#i was looping this song and i had the idea for this and then sat down for about four hours and here it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginesandsmut · 9 months

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So Good

Paring: Ethan Landry x fem reader

Summary: You and Ethan had hated each other since you too met, but when you're at a party dancing with a frat boy, Ethan takes it upon himself to show who you really belong to.

Warnings: Alcohol, smutty smut smut, and some fluff at the end.

Writers note: This was requested by @kianachampion and was definitely a great idea. Don't be shy to send fic ideas my way, ya'll. But anyways, enjoy xx

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You laughed whilst trying to steady your hand, the mascara wand shaking from your movements. The music in Tara’s bedroom was louder than any concert you have ever been to, pounding in your ears and causing you to go slightly deaf.

“Okay but I’m serious,” Tara yelled over the music, “if you don’t wear this skirt, I will kill you. You’ll look so good.”

You turned in your seat at Tara’s desk, turning to see her hold up the shortest skirt of your life. It was tiny, denim, pleated and with a chain dangling from one loop to another. It was cute but you didn’t know if you could pull it off, your ass would definitely be seen if you so much as lifted your arms.

“Please.” Tara tried her puppy dog eyes, pouting her lip in an effort to win you over. “I can’t be the only one wearing something slutty.”

“So you admit it’s too short!” You laugh at her attempt at playing cute.

“It is!” Tara walked over to her bottle of vodka and took a swig, swaying to the music. “But no one will care, it’s a frat party for god sake.”

You both were getting ready for the next rager at whatever Kappa Kappa Fi house it was at, most likely filled with the same people but during this exam season, everyone is looking to blow off some steam.

You could hear Mindy and Anika singing to the song through the walls, they were both in the living room preparing drinks for everybody. Chad and Ethan were somewhere in the apartment, probably hyping each other up by calling each other snacks and grunting.

You turned back to the mirror and inspected your makeup, satisfied with the results you got up and took the mini skirt from Tara’s hand. She clapped her hands dramatically with glee as you took off your sweatpants and replaced them with the skirt, suddenly feeling very cold.

“You look hot.” She pushed you towards the mirror to inspect yourself. The skirt looked nice, your legs looked nice too. You paired it with a graphic baby tee and your beat up tennis shoes.

“You look good too.” You turned to Tara and took the bottle from her, taking a swig as she smiled and twirled her short dress for you.

You enjoyed these moments with your best friend, just smiling and happy. You both met in your first class of University, you were nervous because you hadn’t made any friends in the city yet but the spot next to Tara was empty and you were feeling bold. She smiled at you when you sat down, you smiled back and it was the beginning of your friendship.

“Can you two hurry up now!” Mindy yelled from the kitchen, her voice much louder than the music.

You and Tara giggled at each other, both already buzzed from the few swigs of alcohol. You both left her room and joined the group in the living room, they were all drinking and laughing together. It was moments like this that made you really love your friends.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Except for one.

Ethan was taking in your appearance, a red solo cup filled with whatever alcoholic slushie Anika has made for everyone. His outburst caused everyone to look at you, all of them looking you up and down.

“Damn, you’re hot.” Mindy

“Thank you, Mindy.” You send a scowl at Ethan, the boy sipping his drink with a crease between his eyebrows.

Ever since you became friends with Tara, you became friends with the rest of her friends. The only person you can’t get along with at all is Ethan, he annoys you to knew end and he lets you know that the feeling is mutual. Constantly bickering with each other and fighting over anything possible. Anything that he could make a snide remark about, he does.

“You’re gonna get cold.” Ethan’s voice was a mumble, like he was annoyed with your own choice of clothing.

“I’ll be fine.” You cross the room and grab a drink from Anika, downing it in one go. With just a few words, he managed to get on your nerves and fill you with a need to punch him in the face.

“I’m just saying that it’s just a frat party, not a fashion show.” Ethan continued his attack on you.

“Oh my god, It’s not like you have to wear it.” You turned to look at him, crossing your arms defensively.

“If you bend over everyone is gonna see your ass.”

"So what?" You ask, annoyed and confused as to why he would care.

"God why do you need to be so uptight about everything?" He takes a swig of his drink whilst still taking in your appearance. "You need to loosen up."

"I would if you weren't around."

“Okay!” Tara claps her hands loudly, shutting you both up. “Let’s go.”

The whole walk towards the frat party was filled with you and Tara laughing over something whilst Mindy rambles about the newest Stab movie. But all you could focus on was Ethan walking behind you, way too close behind you. He kept bumping into you from behind and not even apologising for it, just shrugging when you told him off. It wasn't long till you reached the party, pushing your way through the crowd and towards the drinks table, shaking Ethan off your tail.

"Go find some boring person to talk about movies with." You shout at him over the music as he tried following you through the crowd. It was annoying how much he fought with you yet still followed you around, an endless torture cycle.

"I'm just waiting for you to fall and show your ass to the entire party." He shouted back, his frame towering over you.

"God I don't care, just leave."

"I'm not leaving." Ethan looked around the party, obviously trying to find a place for you both to go so you could fight even more. "Let's go to the kitchen over there."

Before he could turn back to face you, you slipped away from his sight and hid behind a group of people. You watched Ethan turn back to where you were supposed to be, the wildy look around to find you. He gave up after a bit and huffed in annoyance, walking over to the kitchen and talking to Chad.

You walked over to another area of the house, hoping to be free of the ever irritating Ethan Landry. The pool table came into your sights and was loaded with bottles, ice and cans. You grabbed the first closed cap you could find and cracked it open, taking a swig and almost gagging at the taste.

“They’re not very good.” A voice behind you spoke, it was slurred but confident. You turned and took in the most stereotypical looking frat boy in your life, complete with the unbuttoned shirt and backwards cap.

Normally, you would wave boys like him off. But you were tipsy and looking to have some fun tonight, so you played into his trap.

“Then what do you recommend?” You put on your most charming smile for him, completed with a slight tip of your head.

“I would try this.” He beamed at you, reaching over and grabbing a bottle from the table. “It tastes like Fanta.”

You take the drink from him and take a sip, nodding your head at the taste. He take your approval with a grin, nodding his own head.

“I’m Luke.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Do you wanna dance, Y/N?” Luke seemed nice and charming, and he wants to dance with you which gives you a big ego boost. “You look so good, I just have to ask.”

You take his hand and let him guide you to the dancefloor in the centre of the house, bodies upon bodies push up against each other in momentum to the song. Luke pulls you close to him, his hands on your hips and moving them with his own. You put your arms around his neck and pull him close, your faces close enough to feel his breath on your cheek.

You look around the room whilst dancing to see what everyone else is doing; Tara was talking to a girl from your classes, Chad was playing beer pong, and Mindy and Anika were already making out on the couch. You looked around subconsciously for Ethan, trying to find him through the crowd.

It was then that you caught his eyes, an ever present scowl across his features. Ethan was sitting on the nearest couch, someone was talking to him but all he could do was focus on you and how close you were to this random frat guy. The drink in his hand long forgotten, the red solo cup gradually getting squeezed harder and harder with every sway of your hips against the guy.

You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was the drinks in your system or the dark look Ethan was giving you, but you decided to put on a show. You turned around in Luke’s arms and pressed your back against his chest, moving your ass against his crotch. The infamous short skirt began riding up with every movement you were making, letting you get bolder and bolder.

You threw your head back and rested it on Luke’s shoulder, looking to the side to make eye contact with Ethan. You could see him shaking his head at you, obviously annoyed about something like he always is. He was leaning back on the couch, arms crossed against his chest, manspreading like owns the place.

Luke was gripping you harder, his breathing heavy as he groaned at your movement in your ear. You smiled to yourself for doing this to him, but you felt like it was all wrong, like he wasn't the person you wanted him to be.

“Can’t believe I haven’t seen you around before.” Luke’s voice was low, distracted by everything you’ve been doing.

You don’t reply, you felt mechanic against Luke, like his very touch made you feel wrong in every way. Your eyes kept drifting to Ethan, trying to peek at his reaction. The boy in question was now resting his elbows on his knees, bent over and giving every bit of his attention to what you were doing.

His jaw was tense, like he was going to crack a tooth from the pressure. His eyes were dark and focused, like nothing else in the world cared to him but watching you. The person next to him kept rambling on about whatever conversation they were previously on, but Ethan didn’t care.

Ethan didn’t know what was coming over him, it was like he was taken over by a force of anger and jealousy. Everytime he was with the group, you annoyed him to no end and he made sure you knew it. He never once thought of you in any way but the annoying girl in the group. But now, seeing you dance with another guy, all he wanted was to grab you and pull you onto the couch with him.

Luke’s lips attached themselves to your neck since you already had it stretched out trying to get a look at Ethan. His breath was hot and his lips felt weird on your skin, like he was trying too hard to make it sensual but it felt rushed and timid. You pretended to lean into it, like it was what you wanted.

That’s what set off Ethan.

He pushed himself off from the couch and made his way through the crowd, not even looking at the people he moved out of his way. You could feel him getting closer, like there was a pull he had on you and you could tell when he was away or too close.

A hand reached out and pulled you from Luke, earning a gasp from you and an annoyed yell from him. Ethan was gripping onto your arm like you were going to disappear, his eyes stared at you with disgust.

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” Luke threw his arms up, confused as to why someone would interrupt him.

“Don’t touch her.” Ethan stopped looking at you and turned his attention on the frat boy, yet his grip on your arm never ceased.

“Why? You her boyfriend or something?” Luke laughed, pushing Ethan’s chest.

“No, he’s not.” You tried to wiggle your arm out of Ethan’s hold but with every movement you made, his hold on you tightened. You’re sure that you’re gonna get bruises soon if he doesn’t let go.

Ethan sent daggers your way at your outburst, like it was anything far from the truth and he was surprised by it. Luke laughed at your reply and stepped closer to Ethan, challenging him.

“So what are you? Some sad friend that couldn't get any from her?” Luke’s voice was mean and his demeanour was scary, different from the charming way he was talking to you. It reminded you why you steer clear of guys like him at parties, and now Ethan’s hold was feeling a little more comforting.

Ethan didn’t say anything to Luke, instead he just turned to look at you. You looked back at him but you couldn’t describe the look in his eyes, like he had someone to tell you but couldn’t voice it.

“Let’s go.” His voice was small and quiet, but demanding.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Luke was looking at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to shrug off Ethan.

You looked back at Ethan, he wasn't waiting for you to say anything, probably preparing to drag you away no matter what you said. You could feel some eyes on the three of you, watching to see what would happen. You turned to Luke and apologised before pushing on Ethan’s chest and taking him into the nearest private room.

You shut the door behind both of you, effectively shutting out the party and the music. You looked around the room, a small study with books lining the walls. It would be nice if you weren’t pissed off.

You looked at Ethan who could only look down at his feet, a wave of nervousness overtaking the confident facade he just had on.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” You tried to keep your voice down but the anger was bubbling over the surface.

Ethan didn’t even look at you, just shrugging his shoulders in response.

“You have been acting like a total dick all night, more than usual.” You continue, running your hands through your hair. “And now you’re being a dick to others, seriously? Why do you have to ruin everything good in my life?”

Still, no answer.

“Are you going to say something?”

It was a quick decision for Ethan, one that he's been wanting to do for ages but had only seemed to have gotten the courage to do it now. He made the few steps towards you, closing the gap and reaching up to cup your face, all before crashing his lips onto yours.

It was sudden, him pressing his lips onto yours. You wanted to fight, to push him away and tell him off. You wanted to tell him off for the whole night and all of his antics, but you stayed still and let him kiss you. It was hungry, feverish, like he was expecting you to push him away and he knew it was going to be the last time.

It wasn’t until you slipped your hands into his hair and pulled him closer that he finally relaxed, moaning into your mouth and pushing his body closer to yours. He backed you up against the door, pressing his hips to yours to cage you in.

You hated yourself for what you were doing, knowing that you might hate yourself in the morning. But right now, kissing Ethan, it was all you wanted.

“Couldn’t handle seeing you with that other guy.” He whispered against your lips, kissing you between almost every word.

You didn’t say anything, just wanting to live in this moment forever because you didn’t know how long it’ll last, he might start fighting with you as soon as you back away. You tugged on his curls, earning a groan from him and a thrust of his hips against yours. It was getting hotter and heavier every moment that your mouths were on each other, losing all thoughts of how much you were supposed to hate him.

“The only way I thought you’d look at me was if I was mean to you.” Ethan’s lips latched themselves onto your neck, sucking and biting every bit of skin he could get to. “But seeing you with him, I just wanted him to know that you’re mine.”

“Ethan.” It was like you were dumb, you couldn’t think of anything else but his mouth on your neck and his hands on your hips, gripping them as if you were going to run away.

“If you knew how much I wanted you, you would have ran away.” He was rambling, speaking to you as if you weren’t listening.

“I wanted you too.” Maybe it was the drinks or the dancing, but your tongue felt loose and you split every thought you had to him. “I did all of that for you.”

He couldn’t say anything else, too turned on by your words and your hands tugging on his hair. His hands moved down to your thighs, gripping the exposed skin and chuckling at how you were trying to stifle your moans. His hands trail upwards underneath the skirt and to your underwear, caressing your hips with his thumbs.

“This fucking skirt.” His mouth moved to hover just above yours, your neediness made it almost impossible to focus on his words. “I wanted to rip it off you the moment I saw it, tried blocking you from everyone on the street during the walk here.”

“Is that why you hate it?” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks and taking in how pretty he really was for the first time. “Because you love it so much?”

“I wanted to take you back into Tara’s room and show you a reason why you shouldn’t wear it.” His eyes were laser focused on you, you were almost scared to look away. “Now I guess I’ll have to show you here.”

“What do you mean?”

Before any more words could leave your mouth, Ethan’s thigh wedged its way between your legs, the rough material of his jeans pressing against the flimsy fabric of your thin underwear. Your moan caught you by surprise, Ethan grinned wildly at it and was determined to hear more,

“Want you to get off on my leg.” His voice was low and hesitant, like he was waiting to see how you would react to him being demanding with you when you would normally tell him off. But all you could do was nod and start grinding on his thigh, the jean material rubbing against your clit and causing you to go a little hazy.

Ethan was much taller than you so his thigh between your legs caused you to stand practically on your tippy toes, the only anchor you had was his shoulders. You nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his shirt, using them to help you drag your pussy over his thigh. The sensation was making you desperate, you could feel him flexing his thigh every time you moved your hips forward, making then feeling on your clit so much better.

“If only the group could see how needy you are for me.” Ethan’s hands were on your jaw, holding your head up so he could see your face properly, grinning to himself at how your face scrunches up every time your clit feels a particularly good part of his thigh. “They would be so surprised to know that all that hate you had for me was just masking your true feelings.”

“What feelings are those?” Your voice was breathy and almost silent, you had never felt like this before.

“The feeling of wanting to fuck me, wanting me to fuck you.” Ethan’s lips ghosted your cheeks, kissing them after every moan you tried to silence. “If only you told me earlier, baby, that you wanted me. I would have helped you out, I will do anything for you.”

You don’t know why but those words spurred you on, causing you to pick up your pace and grind yourself on his thigh faster. Ethan could see you needed help and placed his hands on your hips, ready to help you. But before he did anything, he stopped you, much to your dismay as you let him know with a needy whine.

“Tell me you want me.” His voice was no longer cute and joking, he was serious.

“Ethan.” You whined and tried to move your hips again, but his hold on you was too strong and bruising.

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

You looked at him, his eyes dark and tough. As much as you two bickered and fought, he had never looked at you like this, it scared you a little. But the way he was holding you, the words he was speaking, it was all so hypnotic that all you could do was follow his instructions.

“I’m yours, Ethan.” It scared you more that you knew you meant it, you had known it for a long time but this was the first time admitting it. “I have always been. Now please, make me feel good.”

The last part was what got Ethan, the desperation in your voice and the way your hands clung to his hair like he was all you needed in the world, it felt him with a sense of pride. His hands started moving your hips for you, helping you drag yourself over his thigh. It was all so delicious, the feeling of your own lace underwear and his rough denim on your sensitive clit, the groans he was letting go in your ear, his lips on your shoulder blade.

“You look so good, baby.”

You smiled at the compliment, biting your lip as your eyes closed. The sight made Ethan almost cum there, how happy and hot you looked riding his thigh. He could look at your face all day.

Then, Ethan picked up his pace, dragging your hips over him with a new found speed, added to the sensation of him flexing and bouncing his knee to stimulate your pussy even more. One of his hands left your hip and went under your top and bra, groping your boob and tugging your nipple.

It was all too much; the feeling of him on your clit, his cold fingers pinching your nipples and his mouth sucking hickies on your neck. You swore that if you had any thoughts apart from you and him, you would be embarrassed that the party was hearing how loud your moans were.

Ethan could tell you were getting closer from the tugging on his hair to the stuttered motion of your hips, you were starting to lose all control. Ethan crashed his lips back onto yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a messy show of dominance, wanting you to know who was making you feel this good.

“Come on, baby.” His breath was hot against your lips, and you couldn’t wait till he kissed you again. “I know you’re close.”

“Mhmm.” All you could to was whine, the feeling within you getting tighter and tighter the long you grinded on him. It wasn’t until Ethan took his hand from your hip and dipped it into your underwear, rubbing your clit in lazy circles and you feverishly thrusted against him

“Good girl.” He almost laughed at how whiney you were, so different to how mean you are to him in front of your friends. “Let go for me, let everyone know who’s making you feel good, yeah?”

The band within you snapped and you came with a cry on Ethan’s thigh and fingers, their own assault on you never ceasing and he continued to rub your clit and help you move your hips on him, allowing your orgasm to drag out.

He took in your face, so blissed out in ecstasy, he kissed you hard. You smiled into the kiss, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer, not wanting the moment to end. You were scared about what was going to happen when you got off his thigh and left the room; would you two go back to fighting as usual or did this spark some change within him.

“Come back to my dorm?” Ethan’s tone was now nervous and unsure, and yet his demeanour remind confident. “I wanna see you in my bed, naked. Be away from the crowd so you can chant my name.”

Ethan watched your face, waiting for you to say something, anything. He was nervous too that you were going to push him away and act like this was a one time thing, he wanted it to be more, for both of you to be more. Fighting with you was the only way he was able to get your full attention, and so he did it because he had no other choice. But now, knowing that you like him back, he wanted you to be his.

“Okay.” You looked up at him and touched his lip with your thumb, a soft gesture but it caused him to melt.

“Yeah?’ His smile was contagious, causing you to grin yourself.

“Yeah.”

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream #scream 6 smut #scream 6 #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #scream imagine

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inthe-dark-tonight · 4 months

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what she wants, anywhere

frankie morales x f!reader

summary: trying to hide the fact that you're horny from frankie while on an international flight leads to unexpectedly joining the mile high club

word count: 4.4k

warnings: E (18+ mdni!!!) dubcon, smut, porn w very little plot, pet names, established relationship, unsafe p in v, airplane sex, slight breeding kink (special just for cami hehe) creampie, reader uses frankie's hand to try and get off, no mention of age gap so read how you’d like :)

notes: this idea has been in my head for a few months but I never really knew how i wanted to write it, then an unreleased harry styles song came on shuffle (complicated freak - iykyk) and that just kinda fed the brainrot even more and…. now here we are. i'm also very aware that this is pretty unrealistic but it's fic so!! also let's pretend that airplane bathrooms aren't super gross i'm sorry. thank you to the loml @javiscigarette for always beta reading and listening to my insane rambling, i don’t know what i would do without you and our single shared braincell ILYSM xo

i also hit a new follower milestone this past week so i just want to say an extra big thank you to everyone that reads, likes, comments, reblogs or follows 🤍 enjoy!! :)

You and Frankie have had this trip planned for almost 6 months now, the two of you needing a vacation from work and day to day life. Now the only thing standing between the two of you and a week long vacation in Italy is an eight and a half hour flight.

From the second you got to the airport you were on edge, worried about your bags, your tickets, your passports, if you had forgotten anything in your carry on, up until you got to security when you finally calmed down. When you got up to the belt, Frankie grabbed a few plastic bins throwing both of your carry ons into one as you removed your jacket and shoes. As you stuffed everything into your bin, you glanced over at him, watching him intently as he started to take his jacket off.

You watched the way his biceps flexed as he slipped his jacket off of his broad shoulders and tossed it into the bin. Next he removed his hat, running his calloused fingers through his tousled curls, pushing them back before preparing to remove his belt. At that point you were noticeably gawking at him, watching the way his thick fingers unfastened his belt buckle before rapidly pulling it out the belt loops of his jeans and tossing it into the bin as well.

He looked over at you, giving you a quick once over before asking, “That everything?”

You weren’t able to conjure up any words, just a quick mhm and a nod of your head as you two moved forward. When he stepped into the metal detector, your eyes were glued to him the whole time. As he lifted his hands above his head, his shirt lifted the slightest bit, causing a small sliver of his soft tummy to peek out. A warmth started to build deep in your core from that moment forward.

Once the two of you were through security, he slipped his belt back on followed by his jacket. You swiped his hat before he could grab it, quickly stuffing it into your carry on.

He laughed, head tilting to the side as the dimple on his cheek deepened. “C’mon” he shot you a look. “Give it.” He held his large hand out towards you.

“We’re inside now, don’t need it.” You smiled at him sweetly, a warmth blooming in your chest as his eyes met yours.

He grunted, grabbing your bags with a small smile still plastered on his face before turning to walk towards your gate. Your eyes are glued to him as you walk, keeping a few steps behind him.

By the time you finally sit down at your gate, the heat in your lower stomach has grown even more and Frankie is painfully unaware of the way you’re watching him, desire growing each second. The terminal was crowded and there weren’t many seats, so you sat across from him a bit upset at the distance while also enjoying the view of your man.

You sit across from him with a book in your hand, legs crossed as you peeked up over the top of your book every now and then to admire him. He was leaning back in the chair, one arm on the armrest and the other casually resting between his legs, right where you want him most. His legs were spread wide, hair perfectly tousled, one leg bouncing from nerves and brows furrowed as he focused on something on his phone. How could you possibly not stare?

He caught you once, eyes lingering on him a little too long, causing heat to rise from for chest up to your cheeks. Your eyes roamed up his body, checking him out, before locking with his own as he shifted in his seat.

Hm? He raised his brows, a smirk growing on his face.

You quickly shook your head, looking back down at your book as a shy smile formed on your face.

Boarding the plane went by quickly. You stood close to him as you waited for your group to be called and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The comforting feeling of his warm body pressed against yours worked you up even more, if that was even possible, and Frankie held your hand the whole time during take off.

Now you're seated on the plane, his thigh resting against yours, fighting the urge to keep your hands off of him and satisfy the throbbing need in your core. He’s surely noticed the way you’ve been squirming in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs a million times and the not so subtle staring.

You turn on the screen in front of you, switching to the live map and checking the time on the screen. It’s only been 45 minutes, this is going to be impossible. You clear your throat and let out a deep sigh as you look out the window at the dark sky, only a small peek of blue light shining over the horizon now.

“What’s wrong?” Frankie’s soft voice in your ear startles you slightly as you turn to see him leaning in close to you. “You nervous?” He moves his hand to rest on your thigh.

You swallow before answering. “No.” You blurt out causing him to raise his brow in curiosity. “I mean, it’s not that.” Your eyes land on his lips after the last word leaves your mouth.

“Then what is it?” He rubs your thigh lightly and you bite the inside of your cheek.

He sounds concerned, but there’s no way you’re telling him that you’re horny with 7 hours left of this flight. All you can do is hope that as the time passes the ache in your core dulls, or better yet goes away.

“Just-“ you try to think of an excuse on the spot. “Excited actually.” You smile up at him and he returns it, the dimple on his cheek growing.

“We’ll be there soon baby, the flight will be over before you know it.” He lifts his hand from your thigh and rests it on your cheek, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb before pecking your lips.

You nod in agreement, closing your eyes as you toss your head back and lean into your seat. If he only knew.

You’ve been looking out the window for who knows how long, the lights in the cabin are low, almost completely off now, and the flight attendants haven’t walked up the aisles in almost half an hour. You look at the time on your phone again, only two hours in, how is that possible? The ache in your core hasn’t subsided.

You look over at Frankie watching a movie on the screen in front of him, Top Gun, before reaching for your carry-on bag under the seat in front of you. You grab the sweater you stuffed into it and throw it across your lap.

“Cold?” Frankie’s voice is soft yet gravely as he leans in close to you, whispering for just the two of you to hear.

You look at him, eyes slightly widening. “Yeah.” You aren’t lying, the cabin is chilly, but that’s only half of the truth.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he takes in your features in the low light. You scoot closer to him, leaning into his side as you get comfortable. Frankie smiles and plants a kiss on your temple before turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. You lay your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his bicep as you watch the movie with him.

It’s not long before you’re distracted again, letting go of your grip on his arm and laying back in your seat. Your eyes linger on the way his pants hug his thighs. He’s not wearing his jacket anymore, the way he’s sitting with his arms crossed give you a full view of his strong forearms and biceps.

You’re not sure how much longer you can ignore the heat pooling in your stomach. You decide to test something and reach your right hand over to rub the side of his thigh, resting there for a moment. He doesn’t move, eyes still on the screen, and you take that as a sign to keep going. You slowly inch closer towards where his cock is confined in his pants, resting your hand on the inside of his thigh and keeping it there for a few moments. He doesn’t react, but you hear his breathing picking up.

As you start to rub small circles on the inside of his thigh and inch ever so slightly closer to where his member is hidden, he grabs your wrist.

“What are you doing?” He whispers.

His large hand is still wrapped around your wrist as you lean in, resting your chin on his shoulder as you look up at him. “Nothing.” That’s a lie, and he knows it.

“Querida...” His eyes burn through you as he stares back at you. He knows.

You clear your throat and tilt your head up to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been worked up since we went through security.”

“Hm.” He nods his head, the deep vibration causes goosebumps to raise on your skin.

You pull back and he looks into your eyes again. His hand finds yours on your lap, warm as it wraps around yours and squeezes lightly.

“Once we land and get to the hotel, promise.” He raises his hand to rest on your cheek and plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

You let out a small sigh as his hand moves from yours to rest on his lap and you turn to look out the window, trying to distract yourself from the pool of heat that burns in the pit of your stomach.

You’re not sure how much time has passed now, when you look over at Frankie his eyes are shut, mouth slightly parted as you admire his features. A small smile forms in your face as your eyes roam over him, landing on his hand still resting on his lap.

At that exact moment, an idea comes to your mind. Something that could possibly give you a small amount of relief. For now. It’s not your best idea, but it could work.

You look back up at his face as you reach over to rest your hand over his, he doesn’t open his eyes. You stay still for a moment, making sure you won’t wake him from the movement. When you think the time is right, you lift his hand, quickly resting it on your lap. Your eyes land on where his hand now lays over your sweater on your lap, so close to the dull thrumming at your core. You bite your lip and look back over to be sure he hasn’t woken up, you smile at the way his soft lashes rest on the tops of his cheeks as he rests, a warmth spreading through your chest.

You keep your eyes on him as you slowly move his hand underneath where your sweater lays to rest on your inner thigh. His warm hand burns straight through the fabric of your pants, causing your skin to heat up from the touch, and your stomach to churn. He still hasn’t opened his eyes, so you take that as a safe sign to keep going, slowly moving his hand up your thigh until it rests over your clothed heat.

A low whimper escapes your throat and your eyes widen at the realization, looking back over at where Frankie lays with his eyes shut. You watch him take a deep breath, letting out a sigh as he shifts slightly in his seat, head rolling slightly to the side as he stirs. You stay still for a few seconds, making sure he hasn’t woken from your movements.

You look away from him, back to where his hand is touching you under your sweater, and you begin to press the heel of his hand into your clothed cunt. You let out a long, relieved breath from your nose and your eyes fall shut. The pressure of his large warm hand resting over your sensitive nub is just enough to give you some of the relief you were looking for, but it’s not enough.

You take a deep breath before grinding yourself against the palm of his hand in a slow rocking motion that causes the seam of your pants to rub over your clit. Trying your best to be quiet, you bite into your cheek as your hips buck forward. A low groan escapes your throat and you let out a shaky breath.

You're lost in the moment, relishing in the feeling of his large, warm hand resting over your clothed sex as you grind into it. Suddenly you feel him move and your heart leaps into your throat. His arm tenses up, hand grabbing at your clothed cunt as he applies more pressure than before. Your eyes fly open wide and you turn to look into his own. Heavy lidded as a small smirk forms on his face in the dim lighting, he leans in closer to you.

“Bathroom at the back of the plane. I’ll be there in five.” He says slowly, just above a whisper.

You blink, mouth agape as his words sink in. “W-what?” You watch the way his chest rapidly rises and falls as you wait for his response.

“Now.” He presses harder into your clothed core before pulling his hand away.

You let out a gasp, reaching for your seat buckle as fast as you can before standing up. As you squeeze past him and make your way into the aisle, you take a quick glance around to look for the flight attendants. They're nowhere to be found, and as you walk towards the back of the plane you notice that almost everyone on the plane is asleep, has their nose in a book or eyes glued to something on the screen in front of them. You try not to walk too quickly as you make your way towards the back of the plane where the vacancy sign is glowing brightly.

Your heart is racing and you feel giddy as you approach the door, pulling it open and stepping inside before closing it behind you. As you wait in the small stall for Frankie, you stand there for a moment with your back against the door, eyes falling shut as you take a deep breath in anticipation for what may happen next. Then you hear a light knocking on the door, causing you to flinch as you reach to pull the door open.

Without giving you a second to think, Frankie pushes the door open causing you to step back, closing the door behind him and locking it before guiding you towards the sink. It's a tight fit with the two of you in there but right now you could care less. He presses close to you, causing your lower back to press into the small plastic sink as his hand flies down to grab you where you're wet and aching for him, the other grabbing your wrist.

He leans in, nose grazing your cheek before speaking low in your ear. “This what you wanted?” His voice sends a shock straight to your core as he applies more pressure where he's caressing your clothed core, causing a moan to slip from your mouth.

“Frankie,” you say breathlessly.

“Shhh.” his hand leaves your wrist to lightly cover your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me baby, don’t want anyone to catch us committing a fucking felony now do we?” A small smirk covers his lips and your chest flutters with excitement at his words.

You look up at him with wide eyes and shake your head, then he removes his hand from your mouth and plants a needy kiss to your lips. Your eyes close and you melt into it, hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue parts your lips to tangle with your own. You press against him, slightly bucking your hips to feel the growing bulge in his pants. He groans before breaking the kiss, pulling away to catch his breath as his eyes roam over you. His large hands grab at your waist as he looks back into your eyes.

“Turn around.” you do as he says, turning your back to him and pressing your hips flush against the tiny sink while your hands grab onto the edge bracing yourself.

Frankie’s large hands land back on your hips, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans to rest on your ass for a moment, squeezing lightly before moving back to your hips. he presses his hardening cock into your ass and lets out a low grunt as your eyes flutter shut, your head falling forward as you sigh.

His hands leave your hips and you hear the sound of his belt buckle. “Gotta make this quick.” his voice is low and gruff, you lift your head to look at him through the mirror in front of you.

You watch him as he looks down between the two of you to unbutton his own jeans, stray curls falling onto his forehead. His muscles flex, the fabric of his shirt stretching as he pulls his jeans down just enough for his cock to spring out. His head snaps back up, dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror. His hands snake around to the front of you, reaching for the button on your pants, his thick fingers moving quickly to undo it before pulling at your zipper.

His eyes never leave yours as he tugs your pants down just enough to expose the soft skin of your ass along with your soaked heat. Your mouth falls open as his hand moves towards your core and you stifle a moan as his fingers start to glide through your slick folds, his other hand resting back on your hip.

“Been thinking about me filling you up this whole time, huh?” You take in a deep breath, pressing your lips together as you try to hold in a moan. “Thinking about me filling you to the fucking brim with my cum?”

You frantically nod your head, unable to form a single word. Frankie watches you through the mirror as your head falls back onto his shoulder and you press yourself back into him. A small gasp leaves your mouth as you feel his stiff cock press against your bare ass. He starts to rub small, slow circles on your clit and you raise your head to look at him through the mirror again. Your eyes immediately meet with his having never left you, and you watch him as he leans in closer to you.

“Wish there was time for me to taste this perfect pussy.” His nose grazes the side of your cheek, his low voice vibrating through your whole body.

You bite your lip trying to keep quiet, squeezing your eyes shut as he applies more pressure to your swollen clit. You also wish there was time. He plants a kiss on your neck, scruff slightly scratching you as his warm lips press against your skin. It’s like he read your mind.

“Once we get to the hotel, I promise.” He lightly squeezes your hip, pulling his other hand away from your sensitive nub causing you to hold your breath. “Bend over for me baby.”

You do as he says, bracing yourself on the sink once again as you slightly lean forward. One of his hands stays on your hip, the other lines his cock up with your soaking wet entrance. Your eyes are still glued to him in the mirror, your beautiful man. He’s focused as you watch him, and when you feel his tip slowly start to press in, you watch the way his face relaxes. You close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of him slowly filling you to the brim.

“Fuck.” You watch as his head falls back, a blissful look on his face. “Feel so good cariño.”

He stays still for a moment, taking in the feeling of your wet cunt pulsing around him. You’re not sure how long you’ve been in here, but you know that the two of you should hurry up before someone notices what’s going on. You wiggle your ass back and forth against Frankie to try and get his attention as you bite your bottom lip while looking up at him through the mirror.

He lifts his head up, dark eyes meeting with yours. A deep almost growl comes from deep in his chest as he pulls out and slams his cock back into you. Your body jolts forward, mouth falling open as you brace yourself for his brutal pace. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you bringing you so close to the release you’ve been waiting for.

You watch him in the mirror, transfixed on the way his biceps strain the fabric of his shirt as he holds onto your waist for dear life. The feeling of his cock splitting you open so perfect. He leans down and wraps an arm around your torso, pulling you to stand straight up with your back against him as he continues to fuck you at the same brutal pace.

His hand roams over your body and his eyes follow, finding the hem of your shirt as he slips his large hand beneath it. You press further back into him, a sigh leaving your mouth at the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

“Francisco…” You murmur.

His hand continues to travel up your body, leaving goosebumps in its trail up towards your breasts. You suck in a breath as his hand finds the cup of your bra, slipping underneath to caress the soft skin of your breast. He’s still staring at you in the mirror, tracing over your soft skin and curves with his eyes as he moves his hand to lift your shirt up to your chin.

“So beautiful,” he whispers right beside your ear. “Look at you.”

You’re just looking at him, the way his large hand is splayed over your chest, the light flush on his cheeks from being cramped in this stuffy bathroom, and the way his hair has fallen over his forehead. The coil in your stomach is ready to snap, any second now as he slows down his thrusts. He can feel it, the way your walls flutter around his thick cock. His hand slides back down your chest, stopping to rest on your stomach as he holds you against him.

“Come for me, come on baby.” His deep voice travels straight through you to your core.

“Oh my-” Frankie’s hand flys up to cover your mouth before you can finish.

“Shhh, quiet.” The vibration of his deep voice whispering in your ear sends you over the edge and a white hot feeling spreads through your body, radiating from your core as your orgasm takes over.

“There you go.” He whispers, nose grazing your cheek as he speaks.

Your hand reaches behind you to pull at the curls on the nape of his neck and you squeeze around him as your orgasm comes to an end. He lets out a deep moan as he buries his face into your neck, muffling the sound. He thrust one last time, stopping when he bottoms out, hot cum spurting out and filling you up. His shoulders rise and fall as he catches his breath, head still buried in your shoulder and your head lays back on his. Both of his arms are wrapped around your torso and you rest yours over his, squeezing his forearms lightly as he stays there for a moment longer, making sure all of his seed stays put.

He kisses your neck before lifting his head up and looking between the two of you as he pulls out, pulling your underwear back on quickly to make sure his come stays put. His hands rest on your hips as you fix your shirt. You slide your pants back on and spin around to face him as he buttons his pants, watching the way his fingers move. A smile forms on your face as you watch him, a warmth growing in your chest.

“Hm?” He looks up at you through his lashes as he fixes his belt.

You shake your head, reaching to rest your hands on his shoulders as you kiss him. He sucks in a deep breath, making a content sound as he kisses you back and wraps his arms tightly around you. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes roam your features before speaking.

“We should go back.” One of his hands comes up to caress your cheek and he pecks your lips one last time.

“You go first.” You lean into his touch, squeezing his broad shoulders.

His thumb rubs your cheek before pulling away and turning to pull the door open. He slips out, quietly closing the door behind him. Once he’s gone you turn towards the mirror to fix yourself up and wash your hands before going back to your seat. You replay what just happened in your mind as you wait a few minutes to leave.

Once you think it’s safe to leave, you slip back out into the dark cabin. You glance around, still no flight attendants in sight as you make your way back to the aisle where Frankie is sitting and waiting for you. A smirk forms on his face as you squeeze in front of him to take your seat at the window. You get comfortable, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand finds a spot on your lap and you close your eyes. As you start to drift off you feel Frankie shift in his seat.

“Don’t think I forgot about my promise either.” He whispers for just you to hear.

Your chest flutters, a quiet laugh leaves your mouth before you drift to sleep. Only 5 more hours, you’re almost sure you can wait this time.

thank you for reading <3 any feedback is appreciated and my asks are open!! xo

tagging a few moots: @ilovepedro @gracieheartsspedro @sapphic-gardn @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pr0ximamidnight @daydreamingmiller @hearteyesforjoel <3

#frankie morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fic #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie triple frontier

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battymommastuff · 11 months

Text

The Loop [Happy Birthday]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Your husband and children decide to throw you a surprise birthday party. What could possibly go wrong?

TW : DARK THEMES AND DEATH

When it came to your birthday, it was more you treating your family. Instead of breakfast in bed with a bouquet of flowers, your family was greeted with a massive breakfast. Every time they told you that it was unnecessary; They were more than capable of making you breakfast.

Every year you never asked for anything for your birthday. You had everything you could ever want. What more could you ever need?

"Breakfast was amazing Y/N!" Barbara said as she sat in the kitchen with you while you washed the dishes. Another tradition on your birthday was to give Alfred a day off. Sometimes he wondered if it was his birthday instead of yours.

"Thank you, darling." You said with a small laugh. While Barbara kept you company, down below in the batcave; The rest of your family were hard at work.

"Father, I think this object can wait. Mother's balloons need to be blown up." Damian said as he held a purple balloon in his hands. He, Dick, and Jason were busy blowing up balloons for the surprise party tonight. Almost everyone in the city had been invited, and it was going to be the party of the decade. Everything had to be perfect for you.

"There was a reason that Ra's wanted this, and I'm going to figure it out." Bruce said as he studied the mysterious object in his hands. Damian felt a slight twinge in his heart after hearing his grandfather's name. Being here so long, he sometimes forgot about that part of his life. He preferred this one so much more.

"There's plenty of time to figure it out. I'm sure the mystery will still be here after tonight." Duke said as he took the object from Bruce. He examined it curiously then set it down on a nearby table. He was the only one that hadn't been there that night when it was taken from the League of Assassins

Bruce let out a huff before he turned around and looked at each of the people he'd come to see as his children.

"What do you need me to do first?"

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No one will ever know how she managed to do it, but Cass somehow got you to dress completely formal. She managed to do this while not giving away the surprise. She just acted like she wanted to play dress up with you as a way to bond. Next, she was dragging you down the hallway to 'take a picture'. When you got to the top of the staircase, you were met with a decorated room and a large crowd.

"SURPRISE!"

Your hand flew to your chest as you looked at everyone in shock, then back to Cass who held a smirk on her face. "You sneaky little thing." You cooed while squishing her cheeks between your pointer finger and thumb. You were soon joined by your family in a massive group hug. Damian was in high protest to this idea, but refused to be the one furthest from you. He wiggled his way into your arms causing Bruce to be pushed out of the way.

The party went on perfectly. Each one of your children danced with you to a different song, and your smile didn't leave your face. This was a night that you were going to remember for the rest of your life. It was another reminder of why you loved your family so much. Your final dance before you would take a little break was with Barbara.

You held her hands as the both of you swayed as best you could with her in her wheel chair. At first she denied your request to dance for that very reason, but you wouldn't let her skip out on the fun.

Barbara was the first to notice a little red dot climbing it's way up your body. Jason was the second, "Mom! Get down!" He yelled as Barbara put her hands on your hips to push you down. It was too late...

The sound of glass shattering halted the entire party as a bullet whizzed into the room and headed right for you.

The blood...

The screaming...

The chaos....

Every Wayne family member stood frozen as they watched your body collapse to the ground. A bullet hole right between your eyes. Such accuracy. Your family couldn't shake the shock they felt. This couldn't be real, you couldn't be dead...

Barbara being the closest to you looked down at her dress which had a small blood splatter on it from the bullet entering your body. Her eyes are as wide as saucers, and her skin paler than snow. She watched a pool of blood form around your head and the front of her wheelchair. Her ears ringing from the shock she felt having witnessed this so close.

Dick was the first one to you after he found the will to move. He collapsed on the ground, not caring if blood was staining his suit pants. "Mom? Mom!" He cried out hoping that you were somehow still alive. The bullet went clean through, and he could see the blood pool through the hole. He clutched your body in his arms hoping that you would hold him in return.

One by one your children crowded around your corpse. Each one of them saying their own prayer in hopes you would come back. Each one of them talking to your lifeless body hoping for a response. All they got was a lifeless stare.

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Jim Gordon approached Dick slowly. He had Damian tucked under his arm as the young boy hid his face in his older brother's chest. He didn't want the news to see him crying, but everyone knew that he was. "We have to take her body in for an autopsy. Can you get him to let us take her?" He asked gently then gestured to Bruce.

He was sitting in the drying blood pool with your body in his arms. Tears streamed down his face as his mind flashed back to the night he lost his parents. Him holding his mother's body in the same way that he was holding yours. He blamed himself for his parent's death, and now he was blaming himself for yours. If he hadn't married you, then you would be alive. You would be safe. Of course he wouldn't be. He wouldn't have the love of his life, but your fate wouldn't have been this.

"Bruce? They need to take her body." Stephanie said as she crouched down next to him. Her hand hesitantly rested on his shoulder. She watched as Bruce shook his head, and held you closer to his chest. He heard them unzipping the body bag, and he couldn't bring himself to let you go. Stephanie looked to Tim, who had been standing with Jason and Duke. Jason hadn't said a word since the police arrived. Duke was staying by his side to make sure he wasn't going to do something reckless.

After some more convincing, Bruce finally allowed himself to be separated from you. He watched as they picked your body up, and put it into the bag. He felt the bile rise into his throat as the zipper slowly covered your body.

The family gathered around each other to comfort one another. They found themselves in the same group hug, but instead of laughter and love, it was filled with sorrows and sobs.

"S-Sir...this was left for you." Alfred said as he held a music box in his hand. His hands were shaking as he tried to hold himself together. Alfred knew someone had to be strong, and he wasn't going to let it be any of the people he called family. Bruce stepped forward to take the music box. He opened it, and a clock slowly lifted up and the hands started spinning. A sweet song filled the air, and the Batfamily felt their eyes start to droop.

"What's going on?" Tim asked as he leaned on Stephanie for support. Barbara was the first one to succumb to the powerful feeling. Her body slumped and then fell out of her chair. Dick tried to get to her, but he passed out as well. One by one each member fell to the ground seemingly in a deep sleep. Bruce was the last, he collapsed to the ground with the last thing he saw being the music box.

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Bruce shot up with a gasp, and looked around frantically. He was in his bed, in his pajamas. He looked at the time, and it was six in the morning. He looked over to your side of the bed where he saw that it was messy. As if you had just gotten up. His eyes then moved to the bathroom door where he could see the light on.

"Y/n?" He called out, and felt his heart drop into his stomach when he saw you step out with a sleepy smile on your face. Your smile turned to concern when you saw how your husband was looking at you.

"Bruce? What's wrong?" You asked, crossing the room to sit on the bed with him. Bruce wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how he watched you get shot in the head. How he held your lifeless body, but it didn't matter. It was a dream...all a dream.

"Nothing, just a bad dream." He said then kissed your shoulder. You gave him a weird look, but shook it off and kissed his cheek.

"Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up after I make my famous birthday breakfast." You said and did a little dance. Before Bruce could react, the door slammed open, and you saw each of your children staring at you as if they'd seen a ghost.

"What is wrong with you guys?" You then stood up with a slight pout, "Don't tell me you beat me to breakfast, I wanted to make it." You hoped that breakfast was the issue. Soon after you said that, you were nearly tackled by several people. You didn't know why your children were so happy to see you when they saw you a few hours ago.

After peeling yourself away from your family, you left to make your birthday breakfast. You had no clue what had gotten into any of them, but it wasn't going to stop your birthday tradition.

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artists-ally · 5 months

Text

{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Lucien x Reader

You all can go and blame @thelov3lybookworm for the swarm of Lucien content y'all are gonna get from me. This is probably one of the saddest things I've ever written and it took me wwaayy back to a very shitty relationship I was in so if it seem extra personal it is 💀 Enjoy, title from this song!

Word Count: 3,108

Warnings: ANGST (just for you @bubybubsters) mentions of murder (in relation to Jesminda)

Summary: Lucine has been so focused on trying to win over Elain that he's never once stopped to consider that you're the one who's always been there for him.

~~~~~

The door slammed. A breath sighed from the entryway. I went stiff.

“I don’t understand,” Lucien shouted. I could hear him kicking off his boots, hanging his jacket up on the rack by the door. “I thought we were finally making some progress and then nothing. Absolutely nothing today.”

I remained silent, swiping off the stuck scallions on my knife. “Sorry.”

“I mean, I get that she needs time to adjust, but Cauldron, Yn. It’s been nearly a year since the war ended. I’ve been patient, more than patient, and it’s like I’ve never made an effort.”

“Told you it was a bad idea.”

“What is it about me that she cannot stand? What does Azriel offer her that I don’t? He walks in the room and she lights up. What do I have to do to get her to look at me like that?” I just shrugged, moving to the sink to wash some sprouts and potatoes. Lucien was caught in this never ending cycle of trying to win over Elain. For the past year, almost year and a half, he has been torturing himself with something that obviously won’t be.

“Do you think she’d enjoy it if I took her to the Summer Court? Maybe she’d enjoy a trip to Dawn?” Lucien sat at my kitchen table, tapping his heel on my hardwood floor with his arms crossed over his chest. “We did actually talk for a while today. She ended up telling me her plans for her fall garden.”

“Sounds nice.”

“But I just wish she would open up a little more. Every time we talk it’s like I have to pry it out of her.” “Mhmm.”

“It makes me so nervous when she closes up like this. I can’t imagine what is going through her head. She won’t tell me. She won’t tell anyone, which is concerning. I just wish she would at least tell someone about what is going on. I’d even be okay if she told Azriel.”

“Yeah.”

“If only she would just reach out. Even an inch, just tug on the bond and acknowledge that it’s there. It wouldn’t bother me as much if she would just give us a chance.”

Lucien continued to blabber again, droning on and on about how Elain won’t do this or talk about that. I tuned him out, biting back the sting of jealousy in my throat. That familiar prickle in my nose forced me to grip the spoon harder.

He never listened to me anymore. He’d come and ask me for advice, to see what my opinion was on what he should do, and then blatantly do the opposite. But every time he came back, I’d give him more. Just like he was stuck in a loop with Elain, I was just as guilty of the same with him.

I was the one who had found him on the border after his Jesminda was murdered. I had been there to help him get settled, to get revenge on his brothers who forced him to watch. For decades I have been doing the same thing he has for Elain.

The only difference is I know how to take a hint. Luciene doesn’t.

“... and then when I asked if she would join me for a walk, she refused. I mean, she knows how important it is to get outside every now and then. She had said she wanted to garden and plant new seedlings for the upcoming winter but… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Yeah I bet that’s tough.”

“Tough?” So he did know how to acknowledge the things I said. “It’s excruciating. You have no idea. Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

It took all the strength inside me to not hurl this knife at his head. “What’s the point anymore?”

“What?” “You don’t listen to anything I say anymore anyways, so why bother?” I snorted, shaking my head. “I could’ve announced my pregnancy right now and you would’ve been too lost in thought about her to even register.”

“You’re pregnant?”

I slammed my knife down on the counter and whipped to face him. “No, I’m not. But if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why? We’re best friends, Yn. Don’t you think I’d wanna know if you were-”

“That is not the point of the conversation, Lucien,” I snapped. He just stared at me, waiting for an elaboration. I just sighed, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” “Did something happen today? You’re clearly in a bad mood.” “No. Absolutely nothing happened. Only that I had the grand opening of my restaurant today and you were nowhere to be found. You were with Elain.”

Lucien went silent. I could feel the energy shift from across the room. “Cauldron boil me… Yn I am so sorry. I thought that was next week, why didn’t you remind me yesterday?”

“I did,” I said. “I reminded you yesterday before you went up to the House to be with Elain. And the day before, and the day before that.”

“I think I would’ve remembered if-”

“Would you?” The tears were coming. Fast. It was a struggle to keep them from spilling over. “Because every time I’ve said anything, you’re talking about her. It’s always fucking her.”

“Why are you talking about Elain like that? What did she do to you?”

I just stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. The chill that spread through my bones should’ve been enough to kill me. I ground my teeth together hard enough to crack. “Ever since we came to this gods damned Court all you have talked about is her. It’s like I’m not even here anymore.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Lucien stood up.

“When was the last time you asked how I was doing? If the designs for the menus are finished? If I’ve picked out new tiles for my bathing room or if I’ve finally finished that collage I was working on? How long has it been since we’ve been out together or gone diving in the Sidra? For fucks sake Lucien it’s like I’m best friends with a ghost.”

All Lucien offered was a turn of his palms, lips parting to answer but no words came out.

“Exactly. You can’t even remember. Any time we talk it’s always about her. It’s always Elain this and Elain that. I’m fucking sick of it, Lucien. You’re constantly asking for advice on what to do with her, but have you ever stopped and thought about what you’re doing?”

“Every day it haunts me that I can’t reach her, Yn,” Lucien's brows knit together. “I come to you because I value your advice.”

“Well you can stop. I don’t have any more to give. Now, you can either change the topic or get the fuck out because I’m sick of hearing about her. Today was supposed to be my day. I don’t ever ask you for anything, and this is the one thing I wanted. And you were supposed to be there for me, your friend, your best friend. But of course, the female who won’t give you the time of day has to take priority over someone you’ve known for almost a century.”

“Are you so selfish that you can’t be happy for me for finding a mate after so many years? Are you that jealous that I’ve decided to spend some of my time with anyone else?”

Blinding red rage coursed through me. I let everything I had been holding back for months seep through. “How dare you say that to me.”

“Yn-”

“If you interrupt me I swear to the Mother that I will break your fucking neck.” I watched him swallow his response. “If you think I am unhappy with your bond then you don’t know me at all. I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Lucien. But I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me sick to my stomach.”

“Elain is sweet. Nurturing and caring,” Lucien pointed out. "What's so bad about that?"

“Does she know anything about you?”

“We’ve… talked about some things.”

“So does she know about your brothers?” His face paled. “Does she know about all the fights you got in with Tamlin? Does she know about Jesminda or how many years it took you to be able to hear her name and not burst into tears at the first syllable?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I think it’s perfectly fair, Lucien,” I shouted. My skin was blisteringly hot. All control was quickly crumbling. “The moment Elain came along, you forgot all about me. I am the only living being that has been there with you through everything. Through the destruction of the Spring Court, through Hybern. You begged me to come with you to Velaris, I gave up everything for you.”

“You wanted to leave, too. Don’t put all this on me,” Lucien said, waving his arms in the air.

“I did it because of you. How dense are you, Lucien? How blind are you to not see that every decision I have made since I met you has been for your well being?”

“I never asked that of you.”

“No, you didn’t. Because you’ve never once considered that I would do it without a second thought. I care about you. I was the one you wept to every time Elain rejected you, and yet, every single time you ran right back to her. I don’t know what you see in her. I think she has made it incredibly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about us.” Lucien’s eyes went dark, his mouth pressed in a flat line, nostrils flared.

I scoffed. A harsh, bitter laugh falling from my lips. “Did you seriously just say that to me? All I do is listen to you complain about her and how she doesn’t open up. About how closed off she is. For Cauldron's sake, Lucien, you had the balls to come here after opening day, after blowing me off, to talk about her. Want some advice? Take a nice long look in the mirror.”

“Why can you just not accept the fact that I might want to have a relationship with her? Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“Because what does she have that I don’t? What is it about her that you could possibly like more than me? Cauldron damn me, Lucien, we live together. I cook for you every day, we have breakfast and tea together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lucien furrows his brows together.

I could feel my heart start to splinter into however many pieces to double the amount of stars in the sky. All the love and contained affection I’ve had since I met Lucien has washed away in a moment. All those heart to hearts, all those late nights spent atop the House of Wind… all for nothing.

“You’re right,” I nodded, letting several tears run down my cheeks. “It means nothing. I have no reason to be mad at you for simply wanting to find love.”

Lucien sighed, a heavy, grueling noise. “Yn-”

“You know, everyone from back home kept saying that I was making a mistake, that I shouldn’t run off here with you. I think they’re right. This was all a mistake. I should’ve left you to rot on the side of the border.”

Color flushed his face and neck. Silence cursed us and I could only hear my occasional sniffle and the rapid beating of my heart.

“Tell me this, Lucien. Do her eyes look better when they shine?”

“What? Yn why are you-”

“Does she look prettier when she cries? Am I just too much to handle or-or too emotionally unstable?”

“You’re not too much, Yn. You’re perfect the way you are,” he shook his head, taking my hands in his. I rip them away.

“Then gods dammit Lucien, what is it about her that you love so much more than me?” I screamed.

He is stunned and silent. His mouth opens and closes. No words are coming out. My chest feels like it’s going to cave in any second.

“Yn… what are you talking about? Are you in love with me?” That flicker deep within my chest erupts into a thousand colors. I bite my lips to keep from crying out. “You are… aren’t you?”

I just shake my head. “I asked you a question first.”

“No, you can’t do this to me, that's not fair.”

“Who gives a fuck what is fair, Lucien? You have discarded me to the side like I was nothing. Did you forget that I was the one who sacrificed her life for you? What has Elain done for you? Nothing. She has done nothing but distract you from the important things in your life.”

“Like you?” Lucien said with an equal amount of venom in his voice. “You are so selfish.”

“You want me to admit it?” I snarled, my face inches from his. “Fine, I’m jealous. I am so jealous that you look at her like she hung the moon and at me like I mean nothing to you. There is no worse feeling in the world than seeing you happy with her, wishing and praying to every god that it was me.”

Lucien just stands still. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Yn.”

“That you love me too!” I shout, pacing around. “You’re telling me that Elain, someone who refuses to give you anything but a cold shoulder, is going to get all the love and affection I so treacherously built back into you after Jesminda? Did you ever stop and think for one moment that there could be you and I? Tell me how the fuck that makes sense.”

“Yes, you took care of me, and I will be eternally grateful for what you’ve done for me. I can’t ever repay you for giving life back to me. But I can’t… I can’t force myself to love you, Yn. I just can’t.”

My body felt like it was on fire. And not the kind of blaze I got when I looked into his eyes. It felt like the bond I had carefully hidden for years was finally unbraiding inside my soul. But when my eyes did meet his… nothing. No burst of excitement or sense of relief.

I felt utterly nothing as I looked at the man that has been in every single moment of my life for the past sixty years.

“Please say something,” Lucien begged.

I couldn’t. Not with this world obliterating feeling inside my chest. I could only stare at the floor.

“Yn… Yn please don’t let this ruin what we have.”

“It was ruined the moment you walked in that door.” My voice was meek.

I could see Lucien shake his head, but his features became a blurry whirlwind behind my tears. “Yn I’m begging you I’ll-”

“Get out.”

“No,” Lucien's voice cracked. “No, I'm not going to leave.” He came and grabbed my shoulders, trying to make me look at him.

“Leave, right now, or I’ll get someone who will.” I'll call for Azriel. That will really make his skin blister. He instantly let go. “I want all traces of you gone by tomorrow night.”

“You can’t do this to me. To us.”

“It’s clear you’ve made your decision on where your priorities lie. I refuse to be second place to you anymore.”

“You have never been second place to me, Yn. Never. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t valued. But I can’t love you. I’m not in love with you.”

“And that is why you have to go. Take care Lucien, I hope she was worth it.”

I don’t bother to show him to the door. He knows where it is. I don’t offer him any other farewells. He doesn’t deserve my good luck. Instead I return to my pots and pans, staring painfully at them. I have no choice but to force him away.

It might just kill me, this ache in my body. It might just engulf me and swallow me into the earth, back to wherever I came from and give me another shot. Hopefully the next one I’ll actually get what I deserve.

As I stare at the meal before me, it’s like I’m looking at a fresh batch of pure despair. It brings me nothing but painful reminders of years ago back in the Spring Court. Where it was just the two of us. There was no Night Court, there was no emissary duty, there was no Feyre or Nesta or Elain.

Just me and my Lucien.

And now there was just me.

I have to do something. Distantly I hear the door click shut, it’s groan signaling Lucien’s vacancy. As hard as I can, I throw a wooden spoon towards it. It’s gratifying, but it doesn’t dull the ancient pain inside. I throw another. And another. And another. Until there are no more wooden spoons left, and they have been fated to splinters.

I began to throw away the food I was preparing. A pot full of potato and cheese soup goes first. The lamb in the oven goes next. Then the sweet cherry pie next to it. I stash away the cups and silverware, nearly shattering them in the process.

This was supposed to be a celebration. Of all the hard work I have put into my restaurant over the last several years. It was opening night, the line was a mile long. Even Rhys and Feyre were there to congratulate me.

But not the one person I wanted most.

This dinner. This fucking dinner. It was his favorite. Though I suppose it still is. Something I made him when he was upset. But instead of settling my stomach, it made it wretch.

I should send the recipe to Elain, but change one ingredient. Replace the chives with cilantro. He hates cilantro. I know so much about him, he knows so much about me.

Why… just why couldn’t it have worked?

I’ll never get to see him smile again. Or cry. I’ll never get to hear his laugh. Or braid his hair when he’s sick. I’ll never get to feel his arms around me or hear the sound of him coming in the door. If I’m not gone when he gets all his stuff tomorrow, I just might ask him to stay.

I deserve better. Someone who will look at me like I’ve hung the moon. Who will pursue me the way Lucien pursues Elain. I deserve unconditional.

I wish I could still deserve him.

~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

#lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien x reader #lucien x you #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #angst

440 notes · View notes

cometkenji · 13 days

Text

ghost in the machine

Pairing: Unsub!Spencer Reid x Agent!Fem!reader CW: Fluff, longing, mild angst, one paragraph with heavy implications of sex, cursing, mentions of reader being in a car accident, mentions of suicide and death, suggestive Ig? idk Spencer kind of taunts reader, if I miss anything please tell me! Summary: An unsub targeting local political powers starts calling you. With virtually no memories of your life before 15, you're tasked with finding out why his voice feels like home. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby. She's not physically described in this but reader is literally always a bigger person. Anyone can read but I wanna clarify <3 WC: 7.8k I lokey feel like I fumbled this one but this idea has been in my head since I saw a post about it like last month so i'm sorry in advance if it sucks 💀 I'm not saying looping ghost in the machine by SZA while reading this will elevate the experience but just know it's strongly advised and im even giving you a link to the song for easy access.

The fourth case this month. This was the fourth battered politician you’d forced into handcuffs while ducking away from the recoil of blood spewing from his mouth. The men you’d arrested had all protested strongly - and wetly - while being walked to the back of your cruiser, demanding to know why you were arresting them even though they were the victims. They were always the victims. They’d been burgled and beaten - yes- oftentimes you were restraining them while they sat in bathrobes or pajama pants, but this unsub always jumped the gun. Somehow they managed all this damage while simultaneously kicking the dirt that had been sedentary for years out from under the rug. The men would call the police themselves - I’ve been robbed, I’ve been beaten - always astounded when you’d taken their statement then turned them around and recited their Miranda rights. This unsub was meticulous, planned down to the second. Somehow, the media always broke the story hours after the arrest with full fledged details on the crime - ones the BAU didn’t even have yet.

The first time this happened, you’d questioned every media worker from Quantico to DC. His target zone never seemed to reach beyond that, giving you an offender right in your backyard. Those were always the hardest to stomach. Journalists, Newscasters, even cameramen had been turned inside out as the team scoured for any connection. He was just too good.

“How can it be just one man?” Derek spoke first, but that was the question all of you were about to ask.

“Wife and kids were outta town. It was a sleeping 50 year old man against the element of surprise.” Prentiss was right, it wasn’t a difficult job when viewed like that. “Description is consistent with all the victims. All black attire, mask over the face.” She flopped the folder down in front of her for emphasis.

“Either he has another guy or he’s incredibly tech savvy. Some of this information was encrypted, it would take weeks to compile all of this. If he’s hitting a new vic every week that’s not nearly enough planning time for something this orchestrated.” Hotch checked the time on his watch. “We’re not finding him tonight. The local PD are investigating. We don’t have clearance until tomorrow. Everybody go home and get some rest, we need to crack down on this.”

As much as you loved your job, the departure was a welcome relief. The day had drained you, you had to basically drag yourself back to the BAU for the regroup after the case. It was routine, and incredibly necessary as this unsub continued his streak, but your brain was mush, and you didn’t know if you were capable of any breakthroughs in your current state. You were grateful, currently, that at least you weren’t dealing with a serial killer. He had an agenda, that much was obvious, but chasing a serial killer for a month bred a different kind of stress than chasing an anarchist.

The AC blast that hit you upon entering your home seemed to steal the tension from your shoulders. It was summer, so on top of hunting an unsub who was essentially a ghost, you were also bearing through the violently humid nights. You locked the door, pulling up your sleeves as you walked deeper into your house. The lights were on, you never left them off for long, and your eyes locked on the pile of notes sitting on your counter. Three small papers, torn at every edge, were draped over each other. Evidence, you thought. You’d kept them for evidence. Once you told the team the unsub had been reaching out, you would show them the notes. It was that simple, you were planning to tell them. You didn’t know why the information hadn’t entered their radar yet. This unsub was clearly infatuated. You could be a valuable part of solving this case, the notes could be the reason you solved it at all. Those were words straight from the source, they would tell you more about the unsub than any crime scene analysis would. Something about them just stilled your tongue, though. You never particularly liked the feds, the cops, the higher ups. You became one of them begrudgingly, you’d been good at reading people your whole life. You wanted to solve things, see justice. It was never primarily about helping people for you, and you feared the reputational repercussions if your team members ever found out about that. You weren't ignorant, you had morals. You simply lacked the place of purity they came from, the virtue your team members carried was one you were void of. Half of the time you walked away from a case, you disagreed with the verdict, and you were ashamed.

You had only realized you zoned out when the phone rang, effectively breaking your gaze away from the notes and onto the ‘Unknown caller’ screen glaring at you from your cell. Morgan just got a new phone, you remembered. He’s probably checking in. You picked it up, stating just your last name in greeting as a reflex from almost exclusively talking to other agents.

It was quiet for a moment, reaching the period of time where your stomach knotted up and almost forced you off the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” The voice was a new one, it pulled at certain strings within you. You knew him, but you didn’t recognize him.

“Who’s this?” The spark of familiarity filled you with guilt. A car accident when you were 15 had stolen most of the memories from your childhood and left a bountiful amount of scars in their place. You barely remembered your own parents, if this man was an old relative, you definitely didn’t know who he was. As much as your family tried to be empathetic, you could tell it hurt them when you were none the wiser.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice.” The man was smiling as he spoke, you could hear it in his tone. “Your number was shockingly hard to find. Feds really don’t mess around, huh?” Your shoulders tensed, you looked around. Blinds were closed, your house was the same as when you left it. You're sure it wouldn’t be hard to find your address if he’d found your number. “I’ve been trying, believe me. I left those notes while I was looking, although it’s really not the same, is it? Phones are so revolutionary, I mean writing you a letter is one thing but it’s so underwhelming in comparison. A piece of paper doesn’t let me listen to you, doesn’t let me hear those little breaths you take when you get scared.” You didn’t even realize your breathing had changed until he called you out.

“Do I scare you?” He sounded so domestic, the contrast between the genuinity laced in his words and the actual words themselves just about knocked you over. “I hope I don’t. I’m not trying to.”

“What are you trying to do?” Your mouth felt sealed shut, just barely managing to grate out the words.

“If you’re asking about my agenda, I’m afraid that’s a private affair for now.” He was so casual about this, sarcastically sucking air in through his teeth like he was telling you he couldn’t meet for coffee next week.

“What do you need with me, then? You don’t want to share and you aren’t calling to gloat. What’s the point?”

You heard him click his tongue at the question. “Everything is so technical with you agents.” You could basically sense his lips quirk up, gaining some type of sick intuition for the man’s tendencies. “Maybe I just wanted a word with the pretty detective working my case.”

Your knees were trembling, your grip getting looser on the phone as you struggled to keep your hold through the tremors of your hands. You had to focus, you could take advantage of this. “Why politicians? What happened to you?”

“Personal grudge.”

“How do you get their data so fast?”

“I know a guy” He knew a guy?

“So you have a partner?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s no one of importance.” Sibling, maybe?

“It’s important to me.”

He chuckled at that. You needed to hang up.

“Y/n-” Could he sense your fucking muscles tensing? “Don’t tell your friends.” He could hear your heartbeat from where he was, you were sure of it.

“Why?” You were instantaneous, barely letting him finish before responding. “You gonna hurt me?”

“No.” He scoffed. “If you tell them, I’ll have to stop reaching out.” You swore you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Is that really something you want?” Cold sweat pierced through the skin on the back of your neck. You yanked the phone down from your ear and hung up.

No, it wasn’t.

–

You dreadfully greeted the sun as it peeked through the slits of your blinds. You’d slept maybe a half hour in total last night, sleeping in five minute increments while bearing through a paranoid haze only comparable to the first time you’d smoked weed. The world felt unreachable. You could see it like a screen but your true consciousness sat captive in his hands. He’d known you. That was the fact stuck in your throat, that’s why you couldn’t sleep. Does that mean you knew him?

“Jesus.” If you had to guess, the sight of your sunken eyes and hunched shoulders was the trigger for Morgan’s reaction to the sight of you. Walking into work wasn’t going to be fun, you knew that, but you hadn’t expected such an immediate acknowledgement. “Someone have a rough night?”

You wished you could banter with him. Morgan always made working here feel lighter, he was fun to be around, but you were guilty. If you were tired from a one-night, insomnia, even if you were drunk and puking your guts up all night, you would have joked back with him. Now, you had to force yourself to make eye contact. A childish part of your brain was scared he'd smell it on you. At this point, you were fraternizing with the enemy, and it’s repercussions were draped over you like a curtain. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Clearly.” He handed you a mug of coffee. “Is it the case? If it’s bugging you that much, one of us can stay with you for a couple nights. It’s no trouble.”

“No, Morgan, that’s not necessary.” He was so kind it was nearly suffocating. If someone stayed, he either wouldn’t call or you’d have to decline it. Both of those options making an uncomfortable amount of unease stir inside you. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.”

“Just tell me if you need anything.” He nodded at you, you nodded back, then you both headed into the conference room.

“Any leads?” You walked to your seat as you asked, unsure what you were hoping to receive as an answer.

“None.” Everyone else was gathered around the table, Hotch scanning through the file as he replied to you.

“We’ve pretty much ruled out the media workers.” Prentiss spoke up. “This guy’s most likely an anarchist. His previous victims haven’t belonged to a consistent party so he’s not lashing out at the opposing side.” She thought for a moment. “What path leads somebody to anarchy?”

“Maybe he’s been kept out of office.” Morgan started speculating, just trying to sweep together something they could pin to him. “If he’s been running long enough, maybe he gets angry, changes course. He could be jealous of his targets.”

Your brain was half focused on the case, half focused on him. Two sides of you were fighting, one instilling a sort of protectiveness over him, one howling at you to do your fucking job.

“I don’t think he’s an anarchist.” You leaned forward in your chair, revving up to present your theory. “He’s been described in the same outfit for every victim. Long Sleeve, cargo pants, gloves and a ski mask - all black. That’s as minimal as it gets. Some pretty low income areas are well within his safe zone.” You paused, looking around to see if they were understanding what you were getting at.

“He’s poor.” Hotch had a glint in his eyes. Almost.

“So - what?” Morgan prompted. “He’s doing this for money? This is way too elaborate for somebody needing cash.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Hotch, there was evidence of Scopolamine injections. A man who either knows how to make the chemical or already has enough money to buy it wouldn’t be in a position that warrants this. Plus, the kind of tech it would take to get the information he steals? Way more than your typical Best Buy - this is Garcia level stuff. He injects them and probably forces them to help with the robbing, he beats them senseless - he’s getting some kind of kick out of this.”

“He’s not poor” You concluded. “But I’m pretty sure he used to be.” You sat up straighter to elaborate. “A lot of times, kids who grow up homeless or with no money feel wronged by politicians. Here they are going to school hungry while the mayor rolls in cash and lets them bear the consequences of a put-off promise to help the community.”

Prentiss sat back in her chair as she considered your words. “To build this type of anger, though? This is a vendetta.” She glanced down at the crime scene photos as a reminder.

“Exactly. Anger is expected in normal cases. Something extreme clearly had to happen to explain this type of outburst.” Personal grudge, you remembered him saying. You felt like you were airing out his secrets as you spoke. A weak sense of betrayal tugged at your guts. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, going over what type of event could cause something like this and I think I have an idea.” You pulled out your phone while talking to call Garcia, the woman answering immediately.

“Garcia, can you look up children in the Quantico to DC area who died from complications with chronic illness? Probably late 90’s to early 2000’s, I don’t think our guy is old enough to have been running for office.”

“That’s gonna be a large list. Any more parameters you can give me?”

“Look for families making less than 20,000 a year.”

“Got it. There were three families making under 20,000 that reported losing a child of illness. One was of stage 4 cancer with no plausible recovery and the other two said they couldn’t afford the medication needed for treatment. I just sent them over.”

“You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it.” You hung up the phone, pulling up the files she found.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” Morgan looked to you.

“We can rule out the first family. Dying of cancer wouldn’t create the effect needed for our unsub.” He looked like he was about to reiterate his question. “What we’re looking for is a sibling. If your family is struggling, you already have the seed of anger that this guy has. I think a family member dying from the lack of money might just give him the motive he needs.”

“That’s good thinking, he could be avenging someone.” Praise from Hotch always felt better than others. “The Bryson family was just the mother and the daughter who died. She worked in janitorial for the local middle school.”

“Doesn’t exactly fit the profile.” Morgan was right, all the testimonies had described a man. Plus the assumption of decent financial prosperity didn’t fit someone still working at a middle school.

“Who does that leave?” You were searching for the answer to your question, but Prentiss was quicker.

“Diana Reid and her two sons. Henry had type 1, seems like they could afford the insulin for a little while but something must have happened. He went into DKA and died a week later.”

Two sons. “What about his brother?”

“Uhhhh-” She scrolled down on her tablet. “That would be one Spencer Reid who…” She scrolled just a little bit further to find the whereabouts of the man, the hope in her eyes snuffing out with the information she read. “is dead. Says he committed suicide a couple years after his brother died.” The whole table deflated a bit as she said that.

“It was a good idea.” Hotch, despite being a monotone man, usually tried to keep things optimistic. “We’ll continue pursuing that angle. Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to go back to the first crime scene. I’ll call Dave and we’ll head to the latest.” The mentioned agents nodded their heads and started making their way out the door.

Your eyebrows furrowed at your lack of instruction. “And me, sir?”

“Go home.” He looked you over for a moment. “You look like hell.” Then he was gone, calling Rossi on his way out. How mortifying.

–

It had been three days since Hotch’s dismissal of you. You managed to get some sleep, convincing your co-workers of normalcy when you went back into the office the next day. In truth, you were anything but. You had been noticeably distracted but the others chose not to mention it until it hindered your performance, which it had yet to do. You were on a timer, counting down the seconds until your next call with him. You seemed to be endlessly tugged back and forth between excitement and pure dread. Everytime you got home, you took a moment to stare at your phone, almost like you could will him to call if you glared at it long enough. The day was just shy of a week since his last attack, and you were nervous as hell. Your phone buzzed once, then it buzzed again. He was calling.

“You’re early.” You didn’t find it fitting to greet him. You knew who it was, why be friendly? “Is there another one?”

“Relax, honey.” His voice lit a fire in you. Jesus. “I didn’t know I was only permitted one call a week.”

“What are you playing at?” You tried to sound sturdy, but your voice hit your ears with more desperation than you’d ever expressed.

“I could ask you the same.” You could hear the tilt in his words, he was so sure of what he was doing. “You didn’t tell them about us.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m not in cuffs, am I?”

“You think we’d catch you if I told them?” Was it your fault he was still free?

“No.”

“Maybe they’re listening.”

“Maybe.” He was so unbothered by the notion. You were never a good bluffer.

“It wouldn’t bother you?” You narrowed your eyes at nothing, staring at your wall as you tried to read him through the phone.

“You could bring in the whole nation, Y/n.” You listened more intently than you ever had. “It wouldn’t keep me from you.” You felt like you were choking on your own heart, feeling it beat at the confines of your throat. Jesus Christ.

“Do you know where I live?” Your lips were too weak to hold back the question. It’d been the only thing on your mind since the first note had been left on your car.

“Why?” His smile bled into his words. “Are you inviting me over?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why don’t you answer a question of mine?” He was so intentional, his MO proudly showing in the way he spoke to you. “Haywood or Clancy?”

“Are those your actual choices?” You tried to analyze him, justifying your actions with the ruse of investigation. He’d tell you more if he wasn’t monitored. “Or are you trying to throw me off your trail?” It was certainly plausible. Get you running after two men not of interest, leaving his real victim neglected by your team.

He laughed, breathy and soft. “I don’t know.” You could almost picture him tilting his head, faceless and so enticing in your imagination. “Pick one for me. Maybe I’ll do him next in your honor.”

“What do you know about honor?”

“Everything I do is about honor.” What did that mean?

“The only thing that would honor me is you turning yourself in.”

“What do you know about honor, agent?” His voice was taunting, you heard his body shift. “What do you think that team of yours would think about us, hm? Those are their words, not yours. You’re the one who’s waiting on calls from the enemy.” Shock paralyzed your tongue. You felt your head pulse with the blood rushing to your ears. “You don’t have to be guilty about wanting it, honey. You don’t fit with them.”

“As opposed to what? Fitting with you?”

He chuckled. “You’ve thought about it.”

“Nightmares, maybe.”

“That’s the angle you're going with?” He saw through you. “If you dreamt of me, I doubt they were nightmares.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know where you are.” You didn’t feel relieved. “I have no interest in hurting or robbing you. Why would I want your address?.”

You slipped your hand under your shirt to trace the scar across your chest. Gift from the accident, now a nervous habit of yours. “What do you want?” God, you were a broken record.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Y/n.” You could barely hear him over the thrum of blood in your veins. Your entire body felt tuned into his words. You’d never felt so far away while connected. “Only what I can do.”

“You take everything from them. More than just money. Clearly you lost something.” You were so sick of asking this question but you were getting farther from the answer with every conversation. “Why are you doing this?”

“They made the first move.” Jesus what did they do to this guy? “I’m not the bad guy, honey. I’m just defending my side.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“It might as well be.” He was quick with his responses. “It’s all the same to men like them.” You stayed quiet for a moment. How did you reply to something like that? “Get some sleep. It’s late.”

“Give me less crime scenes to look at and maybe I’ll sleep more.”

He smiled, you could hear it in his tone. “Every mean has an end, agent.” You held your breath, and as if gaining consciousness, you hung up the phone. You felt the brick of the encounter sit heavy in your stomach. He wasn’t lying. You were guilty, and you wanted it beyond belief.

–

You’d talked to him four more times over the past two weeks. There’d been two more victims corresponding with those calls, continuing his routine of a new one each week. Your understanding of your feelings had become less hazy as you talked to him more. Your guilt wasn’t from withholding information from your team, it was from the fact you wanted to. It stemmed from your instinctual desire to keep him to yourself. Let him exist differently in your home life than he did in your work life. It was difficult keeping something from profilers. It made you feel worse that they definitely knew something was up, but chose not to push it because they trusted you. Did this truly make you untrustworthy? You were only human.

You’d spent what was meant to be your day off at the BAU working. When there was a case like this, rest time seemed to take the backseat. You were drained, more emotionally than physically. You were lying to your friends, but truly, you didn’t know how deeply you considered them friends. They were good people, easy to like and easy to work with. You were starting to wonder if that's where it stopped, though. Everything about their company was easy, but it lacked gratification. His company was hard on you, but it was so rewarding, so filled with feeling that you started to wonder what your morals even were. You wouldn’t find them here, you thought. You certainly tried. You stared into the chipped white paint aging poorly on the brick wall of the bar as if the pigment of the words would organize your thoughts better than your malfunctioning mind could. The liquid in your glass was nearing it’s end. The drink had loosened your joints, loosened your mind. You hadn’t come here to get drunk, you were basically still sober, you just needed the warmth of a drink. There was a certain coldness within you, there had been since the accident. You accredit the feeling with driving away any potential love interests of yours. There was always a sense of being stuck, like you were interrupted in the middle of moving on, and never fully got to close the chapter. This wasn’t hard for others to sense. You were as emotionally nonreciprocal and unresponsive as a corpse.

“Mind if I join you?” A man who’d immediately caught your eye upon entrance gestured to the barstool next to you.

You motioned to it. “Please.” A casual invitation. You didn’t know how to talk to random men in bars. You took a good look at him, something subconscious stirring beneath your skin. The minimal buzz of the drink you had making you write it off, preferring the focus of his eyes on yours.

“What’s your name?” The smoothness of his voice could have rivaled the most expensive whiskey in that place.

You told him your name. He nodded, murmuring a “pretty” under his breath as he took a sip from his glass.

“I’m Matthew.”

“Pretty.” You reiterated, raising your eyebrows slightly as you joked. He chuckled, and you asked if he was new to the area.

“I’m a local, actually. I grew up here, surprisingly never been to this bar, though.”

“Really? I grew up around here too. This place is old as dust, been here forever.” You looked down, finishing the last of your drink.

“I know. I’ve wanted to come here for a while because it’s so old.” Something about him was so off putting but so irresistible. You’d never encountered such an uncomfortable concoction. It was intoxicating. “I lost the knack for drinking I had in my teen years. Back then my friends and me would just buy a 12 pack and get drunk in the field on Fromage.”

You lacked the memories to know if you related to the man, but you weren’t going to delve into why and kill the mood, so you lied. “That field used to scare the shit out of me. Everyone at my school said there were bodies out there.”

His eyes held a certain glint in them when he looked at you, his lips perked up at the edges slightly, if you hadn’t been a profiler you might have missed it. “Really?” Maybe you imagined it all, that or he caught on to you, the look leaving his eyes after lingering for a moment. The slight promise of something more sinister pulsed throughout them. The hairs on your arm were standing. “Mine said the same thing.” He smiled, looking away, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. “My school was full of dumbasses though so I never really took it seriously.” And you laughed.

You laughed a lot throughout the time you sat there with him. A few hours, you’d guess. He lowered your guard so easily, walking leisurely through the gates of you. You’d practically rolled out the red carpet for him. You wondered if he could see how easily he got in, how much you welcomed the feel of him in your veins. He didn’t seem to mind if he could. When he’d wanted to take you home, your lips parted, and you said you’d like that. You don’t really remember driving, knowing one of you did, both of you sober by the time you’d left. He’d been so gentle, so all-consuming. He’d run his thumbs along the scars he encountered, punctuating the sensation with his lips following close after. Mumbling praises against your skin and rhetorically asking “does that feel good, honey?” as your legs shook around him. He melted you down to pure liquid gold with just his touch, knowing exactly how to map you out. You’d felt him everywhere, his fingers burning their respective shadows on your skin, seeping slowly into your soul to leave marks there too. He’d felt so safe, the pure want joining the two of you together. A euphoric distraction from all the disaster you’d let befall you. He was gone before you woke up the next morning, but you saw him in your shadow, felt him in the soreness of your legs. He’d been a deviation, something put in your path to confuse you. What a brutal fucking night.

–

The same day, you’d gone to work, gone home, and then ended up back at the BAU an hour later. There had been another victim. Two days early. This was his eighth, and up until now he hadn’t strayed from his weekly pattern. This was a bad sign, if he was ramping up, who knows how many more he wanted to hit. The story had stayed the same, and that night you were arresting another board member, this time for solid ties to human trafficking. He really knew how to pick them. You’d give him that, at least.

The meeting post-arrest basically just shared what you were all thinking. He was ramping up, and you were getting no closer to catching him. Stating the obvious was doing nothing but wasting time. He was good. One of the best you’d ever seen. Nobody really knew what to do at this point. You watched their faces get more and more helpless and you felt bad. Nothing in your calls with the man would have helped you solve this case, you were almost positive. Any aspect that could have helped was one you explored.

Emily had said the name ‘Spencer Reid’ and the way your stomach lurched made you feel like you had to be onto something. You’d never had such an intense gut feeling about something only for it to be absolutely impossible. You hadn’t told them, but you looked more into him. His death was an easy one to fake. As much as you hated speculating on what could very well have been just a heartbroken boy, you couldn’t deny the theory you were building. His mother had found a suicide note, they hauled a body out of the river a month later and just assigned Spencer’s name to it, marking it down as conclusive. You weren’t convinced.

–

You got home within the hour, locking the door and pulling out your phone. You hadn’t called him before, but it was the same number every time, and you needed to talk. The phone rang so long you were almost sure he wouldn’t pick up. Almost.

“Y/n.” He greeted you. “This is new.”

“You broke your pattern.” You started with the topic at hand. “Why did you do that?”

You heard a chair squeak slightly as he leaned back. “What can I say? You being so interested gave me some extra motivation.”

“Interested?” What the fuck was he talking about? “This isn’t - I’m not fucking interested in anything. You’re a criminal.” You were slightly out of breath. When you lied to him, no matter how small the lie, air seemed to gain a disinterest in staying within your lungs.

“Mhm.” He was smug. That wasn’t a good sign. “I don’t believe that. You seemed pretty interested last night.”

He had pulled a lever, and your stomach dropped to your shoes. “That was you?” You sounded as defeated as you felt. Your eyes were watering from the pure shock, feeling the drop of the bomb shake you down to your core.

“You kept tracing that scar on your chest, you know that?” You hadn’t known that. “Almost like you could feel it.” Feel what? He didn’t elaborate. “You sounded so pretty when I touched it, when I kissed you. Been thinking about it all day.” He was breathy, sounding like he was trying to put himself back in it as he spoke.

You steadied yourself before you opened your mouth. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” He sighed. “You lied to me, though.” You hadn’t imagined it. “That field used to scare you?” He laughed slightly. “You were the one who told me about it. Took me over there once to look at the moon in the back of your dad’s pickup.”

God, this was frustrating. “Who are you?” The tears were dancing the border of your eyes, begging to run down your cheeks. “I knew you?”

“You know me.” He was so sure of it. “I’m still in there. Everything is.”

You had to ask, at this point you were near certain of it. “Spencer?”

He sighed, relief intertwining with his words. “There she is.” It was such a soft delivery, the moment he took before replying had you wondering if you’d said anything at all.

What kind of situation even was this? “Is this about your brother?”

“You know, when we were younger, my mother knew the mayor. He used to babysit my brother and me when she worked nights.” His tone was humorous, bitter, like he couldn’t believe the stupidity of what he was explaining. “I listened to him promise us he would change the community when he got the time. Get us a house with more than one bedroom, get us into a school system deserving of us. He used to call me a genius.” He scoffed at the thought. “Then my mom couldn’t afford the insulin, and he let my brother die.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“The payments wouldn’t have even made a dent in his pockets.” You could visualize him, alone in a room somewhere, that familiar crease between his eyebrows as he talked. You were going to be sick, you thought. “One man for every year my brother got to live. Seems only fair.”

“Two more to go, then?” You couldn’t identify a single thought in your head. All of them speeding past you like bullets before you could latch onto one. “Is it helping?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled, quiet and subdued. “It is.”

“I - um” A tear finally fell, breaking the dam. You wiped it away quickly, two more taking it’s place almost immediately “I have to go.”

“Y/n-” but you were gone already. You put your hand over your mouth, laughing into it slightly at the absurdity of your situation and sobbing into a moment later as you took the cold plunge into reality. You texted your parents, knowing they were asleep, asking if you could swing by when they woke up. If anyone would know something, it was them, and you had every intention of shaking them down to find out exactly how you’d known the man. You had to know. You spent the night preparing the questions you’d ask and trying to fall asleep. You were almost paralyzed with the weight of him on you. There was no getting out of it now.

–

The outside of this house always felt alien. You knew you’d grown up here, but it lacked any sense of home. You wondered as you stood out front how much Spencer had to have meant to leave more of a mark than the place you spent your first 18 years in. The sun was nearing it’s peak in the sky, it was almost noon. Your parents had texted back at eight am, worried and eager to know what was wrong, eager to see you. You’d fallen asleep barely an hour before that, waking up at eleven and quickly getting ready after seeing the text. You were scared. These were practically strangers to you, and you were betting an ungodly amount on them. That’s not fair, you thought. But honestly, nothing was fair, and you calmed your guilt with promise of filling the void in your gut. You broke your staring contest with the front door and leaned forward to knock, the thing opening almost immediately.

“Hey.” You spoke before they did. You found that being the first to talk usually decreased the amount of warmth in their greetings. “It’s good to see you guys. Thank you for having me, I know my texts were sort of alarming. I just needed to talk about something.” You held eye contact to the best of your ability. They brought out a deep feeling of shame, knowing they didn’t blame you for the distance but still being responsible for it nonetheless.

“Of course.” Your mother talked while your father looked down. “It’s good to see you too. Come in, please.” Your father broke from her side to go sit down, while your mother opened the door to usher you in. You stepped forward, nodding at her in thanks as you passed her, joining your father where he sat.

“Um…” You faced both of them as your mom took the place by his side. How did you even start this? “Well, in a case I’ve been working on, somebody came up.” You couldn’t tell them he was alive. “And he just…seemed familiar, I guess. Did I know a boy named Spencer Reid growing up?” You watched the sparks of recognition ignite in their eyes as you said the name. Your mother’s grew teary, while your father’s seemed to harden.

“Knew him?” Your mother chuckled at the thought of it being so simple. “You two were more in love than your father and I.” She rolled her eyes as she held your father’s arm, the man laughing lightly at her words.

“He was the first friend you talked about. I remember picking you up from the first day of kindergarten and listening to you rave about the boy who was ‘smarter than the teacher’.” Her tone got lighter at the end, seemingly trying to imitate the excitement of your adolescent self. “You two were always close, you know?” She seemed to remember him fondly. “When you got older, you would get so defensive if I asked after him so eventually I stopped. But I knew. I knew you two would end up together from your first playdate.” She was on the verge of tears, giggling at her own words as the stories she told surrounded her, smiling at the past.

“His family really struggled. Such a sweet kid, him and his brother both. They were over here a lot.” Your father took the role of speaker as your mother’s emotions got the better of her. “We went back and forth for a while after the accident on whether to tell you or not. It just seemed cruel to. He died the night before you got hit, and you were such a wreck we just -” He struggled to find the words. “We considered it a blessing you didn’t remember him.” Your father’s guilt was apparent, twisting his features slowly as he explained their choices. “You were so in love, sweetheart. You didn’t know who he was when you woke up and we figured, you know, what’s the point? When the only thing that could come from it was pain, it just seemed futile.”

You don’t think you blinked the entire time they were talking to you. You only knew you were crying when your vision went blurry, completely neglecting the beading of tears down your cheeks. You remembered the day your mother was talking about, seeing the children you once were illustrate the world in front of you. You could almost see his face, how it would have looked when he died, how he used to look at you. Like he was staring at the universe’s secrets, easing his hands through the veil to touch them - to touch you. You remember the feeling he gave you, something warm and distinct, reserved for the two of you only. If you could have seen yourself in the moments you shared, you’re sure you would have worn the same look in your eyes.

You started speaking, but couldn’t manage much. “Yes, yeah, you’re right.” Reassurance usually worked well. “It was a…a good call.” You had trouble with your words, remembering the feelings of him but lacking the visuals. “Do you have any pictures?” Your mother nodded in response, detaching from your dad and going to retrieve something that held the memories you sought.

“I’m-” Your dad started. “We’re sorry.”

You shook your head. Your parents were the last people who owed an apology. “It’s ok, dad. I’m glad you did it.”

“I could never myself look back at these. Thinking about what happened to them I just…I can never look at them knowing they’re gone.” Your mother re-entered the room holding a camera, dark pink and cheap. “It was meant to document your childhood, but he was around so much, it’s basically just a compilation of you guys.”

You held the thing in your hands. It was everything you wanted to happen but you couldn’t force your fingers to move. Did you even want this? He was alive, sure, but you’re certain the boy next to you in these photos would never see the light of day again. All your birthdays for thirteen years, field trips, science fairs, even just the two of you sitting together reading. It was all here. All consumable. You felt the urge to boil them down and burn your skin with the residue. Anything to keep a semblance of this life with you. You had a right to them, they were yours. Your teeth clenched at the sting of the absence. He had been yours and you couldn’t even remember. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course.” You’re sure the thoughts in your head were obvious to them, spinning like a cyclone in your eyes zoning out on the camera. “I’ve thought about giving it to you for a while now anyway.”

–

They’d made you lunch, then dinner. They told you tales of your past and you let them glance into your present. It was dark by the time you left, setting the goal to talk with them more. You walked to your car, having parked down the street, and tried to shake yourself out of the trance that house put you in. You thought you were seeing things at first, squinting slightly to focus on the chunk of passenger door that was shrouded with out of place darkness. Someone was leaning against your car. You didn’t feel defensive.

“Spencer?”

“Hey.” He pushed off the door and walked closer to you, facing you on the sidewalk. You could see him now, lit up by a streetlight. He took you in, too. Glancing at your hand and grinning. “I remember that thing.” You had forgotten you were holding the camera until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know, honey.” He shrugged, matching your exhaustion at the situation. “I guess I wanted to see how much you remembered.” He looked at you, his eyes just as bright as they’d been a decade ago. “How much I could make you remember.”

You sighed. God, if only it worked that way. “Do you want to-” What the fuck were you thinking? “Do you want to come over?” You’d looked through every picture on that camera. You missed him. You missed him in your space, on your bed, waiting for you at the bus stop. That knot of feeling stuck only wanted to unravel if it were his hands tugging at it. “I can drive us.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise blending seamlessly with the undiluted hope he carried as a kid. “Ok.” He smiled, just a tiny lift at the corners of his lips. The image of that smile resting on his teenage face struck you so violently you felt it in your bones. You looked at him, starstruck. His presence was a trance of it’s own.

“Ok.” You repeated him, trying to elongate the moment. You weren’t sure when you’d be ready to look away. He’d have to move first, and he knew it, so he walked to the passenger door. You blinked, grounding yourself, and unlocked the car.

You were preparing for an awkward car ride, but clearly your subconscious was more than familiar with him, being silent with him came as second nature to you. You took the long way back to your house, trying to enjoy the comfortability as long as you could. He added an elevation to your existence that you hadn’t been aware you were lacking. You pulled into your driveway ten minutes later, parking and turning off the car.

“Did you really not know where I lived?”

“No.” He was looking out your windshield, taking in the sight of where you felt safest. “I meant what I said. I never needed to.

You walked into the house first, hearing him shut the door softly behind him. You’d been listening to see how he’d close it, not sure what it would tell you, but deeming it important regardless. He’d been nothing but respectful of your space both times he’d been here. You sat down, nodding your head to the chair near you.

He let a moment pass, waiting to see if you had something to say. You had too much to say, too much to articulate. “I want you to leave with me.”

“Spencer-”

“Don’t.” His eyes were pleading, glistening with his unique mix of hunger and control. “Don’t write me off, Y/n. Nobody would know. They’re not gonna catch me. You can quit, and we can leave.” You looked away, down towards your hands. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” It was all you’d been thinking about. Usually in dreams - obviously your mind was more up to date than you were. You were going to do it, you thought. Of course you were. You looked at him and knew you’d go anywhere he asked you to. Still, though, you had a life. One you needed time to wrap up before you could leave it. You were a federal agent, if you went missing, they’d send the entire nation to step on your heels.

“Can I think about it?

He looked at you, suppressing a smile and tilting his head slightly. “Sure, honey.” He could read you so easily. He’d known he had you from the moment he asked. “I’ve still got two more.” The burning in your stomach wasn’t a resistance to the words. It was an admiration, a feeling you could wallow in. You weren’t an opposing force to him. Had you ever been? Truly?

“What happens if I don’t go?”

His eye contact had a way of transferring, enveloping any part of you it could reach. You were testing him. “Don’t force my hand, Y/n.”

You didn’t plan on finding out what that meant.

#comet: SR #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #x chubby reader #x fat reader #x plus size reader #spencer reid x chubby reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #spencer reid x fat reader #spencer reid fanfiction #suggestive #probably ass #im sorry for this

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jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Hey. Could you please do a Winchester!sister reader fic like the mystery spot episode where Dean dies over and over but can you have the reader be the one who dies over and over again while the boys watch

Groundhog Day

Note: Once again apologising for my lateness but here we are! I actually also wrote this yesterday but I thought it was only fitting to release this on a Tuesday.

warnings: death *and lots of it, It's mystery spot*, grief kinda, time loops, swearing.

Word count: 3.5k

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room. After sitting up groggily and allowing his eyes to adjust to the light he glanced at the clock, hardly noting the time before he turned to his brother who was surprisingly already up and raring to go, having made his bed which he was now perching on as he laced together his boots. He felt the blankets shift around him as you tried to bury yourself into the mattress, bringing the covers over your head to try and block out some of the noise and fall back to sleep.

“Rise and shine, Sammy.”

“Dude.” Sam blinked, swiping his hair from his eyes. “Asia?”

“Come on. You love this song and you know it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, and if i hear it again, I’m going to kill myself.”

“Be quiet.” You murmured from behind the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut and rolling over. You knew it wasn’t going to happen but you were trying to cling onto the idea of getting more than 4 hours of sleep for once.

Dean took a break from trying his shoes to reach over and turn the dial on the radio. The song blasted louder from the speakers. He raised his voice with a grin “What? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”

Sam let out a light chuckle, still bleary with sleep as you sighed and sat up. Dean was still grinning at you before he began to mouth along to the words of the song. You shook your head at him before hauling yourself up and making your way to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Dean had decided that he was going to be annoying today. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to go on the hunt and he was trying to delay it or something or if it was simply because he was being Dean. You decided on the latter because his keenness to be up and ready this morning was unusual. It started with the gurgling when he was brushing his teeth. Then, just as the three of you were about to leave, despite being up before either of you he had forgotten his pistol leaving you and your other brother standing impatiently by the door while he rooted around the motel room for it. He was irritating in the car too and you were itching to jump out of the Impala, praying for the day to end.

The diner was hardly busy when Dean pulled into the driveway. There were only a few cars belonging to passers by occupying the spaces. After securing your pistol in the pocket of your jacket the three of you headed inside. You decided to stick close to Sam; you had an odd feeling about this hunt and weren’t entirely sure what it was but something just wasn’t sitting right with you. Your brothers entered one of the booths and you slid down beside Dean who let out a content sigh as he scanned the menu.

“Hey, tuesday. Pig in a poke.” he read, gesturing to the sign.

“Do you even know what that is?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

The eldest brother opened his mouth to answer only to fall short of his words. Sam gave him a smug look and then pair fell into some sort of childish bickering that you weren’t really paying attention to. You were too busy scanning every inch of the room still unable to shake that uneasy feeling from your mind. Something just wasn’t right. Everything seems so…perfect. It made your skin crawl and you bit your lip.

“Hey.” Sam nudged you under the table with his knee, he had noted the way that you had gone silent and that you were fiddling with your hands restlessly. He knew almost straight away that something was up. You twisted to face him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. yeah.” You muttered. “Sorry.”

You nearly let out a sigh of relief when the waitress came over and distracted your brother's attention away from you. You hated the way that they stared when they were concerned about you. The three of you rattled off your orders before Dean leaned back in the chair, stretching his arm back behind you to lounge about as you all discussed the plan, only interrupted once by the waitress bringing your food and accidentally spilling a bottle of hot sauce which tumbled to the floor and smashed into tiny pieces.

The rest of the day passed by quickly after that.

You did not like the look of the so-called ‘mystery spot’. It was all overly commercialised, filled to the brim with strange and amusing objects that stuck out at odd angles or were glued to the ceiling. The darkness of the room mixed with the obscurity of the place made it come across as quite disorientating. You supposed that was the point. Your strange feeling from this morning was still lingering. You and Dean moved around with flashlights as Sam waved around the EMF. But it was silent.

“Find anything?” You asked.

Sam shook his head.

“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” Dean said rather loudly. He was still set on the idea that this hunt was a complete waste of time and had decided to make it everyone else's problem.

“Uh… yeah.” Sam shrugged until you gave him a look and he dropped his shoulders. “No.”

It wasn’t long after you set off to explore again that Dean’s gun was being cocked. Somehow someone had managed to catch you off guard, causing the three of you to whip around alarmed when his shaky voice boomed through the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He demanded. The man was small and scrawny and would normally be no match against Winchesters, but he was wielding a gun that he didn’t seem to know how to use and his unstable finger was hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

“Woah. We can explain.” Dean started, raising his gun in surrender and gesturing for the two of you to follow suit.

The man moved his weapon uncertainly. “You robbing me?”

“No.” You told him. “Nobody’s robbing you, calm down.”

Dean began to lower his gun, but this only wound the man up more.

“Don’t move!” He demanded. “Don’t!”

“I’m just putting the gun down.” Dean tried to reassure him, but the man was having none of it.

He raised his gun, but before he fired he spotted you moving out of the corner of his eye.

Sam, as worrying of a brother as ever, gestured with a tilt of his head for you to move toward him. He knew that you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, but it made him feel ten times better to know that you were hidden behind his lumbering frame, especially given the recent circumstances that had resulted in so much loss between the three of you. Your movement however, combined with Dean’s haste to put down his gun startled the man and with a fast flick of his arm he had pulled the trigger.

No one had any time to think before your pained scream filled the room. It was quick and short as the bullet lodged itself within your chest and you collapsed to the ground, writhing with an agony so intense that it made white spots dance in your vision like little stars.

“Y/N!” Sam cried out, moving quickly to bridge the short distance to your side where you lay in pain on the cold ground. Sam slid an arm around your back as your other brother dropped to his knees next to you, hovering his hand over your chest where blood had already begun to pool through and seep into your shirt. He was frozen with terror unsure what to do at the sight of your pained expression or the way that your hands clutched feebly at the hem of Sammy’s jacket.

“Call 911.” Sam demanded, turning to face the man who stood there white as a sheet.

“I-I didn’t mean-”

“Now!” Dean yelled.

You whimpered at the yelling. It cuts through your already pounding head adding to the concoction of your agony. You couldn’t see straight, couldn’t hear properly, couldn’t feel anything besides the burning fire in your chest that spread through your lungs like a disease. Your head lolled back against Sam’s arm as you began to taste metallic copper in your mouth, slowly drowning on your own blood that had filled your lungs.

“No. No” Sam said as you writhed in his arms, glancing up bleary eyed at him. Dean pressed down firmly on the wound, and it hurt more than anything but you couldn’t bring yourself to even whine at the contact.

“Come on sweetheart.” Dean pleaded. “Not like this.”

You could see his lips moving but it sounded like he was underwater as your body began to grow numb and your vision slowly faded. You tried to blink away the spots that consumed your vision, but it was no use and your eyes ended up fluttering shut just as your ragged breaths slowed before stopping altogether until you lay morbid limp in your big brother's arms.

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room. After sitting up groggily and allowing his eyes to adjust to the light he glanced at the clock, hardly noting the time before he turned to his brother. He had been here before. He realised suddenly, but this time his older brother was not lacing his boots. Instead he was stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the space beside Sam. He felt the blankets shift around him as you tried to bury yourself into the mattress, bringing the covers over your head to try and block out some of the noise and fall back to sleep. Sam stared at you, startled. He could have sworn that just a moment ago you were-

“Rise and shine, Sammy.” Dean said, with much less enthusiasm as he had before. His little brother furrowed his brows.

“Dean…?”

“I know. Is it just me or are you getting a serious sense of deja-vu?”

He nodded in agreement.

The Winchesters shared a look. Man, something strange was happening and whatever it was, you clearly weren’t feeling the same thing they were.

The diner was exactly the same as it had been the last time the two brothers were here. You were still looking around with the same uncertainty as you were before and you even ordered the same thing as you did before and so did Dean. Tuesday’s special. Pig in a poke.

“It’s tuesday?” He said uncertainly to himself.

You stared at him blankly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “Yeah.”

Sam eyed you strangely and you raised a brow.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” He replied, leaning across the table. “Are you?”

Narrowing your eyes at the pair of boys you asked. “Okay. What’s going on with you two?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“You don’t…you don’t remember any of this?” Sam asked you

“Remember what?”

“This. Today. Like it’s happened before.” Dean.

“You mean like Deja Vu?” You frowned.

“No like it’s really happened before.” Sam stressed. “If it feels like we’re living yesterday all over again.”

“Deja Vu.”

“No. Forget about that. Its-

The conversation was once again cut off by the waitress who was delivering the food. And once again she sent the hot sauce toppling. But this time, Sam caught it before it could hit the ground.

You gave him a charismatic grin. “Nice reflexes.”

The rest of the day did not pass by quickly after that.

Your brothers were trying to explain the situation to you, while theorising themselves. It was safe to say that at first you were completely lost, but were halfway to believing them when it happened.

The car came from nowhere, speeding around the corner. It collided harshly with your unsuspecting body sending you skidding across the asphalt. By the time your brothers had reached you, a trail of blood trickled down your face from the wounds that were opened as your skin ran across the floor. Dean nearly choked on the sight of your pained and bloodied face as he reached you but you were dead before he had even lifted you into his arms.

And then, there it was again. That wretched song, screaming from the radio.

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room and muttered one single phrase.

“Son of a bitch.”

The rest of the day did not pass by quickly after that. In fact, it never seemed to end.

Sam was getting angry now. No. That's not really the right word to describe it. He was frustrated. Tired. Scared. Dean was angry. And growing impatient. But both of them could not bear to live another tuesday. They couldn’t bear to see you fine one second and then dying the next. They had lived through at least a hundred tuesdays, had scanned every inch of the diner, the town, the mystery spot, they had followed the people from the diner and had even tried to keep you in the motel room but no matter how hard they tried they were forced to watch you die again.

The worst part was that you were clueless. Sam and Dean had to re-explain the ordeal to you everytime they woke up to that stupid song again, leaving you back at square one. They had lived through the day so many times that it had gotten to the point where they could both predict your sentences word for word and while it freaked you out, their patience was wearing thin.

Until finally, something changed. Dean had asked the woman he kept bumping into to see her flyer. They finally had a lead. So, the next time Tuesday morning rolled around, they felt hopeful as they filed off the information to you.

“When’d you get time to do all that research?” you asked through a mouthful of food.

Dean did not have the energy to answer, so he just stood, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time here.”

That was when Sam spotted it. The sticky, pink syrup sat in the dispenser next to the half eaten pancake. He frowned, stopping suddenly. When you noticed his absence you turned and asked him what was wrong.

Sam watched the man leave through the slats in the blinds. “That guy has maple syrup for the last 100 tuesdays, now all of a sudden he’s having strawberry?

“It’s a free country, Sammy. A man can’t choose his own syrup now? What have we become?”

“Not in this diner.” Sam shook his head. “Not today.”

“Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. “ Dean told you. “Except us.”

The two brothers nearly lost their shit when they woke up again, but by the time they had suffered through the morning routine and had reached the diner they had come up with a plan.

There were no conversations during breakfast. The pair left you to ponder over your own thoughts after mentioning the idea of a time loop. Any of your questions went unanswered as they stared down the man, jumping into action when he rose, pushing the stool out with an ear splitting squeal and making his way to the parking lot.

Dean gripped the man firmly, forcing him against the fence by the scruff of his neck and silencing his protests. “We know who you are. Or should I say what?”

You watched very confused from the side.

“Oh my god-” the man begged, wide eyed. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Uh, Boys-”

“It took us a hell of a long time, but we got it.” Sam seethed.

“What?!”

“It’s your M.O that gave you away.” He continued. “Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just deserts. Your kind loves that, don’t they?”

“Yeah. Sure. Okay! Just put the stake down!” He pleaded, side eyeing the weapon that Sam pressed to his neck. Sam refused to move.

“Sammy, maybe you should-”

“No!” He yelled at you. The tone of his voice was so unexpected for Sam that you recoiled. “There’s only one creature powerful enough to do what you’re doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops- In fact, you’d pretty much have to be a god.”

“You’d have to be a trickster.” Dean spat.

“Misters…” The man pleaded shakily with tears in his eyes “My name is Ed Coleman. My wife’s name is Amelia- I’ve got two kids! For crying out loud I sell ad space!”

“Don’t lie to me! I know what you are!” Sam shouted into his face.

“We’ve killed one of your kind before.”

There was a heavy paused before the grey hair and wrinkles on the man before you morphed into the all familiar face of the trickster you and your brothers had run into not too long ago.

He smirked and your brothers’ faces dropped. “Actually, you didn’t.”

“Why are you doing this? Why her!?” Sam pressed, digging the stake into his neck.

“You’re kidding?” The trickster replied “You all tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn’t I do this? Why not make you three suffer.”

“So this is funny to you? Killing her over and over again?” Dean gritted his teeth.

“One- yes, it is fun. And two -this is so not about killing Y/N. This joke is on you two. I mean… come on. How great has it been to watch you to see her being torn apart again and again. Watching your sister die everyday. Forever.”

“You son of a bitch.”

The trickster smiled. “How long will it take you to realise you can’t save your sister, no matter what.”

“Oh yeah? We kill you, this ends now.” Sam growled.

“Woah. Okay, look. I was just playing around. You can’t take a joke, fine. You’re out of it. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and it’ll be wednesday. I swear.”

“You're lying. “

He shrugged. “If I am, you know where to find me.”

“But you better promise me, I’ll be back in time-”

Sam couldn’t contain the gasp that fell from his lips. “It’s wednesday!”

“Yeah…?” You said from across the room where you were rummaging though your bag. “Which usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that crap off, would you?” you asked him.

“No. Leave it on.” Dean interjected. He agreed with Sam. If he heard Asia one more time he was going to kill himself. “Isn’t that the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard?”

“...No. Jesus, how many Tuesdays did you guys have?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Dean sighed. “Wait..what do you remember.”

“I remember you two being pretty whacked out yesterday. And then i remember running into the trickster. S’bout it really.”

“Right. Whatever. Lets get out of here.” Sam said as he pulled on a shirt.

“What? No breakfast?” You asked, slightly upset that you were going to miss out on the diner food you had quite enjoyed yesterday.

“No breakfast.”

Sam and Dean were still inside when they heard it. The unmistakable pop of a gun being fired. You were outside loading the last of your things into Baby and-

Sam's heart sank.

“Y/N!” He cried, dropping what he was doing and racing down the stairs towards you.

The offender fled the moment the gunshot had sounded and your two brothers could see him rounding the corner, but their concern was on you, sprawled out across the floor in a pool of your own blood.

They shook you, crying out your name but you didn’t move. Your heart had stopped beating.

“No. This isn’t supposed to happen today.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, only to nearly cry when he opened them again and you were still lying lifelessly in his brothers clutch. “We’re supposed to wake up.”

And then, he began to cry.

Part 2 may be coming…I’ll add it to my to do list

308 notes · View notes

corrodedseraphine · 1 year

Text

easy | one shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: "But Eddie has a girlfriend!" Dustin said first. "He does?" Adam asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I do?" Eddie muttered under his breath trying to understand what was going on. "Yeah, he is dating my sister y/n!" Will continued. "They're so in love with each other it's disgusting." Dustin rolled his eyes.

Everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that neither you nor Eddie were informed in advance of the fact that you were a couple.

It promised to be a very interesting week. angst/fluff and almost smut (making out in the bathroom), friends to lovers

In this AU Joyce didn't move to California, but Argyle is there in Hawkins because he is too cool to erase him just like that.

TW: mention of injuries, blood, murder, drugs

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

9 591 words

When I first got the idea, I thought it would be a very short and pleasant story. As standard, it turned out quite differently!

I know I said this fanfic wouldn't be related to any song, but as I was writing I was listening to one of my favorite songs about love Safari by Piotr Zioła on loop and couldn't resist adding elements of it in there.

eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

"Here are my favorites!" Wayne said entering Eddie's room with a big cardboard box.

"Please let me tell Dustin that you called us that, this little shit will lose his mind." Robin grinned.

"He knows it. This is my uncle and sometimes he loves you guys more than he loves me." Eddie replied with a mouth full of pizza.

You were sitting in the Munsons' new apartment. After the huge compensation Eddie got from the government, they decided to give up on the trailer park and find a place where power failure and lack of hot water would not be on the agenda. You, of course, helped them with the moving out. Unfortunately, Eddie's condition was not the best so with the carrying furniture and cardboard boxes Steve, Jonathan, Argyle and Hopper helped Wayne. You, Robin, Nancy and Joyce took care of painting the rooms, but now it was time to eat to strengthen yourselves before continuing. You sat in a circle on the floor, since you hadn't yet had time to assemble the table. Suddenly there was the sound of a telephone in the apartment. Wayne went to answer it and returned after about 10 minutes with a worried expression on his face.

"If it weren't for the fact that the police chief is now sitting across from me I'd think I'd messed something up again." the younger Munson joked, to which Jim just rolled his eyes.

"We'll have visitors next week." sighed the old man.

"Who?"

"Remember aunt Theresa and her son Adam?"

"Jesus, no!" his reaction spoke for itself.

"They want to come for a week."

"So at the moment when we live in a trailer and can barely afford anything they don't want to know us, but when we suddenly get a lot of money and a new apartment they feel like suddenly renewing family ties?" he asked with disgust in his voice.

"It's only a week Son, you'll survive."

"Nope. I won't survive. Hopper you don't have a free cell for a week? I'll be much better off there than in their company."

"Don't be dramatic, kid." he replied.

"Joyce! Have mercy on the victim, store me for this time in your basement, you won't even notice I'm there," he whined. "I just got you out of the hospital, the doctor said that I am categorically forbidden to do any extreme activities!"

"How can a family visit be extreme?" Steve asked.

"When you meet them you'll understand."

You finished eating and everyone went back to their duties, but you went to help Eddie with changing the bandages. From the very beginning you were the only person he allowed in, because you handled him most delicately of all. You knew that Wayne was trying his best, however, Eddie always dramatically confirmed that everyone else wanted him to die in pain.

He sat on the edge of the tub as you cleaned each wound in turn. He hissed in pain from time to time, each time you heard it you sent him a slight smile whispering that it would be over soon and everything will be fine. When each wound was thoroughly cleaned you moved on to applying the ointment.

"Why do you dislike your family so much?" you asked while rubbing the ointment into his cheek.

"They have always considered themselves the best of the family, just because they have money. They love to brag about it, if they could they would wear badges that say 'we're fabulously rich, sucker,'" he said rolling his eyes.

"That doesn't sound too good." You sighed.

"I'll be hearing all week about how worthless I am. Too stupid to graduate from high school on the first try, too controversial looking to get a good job... The list goes on, if I were to list everything we'd have to sit here until night."

"Hey, look at me." you said grabbing his chin and turning him so that he was looking straight into your eyes. "You're not worthless. You saved the world, Eddie. You saved us all. The only worthless thing that exists is your hopeless aunt's words, do you understand?"

"You saved me, too. More than once." he whispered surprised with your words.

"I would have done it a second time without hesitation."

When you found yourselves in the Upside Down after passing through the gate at Lover's Lake the Demobats took you as their target. Without a second thought, Eddie rushed to your rescue when one of them wrapped its tail around your neck. Later, while Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Robin dealt with Vecna together the two of you and Dustin were supposed to distract the monsters. Unfortunately, Eddie had no intention of listening to Steve and feeling a surge of courage he cut the line when you and Dustin returned to the trailer on the good side. That didn't stop you from jumping after him. You don't know if it was the adrenaline or the despair that overwhelmed you when you saw him that made you and the others able to get him back out the other side. The option of getting out of hell without Eddie simply didn't exist for you.

"I just... I don't want Wayne to be ashamed of me. I don't want him to listen to all the crap they say about me because I know he cares. He tries not to show it but I can see it. And that's the worst part of it all."

"Wayne loves you. And I know he would do anything for you. It's normal that when someone talks nonsense about people we love it upsets us. Remember when you had to pull me forcibly away from Craver who was bullying Will? I thought I was going to tear him apart then. I probably would have if it hadn't been for you."

"To be honest, you were terrifying, I was scared as hell," he laughed.

"If necessary I'm ready to defend you from your crazy family too. I just need to grow my nails so I can claw out their eyes better." you answered. When you saw the smile light up his face as well, you felt your heart skipped a beat. You meant it in all honesty. You would do anything for the people you love. He didn't need to know that you loved him in a little different way than the rest.

When the ultimate day arrived Eddie was sitting in his room with Dustin and Will working on the details of the next D&D campaign. This was to be Will's first time as Dungeon Master for the whole group so Eddie, as always, eagerly offered to help. They were fiercely discussing the final boss fight when the door to his room swung open gently and Wayne showed up in it.

"Hi Uncle Wayne." Dustin and Will said simultaneously.

"Hi boys. Eddie? Our guests have arrived." As soon as the last word left his mouth the door swung open wider allowing his aunt inside. There was a look of displeasure on Wayne's face at the fact that she had walked in there as if it were her own room, but he didn't comment. Immediately after her, her son Adam walked in.

"Hello, Edward!" she said in an overly high tone, looking around the room with a judgmental gaze. "Why don't you give an old aunt a hug as a greeting?"

"I'd love to, but unfortunately the doctor has forbidden me to have close contact with other people." Eddie replied in a flat tone causing the younger boys to snort quietly with laughter.

"Hm... I see you still haven't grown up. Adam threw away all his toys the moment he started high school."

"These are not some toys, they are needed for our campaign." He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Are you still playing that satanic game?" interjected Adam.

"It's not- Yeah, you know what? Yes, I play the satanic game all the time. Actually, I'm the leader of the cult now, and these are its scary members Dustin and Will. Before you say anything, yes, I am bringing the Hawkins youth to the dark side of power to worship Satan with me." Their visit had so far lasted only five minutes and they had already made Eddie think about how much more fun it was to be ripped to shreds by demobats.

"Alright." Wayne interrupted his dramatic speech before things got too far. "Why don't I show you the rest of the house and the neighborhood?" Without a word they left closing the door behind them.

"Dude, they're awful." commented Dustin.

"Are you still playing this satanic game?" Will began to mock Adam.

"This is going to be the worst week of my life." The metalhead rubbed his face with his hands.

For the next few hours, Eddie didn't leave his room for a step, knowing that the enemy was sitting right behind the wall. He tried to focus on Will's campaign but anxiety and nerves didn't help him one bit. When the doorbell rang around the apartment all three of them left the room knowing it was Hopper. However, they didn't expect it was Aunt Theresa opening the door for him.

"Good evening officer!" she said. "My name is Theresa Munson, is something wrong?" A confused Hopper sent Eddie a questioning look, to which only the latter rolled his eyes.

"Nothing happened, I-"

"Did Eddie get into trouble again? I know he's been in trouble with the law several times before," she sighed. "Edward I'm sure what you did was not intentional right?" She didn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"What the fu-" Eddie didn't have time to finish when Wayne came out of the bathroom.

"Jim! How are you?" he said shaking Hopper's hand.

"Good." he replied still somewhat surprised. "I came to pick up the boys."

"Oh, so you're not here after because of Edward? What a relief!" his aunt interjected.

"Unbelievable!" Eddie exclaimed, banging his head against the wall.

"I'm just worried that you'll follow in your father's footsteps! Look at you, tattoos? torn clothes and that satanic music you listen to? That doesn't bode well, does it, officer? If you don't change something about yourself you'll never find any girlfriend or a good job."

It was a punch below the belt. Mentioning his father was crossing the line. Seeing Eddie clench his fists and the knuckles on his hands turn white Will and Dustin sent each other a communicative look.

"But Eddie has a girlfriend!" Dustin said first.

"He does?" Adam asked crossing his arms over his chest.

"I do?" Eddie muttered under his breath trying to understand what was going on.

"Yeah, he is dating my sister y/n!" Will continued.

"They're so in love with each other it's disgusting." Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Come on boys, we have to go." Hopper said, interrupting this bizarre exchange of words. "Your mother will kill me if we don't get back before dinner."

With that, the two teenagers left them all in shock, including Eddie. After they left, he quickly locked himself in his room thinking about the situation. Apparently you are a couple now. How should he behave around you now? He didn't know what to do with all this. These two little bastards had just put him in a game of pretend relationship with the girl he wrote all his love songs about. On the one hand, it was a great opportunity for him to finally make a move on you. On the other, he was paralyzed by the fear that nothing but rejection awaited him.

"You can pick the place." Hopper said as soon as they got into the car.

"What place?" asked a puzzled Will.

"Where I can bury your bodies when y/n finds out what you've done."

"Oh come on! Everyone knows very well that she has a crush on him!" Dustin exclaimed.

"They're both only have eyes for themselves, we're just helping them finally do something about it." Will tried to defend them. "Just helping!"

"Even if it's true what you're saying, they should come to it by themselves, not by your wild ideas," he sighed. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm not going to get involved."

And Jim was right. As soon as you found out what they had done you were furious, yelling at them that they had no right to decide for the two of you and put you in such a strange situation. However, it was too late. Locked in your room, you nervously played with your fingers while looking at the phone standing on the bedside table, not knowing whether you should dial the number to the Munson's house and explain the situation. Apologize for the behavior of these little shits and hope that your relationship will not worsen because of it. Plunged into your thoughts, you didn't even hear the knock at your door. After a moment of unresponsiveness on your part, Jonathan and El entered the room.

"Will told us what happened." began Jonathan slowly, sitting down next to you. El wordlessly followed him. "You know very well that they didn't mean a bad thing," he said.

"You can come in too." You sighed still looking at the door. After a moment, your younger brother emerged from behind the wall and, not knowing what to expect, walked slowly into the room.

"I know that a simple apology is not enough!" he began to defend himself. "But this aunt is really awful person! She started comparing him to his father, she thought Hopper had come to arrest him, or God knows what! She said he would never find a girlfriend, so we wanted to help him a-and then this idea came to our minds! At firs it didn't seem so bad. We thought...I am really sorry y/n."

"It's okay." you said quietly and you extended your hand towards him. "I forgive you." He ignored you hand and hugged you tightly with a relief.

"Eddie didn't protest, I think he liked the idea." he said quietly and you smiled.

Despite the fact, that thinking that Eddie liked the idea of being your pretended boyfrend for a week made you feel very warm you weren't able to stop thinking about what Will have just told you about his aunt's behaviour. She compared him to his father? Your blood boiled inside you. No one had the right to say such a thing, and you set as your goal to make sure it wouldn't happen again. At least not on your watch.

All Tuesday from the very morning you could not sit still. Lessons went on mercilessly, still thinking about the situation into which you were embroiled. When you told Robin about it at lunch she looked quite excited saying that finally something would happen between you two. She was the only one who knew how you truly felt about him and from the very beginning, she was trying to persuade you to finally do something more than rambling to her about your feelings. In her opinion, Eddie should be the person to actually listen to it. The longer you thought about it the more you had to admit that the excitement was getting to you as well. Yet you still didn't know what Eddie thought about it.

When the final bell rang, you quickly ran out of the school, got on your bike and headed toward Munson's apartment, stopping by a bakery on the way. Once there, you took three deep breaths and knocked on the door, which Wayne opened a moment later.

"And who do we have here?" He asked with a smile.

"Hi Uncle Wayne." You said answering with the same. "Is Eddie home?"

"I don't know where else he could be, come in." He let you in. "This is my sister Theresa and her son Adam. And this is y/n," he said as you walked deeper into the apartment. They were both sitting on the living room couch watching TV.

"It's very nice to meet you!" you said in an over-sweetened tone.

"We are also pleased to meet you." Replied a somewhat puzzled aunt.

"Did I hear my favorite Bayers?" Eddie leaned out of the room with a broad smile. Seeing his reaction you took it as permission to take it a step further.

"It's good to know that my little brother hasn't stolen that title yet." you laughed walking up to him. "Hi, Teddy." You kissed him on his healthy cheek. Not expecting it, he fossilized for a few seconds but after a moment he woke up.

"Hi baby." he said, smacking you on the forehead. "I see you've already met my wonderful family?" he added with a hint of sacrasm.

"Yes, Wayne introduced me." you confirmed. "Did you change the bandages today?" you asked wanting to change the topic.

"Not yet." he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"So here's the plan: First we'll change your bandages, then we'll take care of the school notes I brought you." you announced "Ah! I almost forgot! I was also at the bakery on the way, and I brought your favorite doughnuts."

"I told you she was the best." he said proudly looking his aunt straight in the eyes. Wayne watched you from afar with a smile on his lips. Pretend or not - it was nice to see you in such a position.

When you disappeared behind the bathroom door, free from the prying eyes of his guests, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you..." he said quietly. "For playing along."

"Will told me about what you heard from her. I thought instead of clawing her eyes out right away we'd show her how wrong she is. If you don't mind, of course."

"Of course I don't. I was afraid it would be you who would mind. Those little shitheads hadn't decided anything about it with me before."

"So since neither of us has anything against it..." you said. "You told them I was the best?"

"Of course, and it wasn't even a lie!"

It took you more than two hours to come to grips with the notes. If Eddie had dispensed with his dramatic episodes the time would have been about half as short, but you were in no hurry. Sitting behind the closed door of his room nothing changed too much, your relationship from the very beginning was very good and full of laughter that reached the eavesdropper Theresa and her son. After finishing his study, Eddie played you some new songs he had written in his spare time. Three of them were related to each other telling the adventure of fighting the worst kind of evil, which was full of throwing fireballs, manipulating thoughts and knife-sharp fangs tearing skin. The fourth had no words yet. That, at least, was the version for you. The piece of paper with its words was tucked deep in the closet along with the rest he had written thinking of you. So that it would never see the light of day.

As dinner time approached Wayne called you into the living room where you helped set the table and get a few things ready. Eddie accompanied you, watching as you casually moved around the space talking and joking with his uncle. Feeling a pleasant warmth on his heart, he thought if it could stay like this forever. The way you jokingly patted his hand when he tried to snack, or when you pretended to be a princess in distress unable to open a jar, so he as a brave knight would come to your rescue. Such behavior was not something new for you, but this time as a wonderful addition, from time to time he could steal a little kiss from you on the cheek, forehead or tip of the nose, or without hesitation hug you from behind when you were standing at the counter cutting vegetables for a salad. You then leaned gently against his frame, creating an enclosure of safety around you. You both tried desperately to remember the feeling you had then if it was about to disappear as quickly as a soap bubble.

"So how did you two meet?" Theresa asked as you all sat down at the table.

"Eddie was friends with my twin brother, Jonathan, so it was only a matter of time before we met." you replied while putting food on your plate and then doing the same only with Eddie's portion. "I must admit that from the very beginning he had something about him that caught my attention." You continued.

"Interesting." she hummed. "Edward, how's the situation at school?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to finally get out of high school? You know you won't be young forever." she paused briefly. "Adam is studying in New York. He's one of the best, he's getting a scholarship."

"That's great." you commented, not wanting to drag the subject further.

"And what are your plans after graduation?" Adam turned to Eddie with a contemptous look.

"I don't know, at this point I'm just trying to get better." He shrugged his shoulders without taking his eyes off the food.

"Eddie is great with cars!" you blurted out. "Before the accident he used to work for a local mechanic, he really appreciated him." You placed your hand on his, which was lying on the table. When you squeezed it gently he looked at you and sent a slight smile showing a dimple in his cheek.

"Well, yes, but without education you can't find a good job," he said.

"I believe that if someone is good at their craft they don't need any high degree at all to succeed. And Eddie is the best, and I'm sure that as soon as he finishes high school this year he will be very successful." Your voice was still kind however this time a hint of firmness could be sensed in it.

The rest of dinner passed in silence. When you had finished eating you helped to clear the table and wash the dishes. Then it was time to go home.

"My mother and Jim are hosting an engagement party this Friday. She said to tell you that you and Adam can also feel invited. It's going to be great fun, right Eddie?" you said already standing at the door.

"Of course sweetheart." he replied with a fake smile hating the idea of them being there with all his heart.

For the last time that day you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Although it was gentle Eddie felt as if your lips were leaving a permanent mark there, which imprinted all the way on his heart.

The rest of the week looked similar. Except for the day of Hellfire, you came to him after school bringing notes and spending the rest of the day together. You could get used to such a course of events, unfortunately, when Friday came you felt nostalgic about the fact that this could be the last of the days like this. Theresa and Adam were going home Sunday morning which meant that these were also the last days to enjoy Eddie's closeness. Feeling a weight in your chest, you got off the bike and headed toward the apartment. You didn't expect Adam to open the door for you. He was shirtless. You immediately felt extremely uncomfortable and wanted to turn back but he stopped you.

"Wayne and Eddie went to get some groceries, you can wait for them inside." he said smiling broadly.

"Thanks." you muttered and squeezed past him in the doorway.

"I just finished doing my home workout. You know, we have a gym at the university, so I go there every day, I can't stop." He winked at you coming closer. Responding nothing with a quick step you walked to the living room and began to unpack the contents of your bag. In addition to your notes after school, you entered the store and bought the new figures for D&D that Will kept talking about that they would need for the new campaign. You carried the notes to Eddie's room, then sat down on the couch in the living room and began spreading out the figures and paints on the coffee table. Adam never took his eyes off you, watching your every move making you feel increasingly nervous.

"Do you play this stupid game too?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I participate in campaigns from time to time." You replied shrugging your shoulders. Not wanting to lean on the couch as his arm was stretched across the backrest, you aimlessly moved things from one place to another, making you not notice how close he was to you. It reached you when you felt his hand on your cheek. Surprised, you looked in his direction and immediately jumped away standing up on your feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" you shouted.

"Oh come on, don't you wanna mess around? It will be a while before they come back from the store." he said getting up from the couch.

"Jesus, no! Have you lost your mind? What made you even think that I might want something like that?"

Adam was wrong. Eddie and Wayne returned from shopping, but you were so preoccupied with the situation, and your voice was so loud that you didn't hear the door open. Eddie, seeing you with his half-naked cousin in the living room, felt his heart suddenly get very heavy. He was just turning to leave the apartment and not look at it when Wayne grabbed him by the arm and with a hand gesture showed him to be quiet and watch what would happen next.

"So you're saying all this talk about having a crush on him when he was just your brother's friend is true? You fell in love with a trailer trash who worships Satan? The scars are turning you on?" he smirked. "A better Munson is now standing in front of you, baby, don't waste this opportunity."

"Don't you fucking dare to say one more word!" He crossed the line. It wasn't even about how he behaved toward you. You were too concerned about what he called Eddie. "I tolerated your and your mother's snarky behavior just so I wouldn't make Wayne uncomfortable. But since he's not here now I'm happy to answer your questions. Even homeless Eddie would be much better than you. You don't measure up to him you damn asshole! I don't care about your expensive car you are so enthusiastic about, I'd rather walk everywhere my whole life than get in it. I don't give a shit about your apartment in New York. I would have had a better life homeless under a bridge. And yes, I loved Eddie when he lived in the trailer, I loved that he made me feel at home there, trailer or not I fucking love him so you have to remember that the next time you talk shit about the person I love nothing will hold me back anymore. I will make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life. I'm disgusted with you. I'm disgusted by how self-absorbed idiot you are and how your ego blows the scale. And you are right. You're damn right that these wounds are incredibly attractive. Do you know why? Because they remind me that my Eddie is a fucking hero! You don't even realize how many lives he saved back then! So yes, he and his scars are the hottest in the world and definitely much more hotter than your pathetic gym routine." The words flew out of your mouth like bullets. The shock on his face encouraged you even more but then you heard the door slam.

"Adam?" the voice of Wayne made you tighten your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath.

"Y/n! Good to see you!" he said bringing in the shopping bags.

"Hi Wayne." you said getting the nicest and the calmest tone you could afford at that moment.

"Sweetheart!" before you had time to respond Eddie with a quick step and a wide smile on his lips was already at your side. What you didn't expect, however, was what came next. He cupped your face and kissed you. Eddie was kissing you. You experienced a three-second shock and then completely surrendered to the kiss by placing your hands on his chest. His nose gently touched your cheek, you felt its tip was cold. Yet his lips were burning. Even though the kiss was brief, you felt as if your soul had left your body and had travelled to a completely different dimension. Was it a dream? If so, you didn't want to wake up.

After Eddie heard what you were saying, he felt he had to do it. Many times he saw you defending your loved ones from all kinds of attacks. You weren't afraid to cover Will with your own body when Vecna tried to get him, so verbal attacks were not a problem for you. You also handled this one very well. More than once he had the opportunity to witness this. Now you were doing it for him. This awakened completely new feelings in him. He was sincerely touched and happy. In that moment you gave him something he had not felt since Wayne took him in. He felt wanted and loved. Even if it was pretended at that moment. Nothing could take that moment away from him, so he decided to take a risk. The risk definitely paid off. He enjoyed every second of it. The satisfaction was also a bonus. He wanted to show "the better Munson" that you were his. As if what you said wasn't enough. He wanted the kiss to be a seal saying she is perfect, and she is mine. Damn, he wanted you to be his so bad.

As if nothing ever happened, you sat down on the couch with Eddie and took up painting. You didn't say a word about your exchange with Adam, and Eddie pretended he hadn't witnessed one of the best moments in his life. Painting took you a lot longer than you expected. Plus more because every now and then you glanced in his direction focusing your attention on his mouth as he told you more details of the campaign. Could you have become addicted to something you had only tasted once?

"They are being chased by a pack of wild mutant lions so they run into an old hut where the master of nightmares is waiting for them." He tells you while gesturing with his hands. You're interested in what he's saying, but damn did his lips always look this beautiful? "Earth to y/n!" he yelled clapping his hands.

"Shit, sorry, I zooned out." you woke up suddenly. "So what exactly is it about the master of nightmares?"

"He throws you into a vision that replicates your greatest fears," he said.

"And what is Eddie the Banished's greatest fear?"

Losing you. That was his first thought. "Y'know it will probably be bats." he cuckled and winked at you.

"I am so sorry Eddie, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, clam down." he said, yawning.

"You're tired, I should go."

"No, stay." he grabbed your hand. "I mean... if you want to of course, I thought you'd wait until they're dry to take some home for Will."

"Oh, sure." a smile crept onto your lips on its own as you accepted the proposition. Lips. You had a feeling you never thought about that particular body part as often as you did today.

"We can chill a little in my room." he suggested. You knew perfectly well what he meant.

"You know very well that I won't agree to this kind of chilling." You crossed your arms over your chest. "Those strange doctors have made it very clear that until the traces of the Upside Down are out of your system for good, there is no question of smoking anything."

"But- please! Have mercy on my poor soul." fell to his knees in front of you making you giggle.

"Don't you dare use those puppy dog eyes on me Munson. It's for your own good." you said softly and tenderly stroked his cheek with your thumb.

"You heartless woman." he faltered, laying his head on your lap.

"Okay, I am able to bear the weight of those words." you chuckled. "There are many other ways to relax, you know? We can listen to music, or read."

"Will you read to me?" he asked raising his face toward you. Big chocolate button eyes glared at you. His face looked so innocent. Rarely did anyone get a chance to see it, since Eddie almost always wore his mask. The fact that he didn't have it with you made you feel very special.

"Come on, adventure awaits!" you helped him stand up and walked to his room. After a moment of deliberation and dithering about whether you should read The Hobbit for the millionth time, you decided that this time it would be some new fantasy book that Wayne had bought Eddie while he was still in the hospital.

"Wayne won't mind that I'm staying this long?"

"Of course not. Besides, we still have some time before they come back."

"We have plenty of time before a pack of wild lions reaches us?"

"And before one of your worst dreams hunts you down" He replied and patted the bed indicating for you to lie down next to him. With that, you began to read, but after a short time you both began to get sleepy. The dim light of the bedside lamp, the warmth that eminated from the two of you, the comfort and peace that you felt in each other's company succulently lulled you to sleep. When you heard a quiet snoring in mid-sentence you looked at its source with tenderness in your eyes. Feeling your own eyelids getting incredibly heavy you put the book aside. Just five minutes. You thought and, moving closer to the boy, allowed yourself a small nap.

It was not as small as you thought.

"Yes, Joyce, you have nothing to worry about." Wayne said. "They were already asleep when we got home, I don't want to wake them up. Yes, I'm sure. They will manage, they are adults. Yes, it won't be a problem for sure. Okay, bye. See you tomorrow." Eddie lazily opened his eyes and rubbed them with one hand. He listened to his uncle's words looking on in disbelief that you were still here. And much closer than before he fell asleep. He brushed your hair away from your face as gently as he could so as not to wake you up.

"Hey, kid." Wayne whispered. "I talked to Joyce, she can stay."

"Thanks, Wayne."

The man smiled and winked at him, closing the door behind him. Eddie took the blanket that lay at the other end of the bed and covered you. In your sleep you turned your back to him and he took the opportunity to embrace you becoming a big spoon. Feeling you move even closer and snuggle into him he thought his heart was about to explode. Your back touched his abdomen causing a slight pain in the areas of the still healing wounds, but this pain was bearable. Besides, it was nothing compared to the happiness he felt.

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the cracks in his blinds and his watch indicated the unmercifully early hour Eddie sighed unhappily. He had never been one of the early birds, and there was no promise of change in that regard. When he opened his eyes he remembered why he was actually sleeping in his clothes. You must have turned in the night because now your face was facing his. You kept one hand under the pillow and the other lay on his side. He wanted to close the gap between you and wake you up with a kiss like in one of the cheap rom-coms, but he didn't know if he could let himself do that. Kissing you in front of his cousin was justified, since you were going to pretend to be a couple, you had to be convincing, but wouldn't doing it when it was just the two of you be too much? He was weighing all the pros and cons when he noticed your eyes slowly open.

"Good morning Eddie." you said stretching.

"Good morning, panda." he replied in a whisper. You looked at him questioningly, and with his thumb he lightly rubbed the black mascara marks under your eyes that must have formed there overnight.

"Oh, shit." you said while covering your face. "'m sorry." you muttered and sat down on the bed.

"Don't be, you look cute." So cute I want to kiss you again and again and... again. His brain didn't let go recalling these visions every now and then. Instead, he simply told you that if you wanted to dress up you could borrow something from his closet. Since your top was a bit sweaty after the sleep, you agreed by taking one of the Hellfire shirts and went to quickly get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom. Then you waited for Eddie to shower and get dressed and helped him with his bandages as you always do. You had seen him shirtless countless times, but now that he was sitting in front of you on the bathtub in only loose sweatpants you were overcome by a feeling that you only allowed yourself in the privacy of your room by fantasizing about your friend. You were afraid of the fact that these fantasies were now at your fingertips, and before you could stop yourself your hand actually moved toward him. Eddie, as if in a trance, equally enchanted by the moment, watched your every move. Your fingers gently traced a path on his body. Starting with a healthy cheek, continuing on his neck, shoulder and then chest.

"Do you like what you see, sweetheart?" he said, unable to catch his breath.

"Very," you whispered biting your lower lip.

"I like what I see, too." He confirmed by pushing your hair off your shoulder. He imitated your movements. Starting by gently brushing your face, neck and arm which was slightly exposed by the fact that his shirt was too big on you. Your breathing became faster and faster as you rested your forehead against his. His hands quickly found their way to your waist pulling you as close to him as he could. And then you kissed him. No matter how close you stood to each other until your lips were joined the gap was too huge. Initially shy and tentative sparks ignited a fire. The desire that had been bubbling inside you for a long time exploded. Still kissing you, he got up from the tub pushing you toward the wall so that you were trapped between it and him. Trapped? You were not going to escape even if you were to burn in this fire. As he laid wet marks on your neck you sank your hand into his curls. The temperature was hotter than hell when you felt his hands go under the shirt you were wearing. His lips returned to yours as he pressed his body against yours and you felt how hard he was. You thought you were going crazy.

"Eddie..." You didn't control the moan that spontaneously left your mouth.

"Yes, Angel?" he asked pulling away from you. His eyes were darker than usual but on his lips was the same smile as always. The same dimple-showing smile that made your knees weaken.

"Please." That was all you could get out of yourself before you put your hands on his neck pulling him close. This time he was the one who moaned right into your mouth and started to roll up your shirt to take it off. And then a fire truck arrived. A huge bucket of icy water to extinguish the big fire between you. A big downpour called Theresa.

"Hello? I think you've already finished changing the bandages! Some people need to use the restroom!" she shouted, knocking quickly and hard on the door. Of course she was eavesdropping. Of course she was doing her best to squeeze in where she wasn't needed. Eddie moved away from you and unlocked the bathroom door. Visibly angry, he passed his aunt without a word and went to his room to get dressed. He was definitely uncomfortable with the fact that they could see his wounds. When he returned, he noticed you in the hallway putting your shoes on. Seeing his sad expression you smiled slightly.

"I have to go help my mom get everything ready for tonight's party." You explained grabbing his hand. "But don't miss too much, we'll see each other in a few hours, right?"

"Yeah." one corner of his mouth lifted

"See you later." In farewell you kissed him on the cheek and left the apartment. Leaving him alone with thoughts of what the hell just happened.

When you got home, you didn't have much of a chance or time to think about the morning's events. You and the rest of the household threw yourselves into the whirlwind of preparations. You sat with Mom and El in the kitchen while Jonathan and Will helped prepare the garden, carrying chairs and tables there. After some time, Steve and Eddie also came to help. Because of his condition, Eddie stayed close to you in the kitchen and Steve went to help set things up in the garden. There was a kind of tension between you and the metalhead, but it wasn't bad. All the time you were sending each other glances and smiles. When you handed him vegetables to cut, his fingers brushed yours. The tiny gestures created a kind of attraction between you, which was terribly hard to resist. Despite everything, you did not bring up the subject of what happened just a few hours ago in the bathroom.

The party was going on at its best, Hopper and Wayne were sipping beers while keeping an eye on the meat on the grill, and right next to them at the table sat Joyce, the Sinclairs, Mrs. Henderson, Jonathan, Will, Eddie, and Theresa with Adam, who today was being extraordinarily, suspiciously nice to Eddie. Shouts and laughter came from the other end of the garden. Together with Dustin, El, Robin, Argyle and Steve you were playing fresbee, while Lucas and Max cheered you on from the sidelines. The disc flew out of your hands almost every time though you didn't give up. Seeing your persistence Eddie couldn't hold back a smile.

"Eddie!" shouted Will. "Are you even listening to me?" he rolled his eyes.

"Of course! You were talking about the new campaign."

"Yeah! What exactly?" Silence and the Dungeon Master's reddened face was the only answer he got.

"Will give him a break, you can see that something else is on his mind." interjected Jonathan. "Or rather, someone?"

"Is that someone our sister?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." he muttered while covering his face with his hair.

"So, Theresa! How is life in New York for you, life in the city must be very interesting!" the voice of Joyce caught the attention of all three so they turned their heads towards the aunt.

"Oh, it is! It's also very hard. It's hard to maintain the role of the Munsons, who have not followed in the family footsteps." she laughed artfully. "Fortunately, we're doing great with Adam."

Eddie's leg began bouncing under the table at an incredibly fast pace.

"What does that mean?" Joyce asked a visibly confused.

"Our family doesn't have a very good reputation, as you well know. Not many of us are able to get out of a miserable life in a penny trailer or avoid owning a police cartorette." She sent Eddie a quick glance, through which he knew he was about to receive the final blow. As his aunt continued, his leg began to move even faster, which did not escape the Byers brothers' attention. They both sent each other somewhat frightened glances but did nothing, waiting for the situation to unfold. "When we found out that Eddie was wanted for murder we were immediately horrified that he had followed in his father's footsteps-" she didn't have time to finish when Eddie stood up abruptly looking at her. Father. A word that caused even more pain than the pack of demobats tearing through his body.

"Don't-" he began in a shaky voice. "Don't you dare mention him. Don't you dare call that man my father, you understand." he tried to be calm. In truth, with all his might he wanted to be self-controlled now, but it all seemed too much. All week he had bravely endured everything she said about him. But now when she did it in front of everyone he cared about, when she did it in front of your family, pulling the strongest card in the process he couldn't stand it. Wayne and Hopper became alarmed and walked closer to the table, but that didn't stop him. "This man is nobody to me. A stranger. A fucking sperm donor nothing more. He is a murderer. He killed my mother, and your sister. His last name is Davis. Not Munson." He felt something tighten in his throat. Something making it difficult for him to breathe. "My father's name is Wayne Munson. He raised me, he changed my last name, so don't you ever dare call that man my father again." Saying all this, he looked her straight in the eye. He wanted to make sure she understood every single word he said. Feeling tears come to his eyes and he quickly turned away walking into the house. He couldn't afford to cry in her presence. That's why it wasn't until he was in your room that everything he held inside gave vent. Angrily, he grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it with all his strength onto the floor then sat on it himself while leaning against the bed. He took the pillow cuddling his face into it. As the smell of your scent filled his nostrils even more tears flowed into his eyes. Like tentacles full of venom, thoughts of Aunt Theresa being right wrapped around his mind. He thought he wasn't worthy of you. Maybe she was right that he didn't have a good future ahead of him. If he couldn't provide it for himself how could he provide it for you as well? How could a freak hated by the whole city be worthy of someone as wonderful as you? He felt like screaming. At that moment he hated himself even more than his aunt.

"I thought I'd find you here." Hopper said as he entered the room and sat down next to him.

"Yeah?" Eddie earned a smile while wiping away tears.

"Actually, I think that would be everyone's first thought."

"So obvious."

"Listen... I shouldn't say this, but your aunt is really insufferable. Don't worry, okay? Everything she said was one big bullshit."

"Looking at how many times I rode with you in the police car I wouldn't agree," his words were bitter and full of sadness.

"I know you Eddie. I admit that at some point you were not on my list of favorites, but later I got to know you from a different side as well, and I have to admit that Wayne did a great job raising you."

"Wayne is a great guy," he said.

"So are you." Seeing Eddie only nodding in the negative, he sighed heavily and continued. "I know the man your aunt was talking about. And you are nothing like him. You almost died protecting my kids. You are a hero. And you make one of my daughters damn happy, so as far as I'm concerned you're one of the best people I've met in this messed up life."

"You think I make her happy?" the wall of sadness was shot through with tiny hope.

"Very happy. That's why I don't even want to dig into why she came home in your T-shirt today."

"That- it's not what you think," he began to explain.

"I said I don't want to hear about it. Besides, she came back today very smiling. I haven't seen her like that in a long time."

"Eddie what happened? Jim?" when you noticed that Eddie had disappeared from the table you asked Will where he had gone, and he only said that towards the house, without giving you any details. Moments later you found him sitting on the floor with Hopper. His eyes were a little puffy and red, and you knew he had been crying. You were afraid that Hopper might have said something that led to this, and as if reading your mind he raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

"I didn't do anything. Your boy just felt a little worse, you know yourself how wounds can sometimes give you a hard time."

Hearing this seconds later you were on your knees next to Eddie. "Do you need painkillers? Maybe you need to rest? You can stay here and sleep." With concern in your eyes, you watched his eyes become even glassier. "What can I do to help you, Eddie?" without a word he pulled you close with a hug. You were his safe heaven. He knew that with you he could be vulnerable. "Eddie, I don't want to hurt you, I don't want your wounds to hurt you even more." You said quietly scared that such closeness could inflict more pain on him.

"I don't care 'bout them," he muttered into your hair.

"Come down to us when you're feeling better, we'll be making a fire soon to toast marshmallows." Hopper said, leaving you alone.

The two of you sat cuddled together for some more time. When you returned to the rest of the party, you didn't leave his side for a moment, making sure he was feeling fine and everything was okay. The rest of the evening passed peacefully, especially when you all sat around the campfire listening to the melody of the acoustic guitar that "slays dragons."

When the day of salvation arrived and the intruders left the Munson kingdom Eddie could breathe a sigh of relief. Even Wayne admitted that their visit was too much to bear and they deserved a rest. Still, Eddie could not rest. Staring at the ceiling, he wondered what your relationship would look like now. Will you forget everything that happened? Such as how close you were to each other? He tried everything to clear his head. Playing his guitar, writing songs, planning campaigns, drawing- nothing. Completely nothing was able to pull his thoughts off track. Countless times he approached the phone and was already almost grabbing the receiver but chickened out at the last moment. At the point when he could no longer handle himself he sat down on the couch with Wayne and they watched TV in silence. But whatever was playing on it didn't help. Then he heard a knock on the door. The thought crossed his mind that maybe it was his aunt who had returned, which in itself made him feel sick. Fortunately, it was you. Although the look on your face didn't indicate that you just came here to hang out. You were nervously biting your lips and your eyebrows crinkled together as you played with your fingers.

"Eddie, we need to talk." you said when he let you in and without a word you went to his room.

"What's wrong? I know pretending to love me for a week was hard, but I didn't think it was that hard." he tried to joke.

"Shut up!" you exclaimed. Your lower lip began to shake and tears came to your eyes. You had thought about the course of this conversation many times before coming here, but you didn't expect to be so carried away by your emotions. Seeing his surprised and then somewhat hurt look made you feel terrible for having erupted like that. He deserved an explanation. He deserved the truth. He didn't deserve yelling at him, for sure.

"I'm sick of how badly you talk about yourself. I'm sick of how you think you're not worth loving, because- because loving you is easy, Eddie! The easiest." you began, feeling like you were about to die of nerves, but you came here with a purpose and you were going to fulfill it. "I want to love you the way you deserve it. And you deserve the purest, the most honest and the strongest kind of love in the whole world. And I know that if you only let me, I will be able to give it to you. But I want you to know that I will understand if you don't feel the same way about me," the last words passed through your throat with extreme difficulty. You were ready to take the risk. A broken heart was a better option than keeping your feelings for him hidden. Especially since you had the opportunity to see what life at his side might look like. It looked like a dream. And you have to fight for dreams.

"You know I'm not the best at talking about feelings." he sighed. "So I'll use a little help," he said taking a couple of D&D figures in his hand and sat down on the bed. You sat down across from him. "If this were one of the campaigns I would say that a very important part was when Eddie the Banished and Y/n Golden Heart had a battle that lasted a week with two, extremely nasty monsters," the figurines portrayed a small fight scene. " After the monsters were gone they both met, in King Harrington's palace in the lobby, just by the door. Not feeling like feasting, they sneaked out and climbed onto the roof of a small shed that was nearby. Under the cover of night, they felt like they were the only people in the world. The night was beautiful. And the fact that evil was not lurking just around the corner gave it an added charm. The wind gently rustled between the trees, the hushed sounds of the feast could be heard in the background, and they were so immersed in a conversation they had created that they forgot about everything else. They talked about comets, about the next adventure that awaited them, about anything they wanted to talk about. The stars in the sky shone brighter than usual. They heralded the beginning. A good beginning." He grabbed your hand. It was a little sweaty because he vas nervous but you didn't care about it at all.

"How do you know it's a good one?" you asked quietly sniffing and feeling that you were calming down. You've always known that Eddie is amazing at storytelling, but this was the first time it involved something so sensitive.

"As the first shades of orange appeared in the sky and the sun gently began to illuminate his companion's face, Eddie the Banished realized a very meaningful matter."

"What kind of matter?" you waited impatiently for the continuation.

"From the very beginning as soon as y/n Golden Heart appeared in his life he couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't remember anything because all his thoughts were directed only toward her. At first he thought she charmed him with a bunch of curses, after all she was the most powerful witch in the kingdom. Because of this, he thought, he felt a constant need and desire to always be by her side. Having once been under the influence of the fumes created by the powerful herbalist Argyle, he wondered what kind of magic it would take to reduce him to the size of a rat, so that he could hide in a pocket in her robe to be by her side for a few moments longer." He laughed, and you dreamily listened on. "His life was like a hurricane. It rushed dangerously with unimaginable speed bringing with it a lot of destruction and dangerous changes. But despite the hurricane, he waited for a warmer front. That morning when y/n the Golden Heart closed her eyes and smiled slightly feeling the warm rays of the sun surround her face, he realized that she was the warmer front. They had survived a lot, rescued each other by pulling out of fires and getting out of rivers, defeated the scariest monsters in the kingdom. And they were together. They never left each other's side. It reached him that his feelings were not caused by curses. What he felt was stronger than a curse. It was love. Simply put, he was in love with her, and to his last breath he wanted to be with her."

"Eddie..."

"Yeah?"

"How many points do I have to roll to kiss you right now?" hearing this sentence from your mouth he knew that nothing more was needed for his happiness, so without hesitation he joined your lips together.

Eddie was right that this was the beginning. A very good beginning.

taglist: @i-me-mine

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builtbybrokenbells · 11 months

Text

Gold Dust Woman

Amidst a battle of silent pining over Sam Kiszka, y/n begins to believe her feelings are a bit misplaced after months of receiving nothing in return. A night of attempting to drink away his memory results in a messy hookup with the worst possible person. Now stuck in limbo with being in love with Sam, and in lust with his brother, she’s left to navigate her way out of the grave she’s dug for herself.

Read part two here

listen while reading: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: SMUT18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), hookups, pet names, sort of angst?, embarrassing crushes, unrequited feelings, some feelings of guilt, drinking, swearing, partying, sorry if I miss any!!

howdy. new series on the way! here’s chapter one! slutty jake is my weakness, so here’s basically a whole chapter of him being a little shit disturber. and surprise surprise, i drew a little inspiration from my fav song, too 🫣 there’s a lot of fantastic work out for the forbidden twin lane, so I’m definitely a little nervous to post. also really trying hard to keep my stuff original! as always, enjoy, please be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

Sam. Sam fucking Kiszka. The bane of your existence, but also the light of your life. Caught between hopelessly pining after him, and also wishing you’d never met him. You found yourself stuck in a never ending loop, constantly battling yourself and always refusing to give in to either side. It was relentless, exhausting, but exhilarating all the same. Always caught up in his minuscule movements, the small expressions that nobody else cared to look for, hanging on to every word as if it was necessary for survival. Whatever was so special about him, you weren’t sure. Even so, you couldn’t deny that you were wrapped around his finger, desperate for a hint of reciprocity. Desperate for the feeling of his hands on you, and the knowledge of what it was like to be wrapped around him. Unfortunately for you, it never came. You never spoke it aloud, never made it known that you felt such a way, because he never gave any idea that he looked at you as anything more than a friend. So, to avoid rejection, and to maintain the peace, you kept your mouth shut. Suffering in silence was better than disrupting the entire friend group.

So you sat, immersed in conversation with his best friend, caring little about the words exchanged, and more about what Sam found himself occupied with across the room. It was uncharacteristic for you, to be so uninterested in the person in front of you, but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. He was addicting; fuelling you more than any amphetamine, more comforting than any opioid, and haunting you with no sign of easing his hold. And just like any other drug, he gave you nothing except an empty promise of lasting fulfillment. You wanted to rid yourself of him, never again speak his name or think of his face. At the same time, you never wanted him to go away. You wanted every aspect of your life to be laced with Sam’s being, just so you never had to fear losing him.

The liquor in your cup was achingly strong, pleading with you to ease off with each sip you took. Still, you continued, bargaining with yourself that the burn of the alcohol was more soothing than your relentless thoughts about Sam. Plus, it was a sure way to forget about him. “What’s on your mind?” The question almost produced a laugh from you. You looked to the speaker, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Uh, nothing of importance.” You answered in the most truthful way possible. Your thoughts were not important; far from it, actually. It was an endless stream of ideas all running back to the same pool of topic. One that wasn’t worth speaking into existence, mostly because you were already certain it would never amount to anything beyond a hopeless daydream.

“Oh, come on, y/n.” Danny pried. “All of your thoughts are important. I think so, at least.” You gave him a chuckle, appreciating his kindness.

“You ever get the feeling that the universe put something in your life solely to make you suffer?” You posed the theory, finally looking to meet his eyes.

“I mean, yeah.” He nodded. “Karma is real, I believe in that stuff.”

“Yeah, me too, but that’s not really what I mean.” You eased back into the sofa, feeling the tingle of tipsiness start to spread throughout your limbs.

“What do you mean, then?” He took a long sip from his bottle of beer, making you turn up your nose in disgust. You had no idea how anyone enjoyed the stuff. Alcoholic bread water was not your choice of beverage, and you made sure the boys were aware of that. You hoped maybe they’d jump off the beer train and settle on a drink that actually tasted good, instead of pretending to enjoy the bottles of craft swamp water.

“I don’t think it’s necessarily karmic. Sometimes, people do as much good as they can, and still seem to find themselves in the middle of suffering.”

“So, bad luck?” He chuckled, trying to piece together your drunken ramblings.

“Sort of,” you shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.” You dismissed the topic, regretting bringing it up in the first place. Perhaps you were letting the alcohol lead the conversation, failing to understand that it would ultimately lead back to the boy you were trying to drown the memory of.

“I’ve got time.” He assured you. You reached for the bottle cap resting on the table, flicking it in the air with your thumb and catching it in your palm.

“I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for this, Danny Boy.” You sighed.

“Try, at least. Your drunk rambling is my favourite part of these parties.” You caught his eye, laughing at his admission.

“They tend to be quite comedic, don’t they?”

“Sometimes. Other times they’re pretty insightful, I think. Your alter ego may be a philosopher of sorts. You have a lot of wisdom up there.” He reached over, gently knocking against your skull with his knuckle, giving you a grin. You couldn’t help but return it, despite your despair. As much as Sam Kiszka plagued your ability to enjoy yourself, you found solace in Danny’s company. He was always a great listener, and consistently had a few good jokes up his sleeve begging to be told.

“You’re too kind to me, Daniel. It’s a trap, you know. Inflate my head a little too much, and it’s just chaos. You’ll never get rid of me.”

“I’m fine with that.” He drained the liquid from his bottle and reached into the cardboard box for another. You watched him as he placed the cap to the edge of the worn down wooden table. He brought his hand down on top of it, freeing the bottle effortlessly. “I enjoy your company.”

“Charming.” You hummed, the foam from the carbonated liquid fizzling out the top and spilling on to his hand. “Seems like you’ve made a mess.” You pointed out. He shook off the bubbles, watching them land with a splat against the concrete floor. He wiped his hand on his jeans, ridding himself of the dampness.

“So enlighten me, then.” He settled back into the lawn chair after he pulled it as close to the couch as possible. You pondered your choice of words, unsure of where to begin.

“Karma is effect from cause.” You started, eyeing your drink suspiciously. You leaned forward, grabbing the pint of vodka and placing your cup on the table. As you watched the crystal liquid flow, you let your heart decide when to cut it off. You topped it off with some more soda, returning your attention to your company. “Some things don’t really feel like that. When you do something terrible, you wait for something to come back and bite you in the ass, to cause you some of the turmoil you’ve given to others. At least, normal people feel that way. Some don’t, but that’s another story for another day.” He nodded in agreement. “Sometimes, things happen, or people show up, or whatever it be, and they completely change the way your world works. In this case, I mean in a bad way. You don’t feel like you’re deserving of it, and you don’t necessarily feel like it’s an issue with luck. They’re there for a reason, but it’s just a shitty one.”

“So a lesson.” He deducted. Your eyes shifted towards him, your head cocking to the side ever so slightly. Eventually, you gave a slow nod, appreciating his input.

“Yeah, a lesson. That’s a better word for it.” You guided your straw to your mouth, sucking gently and feeling the spread of warmth fill your chest as you swallowed.

“So what is your lesson, tonight?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You sighed. “I guess I’m more concerned about the why, rather than the what.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” He agreed.

“Why do some people need lessons? I mean, we all have to learn, but why does it always have to be so disastrous to do it?”

“Guess it leaves a larger impact.” He theorized. “If the lesson doesn’t hurt, you’re less likely to remember it.” You murmured a sound of understanding, realizing he was right. Whatever lesson Sam was teaching you must have been incredibly important, because it hurt like a bitch.

“That’s why they invented alcohol, Danny. So people like us can use it to ignore any hurtful lessons. I’m nothing if not spiteful, even to the universe.” He chuckled, reaching over and tilting his bottle towards you. You knocked your glass against it lightly, a gesture of gratitude for his listening ears.

“So that’s what you want to do tonight? Drink away your lesson?” You nodded.

“For the time being. It’s alright, because it’ll still be trying to teach me in the morning.”You both fell back into a silence, watching the crowd flutter around the room. Your garage had become the scene for social butterflies. Current friends and those of the past always stopping by for a quick chat, a good drink, and enjoyable music. You didn’t mind hosting; it made your home a lot less lonely. For someone who chose to surround yourself with people, you felt that way quite often. Always someone to say hello to, but never anyone to share anything meaningful with.

For a twenty-something socialite, who cared more about a good time than anything else, you’d done quite well for yourself. You started off without much of a chance, born into poverty and destined to remain there. In retaliation, you fought the expectation tooth and nail. You started working the minute you could, and saved every dollar you earned as long as the situation permitted. As soon as you turned 18, you vowed never to look back at your hometown. Since then, you hadn’t. You went to school, got a degree, and continued to work until you collapsed. Then, you got up the next day and continued on. The relentless effort never stopped until your hands were on a set of house keys that you could call your own. Now, you worked on your own schedule as a well-renowned music producer and backpacked off artists success, as you liked to word it.

You would much prefer to be the person behind the glass, but as the world allowed it, you remained behind the scenes. It was certain money rather than blind luck, and you appreciated your security more than passion. It was easier that way, especially with nobody to fall back on. So, you settled for Friday night shows at local bars, just you and your acoustic guitar, and no hope of anybody remembering your name. The too-drunk regulars seemed to love your performances, but as you saw it, any drunk fool appreciated something they could dance or sing along to. The production part wasn’t all bad, of course. It gave you some real friends, which you’d never really had before. Danny, being one of them. Well, all of the boys, really, despite your complicated relationship with Sam.

You’d made plenty of friends through the industry, some lifelong and some temporary. It was a plus to your success, meaning you never had to be alone. If you knew anything about musicians, it was that they loved to party, and you had an ample amount of time and space to do so in. Your house was rarely ever unoccupied, but when it was, the silence was deafening. You’d allowed so much room in your life for company, that you were almost unsure what to do when you were alone. Danny and his brothers solved that problem for you quite easily, always inviting you for hangouts and showing up to your place when the opportunity arose. They never went too long without communicating, and spent even less time away from you. Despite your hesitancy, they had slowly grown into a part of your every day life. As much as you hated loneliness, you also hated vulnerability. Unfortunately for you, they had made it a mission to know you fully, and they were doing a damn good job at it. Although you were still reserved, they knew more about you than anyone else.

As much as you tried to complain, you were eternally grateful for the great connection with such fantastic people. Even though your feelings for Sam complicated the nature of the situation, you couldn’t deny that they were genuine, sincere people, and you were lucky to have them around. They made life more interesting, and curbed the fear of isolation. And, in addition, they were pretty fun drinking partners. “Still thinking about that lesson?” You turned to look at Danny again, finding his concern endearing.

“Not particularly.” You eased his worry. “There’s always a brighter side to the story.” You gave him a smile, one filled with genuineness.

“Do I happen to be the brighter side?” He gave you a look of exaggerated excitement.

“Yeah, whatever, don’t give yourself too much credit.” You laughed. Your attention was grabbed by Josh walking by, a bottle of tequila in his hand and a dopey smile on his lips. He brought it to his youngest brother, bringing the bottle to his mouth and prompting him to take a drink. “We’re next, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, can never really escape him, can you?” You shook your head, still focused on the interaction. Josh pulled the bottle away a bit prematurely, causing a bit of liquor to spill down the front of Sam. It glistened on his chin, dripping down onto the exposed part of his chest, shining in the low light. You swallowed hard, having to stop yourself from fixating on the completely innocent mishap. Still, you couldn’t help but stare at the illumination, wishing to have access to the rest of him, desperate to see more.

You didn’t have time to linger, because just as you expected, Josh plundered towards you both. He made his entrance by producing the alcohol in front of you both with a messy extension of his arm. The liquid sloshed, some catching in the neck and spraying from the top. “You’re wasting precious tequila, Josh. Stop throwing it around like that.” You scolded. He nudged his pit vipers to his forehead, letting you see his eyes for a moment. They were glazed over, only proving his drunken stupor even further.

“Me? Waste?” He challenged.

“Yes, you, wasting.” You replied. He let out a hum of disagreement, taking a step towards you.

“Open.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes, but obliged to the request. You let your lips fall open, tilting your head back to allow him access. He tipped the bottle gently, letting the liquor waterfall into your mouth. You swallowed, fighting back the grimace you so badly wanted to give. He smiled in triumph, quickly turning his focus to your counterpart. You wiped the stray liquid from your face with the back of your hand, unable to escape the smell of it. Danny let out a shudder after his shot, feeling similarly to you.

He didn’t hover long, his mission complete and leaving him ready to move on to his next target. “He’s hammered.” Danny noted.

“Usually is.” You chuckled. “It’s okay, the spare bedrooms are all yours.”

“I can try to get him home,” Danny looked over, worried about overstaying his welcome.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know you guys can always stay here.” You tried to brush the sentiment off, hoping your tone sounded more nonchalant rather than heartfelt. In truth, you loved the nights they stayed. It meant you didn’t have to wake up to an empty house. You scanned the room, forcing yourself to move past Sam when your eyes inevitably landed on him. He was chatting with a girl you weren’t familiar with. Although the parties were almost always held at your house, that didn’t mean you knew every face or name. Sometimes, friends brought their own friends, or partners, or coworkers. She was likely one of those, who took a keen interest in Sam.

You couldn’t blame her; he was gorgeous. If you had her confidence, you’d be up there with him, too, batting your eyelashes and ghosting touches over his arm with a sultry smile. Of course, that didn’t mean you had the ability to ignore the pain that stemmed from the sight. Your stomach twisted with every lingering smile and flirtatious gaze. You thought it ought of comical, you inviting him over and hoping he’d spend a second talking with you, but he always found himself immersed in another girl who was a bit more interesting than you.

You continued looking, locating Josh with ease. He hadn’t given up as the tequila tyrant, and was still forcing the awful liquid onto others. You were certain he only bought it because it sounded good in theory. Once he had enough of it, he wanted to get rid of it as fast as possible so he didn’t have to drink it anymore. As you searched, you realized you hadn’t seen the fourth boy who so often took solace in your company. You thought it was quite curious, unsure of where he could be. You decided it was best to stop being so concerned with the whereabouts of everyone else, and worry about your own well-being. You’d been drinking for a while, and still couldn’t seem to break out of the Kiszka chokehold. You decided your best course of action was to focus on having a good time, and maybe keep your mind occupied with someone else for the night.

“Beer pong?” You eyed Danny, hopeful for an enthusiastic response.

“Yeah, why not?” He said, making a move to stand. He held his hand out to you, helping you off the couch. As you stood, you realized you may have had more alcohol than you thought, finding your legs a bit wobbly and your head light. Danny kept his hand on you, picking up on it, too. “You alright?”

“Yeah, and you’re gonna get your ass kicked.” You said as a matter-of-fact. You both toddled towards the ping pong table, noticing that it had already been played on a few times that night. You took to one side and Danny went to the other, rearranging your cups in the correct order.

“Hey, I want to play, too!” A voice sounded from behind you. You looked back, noticing Josh making his way towards you.

“We need a fourth, then.” You informed him.

“I’ll get Jake!” Josh was normally loud, but with a single drop of liquor in his system, he always found himself stuck in a state of permanent yelling. It was something you had to grow used to. The adjustment period was not easy, mostly because every time he tried to speak to you, you thought he was yelling at you. After a few weeks and a lot of reassurance, you began to notice that he also spoke that way with everyone else. Now, things seemed too quiet if Josh wasn’t around to make a ruckus.

As if it were some sort of secret twin telepathy, within moments Josh returned with his brother. After not seeing him all night, Josh seemed to have the power to locate him as he wished. The two made their way over, Josh immediately joining Danny on his side of the table, leaving you with Jake. Not that you minded, but the unspoken assumption was a bit rude, you thought. “And where have you been, all night?” You asked Jake, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked, taking a stand next to you.

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked.” You grabbed a ball out of a cup, shaking the water droplets off the plastic.

“Don’t be like that, now.” He smiled. You looked to the side, catching a quick glimpse of his face. The mystery of Jake was yet to be solved. He was quiet, always a bit more reserved than the rest, but hilarious in his silence. Most of his jokes were spoken through expression, and every phrase was well thought out and immaculately delivered. You were yet to break through his shell, and you were eager to see more of him; a need for connection beyond the surface, even.

But, even so, it was the same with you. You had mastered the illusion of connection without really having to share too much. It was a way of protecting yourself, even if it was a little fake. Despite that, the friendships you formed with the four boys were more real than any you’d ever had. Even if they barely knew you past the surface, it didn’t make the love you had for them any different. They knew more than any one else, and you were sure with time, you’d get comfortable enough to open up a bit more. “I’ll be nicer if you can help me win this.”

“What’s the reward?” He asked. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your skull.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” You replied, taking your first shot. The ball bounced off the rim of the solo cup, falling inwards and plopping into the water.

“Don’t get me excited.” You could hear the smirk in his words before he even stepped into your line of vision. He lifted his arm, tossing the ping pong ball with little care. You watched it land in the cup that yours had, unsure of how he lined up a shot like that without even trying. You looked towards him, finding he was already looking at you. “Better be something good, sweetheart.” A tingle ran down your spine at the pet name, never having heard such an endearing word from him.

You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe the vodka, or maybe how the light, even as dim as it was, seemed to cast a golden glow over his features. Or maybe it was his quiet tone and impactful words, or the scent of whiskey and sandalwood, paired with the faint lingering of a Cuban cigar that was heavenly enough to burn itself into your memory. Whatever it be, for the first time in the entire history of knowing him, Jake caught your attention in a way other than friendship. He was hot, and that little monster of a voice in your head was screaming it over and over again, not letting you forget it. The close proximity of his body to yours was driving you insane, leaving you curious as to what it would be like to reach out and touch him, just for a moment. The bottom two buttons of his shirt that were holding it together was not leaving much to the imagination, and you were quite thankful for it, tonight. Although, you did find it a bit limiting. A hidden desire arose, leaving you wanting to rip it from his body to expose the rest of him. Once it appeared, it didn’t seem to want to go away.

In your moment of weakness, the animalistic nature of your attraction posed a residual feeling of guilt, almost as if you were cheating on Sam. You were painfully aware that the feeling was ridiculous; the memory of Sam’s arm snaked around the unnamed girl quickly pushing its way to the forefront of your thoughts. Clearly, he had no interest in you, so why should you feel guilty over such a simple, natural feeling? It wasn’t as if you professed your love to Sam and immediately took to Jake within the same minute. Attraction was normal, human nature, and you felt no need to be shameful about of it. Both men were completely unaware of your affection, and it would be easy to navigate, specifically because of their ignorance. Silent pining and daydreaming about both of them was fine, you deduced, because you were confident in your ability to make sure they never found out. Besides, you were in love with Sam, and attracted to Jake. Two very different things, and neither would ever cause an issue as long as they remained unspoken.

So, you decided, if Jake was willing to initiate it, a night of harmless flirting wouldn’t matter. In the morning, you’d both move on and forget it ever happened.

It’s crazy how the human brain can justify a terrible decision when you want it bad enough.

“Your turn, angel.” Jake broke you from your internal brooding with a delicate hand on your back. For a moment, you thought you could live in the feeling of his touch forever. He handed you the spare ball with his free hand, the cool water on his fingertips offsetting the surging warmth of his skin. You took it, meticulously arranging yourself in the perfect place before throwing. Another splash of water signified the landing of the shot, causing a noise of triumph to sound from you. When you came down from your momentary excitement, you could still feel Jake’s palm resting on you. It was an intriguing sensation, imploring you to think further about the nature of the gesture. “Hidden talent?”

“Wouldn’t call it hidden. Maybe you just don’t know me as well as you thought.” You quipped. He elected not to respond, throwing his ball and landing it in another cup.

“If we win, you gonna let me see all the parts of you you’re keeping secret?” He said, leaning in provocatively close to your ear. You weren’t sure where his newly found fixation on you came from, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe the cloud of whiskey he enveloped himself in was calling the shots, pushing him to test his limits. Before now, you couldn’t recall a time where your conversations even toed the line of flirtation. Unless, you’d been embarrassingly oblivious to his advances, which you wouldn’t be fully surprised if that were the case. You were a professional at overlooking even the most obvious displays of interest, so much so that even the current situation had you second guessing his lingering touches and provactive statements. Plus, with the added distraction of your feelings for Sam, the idea of romance with another person never really crossed your mind.

“Depends on how bad you want to know about them.” You replied, the note of disregard for his statement seemed to spark a nerve in him, driving him a little bit crazy. He was nothing if not fond of a challenge. And in his eyes, you were more than worth the effort.

“Stop flirting and focus on the game!” Josh hollered, catching both of you off guard. As if you were two children being scolded by a parent, you both took an immediate step away from each other with a hint of a blush on your cheeks. With that, Josh threw a cannon of a shot and completely missed the table.

“You don’t even have any distractions, what’s your excuse for being shit?” Jake taunted, a laugh hidden in his jab.

“Have you looked at me, lately, Jake? I’m beautiful. I don’t have to be good at anything.” The comment rolled so slickly from his tongue, like he’d completely forgotten he was supposed to be joking and was speaking straight from the heart. Jake cocked his head to the side, trying to relate the two together and make some sense of his statement. You let out a little laugh, nodding your head in appreciation of his words. You couldn’t deny that all four boys were very attractive, even if you had a hard time seeing past Sam and his blinding beauty. “See, even she agrees.” Jakes eyes flicked towards you, inquisitive of your quick response.

“So what does that make me?” He asked you. You watched him, unsure of what he was hinting at. “If I’m good at the game, does that mean I’m not beautiful?” He clarified. You swallowed hard, the bluntness of his question hitting you with force. He gave a small smirk, one that radiated cockiness. He knew your answer without you even having to reply, but he was determined to hear the words.

“No, you… you are.” You assured him, feeling ridiculous for stumbling over your words.

“Glad you think so, sweetheart. You are, too.” He turned back towards the table, not lingering to watch the redness spread across your face, fully satisfied with your response. Josh caught your eye, giving you a wink that said more than any words he could speak. Even in his drunken state, he was painfully aware of his twin brothers intent. You looked to Danny for guidance, only to find him choking back a laugh and unwilling to hold your gaze.

‘Great’ you internally grumbled, mortified at the attention being on yours and Jake’s current situation. Whatever that was, exactly, was completely unknown to you. You were stuck somewhere between wanting to tell him to fuck off, and wanting to tear his clothes off and have your way with him right there. You had no idea when Jake became such an outlet for your closeted wants. No clue if he just suddenly became so attractive, or if he had been the whole time and you were just blind to it. Either way, every hint of cologne, sideways glance, every ghost of a touch, each laugh that fell from his lips, and every word he spoke was driving you crazy.

“Last shot, y/n. Make it count.” He hummed, taking a step back from the table. You have a curt nod, silently letting him know you would. You aimed, ensuring your arm was steady, and held your breath as you tossed the ball. It circled around the rim, leaving all of you on edge. After a few seconds, it rolled off to the side, sadly plummeting to the table and bouncing to the floor. You let out a long exhale, disappointed in the outcome. It was the only cup you’d missed so far. “S’okay,” Jake gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I got it.” You took a step back, allowing him to take his turn.

Once again, with a lax stature and careless approach, he threw the ball and effortlessly landed it in the cup. A collective groan sounded from the opposite side of the table, both boys floored over the fact they lost. Instead of focusing on their bellyaching, your attention was completely stolen by Jake snaking his arm around you in celebration. You turned your head towards him, noticing nothing but the breathtaking beauty of his smiling face. He pulled you into his side, hand resting dangerously low on your back.

“Nice job,” you breathed, the warmth of his body distracting you from anything else in the room. He turned his head down to look at you, his face inches from yours.

“You, too.” You relaxed into his hold, playing into whatever game he’d started. You turned your body towards him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He wasn’t expecting the sudden change of pace, his fingers tightening against you. “Come and find me if you’re willing to share those secrets, angel.” He said, mouth practically on your ear. Before pulling away, he placed a small, innocent kiss to the side of your head where his lips were hovering, as if it balanced out the filthy invitation.

Before you could respond, he disappeared again, much like the entire scene was a figment of your imagination. The only reason that led you to believe it was real was the residual tingling he left on the spots he’d touched, and the prickle of goosebumps across your skin. That, and the growing feeling of arousal in the pit of your stomach. You looked back to the table, cheeks flushed and heart racing. You grabbed your drink, hoping to sip away the memory, painfully aware of how easy it would be to chase after him. How easy it would be to take him to bed, to give in to the temptation of feeling him on you, or in you, more so.

You bit down on the inside of your lip in a desperate attempt to satiate the sinful thoughts you were having about Jake. You knew you weren’t supposed to be feeling such things for him. Your blind, although misplaced, loyalty to Sam was screaming at you to stop. Still, there was a small, but loud, little devil that took permanent home in your head. It was ensuring you that one night wouldn’t be so bad, that the feeling of his hands, and his tongue, would help you to forget anything other than pleasure. You swallowed hard, forcing your imagination to stop fabricating such grand ideas, forgoing the straw on the drink and chugging the rest of it down.

“So, is that the lesson you’ve been so deep in thought about?” Danny asked, now presenting himself in front of you. The shock of his company cause you to inhale a bit of your drink, leaving you coughing and sputtering for a moment. He gave you a couple firm pats on the back, aiding you with the expulsion of the liquid from your lungs. Once you recovered from the moment of disarray, you looked to him, not being able to find a proper answer.

“Uh, not particularly.” You chuckled.

“So maybe this one’s an answer. Or an apology from the universe for all of the turmoil.” He grinned. It was so characteristically Danny to always have something positive to say. He was a little ray of sunshine, never getting on anyone’s bad side and always trying to keep the peace. Normally, you loved him for it. Now, with the presentation of his new idea, you wanted to strangle him for instilling such an thought in your head. You wished he would have called Jake out on his abnormal behaviour, or scolded you for playing with fire. Perhaps, you thought that deep down, he knew what you were struggling with all along, and this was his way of letting you down easy. But, you would have preferred him to say anything other than speak encouragement for the incredulous notion, even if it happened to be him telling you that Sam hated you. Any discouragement for that little devil in your head would have been helpful.

“Probably just another lesson, Danny Boy.” You sighed, making a move towards your bottle of alcohol. You poured yourself another drink, hoping the subject would drop off into another, less invasive one.

“Not everything has to be a lesson, y/n.” He scolded, but his tone was light. “You’re allowed to have fun, too, you know.”

“Seems like more of a headache to me.” You grumbled as you screwed the cap back on the glass bottle.

“Jake is quite delightful to be around, actually.” He insisted. Instead of responding, you continued to focus on your drink. He tapped his foot against the ground in an impatient manner, expecting a response.

“Headache, Dan.” You finally answered. “Can’t really go sleeping around with my only friends. Sounds messy, to me. Perfectly fine how things are. If he wants to flirt himself to death, he can be my guest. I’m sure tomorrow he’ll come to his senses.”

“Always such a negative Nancy.” He let out a disapproving tsk. “Balls in your court. I won’t push you. On another note, I am willing to hear all about those so called lessons you seem to dread.” He took his earlier seat in the lawn chair, relaxing into it. He grabbed another beer as he did so. “If you want to share, of course.”

“You’d love to know, wouldn’t you?” You smiled.

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Little gossip rag?” You teased. He let out a laugh.

“So that’s what I get for wanting to help out a friend?”

“Yep,” you popped the p at the end of the word, giving him a smile. As much as you disliked his persuasion in regards to Jake, he was still your best friend. You couldn’t find it within yourself to stay annoyed with him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go freshen up. Winning a game of beer pong really takes a lot out of a person.”

“Oh, okay, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “We let you guys win.”

“Careful.” You hummed. “Nobody ever teach you that you shouldn’t lie?” He waved you off, dismissing you completely. You shuffled away from him, your giggle lasting until you were long gone from his company.

You disappeared through the side door of the garage, leading into the kitchen of your home. When you got inside, the first thing you noticed was a group of people gathered by the table, mindlessly drinking and conversing about nothing spectacular. So much so, that you didn’t even bother to listen in or look for a familiar face. You continued on in search of the bathroom, happy to find it vacant. You closed the door behind you, letting the tough exterior fall along with a long sigh. You turned to the mirror, studying your face for a moment. Your makeup stayed valiant through the nights events, the only wear being your lipstick. You searched through your cupboards, locating your makeup box and pulled out the correct one, reapplying it where need be.

When you were satisfied, you did the rest of your business and washed your hands. When you returned to the hallway, the muted chatter in the kitchen was still lingering, but there was a softer, more alluring tone coming from the direction of your bedroom. You turned your head towards it, following the sound almost as if it were calling to you. When you peeked your head inside, a soft smile began to grow on your lips. Jake was sat on the edge of your bed, hair falling in front of his face, picking away at your acoustic guitar.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to play my guitar, Jacob.” You teased, but your words were gentle and there was no malice present in the air. He looked up to you, a bit startled by the sound of your voice.

“Oh, sorry. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t.” You assured him. “Why are you up here all alone? Party too boring for you?” You took a step inside, a step closer to him, one that you shouldn’t have made at all.

“No,” he shook his head, attention now focused on you. “Just a lot, I guess. It’s fun, I like it, but I’d rather do this.”

“Want me to leave you to it?” You asked, worried you had intruded. He laughed at your question.

“Asking me permission to stay in your own bedroom?” He cocked an eyebrow up, tilting his head to the side to make sense of the question. You almost expected a witty comment to follow, but he bit his tongue.

“No,” you said, pondering what you were really asking. “Uh, I guess I was just wondering if you wanted to be left alone.” You gave an anxious chuckle.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” He noted. “Don’t mind company, especially if it’s you.” You felt the same dreaded redness creep onto your cheeks, unsure if you should advance. He patted the spot beside him on your bed, finding your hesitancy in your own home ridiculous. You took to the mattress, sitting cross-legged beside him. Your eyes immediately drifted to his fingers on the fretboard, which lead to the veins standing so prominent on the back of his hand, all the way up his arm, and to the flash of skin you could see on his chest. Once you’d studied every available part of him, your eyes landed on his face. He gave you a smile, not feeling a need to chastise you for the admiration. “You want to play?” He asked. You shook your head, almost immediately rejecting the idea.

“N-no, I don’t really play much. The guitars are mostly here for decoration.” You lied. Soon after, you realized you couldn’t pull a trick like that on a seasoned musician.

“Hmm,” he lifted the guitar so the top was facing him, eyes dancing over the strings on the fretboard. Then, he pulled it away from him, checking over the back of the body of the guitar. “These strings are awfully worn in. The back seems to have a couple nicks from,” he safely put the guitar back in his lap, reaching over and hooking his finger through the chain on your neck. “A necklace.” He gave you a small smirk. Once again, the feeling of his hand sent shocks of electricity through every nerve in your body, setting you on fire. “The pick-guard is scratched to shit, and it happened to be in perfect tune when I picked it up.” He listed, letting the chain drop back to your body. Instead, he gently ran his knuckle over your cheek. “You lying to me, Angel?”

By that point, you knew there was no escaping the truth. “Okay, maybe I play a little bit. Not the best, though. Mostly just campfire tunes.” You shrugged, internally cringing at your pathetic attempt at a lie.

“I don’t think the owner of the pub on Main Street would ask you to play there if you weren’t any good, sweetheart.” There it was again, sweetheart, angel. He was trying to kill you with the pet names, you were sure of it. Once you moved past the terms of endearment, you snapped back to reality with a flash of dread. He had a laugh at your bewildered expression.

“Stalking me, Jacob?”

“No, although tempting. Could watch you play all day. You’ve got quite the voice.” He complimented. “Just happened to be there one night, got bit of a shock when you jumped up on stage.”

“You never said anything,” you said, watching him carefully. “I didn’t even know you were there. You didn’t come and say hi.” He gave a little shrug.

“I figured if you wanted everyone to know, you would’ve said something by now.” He explained, letting his fingertips dance over the strings, picking out a tune with ease. “I would have said hello, but I was worried you’d be embarrassed.”

“Oh,” you whispered “thank you, Jake.”

“No big deal.” He assured you. “Your secrets are always safe with me.” He gave another smirk, the sight tugging at your heart. “Is that why you came looking for me? Finally willing to give a few away?” Not even God could save you from the sinful look he casted in your direction. The change in tone almost gave you whiplash. You were sure your heart stopped for a moment, realizing how the scene might have looked. You didn’t seek him with any intention of something more, but you couldn’t help but feel him pulling you in further with each second that passed.

“You’d like that too much.” You mirrored his expression, hoping to feign some look of fake confidence. It worked on the outside, but inside, you were crumbling at the sight of him. His dark eyes felt so wrong looking at you in such a way, but you liked it more than you cared to admit.

“Not into pleasing others?” He teased, gaze flickering down to your lips. “Never pegged you as a sadist.”

“Like I said, lots you don’t know.” You chided. He chuckled, standing for a moment.

“You’d love for me to find out, though, wouldn’t you?” He placed the guitar back on its stand, carefully clasping the plastic latch to ensure it didn’t topple over. His eyes glided across your walls, taking in the minuscule details he’d never noticed before. He’d been in the room plenty of times, but never in such an intimate manner. His eyes settled on the little framed picture above your bed. He read the words after soaking in the photo. “Gold Dust Woman?” He hummed, his stare finally landing back on you. He got a small thrill watching you look up at him, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Great song.” You offered, realizing he’d picked up on the Rumours cover print you’d hand drawn the lyrics on.

“Very fitting for you.”

“What does that mean?” You chuckled.

“Gold Dust Woman…” he said, more to himself. “Beautiful name, beautiful girl.”

“A beautiful song, yeah. Not a beautiful story, though.” He shook his head, letting out a small laugh at your unwillingness to accept the compliment. “In fact, it’s quite sad.” He didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed the melody of the song to himself, completely unaware of anything other than the sound. As he did so, you found yourself admiring the sight of him in front of you, the exposed skin of his torso still keeping your attention and nearly making your mouth water. You knew you should get up, just walk out and leave before anything regretful ensued, but you were captivated in him. The scent from earlier not only lingering on his skin, but entangled in your sheets, now. You realized you’d be quite content if it never went away.

“You’re looking at me like you’re trying to figure me out.” He noted. You shook yourself out of the devils hold, returning to the conversation. “Are you trying to figure me out, Gold Dust Woman?”

“Maybe,” you said. “More importantly, trying to figure out if this is a good idea.”

“What, exactly?” He didn’t move from his position, seeking an advance from you, first. You rolled your eyes, tired of whatever game he was playing.

“The flirting, the touching… the secrets?” You listed. He gave a smile.

“Nothing wrong with harmless flirting,” he explained. “Unless you’re thinking about doing something shameful.” You didn’t know how to answer, afraid of saying the wrong thing. The whole situation was so surreal that you were questioning your own sanity. Half of you believed he may get you to profess your fantasy, then leave you there to wallow in it. But, from all you knew about Jake, he didn’t seem like a deceitful person.

“You aren’t?”

“Depends on what you’re thinking about, angel.” He took a step towards the door, causing your stomach to plummet. You sprung to your feet, ready to stop him in his tracks without a second thought. The idea of him leaving was worse than any other consequence the night could bring. He turned his head towards you, a sly smile stuck on his lips. He knocked the door closed with one swift motion of his arm, turning back towards you. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling ridiculous at your own habit of jumping to conclusions. Of course he’d be making a move to close the door, rather than leave you by yourself. “Seems like you don’t want me to go.”

“Fuck, of course I don’t, Jake!” You sighed, frustrated with your own inability to make up your mind. He took a step towards you, brushing your hair from your face.

“What do you want?” His palm settled on your cheek, soaking up the warmth. “Hmm?” The little devil in your brain was screaming over every other rational thought. The memory of Sam was barely alive within you, your only focus being on the begging question of what he looked like out of his clothes. “You can say it, baby.” He was close enough that you could feel the vibration of his chest while he spoke.

“I…” you started, unable to properly formulate your words. He waited a moment, just to see if you’d say what he so badly wanted to hear. When you didn’t continue, he took it upon himself to guide you. His hand on your cheek drifted towards your neck, fingers barely touching the back of your neck while his palm grazed the side of it. His free hand found your hip, gently guiding your body into his. His head was downturned slightly to meet yours, his forehead just hovering over your own. The tip of his nose was brushing against the side of yours, the smell of whiskey on his breath was intoxicating all on its own. Every gravitational pull in the universe was pushing you closer to him, begging you to taste his lips, even just for a second. Your chest was burning, searching for oxygen as you continued to hold your breath. You were scared to move, still worried about advancing, but terrified he’d pull away.

“Is this better?” His words were barely above a whisper, but they hit you with force, soaking into your skin and settling in your bones. Your eyes were closed, revelling in the closeness, wanting to think of nothing other than the feeling of him. He lowered his mouth, just barely enough to brush his lips over yours. If the feeling wasn’t so electrifying, you thought you might miss it. With the newest invitation, every moral and ethical thought in your brain was silenced. The only one left was the same, little, red devil who’d been hoping for this the whole night. The only worry left in you was about him leaving without you getting the satisfaction of having him completely.

Without another thought, you pushed through the invisible barrier you’d drawn, finally pulling him into a kiss. His hold tightened, letting you know he was ecstatic about your decision. It was hungry, fuelled by all of tension you’d been feeling all night. You finally allowed yourself the pleasure of letting your hands explore him, something they’d been eager to do for hours. You fought with the two bottom buttons of his shirt, freeing him completely. You brushed in from his shoulders and he dropped his arms, letting it fall to the ground. Your fingers danced over the bare skin, wanting to know every intimate detail the fabric had been concealing. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand from your hip to your ass, pulling you further into him with a force that made your head spin.

When you finally parted, you were breathless and void of any rationality. When he snaked his hands under your shirt to pull it over your head, you were more than willing to comply. You lifted your arms, allowing him to slip it off with ease. You could tell just by his movements that he’d been waiting to get you out of yours, too. His hands went straight for the buttons on your jeans, something in which you greatly encouraged. Once you were left exposed, he guided you to the bed and laid you back on the mattress. You didn’t have time to get a word out, because his mouth was back on yours and he was pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. If you were in your right mind, you would have been more focused on the fact that you were naked and he was still partially clothed. Also, probably concerned with how quickly the situation evolved into what it was. But, the curiosity of his hands was too pleasurable to complain about anything, and the gentle exploration was highly appreciated.

His fingers found your nipple, brushing against it softly, allowing you to get a feel for his touch. When the breath caught in your throat, he rolled it between his fingers, giving a soft pinch. He smiled against your lips when you tensed in response to the action, his cockiness still taking up space in the room, even during sex. His lips trailed from your lips down your neck, silently searching for another spot that would give him a reaction. He settled below your ear, lingering there after you’d let a breathy moan slip past your lips, pleased with himself once again. He made quick work at sucking marks into the skin, easy enough to hide, but present enough to remind you of him. The last thing he wanted was for you to wake up in the morning and forget all about him.

He was settled between your legs, one hand still resting on your breast while the other held himself steady on the mattress. After he was satisfied with his work on your neck, he continued further, familiarizing yourself with every available part of you. He let his teeth graze over your collarbone, the unfamiliar sensation seeing you on fire. If his mission was to leave you desperate for him, he’d done well. You were a mess below him, unable to contain the whimpers and sighs falling from your lips. You wanted more; the teasing and the playfulness was fun, but you’d been craving him all night. The wait was unbearable, almost making it hard to enjoy the attention he was already giving you. When he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth, you realized you were completely willing to do whatever he asked of you, as long as there was a promise that he’d never stop.

In your desirous state, you realized that maybe that little devil you had in your brain was instilled in his, too.

No, you were certain the actual devil had buried himself in some part of Jake.

There was no rational explanation for the pleasure he was granting you just by his simple touches. It was sinful; every movement had to be laced with evil. Nothing pure could ever be so exhilarating. You were certain whatever power he had within his hands and his tongue had to be unholy, because in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn’t do to feel it again. The indisputable fact was hanging thick in the air: no matter how much guilt you felt about your entanglement with him, it was nothing in comparison to the inebriating feeling of him on your skin.

As his fingers sunk between your legs, dancing through the parts of you he’d been so desperate to know, you knew that you were fully tangled in his web. There was no way you could walk away from him, now. The act both of you were engaging in was blissful, that much was undeniable. But the lengths you would go to for the feeling of him between your legs was godless. You thought, if the decision of letting him bed you was a good one, there was no way it would have produced such an immoral desire within you. But, the mistake was already made, and you were dancing with the devil. Whether the devil being his hands or his tongue, or him as a whole, you weren’t sure. The relationship was solidified purely by lust, now, and no distance could drive away your need for him.

When his fingers slipped inside you and the pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, you were practically ready to come undone just by the first movement. Crying his name, biting your lips to silence yourself, but failing miserably. His unwavering silence was unnerving, but it was offset by the heaviness of his eyelids, pupils clouded with a longing for you that you’d never seen from another person. His lips were parted, gaze never moving from your face. He was completely enthralled in you, feral from the scene below him. The sight of him gave you some sort of comfort, knowing that the feeling between the two of you was mutual. He was willing to do the exact same things to have you underneath him forever.

“This is what you wanted, angel?” He asked, voice low and gravelly. “What you were too scared to ask for?”

“G-god, yes, Jake.” You breathed, wanting so badly to close your eyes and dissolve into pleasure, but finding yourself unable to look away from his face.

“Don’t ever be scared to ask again.” He said, looking down for a moment to let a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his hand. The act only tightened the knot in your belly even more. “I’d spend all day making you feel good, just to see those pretty faces you’re making,” he mumbled, eyes now focused on his fingers pumping into you. “Just to hear those gorgeous fucking noises.” His tone turned into a bit of a growl, as if he’d worked himself up even more just by talking about it.

“Fuck, Jake.” You let your head fall back to the pillow, finally breaking your stare from him. As you did so, he pulled his hand from you completely, causing a rise of panic in your chest. Before you had the chance to look up and see what was wrong, he’d sunk to his stomach on the mattress and hooked his arms underneath your thighs. In a single movement, he pulled you down towards him and onto his mouth.

The newly discovered form of pleasure was a million times more powerful than his hands. The talent he possessed in his fingers was minuscule compared to his tongue. He took his time, savouring every bit of you that he could, searing the memory into his brain forever. The taste of your arousal satisfied his need for you even further, making him wish he could live between your thighs for the rest of his life. When your hands snaked down and tangled themselves in his hair, he was certain he could’ve gotten off to that feeling alone. He worked at you, now only driven by his desire to bring you to an orgasm, needing to experience it as if it were necessary for his survival. He was practically begging you by the way he was using his tongue, as if he had to do beg to begin with. You were at the brink of an orgasm before he’d even started.

His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you on him like he was scared you’d disappear if he let go. You gripped at the roots of his hair, a plea for something, even if you weren’t sure what it was. Maybe for an orgasm, or for some compassion; you didn’t know if you wanted more or if you needed him to slow down. Everything about Jake was conflicting, but indescribably fantastic. You wished you hadn’t fallen into the trap, but there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

“M’gonna cum,” You warned, barely able to get the words out. In response, he did nothing other than focus on you even more, as if it were possible. With his unwavering determination, it didn’t take much longer for you to unravel, spiralling into an orgasm stronger than any you’d ever had. It was earth-shattering, all the muscles in your body tense and stars dancing in your eyes. Your lungs burned for a hint of oxygen, as even your breathing stopped momentarily. When you started to come down, you weren’t even sure if you were still in the same realm. He tapered his pace once he noticed you relax against him, the hold you had on his hair beginning to loosen. Once your body was lax against the mattress, he pulled back. As greedy as it sounded, you wished he didn’t.

“Fucking divine, baby.” He mumbled, peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. “Didn’t know someone could taste that good.” The words alone could have sent you into another orgasm. As much as you were enjoying the sentiment, the selfish part of you just wanted him to fuck you, now. Want wasn’t even a good enough word to describe it; you needed him. He wormed his way back up your body, wiping his face with his hand before pulling you into another kiss. This one was sweeter, less hungry than before.

When he pulled back and made a move to stand, a rush of excitement flooded through you. You watched him, anticipating the next move, hoping his hand would move to remove his belt. Instead, he bent down and picked up his shirt from the ground. The feeling of excitement was quickly replaced with dread. “Jake?” You asked, quickly rushing to sit up. He stood straight, pulling his shirt back on. He gave you a sly smile, one that made your blood run cold. He stepped towards you, lifting your chin with his finger and placing another kiss to your lips. You reached out for him, hoping your hold would change his course of action.

He parted from you, buttoning the same dreaded bottom two buttons. “Gotta leave something to the imagination.” He smirked, unwilling to change his mind. “If I fuck you now, you won’t invite me back.” If he only knew how wrong he was, he’d be laughing.

“Please, don’t go.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded; him walking out the door was the most heinous act he could commit.

“As pretty as you sound begging for me, you’ll have to wait, angel.” He adjusted himself in his jeans, concealing any evidence of the acts you’d engaged in. “If you can’t sleep, you know my number. I’d be happy to help you out at least a little bit.” He sent a wink in your direction. The devil inside him was showing again, but in a much more malicious manner. He was being diabolical.

“Jake,” you warned, watching him with caution.

“I’ll strike you a deal, sweetheart. Just cause you’re so pretty.” He took one, single step towards you, just close enough so he could tuck your hair behind your ear. As much as he was set in his way, he still seemed to have a soft spot for you. “I was a bit greedy. I just couldn’t leave you here without a taste.” He crouched down, eye level with you, now. As mad as you were, the desire to kiss him was still very much present. “Needed something to think about when I’m alone, tonight.” He admitted. The thought of him getting himself off to you was driving you crazy; he had no idea the things you would do just to keep him in the room with you. Little to your knowledge, he was struggling to walk away, too. “Since you were so good for me, if you still want me to fuck you when you wake up in the morning, I’ll stay here all day. Any way you want it, however long you want it for. I’m all yours.”

“You can fuck me now, all night, if you want.” You professed, reaching out for his face. Your palm cupped his cheek, begging him to see reason.

“Ah,” he shook his head. “That wasn’t part of the deal.” He hummed, leaning in just a bit closer. “Like I said, baby. In the morning.” He said, lips dangerously close to yours, again. “If I fuck you now, you won’t need me to come back, and I really want you to want me to come back.” He gave you one last kiss, just enough to ensure you of his dedication.

“Okay,” you forced out, unhappy to be complying with such an unreasonable request. You were certain that if he fucked you now, you wouldn’t even be done with him by the morning. Even with the promise of his tongue alone, you’d be begging for his company. You didn’t need to wait for the sunrise to be sure of that.

He stood, brushing his thumb over your cheek and taking one last look over you, admiring the sight. With that, he turned towards the door. Before he stepped out, he looked back again with a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Thanks for sharing your secrets, Gold Dust Woman.” Before another word was spoken, he had slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Now, in his absence, you were mortified at what you’d done, and felt even more shameful knowing how badly you wanted to do it again. You stared at the door where he’d been standing just seconds before, the same turmoil from earlier in the evening making a reappearance. You swallowed hard, well aware of the fact that you’d never be able to rid yourself of Jake, now. Never rid yourself of the desire for him, either. You had no idea what his intentions were, and it wasn’t like he’d been very clear about them, either. But, neither had you. You’d both fallen into the struggle of following your heart instead of your head, and it was sure to leave a path of destruction in its wake.

So you sat, stomach turning and head spinning, realizing what type of predicament you’d caught yourself in. You were undoubtedly in love with Sam, and now, completely in lust with his brother. Or, Satan himself. You still weren’t sure which title fit him better. He looked like Jake, spoke like him, but his ability to make you into such a fool for his sin came completely natural; almost as if it wasn’t even a struggle for him to make you fall to his feet with a single snap of his fingers. One feeling so innocent and pure, and the other absolutely concupiscent and filthy.

No matter which way you looked at it, you found no logical way around either emotion. No solace existing in your brain, either. You couldn’t help but feel ridiculous for being upset over your own stupidity, knowing the only one to blame was yourself. You curled up in your blankets, desperately searching for sleep, seeking a moment of peace. The only thing you could hope for was that maybe the morning could bring some form of clarity. But, hope was a fabled idea, and you’d already dug your grave too deep to climb out of it. No sunrise could rid you from the looming regret hanging over your shoulders.

Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave

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coffeeandbatboys · 1 month

Note

Congrats on the follower milestone! And Thanks for the tag! 🥰

Can we do something like-

Character: Fives

Number: 7

Emoji: 😜

(This is such a cool idea!)

Thank you! No pressure, and no rush!

Oh. My. God. When I was making the prompt list I saw this one and immediately thought Fives. And then I got the damn ask 😂

Prompt: *tipsy* “Have you ever thought about porgs? I think we should think more about porgs.”

Warnings: Fives had a good time at 79s, Kix and Jesse make a cameo. Fives is a clingy lil shit. Reader is implied to be female.

270 follower celebration

About Porgs (Fives x Reader)

Your comm beeped on the vanity. Curiosity getting the better of you, you paused brushing your teeth to see who it was.

“Hey Vod’ika it’s Kix. Fives had a few too many at 79s so he’s your problem tonight. Jess and I will bring him over there soon.”

You shook your head with a smile, remembering the Medic’s rants about the last time Fives was drunk and staying in the barracks. Apparently he had kept everyone awake by singing a badly written love song about you.

You grabbed a glass and filled it with water, before pouring out a couple of painkillers to go with it.

“Force knows he’ll need it in the morning,” you muttered to yourself.

Not too long after the comm your doorbell rang. You opened the door to find Fives, partially supported by Kix and Jesse. He had a lopsided grin on his face and his eyelids were drooping just a little. He did light up when he saw you.

“Mesh’laaa!” He cheered.

You sighed, stepping out of the way so your ARC trooper could stumble inside.

“Thanks, boys. I got him all set up for tomorrow morning. He’s not catching a break.”

Jesse and Kix said goodnight and returned to the barracks, leaving you to deal with Fives.

“Alright let’s take care of your armor.” You ordered, pushing him into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed as you began to pull each piece of his kit off. Once you got down to the belt, something akin to the transition between confusion and realization flashed across his face and he gasped.

“Ohhh it’s like thattt.” He slurred,

You knit your brows together and feigned innocence, just so you didn’t have to give him the satisfaction.

You frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon Mesh’la.”

You stacked the rest of his kit at the foot of the bed. “You’re going to go right to sleep buddy. After you drink some water. ”

He pouted, but took a couple of sips anyway, then layed down. You returned the cup to the nightstand and turned the light off. For a second, you wondered if Fives was asleep because everything was quiet. But then-

“Have you ever thought about porgs? I think we should think more about porgs.”

That one threw you for a loop. You started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement.

“What?” You wheezed.

“I mean why d’they scream so much? Poor things must be tr…tram…trama…scared or something.”

You flopped down on the bed and groaned. “Go to sleep Fives.”

“Jus sayin’”

“Fives–“

“Fineee.”

You felt him wrap his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, where he placed a lazy kiss.

“G’night Mesh’la.”

“Goodnight Fives.”

“Love you.”

You kissed his temple. “I love you too. Now sleep.”

He let out a deep chuckle. “Yess’m”

#star wars #clone trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #fives x fem!reader #fives x you #arc trooper fives x fem! reader #arc trooper fives #coffee’s 270 follower celebration #clone trooper x reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 3 months

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.1

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which you pack your bags for paris, still unsure of whether or not you’ll return to london for anything other than the rest of your belongings, and anakin is forced to reach out to liz after she crosses another line.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Guilt had followed Anakin all week.

He talked to you for a good hour over the phone on Wednesday, and not once did he mention the fact that Liz had kissed him. He knew the longer he kept it from you, the worse it’ll be for him, but he was terrified of your reaction.

Anakin had been faithful for nearly five years straight, and the one time he’s away from you for more than a few days he lets another girl get close to him. Close enough for him to break that streak in a single night.

He knew that as soon as he told you, it could very well be over, and he never wanted to lose you, let alone because of something so out of character for him.

Still, it wasn’t fair for you to be kept out of the loop, and though he hated to do it, he’d rather tell you in person. He could only hope that you saw it from his perspective, and how hard he’s been trying to get rid of her.

Anakin was sitting on the couch, the passing scenery doing wonders at keeping his mind busy. He wanted to call you, but you told him that you needed to sort some things out today, and he’d just have to wait until you were able to talk.

He had headphones on with the track Vinny and Theo had recorded during all the time Anakin spent with Liz, and he felt like the worst excuse of a friend and band member ever.

They were actually trying to get music out while he just went out and partied. But he wouldn’t be doing that anymore.

If one good thing came out of that whole club situation and the wake up call, it was that Anakin was finally inspired to write. Theo had come up with the idea to create a slower song rather than the loud and intense songs they’ve been playing for the last year and a half. He was sure it was because the bass player was feeling down a lot lately and needed a way to vent, and Anakin and Vinny were more than willing to agree to it.

He listened to the track on repeat as he thought about possible lyrics, and Anakin was happy that Vinny had decided to try his luck with a piano. He played it for about four years before he switched to drums, but he clearly still knew how to play the string instrument as it sounded amazing through his headphones.

Before long, he had a whole page done and was starting his second when Vinny emerged from the back of the bus. His hair was a mess, signaling to Anakin that he had just woken up from a nap.

Anakin could probably use a few more hours of sleep, too, but he knew it would never come. He’d just end up tossing and turning and wasting time, so he didn’t even bother.

Vinny sat down next to him with a huff, taking the notebook out of Anakin’s hands as he did so. Anakin scoffed at him, taking off his headphones and setting them aside as he turned to face his friend. “Is this for a new song?” Vinny asked with a yawn as he read over the page.

“Yeah,” Anakin answered, grabbing his phone and sending you a quick text.

Vinny set the notebook aside after reading it over. “Sounds good,” he mumbled. “Glad to see you got your inspiration back.”

“Yeah, but at what cost,” Anakin muttered.

“Anakin, Y/n will understand,” he tried to reassure him, but probably knew that it was pointless as Anakin would continue to feel like shit until he knew for sure that he wouldn’t lose you because of the mistake he made with Liz.

So when he didn’t respond, Vinny just shook his head and stood back up. He rummaged around in the mini fridge before grabbing two water bottles and heading back to Clara, leaving Anakin to finish up the song he had titled ‘Falling’.

“I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time,” you confessed as you sat on the grass in the Quad. “I completely messed up that last assignment. I didn’t even try.”

Evan gave you a pointed look as he sipped from the straw of his smoothie. “You’re not wasting everyone’s time, Y/n,” he stated, making you roll your eyes. “I’m serious. Kenneth would’ve sent you running on the first day if he thought you were wasting his time.”

You shrug and look at different flights on your phone. “Maybe, but I still accused him of favoring me when he was literally just trying to be nice,”

“Y/n,” Evan called out to you, making you look up. “You’re a good writer. You’re one of the best in the class, don’t think that you’re not. One bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, you know that.”

You shrug again, sipping on your own smoothie. “Yeah, I guess,”

Evan set down his drink and moved closer to you. “I mean it. You’re going places…if you decide to stay, that is. While it’ll certainly give me a better chance at getting published, it’ll still suck to lose you. But if you’re no longer happy here, then you deserve to do something that does make you happy.”

You give him a smile and lean over to hug him quickly. “Thanks, Ev,”

He returned the hug before standing up. “Are you coming to class today?”

You think about it for a few seconds then shake your head. “No, I have some thinking to do,”

He nods and gives you a reassuring smile. “Okay, I’ll just see you later then,”

You nod back and watch as he makes his way to the building the class is in before pulling out your phone.

Ani: I hope you’re having a better day today, baby. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I love you.

The text brings a smile to your lips as you stand up and throw away your garbage as you reply to him.

So far so good. I can’t wait to see you, too, Ani. I love YOU.

You head in the opposite direction of your class, planning on going back to your room and packing your bag for Paris. Maybe you’d even start packing up to go back home. While Evan’s attempts at reassuring you were nice, you still didn’t feel confident in yourself anymore.

Anakin had even tried to reassure you, but he also said that you didn’t have to force yourself to stay if it wasn’t what you wanted anymore, and to have that support from him had your head feeling clearer than it had in weeks.

If all else failed, you still always had him, and that was enough for you to know that you’d be okay.

You pack the essentials and set your bag down next to your desk before sitting down on your bed. Grabbing your phone, you begin to look through more flight options. There was one for three in the afternoon, meaning you’d be able to be in Paris by five thirty at the latest. You’d have to swing by class tomorrow to talk to Kenneth, and to possibly say goodbye to him.

You really weren’t sure if you were going to come back for anything other than the rest of your belongings once Anakin and the guys leave France and you’d have to say goodbye again. Maybe you could just pack the rest of your things and meet him at the next location. You wouldn’t mind sharing that small bunk with him for the next two months, and you knew he wouldn’t mind either.

Without another thought, you buy the ticket and set your phone down, pulling out your laptop and continuing to write the rough draft of your short story, despite your plans potentially dropping the class.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and before you knew it, it was the next morning and you were packing last minute things and making sure you had your ticket ready. You set everything on your bed, excitement pulsing through you at the fact that you’d be seeing Anakin in less than nine hours.

His text had you feeling the happiest you’ve been all week, and you had shamelessly read it more than once.

Ani: I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve missed you so much, princess.

He was the sweetest, and you were shaking with nerves at the thought of feeling his arms around you again after four weeks of zero physical contact.

You leave your dorm and make your way to class, well aware that it had ended at nine and it was now nearing ten. With a quick inhale, you enter the classroom and meet Kenneth’s eyes from across the room. He was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed as he looked back down at the papers he was reading. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Glad to see you could make it to class today, though you are an hour late and the class is already over.”

Giving him a forced and embarrassed smile, you step into the room. “Yeah,” you trail off, playing with your fingers as you stand by the door. “I’m sorry I missed the last two classes, it’s just….I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

Kenneth didn’t look up from the papers as he said, “Well, you’ve certainly done a great job at trying to prove that,”

Your face heats up and you look at the floor. “Yeah…I’m really sorry, Kenneth,” you murmur, glancing down at the A on your wrist. You feel the smallest bit of comfort from just looking at it, and you lift your head with a newfound confidence. “I didn’t mean to waste your time. That was the last thing I wanted to do.”

That had your instructor looking up at you. He studied your face for a few seconds before sitting up in his chair. “You didn’t waste my time, Miss Y/l/n,” he stated. “In fact, I quite enjoyed reading your previous pieces, so I don’t know why you think you wasted anyone’s time.”

You shrug at him and avoid eye contact. You just needed to get through this, then you could go to the airport and be with Anakin again after a month of not seeing him.

“I assume you came here to tell me that you’re dropping out?” Kenneth asks and you look over at him.

“Do you think I should?” You ask.

“That’s not up to me,” he says. “It’s your choice.”

You huff, “Do you think I’m…..good enough?”

Kenneth raises his brows. “Do I think you’re good enough?” He repeated your question and leaned back. “I think you’re a great writer, Miss Y/l/n, and it would be unfortunate to lose you before I got to really see what you can do. But, it’s your decision, and I can’t make it for you.”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Right. I guess that’s a good answer,”

He returns the smile before asking, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m….my boyfriend is performing at a few venues in Paris, so I’m going to meet him there,” you tell him. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be missing a few classes next week.”

Kenneth nods. “It might be best for you to take some time to figure out what you want to do,” he says. “If you decide to stay, there’s always a spot for you in my class, but if you want to go then I can’t stop you. But just know that one bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, and you shouldn’t let it have that much control over you.”

Your smile fades a bit at how similar his and Evan’s words are. Maybe they were right. “I’m trying,”

He shrugged, “That’s all you can do,”

A few seconds pass before you nod. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to be rushing to the airport,”

“Before you go,” he called out to you just as you began to turn around. “I want you to know that, whatever you decide to do, I support you.”

That had a genuine smile forming on your lips. “Thank you, Kenneth, and I’m sorry for…everything,”

Then you were off. You headed back to your room to grab your bag, finding Evan leaning against the wall next to your door. Your look of surprise had him raising his brows, “What, you thought I was gonna let you leave without saying goodbye to me first? Especially since I might never see you again after this?”

You laugh and walk into his open arms. “I haven’t decided if I’m dropping the class or not, Ev,” you say and rest your head against his chest. “And I’d say goodbye to you before I left, anyway.”

“How generous,” he teased and pulled away. His eyes flickered all over your face before he met your gaze. “Have fun, okay? Go spend time with your famous boyfriend, and don’t worry about anything else, alright? You deserve it.”

You smile and nod, “Okay,” you agree. “I’ll see you next week, Evan. Promise.”

He squinted his eyes at you. “You better,” he said back, giving you another smile before leaving. You grab your bag and look around your room one last time before setting down the note you had written to Bailey. She was still at her parents house since there was some family emergency, and you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to her.

You leave it on her bed before locking the door and ordering a ride to the airport, the stress of everything finally beginning to lift once you’re seated on the plane.

Anakin could not stop pacing the length of the small hallway on the bus.

He was shaking, he was so excited to see you.

He couldn’t think about much else other than your sweet scent, your kind smile, your achingly pretty face, and the way your body fit perfectly against his own. He was craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe he had gone a month without you.

Vinny was watching him with a tired expression, his arm draped over Clara’s shoulders as she slept next to him on the couch. “Dude,” he grunted after watching him pace a few more times. “What are you doing? Why are you pacing?”

Anakin flexed his fingers as he shrugged, passing by the brunet once again. “I can’t help it,” he answered. “I have to leave in less than half an hour to pick her up and bring her back here. Half an hour, Vin, then she’s here.”

Vinny let out a laugh of disbelief, glancing down at his sleeping girlfriend. “I hope she’s this excited to see me at some point in the future,” he muttered to himself as Anakin tried to calm himself down.

“I missed her so much, Vin,”

“I know,”

“I can’t wait to see her,”

“I know, Anakin,”

“Please tell me that you and Clara are doing something tonight,” Anakin was powerless to stop the desperation from coming through in his voice.

Vinny smirked up at him, “Is that your way of asking if the bus will be empty tonight?”

“I need to be alone with her,” Anakin groaned. “I need it to be just the two of us, so we can talk. I need to clear a few things up with her.”

Vinny laughed. “I understand, man,” he said. “I’ll take Clara out for dinner or something and we’ll tour the Paris nightlife.”

Anakin gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” then he checked his phone and nearly dropped it when he saw Liz’s newest Instagram post. “Fuck.”

It was a close up picture of Anakin on stage a couple nights ago, his hair damp and his skin sweaty as he finished the last song of the set. He remembered feeling the high of that night, and he would’ve been happy to see that Liz had captured a photo of it, but right now all he felt was rage as he read the caption.

elizaphotography: Thought you’d all enjoy a hot, up close and personal shot of the sexy lead singer of Screaming Whispers ;)

She added a bunch of stupid hashtags and even tagged him, and Anakin wanted to throw his phone at the nearest wall. Vinny must’ve sensed the sudden change as he sat up a bit and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“She- I can’t fucking believe her,”

Vinny reached forward and grabbed his phone, his gaze hardening once he saw the post. “Wow, this bitch won’t quit,” he muttered, reading the caption over and over again. “She must think she’s invincible or some shit, because- what are you doing?”

Anakin had swiped his phone out of Vinny’s hand and clicked on Liz’s contact as he left the bus, hoping that the air would cool him off at least a little. It rang for a few seconds before the call connected, “Ah, I knew that would get your attention,”

“Back off, Liz,” Anakin rasped, leaning against the side of the bus as he felt his heartbeat quicken. “I mean it.”

“You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, Anakin,” she stated. “You’re acting like a prick. I thought we were friends.”

“You thought wrong,” he said and tried to take back control of his breathing. “Change that caption, or better yet, delete the entire fucking post.”

Liz hummed, “Thought I was allowed to post you? In fact, it’s on the contract that I get your image out there for the world to see,” she laughed. “Well, it says something like that, anyway.”

“I’m not joking, Liz,” he muttered under his breath, and her annoying voice had his body heating up in rage.

“I’m not joking either, Anakin,” she said back. “You led me on. I can claim that. Don’t piss me off, Anakin, or I’ll tell Y/n myself that you cheated on her.”

“I didn’t-”

“But you did,” she cut him off. “I’m living proof.”

“What do you want, Liz? Huh?” Anakin asked in frustration as he tugged on his hair. “Why do you insist on being such a-”

“A what, Anakin? What?” She pressed. “Call me anything other than my name, and I’ll message her right now.”

Anakin bit his tongue, holding back on calling her every bad name he could think of, because it really wouldn’t help much at all. “Keep her out of this,” he said as calmly as he could. He didn’t like her holding you over him like this when she had no fucking clue about anything involving yours and his relationship. She was just the fucking tour photographer, why did she think she had such an important role in his life?

“Yeah,” she hummed. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

Then she hung up and Anakin cursed under his breath as he opened the Instagram app. He deleted all the photos she took of him from his account, wanting nothing to do with her at all anymore. Sure, the photos were great and he actually liked them quite a lot, but he refused to be associated with her in any way.

Before he got off the app, he clicked on Liz’s account and saw that she did actually change the caption, but it still didn’t settle the anger brewing within him. Without a second thought, he blocked her and pocketed his phone after calling a ride that would take him to the airport and to you.

They reunite soon :') (but is that a good thing?)

143 notes · View notes

writinginthetwilight · 3 months

Text

You Look Good in Green.

Eddie Munson x Bartender!Fem!Reader.

>>Summery: Between a deli and a laundromat in down town Indianapolis, a bar sits unassuming. Almost derelict looking from the outside, to the untrained eye. But by night shes a different beast

>>Author note: A day early because I have no self control. Thank you for to anyone who read, commented or reblogged the last chapter your all beautiful humans. This chapter has in it one of the first scenes I imagined when this story first invaded my every thought, I'll let you guess which one. Enjoy 💚.

>> Chapter warnings: 18+ only, eventual smut, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, excessive alcohol consumption, mention of vomit, smoking, strong language, broken glass wear.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 3 - Recovery Position.

MARCH 1988

Desolate is the word that springs to mind as he slams the van door closed. The sound echoes around him before it's swallowed into the shadows where the street lights can't reach, their orange light hanging listly over parked cars and reflecting back at him in the dark windows of closed stores.

This was a stupid idea.

A mantra that's been on a loop in his head since he took the exit for the city, only becoming louder the longer he drove, trapped within the confines of his own head no matter how loud he blared the stereo.

Bitter cold air bites and nips at any exposed skin forcing him to move, fingers already numbing around the handle of the guitar case. He makes short work of the small journey down the sidewalk, but by the time he reaches the familiar soft yellow light spilling from the 24-hour laundromat, he slows to a halt despite how his lungs ache from the cold.

The familiarity of the street dies beyond the threshold of that soft light. No people are lingering in a haze of smoke, no laughter or boisterous voices, mingling along with the low hum of the base that blares intermittently as people ferry in and out the door.

He stands surrounded by his own hot breath that lingers in the air, maybe Angie had gotten the days mixed up in her over-eager conviction to get him to play.

‘I know that guitar I sold Wayne ain't just sat for decoration’, he mouths in a taunting mimic to himself as he finally makes his way up to the door.

The lights are on, he can see that much through the small steamed up window in the door, crooked open sign burning a luminous cherry red to his right.

If he was honest with himself, he knows it's the right night, the damn date stuck to his refrigerator in Angie's looped cursive had all but destroyed his appetite for the past week.

But the idea that she's wrong is an easy distraction from where the doubts really lie.

Gigs had been sparse the past few years, with Jeff away at college, Grant’s dad working him to exhaustion at the shop and Gareth not even old enough to get into half the places they wanted to play. The idea of playing live again started to sound like a good idea, no matter the capacity.

That's how she got him.

The acoustic had seen more action in the past three years than it had since he was in middle school and between the pages of the notebook, which currently sits like a dead weight in his back pocket, are songs never played to anyone but the thin walls of the trailer.

The dawning reality of it being just him, dampening any enthusiasm before it could start.

He was good at leading, building people up; the band, his sheep. Once upon a time himself, not so much lately.

The door swings open making him stumble back as the bouncer almost steps on him. Staring at Eddie, face void of all emotion for a moment his eyes flick down to the guitar then back up.

“Card”

His voice is monotone and the momentary wide eyed hesitation on Eddie's part seems to irritate him as his brows pull in, a grunt leaving him as he shoves an open hand out, that Eddie’s sure could crush his skull.

Not wanting a witness to him hightailing it away from an open mic night of all things, he drops his guitar and scrambles for his wallet, watching as the angry giant stares at it for a little too long before abruptly opening the door and ushering him in. Left cradling his guitar to his chest he winces at the sudden change in light.

This wasn’t just a stupid idea, this was a fucking mistake.

It's like he’s back in high school, stood at the edge of a sea of pastel colour and quaffed hair, quick looks drag up and down as he enters, snap judgements made at a glance.

There's none of the usual reprieve here that he's gotten in the past, the weight that usually lifts as he walks in for a weekend gig now threatening to suffocate him.

Amour built over a lifetime rises, only to be knocked from his shoulders as cold air rushes in from behind him, a grunt and the presence of a large frame forcing him further into the building.

I don't need to play, he reasons laying his guitar across the stools beside him, I can just grab a drink, settle in, and watch. His fingers ache from the lingering cold as he anxiously drums a beat out against the wood.

“Hey, can I help? ”

Your voice startles him a little and the sight of your eager smile makes his throat dry up.

You're Jazz. When Angie mentioned it was your night he assumed it was someone older, he's not entirely sure why, your name only ever mentioned in passing when he hung out at the record store.

But he’s seen you before, hell he's been served by you before.

Always a quick exchange, between a crush of bodies on blurry nights, where he's woken up in an unfamiliar bed or the back of his van. Unsure of how he got there and with an ache in his neck that makes him question if, one of these days, he was going to give himself whiplash.

But you were just the cute bartender; he never got your name.

He hasn’t spoken in a good 10 seconds and your eyes move to the guitar case lay over the stools next to him, eyes lighting up “You here for the open mic night.”

Shit.

He couldn’t say no now, not when you were looking at him like that, all excited and eager, so with resignation he nods, flashing you a tight smile.

“Awsome, okay, just a minute” You scamper away and his face falls as soon as you're gone. Eyes scanning the room he searches faces to see if anyone stands out as familiar, shrugging off his leather and pulling at the neck of his shirt. Desperately trying to bring up the bravado that carries him through most days.

You arrive back, red notebook in hand and flicker forward a couple of pages.

“Name?”

“Eddie. Munson.” The question makes his hackles immediately go up, subconsciously waiting for a snide remark, but you only give him that bright smile again.

“Okay Eddie you're on third, a few people don't look like they're showing up” a humourless laugh passed your lips “I just need you to sign this.”

He eyes the form wearily for a second, “What is it?”

“It’s like a liability form, basically just agreeing you're responsible for your instruments” You let out an exasperated sigh eyes rolling “The owner's kind of a control freak, he’s not here, so we have this.” You confess holding a pen out to him.

“Sure. Okay.” The tremor in his hand makes him clench his teeth as he signs, willing himself to get it the fuck together and he tries to casually flip the pen for you to take but his clammy hand slip against the smooth case sending it clattering to the floor beneath him.

“Shit” he mumbles, quickly bending awkwardly between stool legs to retrieve it. You're making a poor attempt at hiding your amusement as he comes back up and he can't help but feel like he just signed away the last of his dignity as you store away the complete form into a binder.

“Nice shirt” you say without looking up and his eyes flicker down to his Megadeath tee and then back to you, “be nice to have somebody here that plans on singing something other than Madonna. Unless?” you look up at him eyebrows raised and he lets out a huff of a laugh.

“More of a Duran Duran man myself.” Looking out across the room he spins a ring on his finger. “Wasn’t exactly the crowd I was expecting.”

“It's taken almost two months for people to realise it isn't Karaoke. Anyone says shit to you, they're out.”

When he looks at you your face is dead serious.

“You want a drink?”

His full body sags into the bar, hands pressed flat against the wood.

“Please.”

*****

Gus calls it the void.

A space that exists between the sleepy dark building which greets you in the day, with low murmurs of the jukebox and quiet conversation, and the static chaos which she turns into at night, senses soaked in hazes of beer and speakers that vibrate your chest on an inhale.

The void comes when the bodies clear, main lights illuminating the corners once filled by bodies and a cacophony of nameless voices.

It's surreal, usually only seen through a fog of fatigue, as aching footsteps spot mop and clean broken glass, the walls seeming to stretch out and close in at the same time.

Tonight though the void crowds one remaining table, one too small for the number of bodies surrounding it.

You smile fondly from your place behind the bar as the newest members of the family laugh loudly with the oldest. The guys had killed it, the crowd loved it and the buzz of the room carried you through the night.

But the numbers on the calculator are starting to blur as you desperately try to finish cashing up. Eyes warm with an exhaustion that can only come with a day spent staving off panic, and a night caught in the adrenaline of that panic being completely unfounded.

You scrub your hands over your face, cursing yourself as soon as you do knowing the makeup that was once neatly placed there was likely smudged around your eyes now.

A soft clink of bottles and glasses being placed on the bar draws your attention and you look up expecting to see Jay or Charlie there but instead, big brown eyes look sympathetically down at you. You straighten slowly from where you were hunched over, tired bones and gravity having drawn you down.

“Same again?” you glance over at where Gus is loudly telling a story you can't quite distinguish over the cackle of Angie's laugh. Drunker than you'd seen them between these walls in a long time, and in good company if the way Gareth is swaying on his chair as he drunkenly flirts with a very pink Charlie is anything to go by.

“A couple of glasses of water too,” he says as Gareth tries to lean on the edge of the table, almost head butting the subject of his drunken affection when he misses by a mile.

You grimace with wide eyes and he grins back at you “coming up”

You can hear his rings tap against the wood of the bar behind you as he drums an uneven beat.

“I'll fetch them over.” he scoffs from behind and you send him an acusationary look over your shoulder.

“You've been running ‘round all night.” a small frown sits on his face as he tips his head towards you. You arrange the drinks on the small circular tray in front of him silently, the glasses and bottles clinking gently against each other as you softly nudge it towards him.

He looks smug for a moment and you can't help the laugh that comes out when it shifts to panic as he picks up the tray too harshly and the whole tray rattles aggressively.

He gives you an angry glance with no malice behind it and you watch his tongue peek out in concentration as he lifts it. Carefully, he makes his way over to the table, leaning your head on your fist you watch as he walks with slow strides, gangly and unsure looking like a baby deer, stopping every few steps.

The whole table stopped to watch, jibes and laughter turning to a cheer as he finally places the tray down, with a quick turn he bows at you as you give him him a slow clap.

“Come sit down Jazz, grab a drink” Gus yells across at you words running together a little, southern accent more prominent as he roughly pulls a chair over.

You cringe at the screech and look around at the unfinished tasks, but the promise of relief from the ache in your legs is too good to pass up, so you pour a generous glug of Jamesons into a steaming cup of coffee with too many sugars and join them.

You lean your head heavily on Angie's shoulder and she rests hers a top of yours, the smell of musky perfume and the red wine she's been drinking all night surrounding you.

“You did good darlin’” she says as they all chatter around you and you smile to yourself looking over at the band. “Yeah.”

Charlie makes herself scarce soon after when her dime store Matt Dillon boyfriend comes to collect her, much to Gareth's disdain. He asks every few minutes where she's gone and you have to gently remind him she's gone, his shoulders slumping every time.

You finally drag yourself from Angie humming to yourself as the coffee and whisky warm you, curling your knee up to your chest you tune in halfway through an argument Jeff and Eddie are having.

You've missed the start but as Eddie gets louder and Jeff snickers you realise Eddie has fallen for some kind of bate as he passionately rants and gesticulates wildly.

Jay laughs loudly from beside you catching everyone's attention, as Gareth becomes increasingly defensive at the story of George carding him when he came back in from packing up the van.

Grant quickly swipes his wallet and passes his licence over, Jay cooes instantly and you sneak a look at the picture. The frown on his face is like for like with the one he's wearing as he angrily grabs the card back.

Grant throws his arm around the younger guy's shoulders, and they all fall back into laughter and animated conversations in a way that only people who've known each other for half their lives can. A pang of jealousy runs through you that you push down quickly.

“You ready to admit you were wrong?” you say taking a sip from the hot sweet drink, head falling heavily to the side to look at Gus’s flushed face.

“Cold day in hell,” Angie murmurs to her glass, red wine clinging to the creases on her lips, lipstick long gone and spread down Gus’s neck.

“We’ll see,” he says eyeing the guys and throwing an arm around Angie's shoulders, you don't miss the small smile that twitches the corner of his mouth as he watches them.

“Okay house rules” he says loudly hand slamming on the table making you grimace.

The boys all fall silent, the timbre of his voice still commanding a presence with them that you remember from the early days of knowing him.

“Rule 1. No fighting, I see you throwing punches, you're out. Anybody tries anything you let George deal with it.” They all glance at the silent man who sits sipping a gin and tonic as he simply nods.

“Rule 2. Nobody goes behind the bar, you want a drink, you ask. If it's busy you wait your damn turn got it? They all nod turning to each other with murmurs of agreement.

“Rule 3. 10 dollars between you for playing, we’ll set up a tip jar and you can sell any other stuff you want tapes shirts whatever. And Rule 4."

he leans forward giving you a pointed look and you feel your gut drop as everyone looks at you.

He wouldn't.

"No fucking on the premises.”

Jay snickers and you smack him hard in the arm. “I didn't fuck him" you hiss rising quickly to your feet.

“Found them in the back. Trousers around his ankles,” he says leaning towards the boys who all grin at you.

“They were not around his ankles, he got to second base tops!” Jay cackles from beside you and you spin to face him “You can stop laughing, the bathroom's the premises and we all know what you and Paul do in there when they play.”

“Excuse me?” Gus says leaning forward heavily towards Jay as he splutters, the band all stare at you with various looks of glee.

You grab your jacket “As lovely as this has been, if we're finished reminiscing about my failed sexual encounters, my bus is leaving soon so if we can all finish up.”

“You're getting the bus?” Jeff says face dropping as he looks at you.

“Is that an issue?” exhaustion making you bite out the words as you collect the few remaining glasses on the table and walk them back to the bar.

“It's late,” Grant yells over the room as you dip inside the office to collect the rest of your things.

“I'm a big girl” you sing song “ and I have mace, I think I'll be fine.” you check your bag, and hang it heavily over your shoulder, locking up the cash and turning of the lights.

"I'll drive you,” Eddie says as you reappear arms crossed over his chest, all members leaning back into their seats, obviously having had a conversation you weren't privy to

“I told you he was a good boy,” Angie whispers loudly into Gus's ear and Eddie gives her a wink.

Your surprised your eyes don't roll out your head.

“You've all been drinking.” you gesture to Gareth to illustrate your point as he's about to fall asleep at any second, head leaning heavily against a less than impressed looking Grant.

“I've had two beers all night.”

You blink, looking down to the tap water in front of him and sigh, nerves starting to fray as the ache in your feet pulse and shoulders protest the extra weight of your belongings.

“ I just want to get home.” it comes out in a whine, but you're too tired to care.

“We'll close up.” Angie’s voice is slurred and a little muffled from the way she's pressed up against Gus's side, and you glance down to see her long nails raking down his leg under the table.

You look at them suspiciously “Yeah?”

“Done most of it for us, get away darlin’” he says never looking away from Angie.

Christ.

You look back over and Eddie raises his brows at you expectantly.

“Okay. But can we leave now?”

*****

March 1988

You fumble over your words, heart hammering and instantly regret asking Gus to fix the lights so you can see the audience better.

The idea that somebody might be smiling beyond the glare to make this less painful is quashed by a mixture of confused and vaguely interested faces. At least when half the crowd thought it was karaoke there was a pack of drunken friends cheering.

You welcome Eddie on stage, hoping to God that the crowd at least cracks a smile.

A couple of beers had brought him around a little, the deer in headlights look fading as you watched the first two acts and made small talk, but as you turn to wave him on and he appears into the light he looks like you're leading him to the slaughter.

You hope you're not, but the urge to get off stage and away from vacant stares has you scrambling back behind the bar.

“Hey”

His voice sounds small even amplified by the mic and you grin widely at him when he catches your eye.

“ I usually play with a band,” the crowd is silent as he unclips his guitar case and pulls the acoustic onto his lap, your body leaning forward a little as you squint at the words scrawled over the body.

“But thought I'd give this a go” he strums a couple of cords looking up and glancing around the crowd. He holds himself taller, an easy grin on his face but the bob in his throat as he swallows gives him away.

His songs aren't anything like you expected.

You'd readied yourself for something more a tune to the sounds that usually vibrate the walls, it's heavy but the chords progression is almost folky and he has a gravel in his voice that makes your stomach flip. Lyrics angry and funny in equal measure, with a disdain for the work week and the world.

The crowd's response is a mixed bag, no heckles, but your applauds are by far the loudest and he smiles over at you every time a line has you laughing.

He doesn't leave after his set and his demeanour completely changes. Flirty and confident with easy flowing conversation about music, life and the story of his guitar.

He's what you wanted from this night filled with music and laughter and he promises to be back leaving with a wink.

******

It was inevitable, you'd seen it a thousand times before. People walk out into the night air giggling and tipsy and walk back in hazy-eyed and stumbling.

Gareth was already stumbling.

“Shotgun!”

You wince at the rate Gareth falls out through the door, and peek over Grant and Jeff's shoulder as they watch him lay on the sidewalk arms spread and laughing.

Eddie steps out behind you as the others haul him up, pulling out a pack of smokes and offering you one.

“You don't have shotgun we're not animals. Jazz gets shotgun,” he says mumbling around the cigarette hanging from his mouth as he pats himself down.

“That's bullshit.” Gareth sways back a couple of steps taking Grant and Jeff with him and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I really don't mind,” you say quickly, the gesture was nice but you've seen enough innocuous disagreements sour to risk it.

Eddie scoffs lighting his cigarette “You've been on your feet for what 12 hours?” you try to recall the morning which seems like a lifetime ago.

“14 hours?"

“14 hours? Christ. Yeah, you have shotgun.”

“No.”

You turn away catching the beginning of an objection but cut him off. “Gareth you're good I can sit in the back”

“Fucking aye” his face lights up and he lurches forward dragging Jeff with him, Grant joining you both to watch the pair sway away before you slowly follow.

“If he can't fucking hold his drink-” Eddie grumbles from beside you.

“Come on you remember being 21, give him a break.”

“Can you remember being 21?” Grant says chin lifted.

He leans into you conspirationaly “He's a massive lightweight.” you turn with a smirk to see Eddie glowering at his friend. “In his defence, he'd just graduated, took him long en-“

“No.” Eddie says sternly as you look between the pair, throwing Grant the keys who catches them easily in one hand.

“I'm not getting him in the van.” He gives him a warning look and Jeff and Grant groan.

The brick is cold enough to feel your jacket as you come to rest against the wall beside Eddie. Silently smoking as you watch them try to fit a squirming Gareth in through the door in the barely lit van, their voices bouncing around the empty street.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say breaking the silence, hugging yourself a little as the cool air clings to you.

He gives you a dismissive shake of his head. “Not letting you ride the bus home,”

“The 11.35 is a breeze, 3 am's when it gets interesting, extra sticky.” he frowns at you, dark shadows extenuating the lines of his face and you laugh “It's fine, like I said I've got mace and I know all the drivers by now.”

He hums unconvinced and takes a drag of his cigarette amber glow illuminating him for a second before he lets it hang from his mouth.

“Well consider us your Thursday night ride.” he opens his arms wide towards the rest of the band as they try to buckle Gareth in.

“I appreciate it really, but it going to be midnight at the earliest before I get off, I only managed this because Angie and Gus wanted to fuck on stage.”

He chokes on an inhale, a plume of smoke coming out as he looks at you wide-eyed, nose wrinkling.

“No.”

“Yep,” you ash your cigarette under your boot and lean away from the wall “Rule number 4 does not apply to the owners.”

You head to join the other two boys in watching Gareth's drooling face pressed up against the glass and feel Eddie come up behind you

“We got him in the van, you have to get him up the stairs,” Grant says walking away without a glance.

You chuckle to yourself and follow leaving Jeff and Eddie still softly frowning at their unconscious friend. Jeffs pats his arm nodding to himself as Gareth mutely stirs behind the glass, lips smacking.

“He's gonna puke in your van.”

****

The ride back to your apartment was filled with a mixture of laughter and you hanging on for dear life as Eddie navigated the streets, two emergency stops for Gareth to puke his guts up and ended with you running back to the van and making Eddie promise to lay him on his side.

You'd chewed Jay out the next night for serving him after you had told him to stop and worried the rest of the weekend as it went on in its usual orchestrated chaos. You slept Sunday away and by Tuesday, watching the boys play felt like a dream.

The boombox blares a new mix tape you'd made as ypu clear up ready to settle into the weekly wait to see if Bill shows, the small room humid and smelling strongly of detergent as the dishwasher cycle ends.

You don't hear the front door open or the greeting that's yelled out over the volume of the music, your singing distracts you from the body settling into Bill's chair.

The song changes and the start of ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ starts and you spin, volume of your voice rising as you pull open the dishwasher taking out glasses and putting them into a crate to the beat. Ready to be dried and polished still cloudy with heat, the chorus comes in and you yell it out as you round the corner.

“Hey,”

Eddie says with a smirk from his place on Bill's chair raising his hand in greeting, a bolt of adrenaline runs through you tingling your fingers making you screech. The crate slips from your hands and the glasses explode into shards which fly off in all directions.

“Oh shit” Eddie rises immediately rounding the bar quickly and you brandish a broom at him before he can make his way behind, slapping off the boom box.

“What are you doing here?! “You splutter confusion and panic creasing your features, your heartbeat still thudding in your ears.

His eyes are wide and he takes a step back.

“A. Are you not open? The signs on.”

You gape at him looking between him and the door “Yes but nobody.” the worry on his face, makes you hesitate and you lower the broom leaning it against the side so you can cover your face with your hands, taking a deep inhale.

“I didn't mean to scare you, I can help."

“No. No, it's my own fault.” you look around and grab the broom “shit”. This was going to cost you, Gus would let a couple of broken glasses slide but this was definitely coming out of your paycheck.

Glass crunches under your feet as you try to get the worst of it and he tentatively goes to sit back down.

“Not there.” he stops hovering over Bill's chair and you point to the stool next to it.

“Expecting someone.”

“Yes”

“Not me.” A small smirk pops one of his dimples and it aggrivates you how cute it is.

“What do you need Eddie.” You stress coming over to stand in front of him.

“Can't a guy get a drink.”

The joke doesn't land and he looks sheepish as you watch him pulls out a wrinkled piece of paper from his bag pushing it over to you.

“New set for this week.”

“New?” You say, tentatively taking it “Not just rearranged?

“Nope.”

You can feel him watching you as your eyes run over the list, and you can't help but smile at the slower songs at the start, a few sticking out as unfamiliar.

“Are these originals?”

“I mean yeah, we thought we could try some songs out early on, and play more familiar stuff later. If that's cool?”

“You a cover band?”

He scoffs “No.”

“Then it's fine.” you laugh “It looks great.”

The look on his face makes him look boyish as he smiles to himself tucking the paper back away and you resume cleaning.

“So. Could I still get that drink?”

You chat about the next gig and are filled in on Gareth's monumental hangover which lingered over two full days as he ripped the label from his bottle into small piles and he agrees to one more before he should probably get going.

“You know. Thursday wasn't the first time I've played here.”

“Yeah?” you say twisting the cap off his bottle and sliding the beer over to him “You played with a different band?”

“No, uh.” he spins the bottle before taking a sip “Just me. At the open mic.”

“What? When?”

He chuckles, tipping his head slowly from side to side curls swaying with the movement “Like March last year.”

You squint at him trying to find something you recognise and as he stares back at you eyebrows raised, you realise then what that familiarity had been in his eyes and instantly feel awful. “Eddie I'm sorry, there's been so many people I don't remember half the people who come in anymore unless they play every week and even then. “

He waves you off “It's good, it was a one time thing, I was kind of worried to come back to be honest. The crowd wasn't exactly enthusiastic.” he scrunches his nose and you sigh leaning to prop your head up on your hand.

“God those first few months were painful they all thought it was-.”

“Karaoke.”

You stand upright looking down to the Wasp tee he's wearing and back up, searching his face again you trying to find any kind of memory of him that's been lost.

That familiarity is there again flickering behind big Bambi eyes again as he looks at you with a tight smile.

Then it clicks.

“Oh my god!” you point at him. “Guthrie.”

He grins, teeth fully on show now and knocks his knuckles against the bar top.

“This machine slays dragons." astonishment that he's here, that's you'd forgotten him, he was one of the first people to make you feel like the night as a whole could work." Oh my god.”

He nods, laughing into his beer the sound of his exhale loud inside the glass.

The memory of him and his songs and chatting all come rushing back and then you pause, face falling slightly as your shock and enthusiasm dwindles a little.

“You never came back.”

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