was occurring inside your apartment. Were you a plant from another cartel and this was your handler? Were you law enforcement undercover? The older man simultaneously thought over each possibility.

He took the flight of stairs up to your floor, and quieted his footsteps as soon as his eyes fell upon your door. Lalo had stood there once before weeks ago, gun in hand just as it was now…but he had left after just a moment. Killing you wasn’t worth it.

Once he was outside your apartment, he leaned in, and listened.

There was a raised voice inside. An angry one at that too. And a cry.

Lalo didn’t dwell on what it was saying or who it might be; he raised his foot and kicked right next to the lock on the door. It burst open. The older man took three strides inside as the door bounced off the wall as he surveyed and took in the scene before him. His eyes flicked from detail to detail rapidly, piecing everything together in seconds.

The lamp you used was kicked over and partially broken- only the lightbulb was intact, and partially at that. In the low light, he could still see that you were curled up against a wall; broken objects, scuff marks and blood around you and behind you. You were sobbing…shaking. Your hands were over head, arms in front of your knees…bruised and bloody.

There was indeed a man there, just as Hector’s men had said. He was standing over you with his back to the door, words spewing from his mouth at you. His shadow ate your little form up.

The man had begun to turn towards Lalo as he walked into the apartment, but his fate was sealed as soon as Lalo saw his bloody knuckles.

Your blood.

Lalo didn’t stop to ask any questions or make a snark comment before he emptied his gun’s clip into the man’s body. The bullets shredded his flesh, spattering blood as the metal existed his back. Lalo didn’t lower his gun until the man began to crumble to the floor, and he watched despondently as blood started pooling around him. It began to fill each little crack and groove in the wooden floor.

There was a beat of silence following the last shot before Lalo pulled his phone from his pocket.

It only rang once.

“Hecho.” He muttered, then hung up.

Then as he slipped his phone back into his pocket…he saw you.

Actually saw you.

Lalo let his gaze wander over your shaking form. You resembled more of a stray animal than a young woman covered in blood. Your knuckles were white from how tightly your were holding your head. He watched the man’s blood that had spattered onto you mix with your own from the wounds he had inflicted. Then, once the noise faded away, and there was no movement, you began to unfurl. Your arms came down jerkily, and you tentatively rose your head up to see what had happened; you eyes were wide, and puffy. Cheeks flushed against your blanched skin.

His hand twitched.

Your dazed eyes slowly refocused. It took a moment before you followed the edge of the pool of blood to the body now laying on the floor; limp and cold. Lalo could visibly see the scene in front of you settle in your mind while you unclamped your legs from your chest. You slowly got to your knees, eyes still trained on the body, and sat there. The older man didn’t move an inch as he watched you; he was fascinated. He realized this must have been your first time seeing a dead body.

He felt honoured.

You didn’t cry, or scream, or cower in fear. You just looked.

It was as if you were in a trance as you finally rose to your feet; your eyes void of any emotion, mouth in a plain line. Indifferent. Analytical.

Lalo might have been a man of many words, but as you took a few difficult steps towards the body, the older man chose to observe you silently.

For the first time since your door had been slammed in your face that evening, your eyes weren’t hazy. You walked to the edge of the pool of blood, and stared down at the body. He looked so human…so much less of a devil than he had when he was alive. This man who had been nothing but a living nightmare for you was…gone. In a matter of three seconds, he was completely gone.

You didn’t know how he had found you… or why. You tried to remember the moment you had first seen him, but he had some so much damage to you over your relationship that you couldn’t recall your first date. Couldn’t recall a lot in fact.

You took another step forward and stood in the blood of your ex-boyfriend. Then as the warm liquid slipped between your toes, something in you completely snapped. Broke.

You were flooded with the first memory you had of blood. You had scraped you knee and someone kissed it better…told you it would be alright and to keep playing. You remembered how smiling used to be so easy and not an invitation for people to think you were soft or easy. You remembered that girl who grew up and saw the best in people. Who had her likes and dislikes and didn’t base her personality on whatever someone wanted to see. You remembered her. And you remembered how he erased her. How he told her that he would keep her safe, but he betrayed that trust at every turn with a perfect lie or justification to draw her back in.

The blood surrounded your feet. Your eyes slowly sharpened, and without another thought, you rose your leg up and delivered a form kick to your ex’s limp side, shoving him a foot across the floor.

He looked so small now…so insignificant…and you felt the fear you had of him melt away, and hate take its place. Resentment, frustration, sadness…it all flooded in.

So you kicked him again.

You still hadn’t fully registered Lalo’s presence, and he was content with staying a part of the background as you began to show him this hidden part of you. Vicious. Vindictive. The parts of him that only the very unlucky saw- it was spectacular to see them mirrored back to him.

You were ruthless.

You kicked the body again, and again and again until he was shoved a few feet from where he had fallen, and there was a streak of blood in his wake. Tears began to stream down your cheeks and your skin felt as if it was burning. It was overwhelming as you beat him with every bit of energy you had left.

A pressure began to build in your chest, and you half wondered if you were going to throw up or pass out from how much you were feeling all at once, but then words formed on your tongue and you let them out.

“You SON OF A BITCH, YOU FUCKING RUINED ME.” Your broken cry filled the apartment, and Lalo’s eye twitched slightly at your raised voice. You were letting go. You were in a frenzy; overtaken by everything you never let yourself say or feel, “I don’t even know WHO THE FUCK I AM ANYMORE! YOU’RE BETTER DEAD YOU ROTTING FUCKER-“ you kicked and stomped and kicked again and again, even when your feet hurt. A snap sounded through the apartment but you were too far gone to realize it was his ribs snapping and caving in.

Blind rage had overtaken you. You couldn’t think as you continued your assault.

You didn’t see Lalo move- too focused on the body under you to notice him until a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from the body- bloody footprints on the floor from where you staggered back.

“Okay, I think you got him.” Lalo laughed as he hauled you away.

But your adrenaline was still raging through in you. Regardless of his thick arms locked around you, you started squirming in his hold. Anger fuelled you and you fought to try and get back to the body. Needing to hurt him as much as he hurt you, but Lalo secured his arms around you better, and hoisted you away from your living room and into your small kitchen.

But still, you couldn’t think. All you knew was that someone was stopping you from getting back at the person who had destroyed you. It didn’t matter that it was Lalo Salamanca who was doing it, you didn’t even know it was him; he was just arms and a voice and you needed him to let you go.

Without thinking, you spun in his tight hold and hit him.

A smack right on his cheek.

Then all at once, you saw him.

The sting on the palm of your hand seemed to wake you up, and as Lalo dropped his arms to his sides, you saw exactly who had fired that gun…who had picked you up…who you had hit.

His grey curl hung over his forehead, and his mouth sat in a line under his neat moustache.

You might have been horribly startled by his stony face…but it was his eyes that made you keep from asking for forgiveness.

They were black, and they glittered in the low light.

But they weren’t furious.

There was a moment of silence that stretched for far longer that you knew how to measure; he was processing you. You and the smack.

“Again.”

You blinked, having not been sure if you had heard him correctly or if he had even spoken or if you had imagined it all. And evidently you weren’t functioning fast enough for Lalo’s liking.

The older man broke into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he stared you down, “Okay, how about I put on his shirt and we play pretend-“

Smack.

You hit him again.

He smiled a little wider, “There she goes c’mon.” He goaded you.

So you did.

Smack.

Then it was like a dam broke. You started beating on him. You jabbed and punched and shoved and slapped his chest, and arms, and stomach. You hit him like your life depended on it. You hit him until your arms hurt more than your heart.

And the entire time, he didn’t move an inch; the man was sturdy enough that you weren’t doing any real damage to him. Even when four men he had called walked into the apartment and began breaking the body down, he didn’t say a word. He shot them a look that was more terrifying than a loaded gun to the balls, but that was it. He let you have your moment. And it was likely for the best- watching a man get sawed into pieces and bagged up was not an easy sight to behold.

It was only when he decided the men were taking too long that he slowly retrieved his gun from the back of his jeans and calmly pointed it at them without taking his eyes off you. They scampered out within minutes; just a drying puddle of blood left behind.

You didn’t even know how you were still moving your arms anymore. It was pure adrenaline fuelling you. Slowly your mind began to go hazy and dim…the extreme emotions slowly leaving you.

Then, you felt your arms stop responding as your wrists were restrained. You blinked and looked up from where you had been targeting, and were met with those onyx eyes.

They were locked on you- following your every twitch and move.

“Enough.”

His voice was a rumble that made your head light.

There was no smile on Lalo’s face, no mirth. He was focused and you couldn’t bring yourself to even breathe properly lest it make you move too much. A drop of dread fell from the base of your skull down to your toes and settled into the soles of your feet. You felt cold.

Then, the older man took a single step forward that made you stumble a little but you only looked away from him for a moment as you recovered. He took another, propelling you with him as he backed you against the wall between your livingroom and your kitchen. Your skin suddenly felt far too warm, and it tingled like pins and needles.

Lalo weighed your soul; his heavy gaze had you in shackles and you were helpless to try and get away from it. You had yet to see this amount of intensity from the man, and you were certain that he was preparing to end you. That he would take that pistol back out and fire a new hole into your head.

But the longer you stood there, the calmer you got- much to your surprise. You were still on edge, but your breathing came easier, and you let your gaze flick between his eyes, to the lines on his face, to his brows, his moustache, and that grey streak. Lalo pressed against you and the wall dug into your back but still you didn’t move. You let him invade your space and breathe your air, in fact you almost found yourself drawing him a little closer; pulling the wrists he held towards yourself. And to your surprise, you felt him push back, making your chest tight with how much pressure was on it with his weight. You could feel his breathing against you; every inhale and exhale.

His scent intoxicated you, as did his warmth. It made you forget how afraid you were, and lulled you. You could feel your heart just about beat out of your chest. However despite your sense of calm, you wouldn’t help but feel as if he was just a very cunning predatory making sure his prey wasn’t afraid before he pounced; making sure the meat wasn’t spoiled.

But then, a charming smile took over his face, and just like that, it was as if nothing had happened.

“Look what a mess you are! Let’s get you all cleaned, eh?” He chirped and stepped away from you.

You had jumped when he spoke, and felt yourself cool down almost instantly. Perhaps it was something akin to Stockholm syndrome but you felt yourself missing his chest crushing yours.

“Remind me to not get on your bad side,” he said in a jaunty laugh, “Man, you sure know how to knock a guy around. Damn.” Lalo touched his chest where you had been hitting, but didn’t stop smiling. His hands left you, and he began navigating through your apartment easily, like he had been there before. The older man hummed an old tune as he entered your washroom, and began looking through the cupboards; you were about to wonder what he was doing as your brain played catch-up, but you remembered him saying he was going to clean you up…whatever that meant.

Everything still felt so surreal to you. You stared down at your hands, and the flecks of blood there, wondering if any of it had even happened or if you were having a dream. It wasn’t until you blinked a few times and focused on breathing that you remembered that you were still in your less then modest sleep clothes. You looked around for something to cover yourself a little better, but you missed your opportunity when Lalo came striding back to you, perfectly comfortable in the space like it was a Sunday afternoon in his own home.

“Okaay…” he said to himself as he put down the supplies he had grabbed. Just as you looked at the materials, he wordlessly hoisted you up onto your kitchen counter. You gasped a little, but he seemed unbothered as he ignored your squirming and stood between your knees. You watched his large hand grab a wetted cloth and start wiping away at your skin; you were covered in blood and sweat. The older man cleaned you carefully and meticulously; he tutted the split skin and the harsh bruises forming, shaking his head at particularly bad ones. He gave you a scolding look when you nervously held your shirt down when he tried to lift it to inspect your ribs- tilting his head and pursing his mouth as if to chastise you.

So you let him. He was gentlemanly enough to only raise it to look at your torso…making sure nothing was broken. Lucky for you, nothing was. Bruised, yes, but not broken. Regardless of your luck, you forced yourself to ignore how warm his calloused hands were when they pressed down on your ribs. Oddly gentle. Comforting.

Once he deemed you clean enough, Lalo began dragging cotton pads soaked in peroxide over your cuts; he shushed you when the chemical stung too much.

Everything seemed so calm. There was no screaming, no sirens or things being thrown. It was late…and it was quiet. It was just you and him in your small kitchen; it was as if he had blocked out what you had done just a half hour earlier- beating and shoving at him like he was a punching bag.

You found yourself watching him carefully, half expecting him to break the act and snap your ankle as he inspected it, or spit in your face and hold a gun to your temple. But he didn’t even show a slight sign of ill intent. He just continued to bandage you.

There was no doubt in you that you were in deep debt to the Salamancas now. And while you were fairly naive to it, you knew that such a thing was practically a death sentence. Lalo had killed for you whether you wanted him to or not. He had saved you. There was no coming back from that.

Regardless of the weight settling on your shoulders, there was a calmness you felt as his warmth radiated into you from standing so close to you. You could feel his breath on your skin and all you could smell was him; smoke and some kind of spice, and a little tequila or whiskey. It was in his clothes and his skin. Everywhere. His touch was like a brand- scorching your skin.

There was a gash on your arm from where your ex had come at you with a knife; Lalo cleaned the blood away, and pressed down to see how deep it was. You jerked at the pain, but he tsked you and his large hand gripped you tighter, “Ah ah, hold still.” He murmured.

Your eyes flickered over his face, and you worried the inside of your lip, “S-sorry.” You said softly.

A simple but not altogether peaceful silence filled the space as another few minutes passed as he wrapped your arm. The only noise that ended it was the phone in his pocket ringing. You jumped at the sound, while Lalo merely blinked and pulled the device out and held it to his ear as he checked over your face.

The older man brought a hand up to your chin, and tilted your head side to side while inspecting you. You let him, moving your head as he wished.

“Buen.” He rumbled, and you held his gaze, intimidating as it was. Then, he pulled the phone away and snapped it shut before slipping it back into his pocket.

Lalo squinted at a mark on your cheek, and grabbed the cloth again to wipe it.

“Moron beat the shit outta you…” he remarked almost to himself.

You nodded, and smiled a tiny bitter smile as he signed and tossed the closed into the sink; wrappers from bandages and blots of blood on the counter.

“I used to love him…” you whispered, “Turned out to be a real piece of work…” you smiled again, just briefly, in spite of the pain and shock, “He hated life…and life hated him back…” you were just rambling and thinking out loud, but Lalo listened. Perhaps you were boring him a little, but he was curious about exactly who he was dealing with.

You remembered something then, “Did you know he hated Mexican food? Claimed paprika was spicy.”

Lalo gasped and widened his eyes comically. “No! Estoy jodidamente contento de que esté muerto entonces…” he shook his head.

You snorted and laughed dryly, nodding your head.

Then, after a moment, you looked over at the drying blood on the floor. You flinched at the memory of him forcing his way into your home…how horrifying it was to see him so suddenly. But the longer you looked, the less you felt. In you peripheral, you could see Lalo crumpling the bandage wrappers in his hand.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Lalo looked up at you then, and followed your gaze, but you spoke again before he could reply.

“I-…I think I would have done the same, you know.”

This made him pause for a moment.

“If I- if I found someone threatening you or Hector…and I had a gun…I would have done the same.” You knew they weren’t the words of a completely sane person but you said them anyways.

Lalo laughed, “Big talk for a mouse!” He smiled wolfishly.

You stared back at him. “I mean it.”

You realized that you really did mean it. You knew that somehow you were so far gone that you would let blood get on your hands for them. But somehow that didn’t scare you.

The older man shifted and leaned forward between your knees again- bracing himself on his hands as he placed them on either side of you. He was invading your space again, but you held firm. There was no room left in you for fear. You were exhausted and aching.

“You trying to tell me little ratoncito would kill for a Salamanca?” He had an amused smile on his face, but you noted his emotionless eyes- like he was daring you to take back what you said.

A part of you was telling you to- to say you didn’t mean it and tell him you wouldn’t tell anyone what had transpired there that night. But that part of you was stupid, and you were not stupid. Not that stupid. You knew that was a one way ticket to an early grave, so you nodded your weary head.

“Don’t know how good of a shot I am but it’s the thought that counts right?” Your mouth quirked up a little at your horrible joke. You supposed it was a stress reaction to cope.

And Lalo laughed. A single bark of a laugh. “I am so glad you’re funny ninita.” He wagged his finger at you. His face had been so firm as you explained yourself, that now seeing him smile set you a little at ease. The older man pulled away from breathing your air and walked to the sink to wash his hands,“Now what are we going to do about this?” He asked casually.

His question was simple, but it made your heart thump hard. “About?” You asked.

Lalo looked brightly at you as he dried his hands. “You want to say thank you to me, sì?”

You stared at him and you knew there was only one answer. “Of course.” You said.

Lalo smiled. “Esa es mi chica.”

He grabbed one of the two chairs from your small table, and turned it around for him to sit. He spread his knees and leaned forward onto them as he weighed your existence with those brown eyes of his. There was only the faint tapping of water dripping from the faucet as Lalo regarded you- still sat on your kitchen counter. Bruised and battered. Alive thanks to him.

“That cute stunt you pulled at Los Pollos Hermanos…can you do it again?” He asked, lacing his fingers together in front of him. The picture of ease and calm.

“Yes.” You didn’t miss a beat. You had come to terms with the fact that you would do what you did again if need be a while ago.

“Bigger?” He asked.

Your stomach twisted a little. The idea made you nervous, but you knew you could do it.

“Yes.” You answered.

Lalo smiled again and wagged a finger at you. “Ratoncito loco, lo juro...”

You didn’t return the smile, but your face softened. “I’ve been called worse.” You mused, then looked back down at your hand and the blue bruises turning to purple.

The older man didn’t say anything, but he watched you while you fiddled with a bandage and absentmindedly swung your feet slightly.

He looked at you properly in the dim light of your simple apartment. You weren’t frail per se, but you had a certain exhaustion to you that scratched an itch in Lalo’s mind. A tiredness of the world you knew, of the people around you, of who you had become. Yet in spite of that, there was a firecracker inside you waiting to burst into flame; you had a bite to you, even if it was small. Lalo could work with that.

The blood wasn’t as difficult to get out of your floor as you thought it would be.

Your landlady thankfully didn’t put up too much of an argument when you told her you were leaving and breaking your tenancy. You had a feeling it wasn’t just her being nice.

The motel room you were now living out of wasn’t horrible. The extra couple hundreds Lalo had given you when he told you where to stay helped too. Sure the commute to work was a little longer but it wasn’t like you had a choice.

Your eyes were a little more glazed over at work now. You wondered how much longer you would be there. That night, Lalo had given you a date and time and location for your repayment, and now you were counting down the days. It was only a few, but time seemed to pass so quickly and so slowly simultaneously.

Your instructions were fairly simple, in theory. Make the buildings power short circuit if Lalo didn’t call you by 11:42pm. Following that and your escape, you were to go to new motel, and lay low for a few days until you got more instructions.

That or you assumed someone would show up to clean you up as a lose end.

He didn’t tell you why he give you such a specific time, but you assumed there was some kind of shift change over for security at 11:45pm, and wanted those three minutes to carry out some kind of plan B.

Which was why your knee bounced as you see as t in your car across from some massive laundry facility. As you waited, you scanned over the blueprints to the building that you had managed to get from city hall. Evidently a forced smile had been enough to get the clerk to hand it over, and a pouty lip and claiming to be a stressed collage student with a paper due to let you take it home. Once upon a time you would have wanted to wretch at the thought of having done that, but somehow you found yourself…indifferent. Like a part of your anxiety died that night with your ex.

The service road was dim, and your pulse was working double time.

You checked your watch. It read 11:25pm.

A part of you wondered exactly what was set to happen inside that building, but you assumed it could mean your death if you asked. Somewhere in your gut you knew it was an attempt to destroy that man from Los Pollos…it couldn’t be a coincidence that Lalo had asked you to do exactly what you had done again for someone else when he had been so pleased with seeing that restaurant crumble.

So you gathered what you needed and shoved it into a small pouch, said a prayer, and got out of your car. You knew it was a 50/50 chance of Lalo calling you to stop you, but you needed to be ready. If you were only halfway there when he called it might be a big enough mistake that would cost him his life.

It was a fairly quick trip to the building, albeit a stressful one. The fence surrounding the warehouse was thankfully not electrified, though it was still very uncomfortable to scale. A day previously you had managed to find a low point that would be easier to get back over when you were escaping too.

As you waiter for the rotation of guards to get to their blind point, you leapt up and rolled yourself over the top of the metal fence, landing with a fairly ungrateful thud and a cloud of dust that was thankfully covered by the darkness.

You crouched low, and held onto the strap of your pouch. There were men everywhere watching, but you were small and unassuming in the shadows. You hoped you could channel that inner mouse that Lalo claimed you had, though it was a long shot. With another breath, you pulled your medical mask up over your face’s lower half as you sped from one shadow to another. It was an odd atmosphere there- you felt as if you were walking into Area 51. It was deserted and eerie aside from the security. You might have not been to a laundry processing warehouse before but you sure as shit were certain that this level of security was odd.

You clung to the side of the building; your heart in your ears. Time was on your side for once, as you checked your watch again, and noted that you still had 7 minutes before you potentially had to clip and cross and overload the building’s wiring. Perhaps you spoke a little soon though as you had begun to go a little too fast towards the back of the building and missed getting spotted by a man by a centimetre. The toes of your shoes stuck out of the thin shadow that concealed you, but evidently they weren’t enough to draw the attention of the guard. You thanked god for the emergency ladder beside you for partially hiding you too.

You found the back entrance and worked your way along to find the main control panel. Shadows moved out of the corner of your eye, making your mind play tricks on you, and you felt chills run up and down your spine; then you found it. The panel came into view, and you checked the area around you once more as you opened your bag. There were three thick locks over the latches that opened the door, and you sighed as you looked at them. Your metal tools felt very cold in your hands.

There was no going back now.

You slipped your picking tools inside the first lock, began pressuring the mechanisms inside of the lock. You were still rusty, but your life was on the line, so you didn’t have room for a botched job. After a few minutes, you felt the device click and pop open- relief filled you. It was short lived though when you remembered that you had a maximum of 5 minutes before the next rotation of guards began their way to you.

The thought of getting caught made your hands shake, but not as much as the thought of the Salamancas coming after you. You worked at the next lock and focused on sleeping in a dry motel that night instead of your body being tossed into a shallow grave or left in the desert like some insignificant roadkill.

The second lock popped open after a few moments, and you checked your watch.

11:40pm.

As the time grew closer to when you might need to blow this building's circuits, you felt an odd clarity come over you- tinkering away at the last lock. You might have been in danger. You might have been caught up in a cartel. You might have been alone. You might have been a witness to a murder.

But you weren’t afraid. Disturbed by your possible fate, perhaps, but not afraid. You were exhausted of being afraid all the time.

The lock popped open, and you stared at it calmly.

You have a job to do.

The metal door opened with a screech, and you enhaled deeply when you saw the massive circuit-board and hundreds of fuses, and wires wrapped and bound together. You were certain your ex was calling you a hypocrite from his place Hell.

You checked your watch again.

11:42pm.

You sucked in another breath, and stared at your shaking hands like it might help to stop the tremors. It didn’t.

The silence was heavy around you, and you stood in it for another second before your little alarm went off.

"Okay..." You whispered to yourself. Your mask made your breath feel moist and hot. Your hands took purchase on your wire cutters and pliers, and you stared at some weak points. You wanted the fuses to blow on their own, so you started with flipping off and switches with wires connected that you wanted to clip or mess with. Lights shut off around you, but there was enough for you to see what you were doing as you reworked some of the wire positions, and clipped and tugged. Then once you were satisfied, you took a deep breath and turned every single switch on. For any building, it was t advised for every power-drawer to be on at once if unnecessary…for good reason. There was a low hum that began to emit from the panel. The tampered fuses and wiring forcing more and more strain on other areas so they would start tripping.

A spark startled you. Then another. Then another. You watched the entire panel start to malfunction. Then, there were shouts of panic around the building as a power grid shut off in the lot, which you took that as your cue to run.

With your pliers and white cutters in your bag, you shut the panel door and locked it back up in record time. Then, you faced the fence, and ran.

You didn't care that the lights were shutting down all around you. All you knew was you had instructions, and you were certainly going to follow them. You came to the edge of the front of the building and paused in the shadows as groups of men scattered around the dusty lot. Your heart was racing in your chest, but you could see your car just beyond the light, and you expected some kind of relief to wash over you but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a deep pit forming in your stomach.

Lalo hadnt called you.

Of course you hoped that it was simply because his plan went accordingly and having the cover of darkness and chaos was what he needed and...not that it was because he had been shot and bled out before he could call you. The idea that he might have met the fate that you had dreaded for yourself suddenly made you-

Ring ring ring

You froze.

The quiet ring tone made you scramble to answer your phone before it attracted attention. You pulled it from your jacket and wrenched your mask down to breathe when you saw the number.

His.

The same number he had put on a piece of paper for you a month ago.

A million and a half thoughts went through your head as you stared down at the little screen, but the only one you could focus on was the possibility that Lalo was in trouble. That he needed you.

You hit answer, and held the phone to your ear. "Hello?" You whispered, pressing yourself against the side of the building.

There was a strained breath on the other end. "You busy, princesita?"

You couldn’t breathe. He wasnt supposed to call you. That was never a part of any plan he told you.

"No." You managed to get out, eyes unfocused as you tried to remember the blueprints of the building.

"Mind giving me a hand?" He asked just as carefree as he always was, but you knew better. There was a tightness to his voice. He was hurt. Badly too, if he was calling you.

"Wh-where are you?" You asked, already searching for your flashlight in your bag as another few light grids shut off around you.

"You’re- mierda...You’re gonna come in through the main door, okay? Th-through the door with the window... At the end- ah...end of those washers and shit, theres gonna be a door behind one..." He coughed, and you heard him suck in a breath.

You nodded frantically to yourself as you recalled the drawing of the building. Seems that Chicken man was up bro more than just a restaurant. "Okay, okay I- I remember where that is. I’m coming just- just dont die!" You said in a rush.

"Klah! Me? Never." You heard him say, but you were already flipping the phone shut. Lights were flickering like mad as you began inching around to the front of the building, and your eyes began playing tricks on you as they strained to function in the changing a brightness.

To your luck, the front was almost devoid of security as they all ran to the back or inside. You heard radios going off and yells and orders being barked out, but somehow no one saw you.

You crept along the blue facility until you made it to the door. It sat open, and you didn’t waste any time as you slipped inside past the massive bins.

You were alone. For now.

You clicked on your flashlight and you were indeed surrounded by massive industrial washers. It was admittedly overwhelming, but you forced your brain to focus. You looked at each end of the main walkway of the processing room just as Lalo had told you to, and you noticed that a washer at one end was off kilter. You didn’t have time yo weigh the pros and cons of choosing to investigate it, but when you went to run, the sound of footsteps halted you. You clicked off your flashlight.

"The hell is going on in there- this shits supposed to be secure..." You heard a ma n say, and a grumble from another man. You looked around and ducked behind one of the washers; evidently just in time too as the men passed by you just several feet away.

“Where the hell is Mike?” One asked.

You let out a relieved breath when they didn’t turn around or stop to check on your heavy breathing, but it caught in your throat when you saw the guns in their belts glint in the little light. The very real situation that you had just ran into settled into your mind. That you were in the middle of a very messy cartel issue. Something that even Lalo hadn’t meant for you to get mixed in.

You waited until they left, and it grew quiet again before you flicked your light on again, and made a break for the washer. You hoped to god that you weren't too late in your search.

The amount of sound from your feet was too loud, but you didn’t dare stop. You hoped no one would care in the chaos you had created. The sound of other footsteps began to echo around you and you felt a weight on your chest like you were running from a loaded gun but you didn’t look back.

When you were just feet away, you saw the edge of a hidden door. You internally rejoiced, but it was short-lived when you remembered a man might be dying. You whipped around the corner of it, and followed the route of the stairs down. You didn’t have time to consider you might be going the wrong way, so you clamoured down as fast and quietly as you humanly could. Your feet were surprisingly soundless as you inched along the catwalks and flashed your light here and there along the scaffolding.

*What the hell is this place...*

Your heart was in your throat. You could smell dirt and machinery-

You stopped. A sound caught your ears, and you listened for it again. There- a wheeze.

"S-Señor Lalo?" You whispered, creeping down the steps, flashing your light across the expansive space.

You continued down, down, down until you were at the second to last flight of stairs when you jumped and almost fell back. Your flashlight caught a sight that chilled you.

"Eh…Hola niñita, fancy seeing you here!"

Just a couple feet down from you sat the very man who had called you. Your blood went cold when you saw Lalo laying there on the stairs with blood seeping out of his side and neck where he was pressing down.

"L-Lalo-" You whispered, rooted to the spot. Not even the sight of your ex shot dead had rendered you so motionless.

"Not to rush you princesa, but I’ve felt better." He forced out, glancing down at his side that was getting more saturated with blood by the second.

Your senses suddenly went into hyperdrive, and you almost jumped down the couple steps to crouch at his side. You placed your flashlight into the crook of your neck and held it there with your cheek as you pulled his hand from his jugular. A little relief filled you when you noted that the artery wasn’t hit and the bullet just skimmed him.

"Okay, you’re okay." You muttered to him, "Lets get you up."

You were so focused as you started positioning yourself for some leverage that you missed the fact that his eyes hadn't left you. Then he sighed and waved you off.

"Need...the camera..." He rumbled and pointed down.

You stared at him in confusion then followed his finger and held your light again to follow the beam.

Sure enough, 20 feet below you in the dirt was a camcorder.

You nodded silently, not even considering the possibility of arguing, and leapt over him before clamouring down the stairs. Your feet hit dirt and you looked around frantically for the device. The metal caught the light of your flashlight, and as you sped over to it, tried to ignore the various trails of blood in the soil. You grasped the camera and slipped it into your pouch along side your other supplies as you scaled the stairs, light jumping with every step.

As you came back to his side, you wordlessly gripped Lalo’s hand and elbow, and gingerly began to help him stand; you had expected him to wince or protest, but all you heard was him groan a little and wave you off like a fly.

"Shit shot..." He rumbled.

You looked at him as you ignored his gesture, and guided him up, "Wh-"

"Chicken Man he was a shit fucking shot...could’ve at least killed me. Now look at me…" He shook his head like he was more disappointed than distressed.

You huffed out a stressed laugh and looked back at him, then swore under your breath.

"What? I look that bad?" He joked.

You shook your head and moved your flashlight to your mouth and your pressed your free hand to his neck as it continued to gush. He was paler and paler by the second.

"Step." You muttered, again you ignored any of his attempts to be independent, and together you began your ascent up the narrow metal stairs.

His pace was determined and you briefly wondered if he was human as he seemed to ignore his wounds. Your steps fell into sync, and you were thankful for the silence between you as you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to do. As you reached the top of the stairs, you mentally began to map out the building in your head in relation to where you were. You couldn't just walk out the front door, and you couldn’t use the back exit either; no doubt there were men stationed at every exit…

You hesitated slightly just inside hidden door, and thought for a moment. You could hear voices outside, and footsteps...the place was crawling with people. With guns.

Your mind worked overtime and while you couldn't think of a perfect solution, you had one that would hopefuly end with the least amount of bullets in you. Without another thought, you flicked off your light and looked at Lalo as darkness engulfed you. Just like you, he didnt say a word. He knew you were thinking- keeping your word that you would effectively put yourself in harms way for him.

You stuck your head out briefly to see how clean the path was, and once you were satisfied, you sucked in a breath and looked back at the older man by your side. He nodded down at you as best he could and the two of you took a step out into the laundry facility.

You both crept along one of the washers, and glanced out at the room. A person came around the corner of one of the machines, flashlight in hand and you quickly moved the two of you back. Lalo hissed at the quick movement, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough. The footsteps came and went, as did a few others along with shouting. You chanced a glance out again, and this time, you went for it.

"Cmon." You whispered.

Lalo let you take his arm, and you guided him along the machines to a service hall where it was less exposed. You could hear people running , and tires screeching outside and orders being barked out, but all you could do was focus on letting your eyes adjust to the darkness and making sure you didn’t trip or take a wrong turn. Once you were halfway down the hall, a door opened at the other end, and you felt bile rise in your throat. You acted on instict and pressed Lalo into the nearest open door and held your breath. You couldn’t see him clearly, but you could feel Lalo’s warm chest rising and falling against you. You watched the flashlight of the person bob around out in the hall beyond the door and prayed that the person wouldn’t look in the doorway.

Your muscles seazed up as you waited and held your breath...then the person was gone. You breathed out and quickly grabbed the older man and began the last leg of the journey. You shouldered open the door at the end, and sure enough, there was an exit up to the roof. You looked around vaguly at the dark room and noted that there were no windows, and turned your light back on.

"You first Señor." You said and nodded to the ladder. Lalo stared at you, hard.

Then he nodded, and began hoisting himself up the ladder. You shone your light up for him to see where he was going and waited until he was at the top before following behind him quickly. At the top, you wrenched the small door open and almost fell out onto the roof. You looked around, and appreciated that there was a little light from neighbouring warehouses illuminating the outside. You whipped your head around and began looking for the ladder down like you had hid behind when you blew the fuze box. Sure enough, across the roof, you saw the first few steps and you nodded towards it for Lalo to see. The two of you took off and kept low. You could see cars exiting and entering the gate and you swore under your breath. So much for a clear path.

"How bad a shape are you in, Señor?" You muttered to him.

Lalo smiled out a hoarse laugh and scanned with you. "Should see the other guy.” He replied, and you looked over at him. He shot you a wink and you felt your eye twitch.

You sighed, and nodded and pointed to where you had managed to get over the fence, "Theres a low part in the fence there...we might get seen, but...I think we'll at least be able to get away." It looked so far away now, especially since you were on another part of the roof.

Lalo nodded and started towards the ladder before you could even check that the coast was clear.

You tried to halt him, "Wait-"

But he already took your hand and dragged you down with him over the rungs of the latter, almost completely foregoing them. You scrambled down after him, and landed beside him just in time for a flashlight to shine over the roof.

As you stood there together, you saw Lalo sway for a moment, then recover with steely eyes as if nothing had happened. You knew he wasn’t doing well, but you had a feeling he would die before he showed any sign of weakness…hell you were certain he would die with a smile on his face if he could.

The two of you stayed low for a moment as you scanned the lot, and it seemed as if you both came to the same conclusion: there was no way you could wait for a perfect moment.

“I’m ready when you are Señor.” You whispered almost reassuringly up to him, then glanced down at his neck that still had a stream of blood coming from it, albeit small. You still didn’t know how he was running around with two bullet wounds.

Lalo remained still for a second as another guard ran past the two of you, then reached into the back of his belt, under his jacket. He produced a gun- the same one you had seen him use that night when he…

“You know how to shoot one of these?” He asked as he pressed it into your palm. You stared down at it. It was heavier than you though it would be.

“I- I know the general idea.” You said, holding it in your hand.

Lalo pressed his hand back to his bleeding side and groaned slightly. “Two hands. One to aim one to steady, okay? Point and shoot. Easy.” He nodded when you had it right. “Vamos.” He rumbled, and began your break from the safety of the shadows.

Having the gun in your hand made you feel both vulnerable and dangerous simultaneously. You scanned as you ran, and just when you began to hope you didn’t have to fire the weapon, you saw a man round the corner of the building just behind you, and you stopped running without a second thought. You aimed, and you shot.

The gun’s recoil made you jump and you watched as the man fell and a spurt of blood came from his back as the bullet winged him.

You heard Lalo bark out a single laugh, “Mi niñita loca…a natural!”

Your ears were ringing. Your feet moved you toward him as you tore your eyes from the groaning man on the ground, and kept your steady pace towards the fence. It came quicker than you thought, though you gathered that the fact that you were still reeling from having just shot a man had something to do with it.

“You first Señor.” You rushed out as you both came to a stop; managing to turn the safety on the gun before stuffing the gun into your pouch.

Lalo didn’t argue, though he did fix you with an intense stare before he pulled himself up the bars with more ease than you thought possible, especially considering his injury. You wondered what it would take to slow him down…

He landed with a thud and a cloud of dust on the other side.

“Vamos, niñita.” He said, beckoning you over with both hands.

You nodded and sucked in a breath and jumped up to grab the top of the fence, and let the adrenaline do the rest of the work. You pulled yourself up and as you situated yourself to jump down, you felt something whizz past your head. Things went quiet and your ears rang. You whipped your head and looked behind you; sure enough, there where two men approaching you with their guns raised. You blinked, then you jumped. Lalos hands were on your waist to guide you down, but all you could see was his paling complexion.

Another few shots were fired, hitting the fence.

You brain kicked back into gear just enough to grab his hand and run to your car with Lalo. You wrench open the door the door for him then ran to the drivers side as another bullet was fired.

You pulled your keys out and forced your hands to cooperate for a moment as you started it up and hit the gas without hesitation. A few more shots were fired behind you, but you peeled out of there before they could do any damage.

It wasn’t until you had been driving for five minutes, taking twists and turns that would get you several speeding and hazardous driving tickets if you were caught, that you finally looked over at the man beside you. He was pressing against his neck and side, and you flickered your gaze over him.

“Y-you’re bleeding-“ you said. It was a dumb thing to say, but it was all you could get out. “I…I need to- we need to get you somewhere…I can’t- no no hospital…do you know anyone? I- I can probably stitch your neck but…”your voice cracked.

“You have to calm down, Jesus Christ… I’m the one dying here.” He rasped.

Your panicking self turned to him sharply and you made a split second decision. “You’re not going to die.”

You turned the car around far too harshly and sped off into the city. You needed more civilization. More people. Being alone would kill the both of you.

You drove to the motel you had booked ahead of time to lay low in after that night, and as you pulled to a stop outside, your hands began to shake uncontrollably. The breaths you took came shakily too.

You didn’t even see the rare look of pride on Lalo’s face- you had done good. He was impressed.

But all you could do was succumb to your adrenaline and panic as they mixed. “You lost so much blood…g-god I should have found you faster, I’m sorry…I gotta get you inside- I have a kit in the trunk, I-I can patch you up-“

You were cut off when Lalo reached over to you with his good arm, and gripped the back of your head and yanked you over the middle console and kissed you. Everything stopped. Your breathing, your words, your heart, your brain, time…everything. You could taste him as his warm tongue flicked against yours when you gasped. It was fast and hard, but you were left stunned as he pulled away. Lalo stared at you, and just as he had hoped, you reset.

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“O-okay…” you whispered, eyes refocusing. “Let’s get you inside.” You were on auto pilot as you opened your door and grabbed the first aid kit from the back and the bag you had packed when you left your apartment almost a week ago. As you were about to cross over to the motel, you stopped Lalo quickly and began buttoning up his jacket for a little extra coverage of his bloodstains. Lalo regarded you calmly and carefully, a tiny grin pulling at his mouth.

“I loved this jacket…” he rumbled, regarding the stain forming, “Really comfortable, y’know?”

Once you were satisfied, you led him to the room you had booked, and took out the key they had given you two days ago.

You turned the key and swung the door open before helping the man in and sitting him down and kicking the door shut. You dumped your things down and crouched as you began unbuttoning his jacket. The red stain confronted you again when you pushed the fabric off his broad shoulders. You stared at it, then you heard him tut you.

“Se agradecería un poco de entusiasmo.” He was aloof, but his words were beginning to slur. He wasn’t doing well.

You jumped and snapped back to yourself as you began to frantically undo his dress-shirt.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” You muttered, though you weren’t sure if it was for him or for yourself.

His nice shirt came apart, all sticky from the blood, and you were faced with his soaked skin, and angry wound. Your head went light.

You remembered patching your ex up one night after a bar fight…but nothing that bad. It had been a cut from a pocket knife, not two bullet wounds.

There was no time for you to fall apart though. You were going to make this right even if it was the last thing you did.

You ran to the bathroom and filled the motel ice bucket with warm water and a glass with cold. When you came back, Lalo was forcing himself to stay awake- eyelids heavy. You grabbed every towel you could, and knelt at his feet again.

“Ey, there she is…” he rumbled.

You felt your lips pull into a nervous grin as if trying to see his humour.

“You’re gonna be okay…I’m- I’m gonna fix this-…” Your voice was unsteady though you tried your best to stay calm for him.

You dipped one of the towels into warm water and began dabbing away the blood by his side as best as you could; your stomach flipped at the sight of his torn flesh, but you weren’t about to pass out or back down.

“L-lay back, here.” You grabbed a few pillows and guided him to lay down, and as you went back to wiping his neck and side clean, you watched him try to say lucid. He did a profound job of keeping his breathing steady and you had a brief wonder of how many times he had been shot or worse. You brought a towel to his side and pressed down. Then you felt a surge of panic when you realized you hadn’t given him anything for the pain. “Shit! I’m- I’m sorry you- I didn’t give you anything.” You wrenched the kit open and shakily looked for anything that might help him. You found a small bottle of Tylenol, and though you weren’t certain how effective it would be, you grabbed two and the clean glass of water.

“Open.” You forced out, and placed the pills on his tongue and held the glass to his lips. Your hands shook and you spilled a little, but you focused on remaining calm.

You set the water down once he swallowed and took another towel, then went to his neck where you wiped more blood away. It was just a gash, but needed stitches. You felt your heart beat in your throat, and you wanted so badly to break down, but you couldn’t. You rifled through the kit and found the sutures, a new needle pack and the holder and forceps, and set them on the bed. You wiped the area again, and took a shuttered breath.

“Hey…”

You felt tears well in your eyes.

“Niñita.” Came his voice again.

You blinked and grabbed the needle pack and ripped it open with your teeth. The needle fell into your hand, and you took another breath.

“Y/n.”

You jumped and looked up. Lalo was staring right at you, eyelids heavy.

“You need to stay calm.” He rumbled, “Can’t let me get fucked up, sì?”

You sobbed out a laugh.

“You’re horrible.” You whispered, and sniffled.

“Everybody loves me.” He smiled dazed.

You took a few more breaths and thought of something that made you sober quickly. You thought of what Hector would have done to you if he found out you let his favourite nephew die.

With that in mind, you knelt beside him on the bed; you wiped and dried the wound on his neck again quickly, and pushed his flesh back together to start stitching

“Easy there tiger.” He groaned.

You sighed and brought the threaded needle to his skin, and you pushed in. The feeling of the needle going through his skin made your stomach churn.

His eye twitched, but he didn’t move as you slowly stitched him up. You hoped to god that you weren’t making this worse than it was already was, and thanked god that you had seen several medical shows on late night television years ago…

You finished the wound, and you sighed in relief as you tied a knot for the remaining thread. It wasn’t perfect, but the wound was holding together and he was barely bleeding anymore.

You cleaned the surrounding area one more time, and looked at your patient. He was staring at nothing, but he was awake. You wanted to stop and check on him, but you knew time was not something you had plenty of. With that in mind, you shuffled gingerly down the mattress to the other bullet hole, and cleaned away the entrance wound. There was no way you were going to try and remove a bullet. Certainly you had seen it done in movies but you were not about to do it to a man on deaths door, not when it meant it could cause him to bleed out. You replaced the towel that had become sodden with blood, and pressed down on the crisp white fabric. A warm blot of blood began to seep through and you felt your heart sink down into your ankles.

You were horrified that you had to sniffle a little, tears threatening to well up. You watched his face carefully; he was unbelievably strong willed. He practically refused to lose consciousness. His skin was pale and his eyes were heavy yet still he was awake and watching you from his propped up perch.

“I know a guy…” he rumbled. Suddenly.

You jumped and looked at him, surprised that he spoke. “Tell me how to reach him.” You said, already reaching for his jacket to find his phone.

“Second to last number…he’ll know who it is…” He might have been lacking blood, but Lalo still managed to sound just as confident and aloof as always.

You scrolled down and found the number, and pressed it without another thought. It rang twice before a man answered it.

“Where?” Came the voice.

You wanted to double check that he knew who you were calling for…but you had a feeling this man wasn’t just some guy who forgot who Lalo Salamanca was.

You gave him the address, simple and concise. He didn’t say thank you, or double check, and somehow you found that comforting. You snapped the phone shut, and placed it back in his pocket.

“He’s coming…it…its going to be okay…” you whispered. You wondered how many times that phone had been used to take a life with a simple order.

You looked down at the towel on his side, and lifted it gently to check the bleeding. It was still coming. You grabbed one of the spare pillows and wordlessly began unbuckling Lalo’s belt.

“I know you wanna help there princesita, but I don’t think right now is the best time for a bl-“

You ripped the belt from the loops and pressed the pillow to his side, making him groan and shut his mouth fast. It wasn’t perfect, but you managed to get the belt under his back and around his waist and over the pillow to fasten it to his side, tight. The pressure would help the bleeding better than your hands, and you leaned back once you got it tight enough.

You heart rate had slowed, and now seeing him a little more repaired, you looked at him properly. His eyes were closed, and it didn’t hit you for a moment that him being lax could be a horrible thing. Then your blood went cold.

You shot up out of your seat beside him and leaned over his chest.

"L...Lalo?" You whispered.

Nothing.

You feel lightheaded. You pressed your ear to his chest, and his heartbeat was faint. The tips of your fingers felt cold.

"Lalo!" Your voice broke, but again, there was no response.

Your eyes began to well with tears, and you broke.

"You motherfucker I'm neck deep in this shit, and I cant get myself out without you!" You cried out and slapped his thick chest.

You stared at his face for a moment, dread filling you.

Then, the corner of his mouth tugged.

“Awh, you mean it?” Came his low voice, his eyes still closed.

You felt your hands tingle as the urge to slap him filled you. It was like he could feel it. Lalo smirked slightly.

“C’mon I know you want to…what just because I’m half dead you’re going soft?” He goaded you.

You clenched your jaw and sighed. His mouth tugged again, though his eyes remained closed. Eventually his face went lax, and his breathing became even and slow. You called his name once more, but when he didn’t answer you gathered he was sleeping. You hoped against hope that the guy you had called would be there soon, but you supposed only time would tell.

In his dazed slumber, Lalo murmured a name or two…and you found yourself getting dizzy with sleep the longer you watched him.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, your head was down on the bed in your arms- just where you had been as you watched over him.

You looked up, and and stilled when you saw those large, glittering black eyes staring back at you, fully awake and very alive.

“Ahh she awakens.” He rasped.

You sat up and rubbed your head, taking him in.

He was sat, clean and reclined on the bed. There was a neat bandage over his side, and a smaller one over his neck, along with a couple brown bags where he kept reaching and eating from on the side table

“What…” you tried to say. You had expected to be awoken by the man knocking to get in the room, so how in the hell had he gotten in-

“Hm? Other guy took too long…called in a favour. Didn’t feel like dying yet.” He said as he pulled out a water from one of the bags for you. He dangled it in front of your face.

“I-oh…thank you.” You slowly took the water, and drank from it. You couldn’t remember when you last had water.

“Chicken man thinks he got me…we’ll stay here for a while…” Lalo rumbled.

You nodded, “I- I have the room booked for another two nights…um- I can see if I can get another one for you…if you want some priva-“

“Nah.” He dismissed you. But he said it with that easy grin of his as he looked at the shitty motel room service brochure. There was a warm silence to the room as you sat there with him. You sipped at your water, and slowly stood up, wincing at your back.

Lalo was flipping through one of the brochures of Albuquerque and chuckling every so often. Evidently he thought the touristic sights were amusing. It all seemed so surreal again, just like that night in your apartment as he patched you up.

Then, as you stood there in a daze, you. Suddenly realised how disgusting you felt. Blood and sweat and dirt was caked to you. You quietly went to the washroom and splashed some cold water on your face. You looked a mess. With Lalo more stable, you walked outside and grabbed the bag you had, and went back to the washroom to shower. You bagged up the clothes you had worn, and climbed inside the stall. The warm water washed over you, and you felt tears run down your face as the stress broke out of you. You sobbed quietly into your hand, and let the blood and dirt drain away.

It wasn’t long, but it was enough to help you settle back into your body.

Once you were finished, you dried your hair and put on some clean clothes; you forgot how wonderful it felt to be scrubbed clean. Your head felt a little light, but clear.

When you came out, Lalo was staring out the front window, and slipping a new, clean shirt onto one arm. You watched his back flex and the thick muscles ripple, and you were suddenly hit with the memory of of his lips pressing against yours in the car-

“You’re a little crazy, you know that?” He rumbled as he turned around, and begun buttoning his floral shirt.

You blinked and dragged your stare away from his chest.

“I’m- I’m sorry?” You asked, not fully understanding him. Was he referring to you running through firing bullets for him?

“You said you wished you had a family like the Salamancas. Anyone who says that must be crazy.” He smiled and said it with a laugh, but neither reached his eyes.

You didn’t smile, and didn’t move. Not even when he reached and grabbed his gun off the night stand as he stalked towards you.

“Said you’d take a bullet if you needed to…hm?” He taunted you, standing between you and the door.

You felt a drop of water you had missed run down the back of your neck.

“I haven’t achieved a lot in my life, Señor…but I like to think that I saved your life last night…and while I don’t think you’re a good person, I do know you have a lot of people who would miss you.” You looked from the barrel of the gun to his eyes, “You can shoot me, Señor Lalo…I did something good last night…and I can die with that on my consciousness. If I die with your family knowing I did something in their favour, I’ll be satisfied.” You swallowed and looked back at him. A sense of calm came over you, “Just…please make sure Hector is never seated beside Thomas Lee…they hate each other.” You added with a tiny smile at the memory of having to separate their wheelchairs more than once.

Lalo’s heavy gaze was locked on you, and your eyes flickered over him; his chest was rising and falling quickly. Very unlike the Lalo you knew. He was always so calm…eerily so.

“Come closer I don’t want to miss.” He rumbled.

You took the few steps that were between you, and stood at the edge of his outstretched arm, just an inch from the gun.

You raised your gaze to meet his, firm and ready to meet your end. But you saw something in Lalo that you had only seen once before- that night he had emptied a magazine into your ex- it was a hunger. A glimpse of an animal inside him.

You both stood there for a moment, barely blinking as you stared at one another. The air was thick and warm as the scorching sun heated everything under it outside. You watched his mouth twitch, and his glittering eyes flickered over your face as you remained still. He was thinking…fast.

You had proved yourself to him whether you meant to or not. Proved that you were willing and loyal. That you were quick and nurturing.

You were nuts.

And he liked that.

Then, Lalo brought his arm down and threw the gun onto the table behind him. The movement made you flinch slightly, but you still didn’t move. You weren’t about to be weak in front of him. You watched the older man take the two strides that separated you, and you felt his warm hands slip along your jaw to tilt your head back before you felt his lips on yours. They were warm, and he tasted of something sweet and smoky; his moustache tickled your lip, and you mewled softly into his mouth as you leaned up to move your lips with his urgent kiss. It was vicious, and messy. Lalo swept his tongue over your lips and you opened them without hesitation. A low hum rumbled in his chest, as he tasted you. You laid your hands on his chest, and he tore from your mouth for a moment to speak against your lips, still pecking and licking into your mouth.

“You want to be one of us? A little mouse of a Salamanca?” He rumbled, kissing you again.

You whimpered and nodded as best at you could, “Yes!”

He smirked against your lips and bit at your bottom one as he pulled you closer, “You’ll do what it takes?” Lalo began backing you up, and your legs hit the bed, making you fall back.

“Anything-“ you mumbled breathlessly as he descended upon you, his strong frame caged you in as he leaned down to kiss your jaw down to your neck where he bit and sucked ruthlessly.

“Again.” He rasped against your skin.

“Anything!” You whined, weaving your fingers into his greying hair.

“You’re mine you understand that?” Lalo pulled away and stared right at you; the sight of him so close, and his scent invading every one of your senses had your head go fuzzy. You were his.

“Y-yes papi.” You said without thinking as need took over you.

Lalo’s brow fell, and his face suddenly went serious- you felt worry prickle at you. But then he sat up and on his knees, and began unbuttoning his crisp shirt. “Say that again, Cariño.”

You stared at his fingers as his shirt came apart and you saw his bandage.

“Yes papi.” You repeated yourself.

He groaned satisfactorily deep in his chest, and slipped his shirt off his shoulders and leaned down to to grip the top of your skirt and dragged it down your legs, grinning at your panties. You bashfully went to close your knees but he smiled and tutted you, “No no no, mi princesita, open up for papi…a little more.” He ran a finger down your thigh and flicked it to make a point as you parted them.

He leaned back and reached down to run a finger down your covered slit and barked out an amused little playful laugh when he felt how soaked the material was, watching as the fabric clung to your lips.

“Dulce coñito…”he rumbled.

You may not have been fluent in Spanish, but you knew exactly what he said.

“All for me?” Lalo replaced his finger with his thumb and began rubbing up and down steadily, then stopping to circle around your clit.

You nodded, then he pressed down on your clit gently, and a whimper escaped you.

“Ooh I think she likes that.” He smiled wolfishly down at you. There was nothing you could do to hide your warming cheeks- you were practically glowing as he touched you. This man had just been bleeding on you on the verge of death, and here he was teasing you to near tears.

The man took in every twitch of your thighs, and gasp, storing every bit of information into that calculating brain of his. And you let him. You didn’t hide when you didn’t like something and certainly not when he was driving you crazy. He huffed in annoyance when he couldn’t feel all of your skin against him, and he nearly tore your shirt off of you, and bit and mouthed at the sports bra you had on.

Lalo leaned over you, and devoured your mouth as he finally slipped a long, thick finger inside you. You moaned into the kiss and he chuckled in return.

“Tan sensible, princesita…” he rumbled, and very slowly began to pump in and out of you; the movements matching the pace of his tongue licking into your mouth.

His other hand came up to the nape of your neck where he clenched his fist into your hair and stroked your neck with his thumb. You could feel yourself start to twitch and your muscles grew tighter as he patiently built your orgasm like he was entitled to it. Gently stroking your g-spot and teasing your sensitive clit as it swelled under the pad of his thumb. But then every time you felt yourself start to reach your climax, he would slow, and back off. You whined pitifully into his mouth and he hummed and chuckled.

“Tan impaciente, do I need to teach you manners?” He purred against your mouth.

You shook your head frantically and bit the inside of your lip.

He hummed again, and you felt the vibrations against you. “No…you’re a good girl, eh? Una niña tan buena para mí…” he kissed your temple, and the gesture made your head spin as you keened into his hand.

“Please…” you whispered, and melted when he kissed your nose, continuing his slow pace.

“Look at you…so domesticated like a little dog. Como una pequeña mascota…” he purred.

You blushed, and flicked your eyes away in shame…was he taunting you? Did he think so little of you?

“Ah ah…I like when you look at me, niñita…” he tutted you, and put pressure on your jaw with his thumb as he still cradled your head. You felt his finger pull from you and you suppressed a mewl.

“You’d kill for me. You’d kill for your papi hm?” He goaded you.

You never thought you would say yes to something like that…but you knew that when you fired his gun at that man, you were ready for the bullet to be fatal.

“Yes…” you murmured.

He smiled wolfishly down at you, “Estás loca, niñita.”

Lalo leaned up and away from you, and hissed for a moment. You sat up with him and followed his gaze down to the bandage on his side.

“Are you alright?” You asked quietly, reaching out to touch the area lightly. Lalo snatched your hand and brought it up to his mouth were he sucked one of your fingers into his mouth; your lips parted at the sensation, and with your body so on edge, it only added to the fire inside you.

Then he looked back down and scoffed. “Shit shot.”

You smiled a small smile, then leaned up onto your knees in front of him and watched him closely as you pressed a kiss to his chest. You could feel his heart beating under his skin, and you felt a strange privilege to feel it. You kissed him again, then followed a small trail down to where the bandage was. You looked up at him again; he was watching you intently, his breathing heavy as his thick chest heaved. You held his gaze, and dared to press a kiss right over his wound.

“Mierda…” he rumbled, then you were being wrenched from him and your back hit the bed again. Lalo was almost panting and he opened his belt and pulled it from its loops before throwing it onto the bed beside you. You could only watch as he worked his pants open, not taking his eyes off of you for a second.

You felt pinned to the spot under him, and you grew weak under his heavy, scorching gaze.

“Yours.” You whispered, and spread your legs wider for him. You didn’t know what drew you to say it…but there was a part of you that was so resigned to this man that you couldn’t even think coherently anymore.

Lalo didn’t even stutter his movements as he shucked his pants off. You stared up at him, partially appreciating that you weren’t the only one nude…but somehow you felt even more intimidated with him having nothing on. He was a strong, powerful man. There was no hiding it. A thick, strong chest and tummy, broad shoulders, thick thighs that you had seen pull at his trousers just like his arms strained his shirts.

You felt tiny.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as he descended on you. Lalo took each of your wrists in his hands, and pinned you there. You could feel the heavy weight of his cock lay on your stomach between you as he nestled between your thighs.

The tip leaked onto your tummy, and you squirmed against his hold on your wrists as you tried to touch him or hold onto him for dear life, but he kept you there- so vulnerable. Lalo transferred one of your wrists to his other hand and he use his free one to grope down your body, and return to your slick cunt; he slipped a finger inside you again, checking to see that you were still soaked, and he chuckled. You knew you were an even bigger mess than when he had initially teased you.

“Creo que estás goteando.” He chuckled and pulled away from you to glance down as he pulled his fingers from you- a thick line of slick between his fingers and he pulled them apart.

You flushed. Lalo hummed in satisfaction. He had you in the palm of his hand. Literally.

He took his wet hand and worked it over the tip of his cock, and you almost whined at the slick sound. You had gotten an eye-full of his cock when he had stood at the foot of the bed, and you knew he was massive. You could feel him pull his hips away from you as he moved the fat tip down to run it through your folds. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, Lalo released your wrists and leaned back on his heels to watch himself rub the head over your clit then down the length of your slit, and back up. He rubbed it right over your sensitive bud and you bit your lip to keep from whining.

“C’mon ninita don’t be shy- I know the moustache is a bit much but I promise I’m a really nice guy.” He teased you, then surprised you by dipping the tip inside you. Just a little.

But it was enough to make you lose composure and moan pathetically.

“Ahh there she goes- see? Knew you’d warm up to me.” Lalo’s rough voice filled your ears and you moaned again when he slipped in a little further, one hand still gripping the base of his shaft and the other now on your hip in a bruising grip.

You stared up at him helplessly, hands weaved into the sheet below you.

“Precioso…” he purred almost to himself.

The endearment had you flush even more, and he started to catch onto the correlation. His face no longer held any amusement, but instead a ravenous focus sat handsomely in the deep lines of his skin.

He pulled the tip out again, then pushed in further until it popped inside you completely- a small bulge there at your entrance. Your breathing came heavily and you leaned up a little to watch.

Lalo pulled out of you again, then slipped inside you a little more…so slow and so patient. You felt as if you might melt into the bed or combust as he fucked himself into you, gently stretching you open to fit his girth. Your body welcomed him, albeit nervously as your muscles clenched every so often. But he would ease you with gentle coos and lean down to you to kiss your nose. “That’s it…there you go, princesita, you can take papi…all the way.”

You thought you might die when he was in far enough to stroke against your gspot. You could feel yourself tighten impossibly more around him, and he huffed out an amused laugh as your body threatened to force him out. Lalo pulled from your heat again, watching as your sensitive flesh clung to him, and the round bump that formed in your tummy where his cock was nestled inside you; then his gaze was on yours and he snapped his fingers to ensure your attention. You refocused your eyes and stared up at him.

“Eyes on me.” He murmured.

You nodded, and stared at his glittering black eyes as they bore into yours. Then, he began slipping himself back inside you…so slowly. You could already feel the extreme sensations starting to ripple through you, and as you watched the older man, it was like he knew even before you that you were on the precipice of your orgasm. You almost started to plead with him as he patiently eased the thick shaft into you, the weight of it dragging against every sensitive spot inside you until his hips met yours, and his thick tummy ground against your clit…and you saw stars.

“Cum on papi,cariño…” he purred, “Cum all over me.” He kissed your top lip.

And you let go.

An unrestrained whine tore from your throat as your legs shook and your cunt clenched down on him like a vice. Lalo could feel the sudden rush of your cum over his cock and he continued to grind into you as you rode it out. You didn’t know when, but you felt his warm hands over yours; his fingers locked with yours. Your fingers dug into his knuckles, and your back arched up off the mattress as he patiently fucked you through your orgasm, shallowly pulling out then grinding back inside you.

You could barely hear or see. Everything was cloudy and ringing around you as the extreme pleasure ebbed away and your body went lax.

“There she is.” Lalo grinned, and kissed you. His tongue parted your lips and you wrenched your hands from his and wrapped them around his neck, but you flinched when you touched his bandage there.

Lalo hummed and put your arms back around his neck, “Rip them open ninita, c’mon.” He grinned down at you, and started thrusting into you. There was an obscene sound that came from between you thanks to your powerful orgasm and your cheeks warmed.

“Woah!” He smiled and pushed into you, humming at the feeling of your slick warmth hugging around him. Lalo sighed and leaned over you fullly now, bracing himself on his strong forearms. He sighed, and the air fanned over your face.

“Dios te sientes bien.” The older man purred, and kissed down your neck to your shoulder where he nipped at the skin as he increased his pace. Your body began to bounce under him.

Lalo slipped his hand back under the nape of your neck and held you still as he sucked at your skin and bit down possessively. You whimpered and squirmed but his iron grip held you there. As he slowly released you, he licked at your skin and kissed along your collar. His chest heaved against yours and he returned to your mouth and engulfed your lips again; you parted them without thinking now, and let his warm tongue stroke yours.

Then, he pulled away slowly and stared down at you scorchingly. “Open that pretty mouth.” He gasped.

You parted your lips, and Lalo spat onto your waiting tongue, then leaned back down and kissed you again, hard. You moaned down his throat and he groaned in return. A startling need for eachother had seeded itself in both of you.

He had you so distracted with his mouth that you barely noticed as he started rutting into you until his kiss slowed. Lalo hunkered over you, almost folding you in half and he stared hammering into you fast. There was nothing but the sound of his flesh plaping against yours in the warm motel room, and while you were sensitive, you didn’t want it to stop. In fact, you could feel your sensitive cunt start to tighten around him again, and you were helpless to stop it or even tell him, though he seemed very well aware as he grinned down at you.

“That’s it- that’s it.” He purred, and you let him use you as he needed. His soft tummy impacted your clit with each thrust and you could only babble with need. “I’m- I’m- la- f-f-fu- I’m-“ you couldn’t even get a word out at your second orgasm hit you like a train, and Lalo chuckled low in his chest as he felt you cum for him.

You gripped around him tight, and Lalo groaned low at the sensation. He thrusted a few more times, each one more sloppy and harder than the last until he pushed into you all the way, squishing his tip up against your cervix and let his weight down onto you as he came deep inside you. You rolled your hips with him as he slowed his pace and ground against you. Lalo hummed and panted into your neck, and you held him tight against your body as his thick cum filled you up. You could feel your tummy warm up as he emptied into you, rope after hot rope he coated your insides until some of the sticky liquid leaked out the sides where his cock plugged you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you were terrified that he might have ripped his stitches, but in that moment you didn’t dare say a word. You knew he’d wave you off.

The older man slowly stilled, and stayed inside you comfortably. His heat was comforting, and you clung to his back and stroked his hair gently. Lalo very slowly leaned up off of you, kissing along your collar to your cheeks, and rolled to the side so he wouldn’t crush you. Then, he shuffled something over to you, and lifted your butt up. It was a pillow.

When you looked at him as he raised your hips up, he only sent you a wink.

You couldn’t form a sentence, so you just laid there for a moment before you felt his arm come around your head and pull you into his side. You curled in there, and rested your head on his chest. Your heart beat wracked your entire body- everything pulsed. You couldn’t move. And Lalo noticed how immobile you were.

“What? A mans never made you cum before?” He chuckled. But when you were silent, he looked at you properly. “No…really? That little prick never made a little thing like you cum?” He pushed and you wished the earth would swallow you up.

“No…” you managed to force out.

“God…we have a lot of catching up to do then!”

You stared at him in horror as your body was still recovering from what he had just done to you. And he laughed. “I’m joking- now come here and kiss me. I almost died yesterday y’know.”

You huffed, and leaned up to press a gentler kiss to his mouth. Then leaned back down. You couldn’t even hold your head up.

He kissed your hair, and ran his hand up and down your arm. “Mi pequeña loca.” Lalo purred.

“Mi viejo loco.” You mumbled, and Lalo sat up and away from you enough to look down at you.

You looked at him sheepishly.

“Mocosa.” He smiled, and you returned it.

Lalo enjoyed seeing you like that. Relaxed. Flushed. Sweaty. Fucked out, blissed out, swollen lipped, hair a mess. All for him.

He sighed after a moment, and smacked your hip. “I’m gonna eat you if we don’t get some fucking food.”

You nodded. “What do you have in mind? Fried chicken?” You quipped.

Lalo did a double take, and stared at you dead serious, then burst into laughter. “I knew you were funny.”

You smiled a little and toyed with a little hair on his arm. “How much longer are you going to be here…in Albuquerque?” You mumbled.

“Eh…we’ll stay here a little longer. Keep an eye on my tio…then after that? Think you deserve some real food.” He smiled.

Your brows furrowed and you pulled away to look at him.

“You said you’ve never been to Mexico right?” He said, tracking your eyes.

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Entonces está decidido...after that…I think we could use a Uh…mouth cleanser?” He squinted.

Your heart throbbed still his use of “we”.

“Pallet cleanser?” You offered and he snapped his finger and pointed at you. You smiled.

“Yes! That. Tired of this shit city…you know, I hear Germany is nice.” And he grinned.

He knew he had you.

He embodied the chaos you had grown used to, but portrayed it so calmly. He made you feel safe, and made that little girl you thought you had lost inside you sing. Whatever it was that the two of you shared, you were drawn to it like moths to a flame.

And you knew it.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#lalo salamanca x reader #bcs lalo #better call saul #tony dalton #lalo x reader #lalo salamanca #better call saul imagine #better call saul fanfic #lalo salamanca/reader #breaking bad

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munsonkitten · 1 year

Text

cw: sexual discussions, gender dysphoria (trans Eddie Munson pov), virgin Eddie, mentions of period typical transphobia and homophobia

It comes as a bit of a surprise, when Steve comes out to Eddie as gay. Even more of a surprise when Steve follows it up with and I’m attracted to you. Eddie has to remind him, with clenched teeth, bracing for the impact of rejection, that he doesn’t have the parts Steve wants.

“You think I care what’s in your pants, man? You’re hot, either way. I’m just saying, like, I’d fuck you,” Steve says, blowing smoke into the air in front of him. He’s sitting against the side of Eddie’s bed, hogging the joint Eddie rolled for them both. “I’m also, like, really fucking high. So forget I said all that.”

Eddie reaches over the edge of his bed and snatches the joint back before Steve can bring it to his mouth again.

He takes a hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs while he ruminates on, well, all of that.

“You sure you’re gay?” Eddie asks, settling on that question first. He winces as he says it, his own internal hangups taking hold of him. He knows he’s a man, there’s no doubt about that. He’s been validated to hell and back by Wayne, a bunch of older queers Wayne is friends with, and the one doctor in the state of Indiana that has shown him any kind of compassion.

He just knows how other people are. How, despite him knowing who he is, a lot of people just see him for his cunt and his tits. Well, not like he has much of his tits left, not after the demobats performed a botched mastectomy on him and left him with one and a half breasts. The doctors that put him back together wouldn’t remove the rest. He knows that Steve could just be getting some wires crossed — yes, he could be attracted to Eddie, but Eddie has to ask if it’s really because he’s into men and sees Eddie as a man, or if… If it’s the alternative.

“Pretty sure, man,” Steve answers. He tilts his head back over the edge of the bed and looks at Eddie, where he’s lying against his pillows. “Like, I don’t think about,” he waves vaguely at Eddie’s body, and Eddie knows he’s being careful, like he can’t just talk about him without overthinking each word. “I think about, like, how you pinned me to a wall with a bottle to my throat and I think about how you hotwired that RV. I was definitely into you during both of those things, and I had no idea about, you know.”

And that’s true. Eddie’s been hiding it pretty good since he moved to town. Buzzed his head in his bathroom the day his dad got arrested. Had a pretty good feeling his pops wasn’t coming back from this one before he even left. Usually he took Eddie along with him, but that final time he left him with a pile of change and a phone number and told him to call Wayne if he wasn’t back by the next afternoon.

Wayne took one look at him when he showed up, asked him about the buzzcut, asked him what name he was going by these days, and then took him to meet some friends. Didn’t even have time to meet any other kids before he started getting tips from an older trans man that Wayne met years back. Since then, Eddie kept his head down, his chest bound, and never uttered a sound until he got on testosterone and his voice started to deepen and crack along with all the other boys.

“Okay, well now you do know, so,” Eddie points out. He shrugs, takes another hit and then passes the joint back down to Steve. “You’d really fuck me? Pussy and all?”

“I mean, I’ve got experience with it,” Steve says. “I just don’t like women, is all. You’re not a woman.”

Eddie doesn’t really get it. How Steve can go from Hawkins’ biggest lady killer to lounging on Eddie the freak Munson’s dingy bedroom floor saying he doesn’t like ladies at all. Steve Harrington, who, and it’s no secret, called Jonathan Byers a queer a few years ago and laughed when his slimy friends called other boys fags. Yet here he is, saying that Eddie’s a man. So much of a man that Steve says he’s gay and wants to fuck him in the same breath.

It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

“What about you?” Steve asks. “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Fuck me,” Steve clarifies. “Want to get fucked by me. I mean, hey if you’ve got a dick laying around, I’d let you put it in me, too. I don’t think I’m picky.”

Eddie sighs, dropping his head down to his pillow. This is where it gets tricky. Yeah, he’d have sex with Steve Harrington. Who wouldn’t? But as much experience as Steve has with pussy, Eddie’s a pussy with no experience. Other than a few drunken kisses in dark clubs eighty miles from home, he’s completely terrified of putting himself out there, and honestly for good reason too.

Being gay in this town is hard enough, but if anyone finds out he’s trans, he’s fucking done for. It was scary enough realizing Steve knows, and he didn’t even have a choice in Steve finding out. Next time he tries to die, he’s gonna make sure he gets to a hospital instead of getting his clothes cut off on Steve’s parents’ bathroom floor.

But yeah, Steve knows, and there’s no more risk of him finding out, and that’s pretty much the main reason Eddie hasn’t had sex with anyone, so.

“Yeah, I guess,” he answers.

“Cool,” Steve whispers.

And that’s it. That’s all the conversation is.

Steve crawls into Eddie’s bed and curls up beside him like they always do when he sleeps over, and he takes the joint from Eddie to take one last hit. He reaches over Eddie to put it in the ashtray and then lays back down.

“So, um,” Eddie says. Because he’s confused. He thought Steve was coming onto him. He thought this was a precursor for Steve coming in him.

“What’s up?” Steve asks lazily, voice catching on a yawn.

“Well, I’m glad we established all that, but, like… Are we not going to…?”

“What? Oh, no. I’m way too high,” Steve whispers, turning his face into Eddie’s shoulder. “Another time?”

Eddie laughs because he has no idea how his life became this.

“Sure,” Eddie agrees. “Another time.”

Steve sits up, presses a loud, smacking kiss to Eddie’s temple, and then drops his head back down. He turns his face in toward Eddie’s neck, arm finding its place around Eddie’s waist. Eddie can’t see his face, but he thinks Steve’s pleased smile might just match his own.