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wesstars · 8 months

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touch

jenna ortega x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: jenna, your lovely girlfriend, has been away filming for far too long, in your opinion. she thinks so, too. wc: 2.6k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. all characters are 18+. phone sex, masturbation, bad dirty talk lmao, this is basically all bad dirty talk, light D/s dynamics, name calling/slight degradation, praise, reader is a soft dom, strap-on referred to as “cock,” horribly excessive use of italics, feels a bit odd writing rpf… a/n: @crazyoffher :) returning the favor!

masterlist

6:01 pm

call u in a sec?

A grin lighting up your face at the text, you hurriedly type an affirmative reply as you unlock your apartment door. Dropping your bag, you kick your shoes off, sighing as you shed your coat. Making a beeline for your bedroom, your eyes slide shut as you flop down on your gigantic bed. You’d washed the sheets earlier, and they were feeling extra soft. If Jenna were here, she’d be rolling around in them, covering her own scent with one of fresh linen.

Usually, she was—you were lounging in your shared apartment, a wide open space near the top of a sleek, tall building. Every evening in LA, the two of you could be found here, the appeal of a night in far exceeding that of a night out. A bottle of wine and a packet of popcorn to share wasn’t rare either, the expensive drink wasted on you two young lovers.

Everything had happened so quickly, but you loved it. A chance meeting on a plane had led to a long conversation about anything and everything, so common for new couples, and one-drink dates across busy nights had culminated into a fateful party invitation and an equally fateful blushing confession. Your relationship was wild, and crazy, and everything you could’ve wanted. A year later, Jenna had surprised you with a set of keys. It was a certain kind of promise that made those long nights, waiting for a phone call from half a world away, so worth it.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Seeing the ID, you instantly pick up.

“Jenna?”

“Hey,” her familiar voice comes shyly through the speaker, a comforting sound. “Are you busy?”

“No, I just got home from work.”

Jenna hums in a way that tells you she’s plotting something, and her little stifled giggle just confirms your suspicions. You fake a sigh, happy to venture into her ploy.

“Jenna, did you have something to drink?”

“No.” She huffs a laugh. “I just miss you. Tired of me already?” She asks, with innocent veneer.

“Of course not,” you say. “It’s good to hear from you, you're so busy now, I had to talk to your secretary,” you teased. She was busy, but you’d already done the calculation of Jenna’s timezone to yours—for her, filming would’ve just wrapped up in the midnight hours. For you, the setting sun was just beginning to stream through the glass walls, and you pressed the button on the nightstand to draw the curtains.

“Well, if you’re not busy,” Jenna presses on casually, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Jenna,” you smile. It was a dialogue you two had often, something you never tired of.

“Mmm,” Jenna’s voice tugs in your stomach, lilting into a whine at the end of her emission, “I miss you, baby.”

Your mouth goes dry; it’s an automatic reaction. Damnit, this girl—she knew what kind of effect she had on you. You were glad the room was dark, because if you had to face your own blushing cheeks in the light, you might’ve just collapsed. You pull the phone away from your ear long enough to take a deep breath. “Do you, Jen?” Keeping your voice composed, you roll the end of the duvet between your fingers to keep you grounded.

“Miss you so much,” she says, the rustling in the background telling you she’s rolling on the covers. She lets out a lilting laugh, the sound sending a swooping, giddy feeling into your stomach. Jenna’s trying to lure you in; it was her game: enticing you with that docile, persuasive tone.

You decided to play, though you held back just a bit. “How much?”

“Some of your clothes still smell like you,” she says in lieu of a direct answer. “So I’m wearing your big shirt, the black one.” You’d been wondering where that shirt went, one you often slept in. Even now, you can see in your head how Jenna looked when she stole that shirt: it cut off at her thighs, the kind of sacrilegious short that inspired crimes. It reminds you of countless times she’d surprised you, when you slid your hands up under the hem to find—

“What else, Jen?”

“No bra,” she replies sweetly, laughing lightly at the end.

“No bra, huh,” you repeat. You can practically feel your pupils dilating, the heat around your collar. “Good.”

“And this,” Jenna sighs, “lace number I got here; it looks like the one you gave me last year.”

Your jaw clenches, and you glance at the clock, looking but not seeing. You remember what she’s talking about—a pair of panties, an expensive little excuse for fabric that grew dark at the slightest moisture. Jenna’s birthday had ended in a long, long night.

“It’s red,” she says, “just like my nails.”

Fuck. Everything feels hot, and you can just picture her in that standard issue trailer, lights dimmed, alone in a way that should be illegal. “How much time do you have?”

“Not a lot… got an early morning tomorrow.” There's a trailing edge of disappointment in her voice, but you’re familiar with her—she’s looking, hoping for you to guide her, to push her in the way only you know how.

You breathe in, deeply, your own desire quickly falling prey to Jenna’s. She had you wrapped around her little finger, that’s for sure, but she trusted you to hold her down. “Hand in your hair, Jenna. Gentle,” you instruct.

You hear her sharp inhale, but you have no question that she’ll listen. When Jenna gets like this, playful but pliant, you know she’s willing to go with just about anything you ask. It’s torture for you, each second you wait. “Now pull.”

Her responding whimper sends a bolt of heat down your neck, and you let out a silent breath. Jenna loved it when you would touch her hair, even when it was as innocent as just braiding it. The haze in her eyes when you’d tug on her locks, telling her how good she feels, was your favorite. “Harder. Do you like it?”

She breathes out, “yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Tell me what’s been on your mind to get you eager like this.” She’s shy, you hear it in her sigh, even though her hands are still running in her hair. “C’mon.”

“I miss your mouth on my neck.” The words tumble out of her almost immediately, and you dare to wonder if that’s been on her mind all day. The bruises you’d left there before filming started were long gone, no doubt. She’d begged you to make them darker, and you were all too happy to please. “I miss the car, before the airport…”

Those frantic, heated ten minutes you two were able to spare in the car before Jenna’s flight were chastised by her manager and makeup team, but you wouldn’t have traded them for anything. “That’s perfect Jen,” you coax gently. She liked your encouragement, you knew.

“And…” it’s as if something snaps in the air on the telephone line, pushing both you and Jenna’s inhibitions to the ground. “I wish you were here,” she whispers, the cliche line sending equally cliche butterflies rushing through your lower stomach. “I’d be on my knees for your cock right now, and you’d pull my hair, so I’d-” she whines, a small and breathless noise-“suck it so good ‘cause I know where it’s going next—”

“Fingers in your mouth,” you interrupt, blood rushing in your ears. “And listen to me.” If you’d let Jenna keep going, you might’ve just booked a plane ticket right then and there. You can hear her obey you through the speaker, moaning softly. “Play with your nipples under your shirt. Be gentle.” It’s a warning, you know she knows, and a reminder that you control her pace.

“Mmm,” she hums, complying. It’s practically confession on bended knee, how her muffled whimper makes something shoot through your lower stomach.

“Press down on your tongue.” You hear her breath shaking, right in your ear. It makes you bite your tongue to keep from moaning out loud. “Don’t gag, don’t be greedy, Jenna.” She whines around her fingers, and you know her telltale little cry as she touches herself as instructed. You can hear that she’s not being as gentle as you wanted, but you had always been weak for your girl.

“You wanna put on a show for me, honey? Twist.” You wouldn’t know it, but Jenna instantly closes her eyes at the word show, her pulse spiking.

Jenna’s uneven breaths are pure song to you through the speaker, and it puts your every nerve on edge, remembering how she would sprawl on your sheets, just like how you were now, happy to be over or under you. She’s so vocal tonight, every exhale coming out with a small oh, and it makes you wonder if it’s because of something more than just the distance and time between you two.

The cadence of her breathing matches your stuttering heart. “For someone that likes having her mouth stuffed,” you mutter, “you sure wanna talk real bad.”

The whimper Jenna lets out is enough of an answer.

“Alright babydoll, you can take your fingers out.” Almost immediately, you can hear her panting. You keep your voice even, despite the heat on your cheeks. “I bet you’re soaked, aren’t you?”

Her voice is raspy when she speaks. “I am…”

“Two fingers in your cunt.”

“What about-” you can hear her swallow- “what about my underwear?”

“Push it to the side,” you say, dismissive. You could practically see Jenna like this, warm brown hair splayed on the pillows, shirt rucked up to her breasts, with enough want to end a war.

It’s silent on the other side of the line, save for the shallow breaths you hear her taking. “Are you waiting, good girl?”

She hums an affirmative.

“Go ahead, I won’t make you beg right now,” you say with a nonchalance you absolutely do not have, “fuck yourself.”

Her breathy laugh in response would drive a saint to sin, and she’s only all too eager to comply. Jenna’s shudder comes out in her moan as she shoves two fingers in herself, shameless in her need.

You close your eyes, her quiet little moan telling you all you need to know. The impatient groan she gives you is just vulnerable enough to be desperate, and it makes your head swim.

Jenna’s voice is small. “You know…”

“What is it, darling?”

“Wish I could put this on a camera for you, baby,” she whines, breath hitching. “Wish you could watch me right now.”

The mere thought of it is enough to have you biting your lip, hard enough to bleed. With the way that Jenna loved to perform, the idea had occurred to you before, but you were always too hesitant to bring it up. “You want me to see you, don’t you? Blushing and wanting all by yourself,” you mock, your arousal overriding your rationality, “you need someone to fuck you, is that it?”

“I need you to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I don’t remember it all, and,” her voice breaks, “you’ll make me watch our video later, to make me like this again.” You close your eyes again, your knuckles growing white around the sheets fisted in your hand.

“Like what, Jenna?”

“Messy, and-” her voice climbs higher with a gasp-“needy.”

The words cling in your mind, ivy on a terrace. It only takes half a moment for your mind to conjure her up again, flushed cheeks and two fingers deep in her pussy, framed by red lace.

“Is that what you are, mmm?”

She gives a moan, and you laugh because she’s embarrassed. It’s nearly pathetic, how bad you wish you could see Jenna’s face.

“Want…” There’s a hesitant pause. “Want your hand around my throat, too.”

God, no one knew how to play you quite like Jenna did. “Jenna,” you groan, your facade rapidly crumbling, “you’d look so pretty like that, baby.”

“Yeah,” Jenna agrees mindlessly, “I like it ‘cause…” her voice is strained in a way that you just know she has her head thrown back, strong and delicate, “you’re so gentle.” It’s with a bleeding intimacy that momentarily makes you forget you’re thousands of miles away from Jenna, and the only thing you can think of is her warm eyes on yours, just begging for you to touch her.

She quiets down, and in the damning silence that follows, you hear her fucking herself. And because you know your girl, you know she wants you to hear.

“That’s filthy, Jen,” you say, matter-of-factly. It makes your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“I know,” she whines, and you can hear her going just that bit faster. “Fuck-” she exhales sharply- “I’m—I’m close.”

“Already?”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna whispers, and you know with every hitched moan, she’s hitting that spot inside of her. She’s not sorry, and you certainly aren’t either. “I can’t help it…”

You hum noncommittally, feeling anything but. “Don’t come until I say, alright?”

Jenna moans right into the receiver, and you can tell she’s frustrated to high hell. You laugh lowly, something cruel, and it only serves to fuel the way your fingers crave the smooth of her skin, how your tongue wants for her taste.

But that’s when you hear it, blazing through the fog in your mind, of brown eyes and pink lips. “Please…”

“Please what?”

She falters, breathing ragged. “Please let me…” A beat.

“Let you…?” You press on.

“Please,” her voice edges on the right side of desperate, the side that makes all of you pulse. “Baby, I’m so close…”

“I know,” you say simply.

There’s a silence that hangs in the air, and you know without seeing that Jenna’s cheeks are so red with her embarrassment that you could’ve slapped her and not gotten that same glow. You wait, patiently, nails biting into your skin.

“Let me come, please.” Her voice comes out like a quiet sob, resistance broken by her desire.

Letting out a long breath, you press the phone harder to your ear, feeling your fingers tremble. “You’re such a needy slut, Jenna.” She whines again, pleading and keening.

“I know,” she’s soft with it, “I am… so, please?”

You bite your lip, mind swimming, letting her plea hang in the air.

“Come for me, Jenna.”

It's quiet, at first, and then you hear it—a soft, little ah from where she’s clapped a hand over her mouth, and then muffled moans spilling out from behind as she tries so desperately to not let anyone else hear. You clench your jaw, wanting so bad to tear Jenna’s hand from her mouth just so you can take in every little whimper, quiet her with your mouth instead. But you whisper praises into the phone instead, coaxing her through her orgasm. She comes hard, you can hear it in the way she pants after she’s calmed down.

Jenna’s breathing evens out, and you know it before she does—she’s asleep. Your eyes close again, fist clenched in your bedsheets. It wasn’t the first time that she’d fallen asleep right after she came, and it makes a soft little grin play on your lips. The other end of the line is a loving, sated silence. You keep your voice low, not wanting to wake her.

“God, the things I’m gonna do to you, Jenna.”

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #fanfiction #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega smut #smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader smut #reader insert #self insert #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega fanfiction #jenna ortega fic #lgbtq #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #how can I snooze and miss the moment you’re just too important #tara carpenter x reader

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nakahras · 2 months

Text

᯽ mr. loverman • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • you have a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day and to top it off you can’t even go to the one person you’d want to since he’s out of town. or, at least, you thought so.

warnings • intentional lower case, reader has a nightmare of a roommate, cursing, the use of the pet names doll/baby, chuuya being the gossip he is, fem!reader, nsfw, oral (m -> f), nipple/breast play, some nasty shit is said, masturbation (m), fingering, teasing, slight overstim, idk this is some depraved shit honestly

wc • 4k

a/n • i started this when i was having the worst day ever and just wanted boyfriend chuuya :( i cannot be blamed for the smut idk who wrote that but it wasn’t me

you want to scream — to be more accurate you want to off someone, yourself or someone else, either would suffice. unfortunately you stick to screaming, it would cause you less issues. you lift one of the many pillows on your bed and promptly screech your throat raw into the expensive pillow. your head feels as though it’s going to explode just thinking about how your day has gone.

you thought february 29th was supposed to be a lucky day? an extra day in a leap year meant luck, didn’t it? well in your case it didn’t feel very lucky. not at all, actually. in fact you were sure today was a curse. you woke up late, so, your day was off to a bad start from the beginning. your roommate forgot to pay the electricity bill, again, so you had to take a cold shower and couldn’t even make coffee. you stopped at your favorite coffee shop and not only did they get your order wrong but someone bumped into you on your rush to the train station. there was coffee everywhere. every. where.

thanks to the coffee spill you missed your morning train. which normally wouldn’t be a huge deal, except for the fact that you had an early staff meeting. you try to text your coworker that you were running behind but because your roommate forgot to put the payment in for electricity, your phone didn’t charge and died. you don’t even get your message out. you wanted to cry. luckily the train was early and you made it to work just in time.

you thought maybe you had seen the worst of it. your karma surely couldn’t be that bad, right?

wrong.

you work as a nurse in cardiology. you had not one, not two, but three people code on you. it always came in threes. three emergency services calls. three rounds of performing cpr. three separate incident reports to type out. you were exhausted by the end of the day.

you almost cried again when your favorite coworker offers you a ride home. he was a saint in disguise and you told him so. a literal gift from heaven. you promise him a homemade lunch in return and he waves you off as you climb out of the car. when you get to your apartment you’re pleasantly surprised to see your roommate cleaning. a rare occasion.

the electricity is back on too so you take the opportunity to enjoy a relaxing bath and some wine. you thought, once again, maybe the worst was over.

wrong. again.

when you got out of the bathroom you thought you vaguely heard chatter but chalked it up to a show your roommate was probably watching. you change into a t-shirt, skipping a bra because it’s just you and your roommate at home, and a pair of sleeping shorts that barely cover anything. when you walk out with your headphones on you’re stunned to see 3 strangers in your home.

your roommate looks at you like you’re the crazy one. like she isn’t the one that didn’t warn you about the company. you double check then triple check your phone. nope, not a single text for warning. you awkwardly wave and consider digging a hole and living in it when she introduces one of the strangers as her new boyfriend. in that moment you want to perish, cease from existing altogether.

you don’t even get a chance to grab your food before you’re making a half assed excuse to step away and run back to your room.

you’re now laying on your bed, letting tears of frustration stream down your face. you can’t even call the one person who would make it all better. your boyfriend was away for a business trip. you didn’t want to accidentally interrupt something important. you knew he would drop everything

your boyfriend also has this freaky 6th sense, like he can always tell when you’re thinking of him. so, you’re not surprised when your phone begins to ring and you’re met with his contact photo. you let out a sigh and pick up.

“chuuya…” you breathe out. you sound terrible, you know you do, but you can’t bring yourself to even care to mask it.

you can hear vague rustling in the background before chuuya is speaking. “you don’t sound okay. what’s wrong?”

you start crying again. how does he do that? he always seems to know when you need him most. right now was definitely one of those times. you wish he could actually be there. you missed his warm and safe embrace.

“i’m not. i had a really shitty day and i feel so ridiculous about how much it’s getting to me…” you let out a humorless laugh at how pathetic you feel saying that out loud. you’re throwing a fit over a bad day. who does that?

and all you wanted was for chuuya to be here. but you couldn’t tell him that, if you did he would dismiss everything and come running. then you would feel bad about coming between him and his work. you let out a frustrated sigh.

you can practically hear the frown on chuuya’s face when he speaks. “you wanna tell me ‘bout it? i’ll listen. or is there something else i can do to make you feel better?”

you don’t deserve him. you think to yourself.

moments like this make you really think about how chuuya deserves way more than what you can give him. you go days at a time without talking to him because of school and work. you lock yourself in your room and ignore the world outside just to keep up with your school work. you know it’s unfair to chuuya even if you always do give him a warning. he is always incredibly understanding over it that you almost cry out of guilt. he even brings you meals and hydration packs to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

things like this remind you just how selfish you can be when it comes to him. all you want is him. but are you allowed to even feel like that when he’s away for work — a good reason by the way, much better than your own. he never complains when you need space so why would you? to you the answer is simple, you won’t complain.

of course, chuuya sees it differently. he knows that if you didn’t have to cut everyone off to focus on your work you wouldn’t. but your mind doesn’t work like that and he gets it. does he miss you when you have to take a break from reality? absolutely, but he doesn’t complain because he already knows how bad you feel about it.

so instead of saying ‘yes, i need you’ like you want to you let out another sigh. “how much work do you have left today?”

”funny you ask me that, doll. i finished everything early today.” chuuya chuckles when he can practically see the way you perk up.

you still hesitate when you ask, “does that mean you're coming back to yokohama early?”

the port mafia executive smiles widely at just how adorable he finds you. the way you still get so shy to ask him things that should be a given. chuuya adores you and couldn’t imagine spending his now free time with anyone other than you. so, of course he took the opportunity to get back as soon as possible. apparently his timing was impeccable because from the sound of it, you could use a break.

chuuya was already on his way to your apartment. it was supposed to be a surprise, but he figures since he’s already almost there…

“why don’t you pack a bag and come down to find out for yourself, hm?” he lets out another chuckle when your excited squeal finds it’s way onto his side of the phone.

you quickly grab your small duffle and stuff some essentials into it. you have a drawer at chuuyas jam packed with clothing already and a whole second set of your favorite hygiene products so you only need to grab a few things. you pack your laptop and a couple articles of your comfier clothing. you change quickly, stuffing your legs into some jeans and actually putting on a bra underneath your t-shirt.

you grab your phone where chuuya is still on the line. “okay, all packed. should i come down now?”

“yeah, your surprise should be there any minute.” chuuya pulls up to the front of your building as he says those words and can’t help the pleased smile on his face.

you chuckle and shake your head. “my surprise, huh wonder what it could-“ you’re cut off when your roommate calls out your name questioningly in your rush to get out of the door. your eye twitches when you’re reminded of the randoms in your apartment but put on a smile anyways. “it was so nice meeting you guys, sorry i can’t stay but my boyfriend came back into town early so i’m gonna go see him. bye.”

you don’t miss the way your roommate perks up at the mention of chuuya. “oh? chuuya is here? you should invite him up. i would love to see him.

“i’m sure you would. he’s tired though. maybe some other time.” you grit your teeth and smile sweetly. you don’t wait for a response as you practically run out the door and lock it behind you.

you huff and then remember chuuya is on the other side of the phone still, you grimace realizing he heard the whole thing. “sorry…”

“didn’t know i was so tired.” chuuya laughs as you let out a groan.

you catch the elevator before the doors close from someone just getting out and stab at the button to the ground floor. “i’m tired of their shit, therefore, you’re tired too. plus did you really wanna sit through another awkward meal where my roommate dotes on you. god and her new boyfriend was there. can you imagine how uncomfortable that would be? gross. i don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

“someone’s actually insane enough to agree to date her? condolences to whoever that guy is.” chuuya’s voice drips with genuine surprise.

you let out a giggle at how scandalized your boyfriend sounds. “you’re telling me she doesn’t pique your interest, sunshine?”

he chuckles and you can practically hear the eye roll from his end of the line. “nah, my girl is the only one for me.”

you’re walking out of the elevator when you stop in your tracks for a moment. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with him, when chuuya calls you his girl it makes you melt. your brain malfunctions a little and it makes you really think about how you truly are all his.

without hesitation you breathe out an “i love you.” before moving forward to the entrance of your building.

“i love you.” it’s instantaneous, his answer.

chuuya never has to think twice about telling you how much he adores you. he is immutably in love with you. there was no doubt in his mind and, even though it took some time for you to believe so, there was no longer a single doubt in your mind either. chuuya had made certain that you would never question it.

you make it to the entrance. the moment you open the door you’re welcomed with the sight of chuuya leaning against his car. his phone is still up to his ear as his grin widens upon seeing you.

you drop your hand and phone from your ear and hang up before rushing over to the ginger. you drop your duffle bag near the car before jumping into the executive's arms. he was anticipating the impact and caught you with ease.

the bicolor eyed man holds you tightly and you bury your face in his neck. his soft hair tickles your face but you couldn’t care less. you take in a deep breath and his scent envelopes you and all the tension your body had been previously holding completely dissipates.

your voice is muffled when you say, “i missed you, so much.”

“i missed you too.”

you both stand there in each other’s arms for a few more seconds before chuuya sets you down. he grabs your bag from the ground and opens the passenger door for you. you thank him and climb in. your boyfriend wastes no time placing your bag on the backseat and slipping into the drivers side.

the ginger takes you to your favorite take out restaurant and you order all of your favorites. when you get back to his penthouse you set up his couch into a lounge bed and get ready to watch one of your favorite movies. while you’re doing that, chuuya is pouring you both a glass of wine.

you’re happily munching on your food and sipping on your wine when chuuya hits you with. “you should move in.”

your head snaps back to look up at him, your brow is furrowed and you give him a confused look. “we haven’t talked about it before. are you being serious right now?”

“completely.” he doesn’t even look at you, his tone so nonchalant and you’re just gaping at him.

you set your drink and food aside and shift off of chuuya. he’s about to complain until you sit yourself on his lap straddling his waist and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you pluck the remote from his hand and turn over your shoulder to pause the movie. you wanted to make sure you had his undivided attention (you always did).

you study him for a moment before responding. “are you sure?”

“yes. i have 2 extra rooms that aren’t being used. we don’t have to share a bedroom yet and you would still have a separate office space. c’mon, doll, let me get you out of that nightmare of an apartment.” chuuya reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

he did that on purpose. you know he did. the way he caresses your face with his always surprisingly soft fingers is unfair. he knows how distracting it is to you.

you try to process what he says but it takes you quite a bit longer than it should have but it doesn’t take you long to make your decision. “…okay.” it comes out whispered.

“okay?” chuuya asks you incredulously like he was actually expecting you to reject his offer.

you nod your head with a blush creeping up your face. “yes, okay. i’ll move in with you.

chuuya can’t help himself and presses his hands across your back to bring you into him. his lips crash into yours and you share a moment of pure bliss. his lips meld perfectly with yours. he tastes of peppermint and grapes. the taste increases as his tongue slips past your lips and tangles with your own. you let out a short gasp at the sudden intrusion but melt into him anyways.

you both stay like that for a few minutes. your hips begin to stutter on their own. your breaths and gasps and quiet moans fill the atmosphere. chuuya’s hands have found their way under your shirt and he’s already playing with the band of your bra. his fingers expertly undo the clasps and hands glide across your now naked back.

your lungs scream at you. you want more of him but you have to oblige your body’s need for air. you part from his lips and rest your forehead on his own, breath mixing together as you both pant for air.

chuuya only gives you a moment, hips still moving into his when he grabs at your hair and gently pulls your head back so he can trail kisses down your neck. it takes all of his self control to not bite your soft skin. per your request, he’s always careful not to leave marks on areas that would be visible in your scrubs. this is the one instance where his need to please you outweighs his need to be possessive.

if chuuya had it his way, he would make everyone aware of just how much you are his. for your sake, though, he reigns in that side of himself. he supposes he’ll just have to show the world you’re his in different ways. like in the form of a key, and in the form of a ring he has stashed away in the far corners of his closet, and maybe even some day in the form of his child.

chuuya’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice. he hadn’t even realized that your positions had switched. you were panting underneath him, face flushed, and — fuck — you look so gorgeous like this. you were always beautiful. but having you like this, something only he got to see always made something primal in him stir.

you huff and grab ahold of the ginger’s face. his mind was obviously elsewhere. “chuuya. listen to me. what are you doing?”

chuuya’s eyes, which had glazed over, somewhat clear from the fog. he smiles at you as he lowers himself further down your body and lifts your shirt to press kisses to your stomach. you let out a whine, ready to complain about him still not listening.

“relax, baby, i’m helping you relieve some stress.” chuuya draws soothing circles into your skin then, without waiting for your response his hands travel to your pajama pants to untie them.

your hand shoots out to stop him, still panting and slightly dazed. “what about you?”

“don’t worry about me. i can take care of myself while i take care of you.” he says it so unabashedly you can’t bring yourself to question him.

then your head starts spinning. the thought of him touching himself while taking care of you is so incredibly hot it ignites your entire body on fire. there’s no longer a single thought in your head that doesn’t involve chuuya’s mouth, his lips, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. you need it all.

you reach out and card your fingers through the gravity manipulator’s silky hair. he hums at the action and takes it as his sign to continue. his fingers work quickly, undoing the ribbon and hooking around both the elastic of the pants and your panties. his movements are so fluid and fast you can hardly keep up. your bottom half is completely bare but he’s not satisfied there.

his hand slides up underneath your shirt and through the valley of your breasts. he watches intently as your shirt slowly rides up to expose your breasts. his fingers ghost over each mound briefly before they’re sliding down your body again and gripping at your thighs, holding them open.

“so damn pretty.” chuuya hums and his eyes flit up to gaze up at your flushed face. “do me a favor, baby? play with those perfect tits of yours for me, won’t you?”

his voice is sickly sweet and smooth like honey. you’re so enamored by the sound that you almost don’t hear him. his expectant look is what starts up the wheels in your head to turn. his words process and your hands move on their own accord. you start kneading at your chest while maintaining eye contact with his bicolored eyes.

chuuya groans. “god, doll. look at you. playin’ with yourself like that. ‘s sexy as hell- you’re sexy as hell.”

“chuuya…” you let out a whine. your patience thinning by the second as you wiggle your ass for any chance at friction.

your boyfriend lets out a chuckle. “okay, okay. think i’ve made you wait long enough, hm? deserve a reward for all the hell you were put through today.”

chuuya, once again, doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he’s dipping his head down to get face to face with your already slick cunt. his tongue is quick as he runs it up and down your folds. you feel him sigh in relief against you, like this is the first meal he’s had in days. it might as well be with how much he craved you when he was away.

although, he was focused on you — focused on making this all about you — chuuya knows if he doesn’t make good on his word of relieving himself you’ll never let him hear the end of it. who is he to deny himself the added pleasure when you’re demanding it of him. so, chuuya lets go of one of your thighs to fumble with his belt and free his strained cock from its confines.

you vaguely watch his arm move. your attention wavering as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. your back arches and hands squeeze at your breasts in surprise as you moan out his name.

chuuya smirks, absolutely pleased by the reactions he elicits from you. his hand that freed his cock moves to collect some of the wetness that’s steadily dripping out of you. once he’s satisfied with the amount he lowers his hand and uses your slick as lube to touch himself.

you try to comment on it but your mouth isn’t working right. the only thing that comes out is, “chuuya~ so good. ‘s so- fuck- so good…”

chuuya groans, clearly enjoying this as much as you are. his hips start to stutter as he lets go of your other thigh to gather more of your juices in that hand. his mouth it still making expert work of your clit while his fingers are closing in on your entrance. he teases you a little, circling the hole a few times before slowly pushing in two of his lithe fingers.

your head is thrown back as a slew of cursed moans falls from your lips. this time chuuya lets out a moan of his own when he feels your walls fluttering around his fingers already. his hand being used on himself starts pumping faster, his cheeks hollowing more frequently and fingers start sliding in and out of you at an alarming rate.

he’s close, you realize. he’s close and wants you to cum before him. you aid him in his endeavor by rolling your nipples between your fingers then squeezing slightly to pinch them. the added sensation makes your whole body twitch.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck. chuuya, gonna cum~ ‘s too much. gonna-“ a euphoric wave crashes over you and you let out an embarrassing squeal like moan as your vision spots and ears rings.

chuuya’s slurps while lapping up at your orgasm are insanely lewd and the noise alone is enough to send him crashing as well. what really does him in is the sight before him. your eyes rolling back into your head and mouth hanging open. he moans deeply, from his chest, and spills into his hand. he pumps himself a few more times until he’s twitching from the overstimulation.

chuuya laps up every last drop your cunt has to offer while you come down from that amazing high and catch your breath. when he’s happy with his clean up he rests his cheek on your thigh. you prop yourself up to look at him. he looks so angelic, hair slightly tousled from your fingers running through it earlier, face glistening from your juices and face flushed. chuuya smiles at you then turns his head to leave sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

you let your head hang back before groaning. he was going to be the death of you. you knew he wasn’t finished with you by a long shot.

“we have plenty of time to do this when i move in.” you whine.

chuuya lets out an elated laugh. “so, when are we moving you in? tomorrow?”

you let out a genuinely amused laugh, shaking your head at his eagerness.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #᯽. banners/dividers made by @/cafekitsune #᯽. éli originals

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storiesoflilies · 16 days

Text

cherry cola, cigarette kisses

pairing: guitarist!toji fushiguro x singer!reader

warnings: slight age gap (reader is 25, toji is 30), mentions of drugs and alcohol, smoking, swearing.

a/n: a little drabble for the ‘jujutsu journal’ collab by @ayyy-pee. dividers by @/benkeibear. toji drabble collection here.

people came to see the band live really just to catch a glimpse of the two of them in person.

of her, with her cream linen summer dresses, lips painted red like the cans of cherry cola she drank on stage between sets, dainty gold rings adorning her fingers, silk red ribbons tied in pretty big bows on her wrists, and matching platform heels. her with a voice so cool and suave, like ice, that it made all the boys go crazy for her.

and of him, toji fushiguro. with his cigarette smoke voice, all husk and fire, and veiny hands that held his guitar with practiced finesse. with his guitar solos that made you want to throw your head back in ecstasy, and his rolled-up sleeves to expose his corded forearms, driving the girls wild with desire.

people came to see them play and see the way they moved together.

when she sang, toji would close his eyes and tilt his head back, lost in the ecstasy that was the privilege of listening to her art. plucking the strings of his electric guitar along to play a tune to support her voice, like a flowing stream carrying along a floating feather. he let the vibrations of the bass through the speakers and reverberate into his bones, feeling the thrum of the crowd with their phone lights flashing and swaying, and inhaling the scent of sweat and dreams in the air.

god, his girlfriend was so fucking cool, and they all didn’t even know the half of it.

they didn’t know how pretty she looked when she danced naked in the dark in front of their penthouse views of the city lights below. with red wine swirling in her glass amidst a smokey haze, he’d exhale a big fume of his joint, and think to himself that he was so goddamn lucky to have picked up that crumpled, wet ‘guitarist wanted’ flyer all those years ago.

of course, the world didn’t know just how lucky toji was just yet.

she’d sing such pretty words, especially about the world thinking you were too young to understand the things you felt. words about everyone telling you that you couldn’t possibly grasp the way things were supposed to work, when in fact, you actually did – perhaps better than everyone else did. toji had been one of those things for her before. their bandmates had been adamantly against the older man pursuing her when they first met four years ago. she was their sweet little cherry, and they didn’t want the ash of him and his cigarettes falling on and ruining her delicate skin.

“she’s too young,” they’d all said. “too dumb to know what you are, fushiguro.”

toji had let their words get to him, the indignant and prideful fire within razing everything to the ground, and disappeared into his studio apartment with only his bong for company. he’d been there for a long time, refusing to answer any of her or the band’s calls, until she showed up knocking at his door in the middle of the night. her makeup was smeared and her vanilla scented perfume still lingered, while he was lost halfway in a dream of minefields, complex labyrinths, and booby traps.

“don’t leave me too,” she’d begged, a tumbling mess of tears, and practically collapsed as she gripped his arms for all she was worth. “not you, please.”

he melted into her right there and then.

toji shushed her softly, holding her close as they lay there in a tangled heap on the floor. he watched as his tears landed on her hair, feeling his high crashing down. “but i’m no good for you, babygirl.”

“nobody is good for each other, toji. love is fucking awful and tears your heart apart, but i still want to do it with you.”

and that was that.

but nobody else knew about them.

they’d been a secret for two years now, and toji had decided that this was it – she was it. his best girl, no other woman would ever compare to her. but she was so nervous, always so good, about what their bandmates and the fans would think. she didn’t want to break anybody’s heart, but toji didn’t care about that anymore.

they belonged to each other, and fuck, the whole world needed to know it. and if they didn’t like it? well, they could go and choke on it.

she swayed back and forth, staring at toji with heart eyes, and and teasingly stuck her tongue out to the side. that was his cue, and the fans knew it too, for him to take control of the music with his fingers and let himself and his guitar run wild. of course, it was to put on a good show, but he knew it was really because she loved his guitar solos more than anyone else did.

“i want you to play guitar for me all the time,” she said one time, teeth stained gray from the wine, twirling in lazy circles as toji strummed his acoustic guitar. “especially when i die, so i can hear the sound of heaven before i go.”

toji abruptly stopped playing and frowned, “don’t even talk about something like that. i’m supposed to go before you anyways, y’know i’m the old one.

“shut up, i can’t live without you.”

he stared at her as he played, never taking his eyes off how she danced and swayed. he watched as she went over to their drummer and pressed a kiss to their cheek. a hot flare of jealousy coursed through his blood, and toji picked up the pace, forcing their drummer to focus and step it up a notch to keep up with him. sweat dripped from his forehead, his dark hair sticking to it in stringy strands, and he licked his lips, tasting salt.

“yeah,” toji thought. “it’s do or die now.”

she took a swig of cherry cola, lipstick stains on the rim, as toji coaxed his solo into an earth-shattering crescendo, sending the crowd into a frenzy of whoops and cheers. still, he never took his eyes off her, following her every movement as he stopped the music suddenly in a dramatic conclusion.

the crowd clapped for the end of the song, and toji lit a cigarette to settle his buzzing nerves, his chest heaving with exertion. she floated over to him, smiling softly, red lipstick slightly faded from the cola, licking her lips as she tilted her head at him. he knew she could read him like a book; she knew something was wrong.

“what is it?” she whispered, being careful not to face the crowd directly.

“let’s do it, babygirl,” toji rasped, taking another long drag from his cigarette.

her eyebrows shot up, and she gaped. “now, toji? right now?”

“yeah, c’mon. let’s drive ‘em all crazy,” he chuckled, blowing his smoke away from her face.

“you mean it, toji?” she frowned, her pretty little heart so goddamn nervous about everyone else’s feelings but her own.

toji flicked his cigarette, adjusted his guitar to his side, and smiled. “let’s not think anymore, let’s just do.”

with that, he pulled her in by the waist and planted a kiss right onto her plush lips. bitter cigarette and sweet cherry flavors mixed intoxicatingly as their mouths danced together, eliciting shocked gasps followed by an almost deathly silence.

and then, it exploded.

the camera flashes went astronomically wild, accompanied cheering that bordered on plain screaming and raving, as a thousand hearts broke and millions swooned. she relaxed into him, putting her hands onto his broad, sweaty chest, flushed from the heat of the moment and the thrill of performing. they pulled apart, his lips swollen and hers tingly, and it was just the two of them amidst the eyes of thousands. she giggled, a nervous bark at the revelation of how their lives were going to change now, and toji beamed.

“you’re trouble, toji fushiguro,” she breathed out, chin on his chest as she gazed up at him in adoration.

toji chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and mumbled, “i’m your trouble.”

general taglist: @tadabzzzbee

#JujutsuJournal #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #guitarist toji #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk au #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen

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why4anne · 3 months

Text

Daylight

Part: 7/?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Follow the love story of a global pop icon and a monegasque F1 driver

Face claim: Taylor Swift (Singing) + others

Masterlist

2022

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, ellenpompeo and 645 943 others

theathletesgala:

Musical guest and award presenter Y/N L/N is in the building. She's wearing a stunning Versace gown and a killer cat eye.

view comments:

yourusername: 🫶🫶

y/nenjoyer: she looks STUNNING!!

girlypopy/n: Dare I say... Revenge dress?

vintagel/n: Oh, definitely!

holyleclerc: It's giving Princess Diana

lonely4lifer: Charles, look at what you lost

havemyleclerc: She is the one who fumbled

summery/n: Y/N lost a second tier F1 driver, Charles lost global pop icon, highest streamed female artist, the woman, the myth, the legend Y/N L/N

leclerctingzz: He's not a second tier F1 driver, he's the future of Ferrari

ubery/n: How many WDC?

childofdivorce: Auntie Blake pick me up I'm scared

lewishamilton: @/donatella_versace you outdid yourself with this dress

donatella_versace: Donatella VERSACE💜

theathletesgala:

liked by lewishamilton, simonebiles and 426 392 others

theathletesgala:

It's a star-studded event here tonight. Multiple athletes have now made their way onto the red carpet including:

Formula 1 drivers Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, Footballers Neymar and Alex Morgan, Gymnast Simone Biles, Figure-skater Tessa Virtue and NFL Quarterback Joe Burrow

Keep your eyes open for your favorite athlete to arrive!

view comments:

joeyb_9: Such a well organized event!

lewishamilton: Blessed to be here🙏

charles_leclerc: Happy to be included❤️

alexmorgan13: This will be so much fun

moreleclerc: Putting Neymar and Charles beside each other is CRAZY

lilttley/n: Okay but can we talk about how both Lewis Hamilton AND Joe Burrow interacted on the post about Y/N earlier??

gemmal/n: Y/N now has the chance to do the funniest thing ever and get with Max Verstappen

home4l/n: STOP- that would be too iconic

justleclerc: The world is not ready for that sort of chaos

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, badgalriri and 742 674 others

theathletesgala:

Miss Y/N L/N what a performance!🙌👏

view comments:

heavenlyy/n: Mother did not come to play tonight!

realy/nfan: fr! She saw that both of her exes were in attendance and said "hold my wine glass"

unifiedy/n: Singing ATW and you're loosing me back to back while STARING at table number 12 (Charles and Neymar's table) is absolutely FOUL!

justl/nthingz: She's so cunty, I love it!

l/ny/nfavorite: Okay but why is no one talking about how she literally sang silver springs by Fleetwood Mac and in true Stevie Nicks fashion was glaring daggers into Charles while doing so!!!!!???

bluey/n: next level balls frfr!

bobbiey/n: Okay but that outfit??? Mother ATE!🔥

holyl/n: Ass out and everything for Charles to see🤭

justy/nfans: I just know that that man will go home and cry himself to sleep tonight

celebritynews

Liked by 202 392 people

celebritynews:

After receiving an anonymous tip from a reliable source, it seems as if Y/N L/N left the athletes gala after party with one of the guests of the night. Who it was is still unclear but stay tuned on celebritynews for more information!

view comments:

summery/n: This girl is a wag at heart

flowersbyl/n: That's so true! She does love her athletes😭

y/nleftpinkynail: Honestly she's so real for that😍

l/nbyy/n: Just like me fr!

chad.larsen: She's such a slut!🙄

leclerc_l/n: Bro GTFO with your musty ass comments!!🤢

brianyoung: Watch out whoever it is. She's gonna write a song about you😵‍💫

littley/n: It's almost like THAT'S HER FUCKING JOB???🤯

greenflowers: misogyny☕️

l/nhouse: Okay but who was it???!!!!

justagirl: I think it was Joe Burrow, did you see how he was looking at her while she was performing??😍

godlyy/n: I hope with my entire being that it's Max Verstappen💀

slayvettel: That would be too iconic!!

icemanfan: Y'all tripping, it's gotta be Lewis!

heavenlyy/n: HOLD UP! What if it was Neymar??

yourusername

liked by blakelively, nicorosberg and 6 582 194 others

yourusername:

cellphone on silent📱❌

comments are disabled:

Tag-list: @mindflay3r @karmabyfernando @lightdragonrayne @ilove-tswizzle @sadg3 @sassyheroneckgiant @c-losur3 @spideybv28 @boiohboii @charizznorizz @amel1ee @loloekie @sunny44 @janeholt3 @berrnuu

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #f1 fic #f1 imagine

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 4 months

Text

What Have I Done… ~Broken!Casey Novak xFem Wife!Reader

Summary— Occurs at the end of season 9/beginning of season 10. When Casey gets in trouble with Liz for committing a Brady violation, she goes home after a long day to Reader. Reader comforts Casey.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, fluff, crying, implied exhaustion, light alcohol consumption, unhappy endings, etc.

Enjoy (;

Liz had given you a call earlier today and given you a heads up of what had gone down today.

You were anxious, biting your lip and nails, and fidgeting like crazy as you waited for Casey to come home. Finally, the door to your shared apartment opened. It creaked open, Casey entered the hallway, and then it creaked shut.

You were in the kitchen, already lightly nursing a glass of wine, standing behind the kitchen island, resting on the island for stability.

Hell, after what Liz has told you, you were sure you would both need the alcohol tonight…

Casey finally came into the kitchen, blazer and shoes still on and case in hand. He stopped at the entrance of the kitchen, froze right on spot.

“Hey Baby…” you gently spoke, as you came around the island, placing the glass down, and coming up to the redhead.

You placed your hands on her side and cheek, while Casey stood frozen still.

“H-hi…” she breathed out.

You looked into her eyes, they were filled with pain and agony. It broke your heart. You pulled your forehead against hers. Casey sighed a little in relief at your direct touch

“Case…” you whispered, “Liz called”

At your words, Casey pulled her head up and stepped back lightly. Suddenly, her briefcase slipped from her fingers and the contents scattered on the ground.

Her eyes began to a swell and her lips began to tremble.

“W-what…?” Casey choked out.

Your heart was being ripped to shreds now. You hated seeing the love of your life in this much pain.

“I talked to Liz. She told me… what happened, about you and the bar…” you softly spoke.

You saw the lump in her throat as Casey swallowed, and as she tried to suppress her tears.

“I’m— I’m a failure” Casey choked out, before she began uncontrollably sobbing.

You were quick to pull her into your embrace, cradling her form with all the love you could muster. Casey immediately melted into your touch, wrapping her hands around you. She instinctively buried her face in the crook of your neck.

“No no no, baby… you’re not a failure.” You whispered, comforting the woman.

“Y-yes I am…!” Casey croaked, in between sobs.

Tears were streaming down the redheads face and onto your shoulder and neck. But you didn’t mind.

“No Case…” you sighed, “You made a mistake… everyone does… and the committee will see that.” You whispered.

You got more uncontrollable sobs in response. You rubbed and caressed Casey in every place you could reach, and you could feel Casey starting to slowly calm, as you let her get it out.

“That’s it. good girl. Get it all out…” you comforted her gently, “How about a bath, hmmm baby…?”

Casey sniffled and nodded slowly into your shoulder. You smiled lightly and nodded, slowly and gently leading Case to your shared bathroom.

You turned the water on.

Then you slowly got her undressed, as well as yourself. Casey wasn’t sobbing uncontrollably anymore, but tears were still rolling off her cheeks and she was still sniffling. You lent her a hand to get into the half-filled tub, joining her promptly after.

Casey was quick to snuggle up to your naked frame, starting to cry again into your chest this time. You played with her hair lightly, gently reassuring her that it was going to be okay and that she was doing good.

Eventually, Casey’s sounds had faded and she started pawing at you.

“Hmmmm Case, what’s up…? Use your words for me, sweet girl…” you coaxed the redhead.

Casey blushed a little.

“Mm hungry…” she murmured.

“Makes sense. Good thing I made lasagna.” You hummed and nodded.

At this, Casey perked up. For a moment, her eyes weren’t dismal, they were hope-filled. But they soon returned to their saddened state.

You then helped Case out of the tub, and handed her a towel to dry off. You both got dressed in your pjs, before heading to the kitchen. You both sat down and you served the food.

Afterwards, you carried a now tired and cried out Casey to your shared bedroom. She immediately snuggled up as the little spoon in bed with you.

“Get some sleep, Case, that’s it… It’s all gonna be okay… we’ll fight this together… but not today. Tomorrow…” you softly spoke.

“Mhmmm… thank you, baby…” Casey murmured, “Don’t know how I got so lucky to be with you…”

“You? I’m the one who’s lucky… luckiest wife alive.” You chuckled.

And before you knew it, she was dozing off, with those little snores you always found so adorable…

~~~

Casey Novak Masterlist

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arc-misadventures · 6 months

Text

The VTuber: Cookie With A Gun

Errant: Hello everyone! Everyone having a good day today?

~~~ Stream Chat~~~

EverbornChild: Hi, Errant!

VIXENFOX389: Hello, darling~!

Kajin@1797: So far so good.

Triffle: Been better.

Kantrop67: It’s okay.

~~~~~~

Errant: A resounding, ‘Okay’ then. Alright then. Now as you’ve no doubt seen in the title of this stream, we will be playing, ‘Wizard with a Gun,’ made by, Galvanic Games. Now I streamed the demo version of this game a while back, and I have been patiently waiting for it to come out since. And, now that it’s finally out, we’re gonna stream it! However, I’m not going to be playing this alone…

~~~ Stream Chat~~~

TumbleDownTheBay: Wait! Is this what I think it is?!

GriffinTalon: A rare collab stream?!

CandiceX: Pleasepleaseplease!

14ever: Please be the hot blonde chick!

CaroporealBannana: No, the sexy catgirl!

BlondeInferno: No the saucy brunette!

~~~~~~

Jaune’s, VTuber model looked at the chat stream with a soft laugh as he shook his head towards their crazy antics.

Errant: I know two blonde chicks, two cat girls, and several brunettes, so you’ll have to specify who precisely it is you’re talking about. Although… ‘Saucy brunette?’ I know at least two people who would best fit that description. But, this person is none of them, she’s more of a gremlin really, one of two gremlins of the Remnant VTuber verse! I’ve done enough teasing, and who am I to leave a lady in waiting…

~~~ Stream Chat ~~~

GaspingDesire: You can leave me waiting as long as you want handsome~!

VixenVolpen: I can wait dear~!

Tender$$: I’m waiting like a steak ready to be eaten!

~~~

Errant: Alright, settle down chat… Ahem! Now, may I present to you everyone’s loveable little gremlin: CookieMonster!

From the right side of the screen soon emerged a girl, who was best described as a brunette with red tips, dressed as a gothic lolita. A girl with a warm, and carrying personality, whose sweet demeanour appeared nonexistent when given a gun. For the, CookieMonster as she referred to herself as was one of the kindest, VTuber’s around, she was also an infamous, and highly skilled FPS player, wining several rewards for her skills, and earning the nickname of: Red Reaper. But, to her fans she was an adorable ball of sunshine, CookieMonster.

Errant: Hello, Cookie! You excited for today?

Cookie: I am super excited! I’ve been so looking forward to this game, and I am super happy you asked me to join you in playing it!

Cookie’s joy, and excitement was palpable as she spoke in her happy-go-luck aura she excluded over herself. Errant found himself smiling at her words, but it fell as he adopted an inquisitive look across his face.

Errant: Uhh…? D-Didn’t you ask me if I wanted to do a collab, and stream this together?

Cookie couldn’t help but look away nervously at being caught before she nervously replied back.

Cookie: I’m super happy you said yes to doing a collab stream with me!

Errant: Alright. So you ready to play, Cookie?

Cookie: Almost, just gotta say to my chat, and we can begin. Is that alright?

Errant: By all means, go ahead.

Cookie: Thank you~!

Cookie swiftly muted herself so, Errant couldn’t hear him as she looked down at her chat feed. Her face was all smiles before the smile fell, and she screamed in terror at her chat.

Cookie: FUUUUUCK! I screwed it up already guys!

~~~Stream Chat~~~

DrukenBailer: Did you?

FallenStar789: It was a slip of the tongue

Haloboy: Youre fine you got this!

Birdinthesky: Can’t wait to see her flirt if this is the best shes got

Candlebrewer0174: Youve got this!

Kittycat1976: You got this!

DavidStermtiger: I believe in you!

~~~~~~

Cookie: You’re right! It’s only just started I can do this! You guys are with me, there’s nothing we can’t do! Such as flirting with my very hot, cool VTuber crush…

Her voice slowly trailed off into a whisper as she grew too embarrassed to continue speaking. Her chat kept showering her in reassuring compliments, and comments on how cute she was. Cookie was soon taken away from her calm stupor as she heard the sound of clicking, and clanking: The sound of a rifles bolt loading a new bullet into the firing chamber. A sound that may have startled many, but it was all to common for, Cookie’s stream since it was her donation sound after all.

Cookie: Hey, SamathaDesires thanks for the ten li…?!

~~~Donation~~~

SamanthaDesires: Get your hands off of my man you skank!

~~~~~~

Cookie’s mouth fell in shock, her, VTuber model clearly showing to everyone the shear shock she felt, and dispear at the rude comment she had just received.

Cookie: …

Cookie: WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO MEAN?!!

~~~~~~

Although he couldn’t hear her, Errant could clearly see, Cookie’s model and the way her body spazzed about. Her facial expressions swapping on the dime to convey a wide range of emotions; from despair, to fear, to hope, to an oddly calm sense of serenity, then to absolute fury.

Errant: …

Errant: She does know I can see her freaking out right?

~~~Stream Chat~~~

TumbleDownTheBay: Not likely

VixenVolpen: Doesn’t look like she does.

Vilvian: What is she freaking out about?

~~~~~~

Errant: Beats me chat. Unless… Are you guys bullying her? Chat be honest; I won’t be mad. Just… disappointed…

~~~Stream Chat~~~

14ever: That’s dad for mad!

Dinonuggies: Sounds like you will be mad

8teenlover: Anyone else think that was hot?

GrendalWizard: Damn hot

~~~~~~

Errant: Great, I can’t tell you lot to behave because some of you will get off to it… peachy. Haa… Is, Cookie ready, or…?

Errant looked back to, Cookie’s stream before doing a double take to look at her in utter bewilderment. HerVTuber model was standing and quickly looking at a writing board, and jotting something down before returning to address her chat.

Errant: When the hell did she pull out that writing board?! And, the devil is she writing; that chicken scratch is so illegible that its like using sign language to speak to a blind man.

~~~ Stream Chat~~~

GriffonTalon: 🤣🤣🤣

VixenVolpen: Oh that’s mean

Falling4Angels: now that’s funny

Allerix: low blow man

~~~~~~

Errant: Alright lets try, and get this…? I-Is she barking at them?

Errant looked to, Cookie to see her shouting at her chat, since he couldn’t hear what she was saying she looked like an angry dog barking at someone walking by her house.

Errant: Okay, lets put a stop to… whatever the hell this is.

Errant quickly reopened the chat so he could hear whatever it was, Cookie was yelling about.

Ccokie: And, that’s why I deserve to be his loving waifu, you…?!

Errant: Cookie?

Cookie: AHHHH?!!

(THUD!)

Errant: …?!

Cookie: Owwww…

Errant’s little interjection to grab, Cookie’s attention, resulted in her screaming her head off, and falling into a heap on the floor, out of camera. The only sound emanating from her now the was pained growing as she laid upon the ground.

Errant looked towards his chat before uttering a single word that would become to define the events of todays stream.

Errant: Whoops…

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #The VTuber

110 notes · View notes

dumbslxtclub · 1 year

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you're on your own, kid | e.m - part twelve

eddie munson x singlemom!reader

summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.

chapter summary: as your relationship with eddie blossoms, the weight of truth reaches it's breaking point.

content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, some canon divergence/au, mentions of death, reader is 20, anxiety, heavy angst, fluff, no use of y/n, slow burn, brief mention of vomiting

word count: 10.8k+

a/n: some of this was inspired was inspired by the poem ‘i wish i were two dogs then i could play with me’ by anne carson. I apologise for the long absence, life has been crazy but I’m very proud of this chapter and I hope you enjoy! sorry in advance for the angst it’s about to get real. as always, shoutout to @dickfics69 for helping me xx

taglist: @lezzy-bennet @harrypotteranna23-blog @reidstea @sashaphantomhive @bexreadstoomuch @audhd-dragonaut @littlepotatobeansworld @ches-86 @tlclick73 @fckyeahlames @gnocchey @astrolockley @sidthedollface2 @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord @eddiesbabe95 @taintedcigs @harry-bowie-mercury @micheledawn1975

↳ one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

Part Twelve: Lovely To Sit Between Comfort and Chaos

Who knew scanning video tape barcodes could be so fun? An inherently arduous task made tolerable thanks to the warming weather, every monotonous motion laced with sun-soaked dopamine. The stale interior of Family Video is washed in a stream of sunlight, the clear sky leaving no interruption for the desired warmth.

The chill of winter has all but dissolved, the new season budding in blossoms dancing in lush trees and children without jackets in the park. But, beneath the surface, something more has begun mingling in your blood. Your veins are laced with the giddy joy of a new beginning, something fresh and exciting. Like the first pages of a good book, popping open a fresh bottle of wine. As with all beginnings, they have their own tonality, an addictive vibrancy that makes them so elusively special. Ebbing with firsts, ‘what ifs’ and unadulterated hope. Leaving you behind the store counter with a schoolgirl grin, completing the most mundane of tasks with enthusiasm. With every video returned into the system, another mountain forms as Robin returns to the front desk. She picks up the two latest additions from the pile, examining them with scrutiny.

“Woof. 9 ½ Weeks AND Body Heat? Someone had a big weekend.” She places them onto the steel rolling shelves, beginning to categorize the sections. Monotonous doesn’t even begin to describe the store’s activities, Robin falling especially victim to their dullness today. “Speaking of, did you get up to anything interesting?”

“Well, Audrey’s learnt how to chuck her bottles across the room. So I guess you could say things were pretty wild around my neck of the woods.”

“Guess I’ll cancel her pee-wee baseball lessons then.” She quips back, busying herself with the tapes.

It’s a funny thing, dishonesty. How it sits on the roof of your stomach, digging its heels into your gut whenever it sees fit. You’ve elected not to tell Robin about your date with Eddie, nor your second kiss, for a myriad of reasons. As your closest friend, you understand that she is just looking out for you, protecting your vulnerable heartspace. With your connection to Eddie growing, complication is bound to follow. And in such a budding stage, it just doesn’t make sense to make a mountain out of a molehill.

When you’d first approached her about your potential date with Andy, she’d responded in a similar manner, driven by protectiveness. But you knew, she could see an innate craving for something more than she could provide. It was only natural. Your new identity was tied to being a mother, full stop. It had been a long time since you felt wanted, attractive, desired. A longing to be wined and dined, treated like so much more than milk-providing breasts on legs. And she wanted you to get back out there, into the real world and away from your comfortable nest of motherhood. You are strong, Robin is well aware of this, fighting the urge to protect you and Audrey from the big bad world. Of course, hindsight is a funny thing, and she should have ripped Andy a new one before he had the chance to do anything stupid. To assume he was capable of being a decent human being for an evening was clearly expecting too much.

But with Eddie, it’s so different. Comfortable in ways you couldn’t articulate, you felt a sense of consistent safety you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Life has just become easier with him around, day to day tasks much more enjoyable in his company. And so, you’ve resolved to just dip your toes into the idea of it evolving into something more. It’s not so much lying as it is withholding the truth.

With the final tape scanned in, you toss it onto the shelf, nearly bowling over Robin’s efforts in the process. She shoots you a warning glare before sighing, glancing melancholically at the clock.

“Ah, all that stands between me and a turkey sandwich is…” She picks up a video at random and glances down at it. “... Xanadu?! Oh my god-”

She drives the cart around the corner, cussing out the poor customer's choice in film. Smiling at her antics, you busy yourself tidying the cluttered desk. Taped to the monitor is a curated collection of film pictures Robin had Jonathan develop. The ultrasound photo still sits in prime position, with a copy of the hospital image below it. Another picture is tacked to the corner of the screen showing you and Robin cuddled up in bed with Audrey sandwiched between you, all in accidentally coordinating shades of blue. You remember that night, Eddie had dropped by after work and lost it laughing at the three of you perched in bed like the grandparents in Willy Wonka, quickly racing to the kitchen to retrieve Jonathan’s camera. Moments immortalized in stillness, energetic happiness radiating out of them.

So lost in the memory, you barely register the sound of the bell above the front door ringing.

“Late return charges got you grinning like that, sweetheart?” Averting your gaze, you watch as your babysitter of choice enters the store. Eddie shoots you a warm smile, one hand gently supporting the black carrier strapped to his chest. Audrey, pacifier in mouth, faces outwards with limbs dangling aimlessly in the confines of the holder. It’s hard to miss the small purple bow clipped to the crown of her head, something that was not part of her ensemble when you dressed her this morning. Like maneuvering his own personal puppet, Eddie picks up her limp wrist to wave it in your direction. The docile baby glances up at the metalhead with curiosity, seeking out the phantom manipulating her arm.

“I can’t rent you R-rated films with a minor present, I’m afraid.” You quip with a smile, pressing your palms into the counter.

“Shit.” Eddie points to the door, backtracking a step and glancing down at Audrey. “Let me just go and tie her up out front real quick, alright?”

“Please don’t tie my daughter up on the street like a dog.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about her.” Eddie grins. “But maybe we should lock in that date before we break out the ropes and collars, hm?”

His comment immediately causes your cheeks to flush, suddenly feeling stifled in your sickly green vest. Images of compromising positions flood your mind, notably featuring the handcuffs strung up in Eddie’s bedroom. An awkward chuckle escapes your throat, Eddie’s smile faltering at the sight.

“I- I mean… fuck, oh-” His hands quickly fly to Audrey’s ears, protecting her from his cursing. “- just, pretend I never said that, okay?”

“Not a chance. You’re never living that one down, Munson.” Your melodious laughter sets Eddie free. “Where’ve you two been today?”

“Y’know, just all of her favorite places. Had to head into the shop to pick up my paycheck, the guys couldn’t get enough of her. ‘Specially Bob, or Ed, I forget- he’s been going on about her for weeks so I thought if she visited he might shut up about it.”

“Using my daughter as bait? Classy.”

“You know me all too well, sweetheart.” He’s quick to catch the pacifier as it tumbles out of Audrey’s mouth, her face screwing up in disgust while he tries to feed it back to her. “Oh, and she met a dog today. It was a beast of a thing, a Rottweiler or something. Don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited, she grabbed its ears and everything. Thought it might bite her head off. It did lick her on the face though, but I suppose that’s good for her immune system.”

“Sounds like you two have been on quite an adventure.” With Audrey now within arms reach, you lean over the counter to give her a kiss on the forehead. Her eyes light up at the sight of you, giving Eddie enough time to quickly shove the pacifier back into her mouth.

“Speaking of which… what are the chances of you getting work off this Friday afternoon?” His voice is hushed, and laced with an edge of the cheekiness you’ve come to adore. With a quick survey around the shop, you inspect to make sure Robin is out of earshot.

“I think I could pull some strings.”

“Good, good. I might have something fun planned for us.” Eddie smiles sheepishly, readjusting the weight of the carrier. “And, as much as I hate to admit it, I think Henderson might finally be ready to go solo with Squid.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, I mean- I didn’t see anyone chewing on the electrical cords so that’s an A in my books.”

“Glad to see you’ve got high standards.” You tease, the grin on Eddie’s face only growing..

“I sure do.”

Quick question, what the hell does one wear on a date? For your outing with Andy, Robin took charge of your wardrobe and crafted an outfit with complete ease. The stakes were lower, you suppose, not overly concerned with your appearance. But for today’s mystery date with Eddie, you’re finding yourself digging into the deepest crevices of your wardrobe for something that screams I’m trying, but not too hard. And, as fate would have it, nothing is jumping out at you. That shirt? Too old. These pants? Don’t fit anymore. Those socks? They’re Audrey’s, not sure how they got in here…

Huffing, you plant yourself on the floor in a nest of unacceptable garments. Your daughter sits peacefully in her bouncing recliner, gaze contently following your every move while she gums at her caterpillars antennae. Grabbing two half decent short-sleeve tops, you hold them up in the baby’s direction.

“What do you think, little miss?” Audrey continues her chomping assault, not at all interested in your predicament. You sigh, tossing the shirts into the pile of mediocrity. “God, it’s easy for you. You look cute in everything.”

Articulating your last word with a tickle, you drink in the way her mouth spreads into a toothless smile. She’s really beginning to grow into her own looks, her features forming beyond the universal blob baby look. Her hair is getting a slight wave to it, still comedically thick on her head. Pouty lips combined with her chubby cheeks give her maximum squishability factor. And as you look down at the mess of clothes covering the floor, you can’t help but cast your mind 16 years into the future. Rummaging through your daughter’s wardrobe in search of the perfect first date outfit, taking her to the mall just outside of town hunting down the dreamiest of prom dresses. It’s all racing by before your eyes. A spiral begins to form if you think about it for too long, so you quickly dedicate yourself to the task at hand.

In the end, you decide to keep it simple. A boxy button-up paired with some acid-wash mom jeans and a leather belt. Your hair is on its last legs before wash-day, so you elect to tame it with a bandana wrapped at the nape of your neck to hide the greasy mess. And Converse to complete the ensemble, because, you know, you don’t have all day. Your babysitter will be here any minute.

Dustin is smilier than usual, if that’s even possible. Grinning from ear to ear, watching you dart across the room with his hands on his hips. Making no effort to help you find your keys, but rather engaged watching your one-man Monty Python sketch.

“All ready for your big date?” The teenager articulates the last word with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. It stops you in your tracks, shooting daggers his way and doing little to wipe his smile away.

“For the last time, it’s not a date!” You lie through your teeth back to him. “I told you, we’re just going to hang out as friends. Adult friends. You know, without the presence of a baby.”

“Sure, sure. So, you got all glammed up for nothing?”

“Oh my god, I am not glammed up!” Glancing down at your outfit, you subtly worry that you may come off as trying too hard.

“I’m just saying…” Dustin throws his hands up defensively, the traces of a smile still playing on the corner of his mouth. “... you do look really nice, though.”

A humble grin makes itself known, abandoning your fruitless search to cross over to the younger boy. With figures like Steve and Eddie in his life, it’s easy to see where Dustin gets his chivalrous manners from.

“Aw, thanks, Dusty.” Flinging your arms around his shoulders, you pull him in for a tight squeeze with the explicit purpose of embarrassing him. The teenager relents quickly, giving your back a firm pat as you hold him to you in a vice grip. Giggling at the way he squirms in your arms, you take a few wobbly steps to keep him locked into place.

Burrowing your face into his mess of curls, you allow yourself to indulge in the comfort of his embrace. He’s always been a cuddly kid, and perhaps you weren’t aware of how much you needed this until now. The pair of you stand there for a beat, allowing the moment to morph from playful teasing into genuine support. Two kids, sharing a history of pain, guilt and loss. Finding solace in one another, the older enveloping the younger and soothing whatever lingering ache burns beneath their collective sorrow. He misses Steve. God, how he misses him.

It seeps through the pores of his fingertips, gently caressing your spine in small circles. As if, if you were to listen closely, beyond the dull hum of the refrigerator and the scattered bird calls outside, you could hear it. The tiniest voice, buried beneath unkempt curls, asking will it ever go away? And you both know the answer. It won’t, but you’ll learn to live with it. Together.

Biting back the swell of tears wetting your tongue, threatening to make themselves known, you refuse to crumble before him. Not today. Not on a day as happy as this.

If it’s true that Eddie has little experience with dating, he sure as hell masks it well. With a handful of daisies clutched in his fist, he’s the epitome of confidence as he raps on your door three times. Claiming the flowers were for Audrey (and definitely not for you), he quickly shuts down Dustin’s insinuations before shuttling you out the front door to his chariot. He always opens the door for you, but the small gesture makes you giddy with girlish excitement. And as soon as he joins you in the dingy interior, positive the pair of you are out of Dustin’s prying eyeline, he leans over the center console to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. The brief contact causes your heart to skip, chapped lips meeting soft skin so casually it’s disarming. A calloused thumb brushing your chin, edging your face in the direction of him, drinking in every imperfection dancing across your skin in the fading afternoon light. Noses lingering inches from one another, wrinkles forming at the edges of his eyes preceding a Cheshire-cat grin.

“Ready for our next adventure?”

With a nod, clicking the gears into drive, the van rolls out of the sun-bathed trailer park and onto the winding roads out of town. It’s easy, the silence that exists between you while you tune out to the sound of whatever metal cassette is shoved into the car’s stereo. Pulling further and further out of the small town, away from the noise. The bustle of life, the judgemental whispers. To some unknown destination, where the two of you will be free to just be.

It comes into view around half an hour into the drive, sticking out like a sore thumb against the lush forest surrounding you. A kitschy, neglected sign with what appears to be a beaver toothily smiling down at you, waving its unoiled, mechanical arm at passers-by. Silly Putter Mini Golf. Pulling into the tiny parking lot, you study the loud canary yellow clubhouse building while Eddie clambours out of the driver’s side. It’s totally cheesy, down to the pathetically flickering lightbulb on the welcome sign. And you couldn’t love it more.

Swinging the passenger side door open, your date extends his ringed hand outward.

“Ready to get your putt on?”

With utmost ease, Eddie sinks the ball on his second shot. You could be mad at his seemingly god-given talent, but it’s hard to stay upset watching his hips sway like that in those dark jeans. Even at a children’s putt-putt course, he’s shown no interest in dressing more family friendly. Under your breath, you mutter praise to the inventor of muscle tank tops, now privy to the way his sinewy muscles flex with each stroke of the golf club. Occasionally, the handle of the club would clink against his wallet chain draped out of his pocket, drawing your attention back to his narrow hips. As far as you were concerned, you were a winner tonight, regardless of the scores.

“Yes! Gotta catch up, sweetheart. I’m beating you by…” He pulls the small scorecard out of his back pocket and grins. “... five points.”

Shooting a distrusting look in his direction, you pace to meet him on the prickly astroturf.

“What?! I thought you said it was three?”

Snatching the page away, Eddie holds it tauntingly above your head. He swings it around like a kite, mocking your stature while the only other family here passes by you with milkshakes in hand.

“That was before you hit the windmill twice on the last hole. Bit embarrassing, if you ask me.” He pokes, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. “Tell you what. You make this in less than two shots, I’ll call it even. Even throw in some fries afterwards, as a sign of good showmanship.”

A competitive energy charges through your body, a daring smirk playing on your face. Through your lashes, you challenge the metalhead’s smug demeanor, flirting with the notion of friendly competition.

“Deal.”

With a newly confident stride, you make your way to the fluorescent pink tee you’d picked out for yourself, placing the equally obnoxious green ball atop it. It’s a fairly easy set up, two small hills creating a valley that would lead you straight to the hole. A mechanical crocodile snaps out of the wall sporadically, directly in line to your goal, hinges chomping at nothing. You assume the stance, needing to bend over slightly to accommodate the child-sized putter you were gripping. The crocodile seems to be popping out every five seconds, and so you brace yourself until it begins its certain retreat. Drawing your putter back, you hear it click against the ball, knowing immediately you overshot it. The ball rolls over one of the bumps in the turf, into a direct line with the crocodiles elongated snout, sending it back in your direction with a pathetic tumble.

“Shit.” You groan, attempting to tune out the smug laughter behind you. A tattooed arm comes into view over your left shoulder, pointing to the red flag sticking out of the ground.

“The holes over there, sweetheart.” Eddie quips matter-of-factly.

“Gee, thanks. What would I do without you?” Shooting daggers at your entirely too-smug date, you elbow him in the ribs before setting off in the direction of the ball. It seems your jab did little to quell Eddie’s laughter, who quickly catches up to you.

“Think you need to work on your form.”

“There’s a form needed for mini-golf?”

“Mhm, form I possess by the bucketful.” God, he’s a smug little shit sometimes.

Incredulous, you welcome his challenge with wide-open arms. “Alright then, genius. Enlighten me. Show me how it's done.”

Eyebrows disappearing into his messy bangs, Eddie’s doe eyes twinkle with boyish mischief, a prominent dimple playing deep into his cheek.

“Here.” Placing his hands on your shoulders, he maneuvers you in the direction of your goal, now partially obstructed by the protruding crocodile snout. “Line ‘er up.”

He angles himself around you, back pressed to abdomen, warmth emanating from the thin cotton of his shirt against yours. His feet shuffle to either side of yours, boxing you into his cradling hold. Snaking his bare arms along yours, starting at your elbow, each finger wrapping gently around the girth of your forearm. He lingers a moment too long, you don’t complain. Slowly working his way down to your wrists, locking his digits around the boney flesh. Breath on the nape of your neck, adrenaline pumping too fast for you to look anywhere but the lime-green golf ball at your feet.

“That’s it…” His chest rumbles against your ribcage, coaxing vibrations of praise causing your fingertips to go numb. “Nice and gentle, okay?”

One slow nod is all you manage, feeling his gaze burning into your profile. You watch as the rusting reptile makes itself known against the fake grass, gaping jaws ready to foil your next putt. As it begins its retreat, you take a deep inhale, feeling your ribs expand against the comfort of Eddie’s sternum.

“Go.” Barely a whisper is required, his lips so close to your ear you can practically feel their plush sanctuary. In tandem, Eddie gently pulls your wrists sideways before encouraging you forward with perfect momentum. Metal meets plastic with a firm thud, propelling the ball forward. It rolls, and a collective breath is held. As if the future of the world hinges on this single stroke. Picking up sand and debris along the way, the bright sphere travels across the turf towards its goal. It hits the lip of the hole before tumbling in with a clatter, sending your arms skyward in celebration as you discard the putter.

“Yes!” Gleaming with joy, you spin on your heels to press a firm finger into Eddie’s chest. “In your smug, stupid face, Muns-”

Victory is swiftly cut short as an arm wraps around your hip, grip settling in the groove of your waist. You slot perfectly into the crook of his lean body, softness meeting strength entirely channeled into closing the gap between you. The sheer momentum of it knocks a sigh loose from your chest, clinging to the anchor of his chest with bunched fists entangled in his shirt. His free hand nestles beneath your chin, a firm thumb pressing and guiding your eyeline up to his. Eddie shines with pride. Smiling from ear to ear, shaking his head at your antics with pure amusement, feeling the contagion of your joy.

Angling your chin slightly higher, Eddie presses his lips down onto yours with fervor. A blend of your two previous encounters, it’s passionate yet careful, a marriage of wanton desire and delicate care. You lean into it, drawing him closer by the cloth adorning his torso, chasing the taste of his kiss. As if to commit it to memory, to learn how it sits in your mouth and if the needy aftertaste ever dissipates. Muscles not just for decoration, but with the greater use of keeping you pressed intimately to his body. His thumb brushes against the groove of your jawline, dancing across the expanse of skin he is yet to be acquainted with. But there will be time for that later. Eddie is the one to pull away, a proud grin still plastered on his face.

“Good job, sweetheart. Ready for your prize?”

Food always tastes better when someone else is paying for it. The fries have the perfect crunch to them, the outer a golden brown against the fluffy white potato now filling your mouth rapidly. Eddie claims that they only came in a package deal with two cans of soda, but you have an inkling he may be lying about that. Your date watches as you shove the greasy food into your mouth, taking a long sip of his Coke.

“Looks like you’re enjoying your winnings over there.”

“Mmm-“ You mumble through a mouthful of starch. “Feels like there’s a birthday party in my mouth.”

Eddie’s brows furrow with amusement at your choice of words, shaking his mane of curls.

“Shit, actually, there’s something I don’t know about you. When is your birthday?”

Swallowing the thick mass of carbs, you slyly redirect your gaze to the quickly-emptying plastic basket before you, picking at a few deep-fried crumbs.

“Next week…” You pray to the heavens your admission was mumbled low enough for Eddie to catch it as some ambiguous month in the distant future. But it seems the years of heavy metal assaulting his ear drums has done little to subdue his sense of hearing.

“Next week?!” Theatrically, Eddie slams his soda down on the picnic table, likely taking off some of the tragic peeling paint in the process. He looks positively incredulous, brows raised to maximum height behind his bangs. “And you’ve been keeping this a secret, why?”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret! I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal-“

“Not that big of a-“ Fingers splayed on the periwinkle blue wood, he braces himself forward with a deep inhale. “Sweetheart, now I’m gonna have to plan a big bash in less than a week. How could you do this to me?”

As if it’s the biggest inconvenience he’s ever encountered. Chuckling nervously, you wave your hands in a flurry before his deadpan expression.

“Oh no, absolutely not. Uh-uh, not happening.”

“But-”

“Eddie.” Your tone is firm, gaze boring into his. “I’m turning twenty, it’s not even an exciting number. Plus, I have a baby, in case you forgot. Not sure how many nightclubs would let the pair of us in. If it means that much to you, I’ll have you and some of the kids over for a movie. That’s my limit, though.”

Eddie huffs, resolving himself to defeat. “Fine. No strippers, then.”

“Oh, now that you mention strippers…” A grin takes over your face as you waggle a fry in his face, likely sending salt fragments onto Eddie’s shirt. Before you can bring it to your awaiting mouth, he swats the perfectly good fast food out of your hand, sending it catapulting to the ground for some poor, underpaid teenager to clean up later.

“Party in your mouth, huh?” He quips, stealing the larger of the two potato sticks stuck to the paper lining the basket. He pops it into his mouth with a grin, shooting you a suggestive look.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

The energy between the two of you is so, so easy. You sip your cool soda, indulging in the sugary carbonation clinging to your teeth. Eddie does the same, studying a terribly constructed pyramid situated on one of the holes. No pressure to speak, or not speak, just basking in the glow of one another’s company. The air is cool under the downlights, a mild spring evening setting the scene for what a true date night should look like.

“I’ve gotta ask-” You begin through a mouthful of food, somewhat unceremoniously. “- how’d you get so good at mini golf? I just wouldn’t expect you to be the kind of guy to spend his free time at a place like this.”

“Ooft, judging a book by its cover, are we?” Eddie places his drink back on the picnic table, grinning beneath the fluorescent snack bar sign.

“Oh, never. Heavy metal and putt-putt go hand in hand, as far as I’m concerned.”

Eddie shakes his head, grinning while he peers down at the condensation accumulating on the metal can.

“I, uh- I used to bring Dustin out here.”

“Dustin? Really?”

“Yep.” There’s a loaded silence between the pair of you, something that isn’t uncommon as you exchange stories of your past. “After, um- y’know, everything happened. He kind of… shut down. A bit like you did, for a while. Didn’t want to play DnD, or see anybody, really. So this one day, I just drove over to his place and dragged him out of bed saying ‘C’mon, butthead. I’m taking you outta town’. He kicked up a bit of a fuss, but I just sort of army-marched him out the front door. We drove around for a while, not really talking and stumbled on this place. He shot me that stupid grin of his for the first time in forever, so we came in. It sort of became a weekly thing after that, and I hate to admit that I actually enjoyed it after a while.”

Swirling a fry around in too much ketchup, your meal is all but forgotten as you find yourself enthralled by Eddie’s recollection. That all too familiar pang of sadness returns, regret manifesting quickly in your body. You wish you were there for Dustin. You should have been. You wish you were stronger earlier, able to provide him with the care he so desperately needed. In the past few months, you’ve watched the teenager really step up, busying himself with baby books in order to be the best ‘uncle’ he could be. He’s a close second behind Eddie when it comes to making Audrey smile, lapping up every second he gets with her. God, Steve would be so proud of him.

“He’s a good kid, even if he’s an annoying little shit sometimes. And Steve…” His thought trails off, running his finger around the edge of the soda can. “... Steve was good for him. Gave him someone to look up to, a role model sort-of. Almost like a big brother, I guess. So I didn’t mind running around a shitty mini-golf course with a creepy beaver sign if it made him happy.”

Abandoning your meal, you reach across the table to take Eddie’s hand in yours. The tips of his fingers are cold from the refrigerated beverage, and you wrap your palm around the icy skin with warm reassurance.

“You’re a good man, Eddie.”

Eddie’s lips curve into the most imperceptible smile, humble and felt almost entirely inward. For a fleeting second, he wonders if that could be true.

Eddie was meant to drive you straight home. The roads were quiet at this time of night, no traffic bar the occasional truck making its way in the opposite direction of the small town he unfortunately called home. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this full. Not literally, of course, given you guzzled down the majority of hot food before he had a chance to get to it. But it didn’t matter, not the slightest.

He felt proud.

Proud while he watched you dig through the bucket of tees, looking for the perfect Barbie pink one that wasn’t chipped or dirty. Proud of his excellent golfing form, thankful for all the practice he’d gotten through restless evenings with Henderson. Proud of the way you jumped up and down, hands raised to the heavens as you sank your shot in half the time it had taken you on every other hole. Proud of how he scooped you into his arms, like every cheesy rom-com he’d had the displeasure of watching. Proud of the part he had to play in your happiness. Proud to be seen with you.

He was meant to drive you straight home.

He had every intention of doing so.

Satiated with pride, he could resolve to spend the remainder of his evening grinning stupidly to himself in the isolation of his room. The humble home across the trailer park suddenly feels closer, anyway. Until, your hand snaked its way across the center console onto his thigh, your touch feather light but the weight heavy. For a brief moment, he wonders if you reached for something but overshot, a simple mistake. And then, you linger. Fingernails scratching the course denim clinging to his legs, shockwaves sent down his skin with every delicate stroke. Absent-minded. Loaded.

He knew the stakes had just been raised.

The two of you had been close like this dozens of times before, particularly in your pregnancy. Eddie never saw the need for one of those pregnancy pillows advertised on late-night infomercials, when you apparently saw him as the perfect substitute. Back then, those exchanges meant almost nothing. A tiny back scratch here and there, drawing small circles on your forearm while you dozed off with your entire body weight pressed to his shoulder. Thoughtless interactions, designed purely to comfort and set you at ease. The familiarity that has perhaps always existed between the pair of you, now morphing into something new.

Thumb smoothing the faded-black material, tiny rotations etched over and over.

Hypnotic.

The bravery that overtook him was phantom, ghostly desire edging his knee ever so slightly further in your direction. As if to say please, don’t stop. I’m right here. His eyes remain firmly locked onto the dark road, using only the occasional streetlight to guide his path. Besides, he doesn’t need to look at you to feel your gaze on his cheek. Not that he could bring himself to, if he tried. He wonders if he blacked out earlier. Got hit in the head with a rogue club and passed out, ascending to a heaven in which he would be fortunate enough to experience such a sensation. Heart pounding in his chest, he lets out an unsteady exhale as your fingers snake deeper into the groove, caressing at more sensitive flesh. Inward, where the skin is far more sensitive.

Eddie isn’t a greedy man.

Until he is.

“Baby…” The foreign pet name slips out as a moan, barely perceivable beneath the soft hum of the cassette’s tune filling the car at a low volume. Somehow, in those two syllables alone, he crosses a line. Bares his soul to the wolves, knowing well the potential ramifications, the bloodshed that follows vulnerability.

The digging of your fingernails into the meaty flesh at his utterance is his breaking point. The green light he sought out. With cautious fervourency, he pulls off the road quickly, wheels clattering along the asphalt excuse for a truck stop. The car is quickly clicked into park before the metalhead can cognise it, tearing the constricting seatbelt off his body. Your hand never leaves its spot.

Turning to you, wide-eyed with want, he pauses. Gives himself whiplash from the flurry of activity leading to the sudden stillness. It’s intrinsic, no need for words anymore. Redundant wastes of breath.

His lungs hitch, adrenaline pulsing in the tips of his fingers.

Can we?

Lips parted ever so slightly, a rise of your chest and dazed fluttering of eyelids answers.

Yes.

It’s not clear who lunges first. What is clear is how your bodies instinctively shape around one another, quick to absolve the space between you. Lips collide with lips, desperately seeking respite. Wanton moans are pulled effortlessly, fistfuls of hair tangled in clammy fingers drawing the two of you impossibly close. Imperfect fumblings as shirts are clutched desperately, fueling the fire burning in the pits of Eddie’s stomach. The pace is entirely unsteady, soft brushes bleeding into firm tugs of teeth piercing tender flesh with just the right amount of force. Embarrassing, unadulterated need at the forefront of every motion, and neither of you cared. God, it’s almost perverse. How Eddie corrupts something so soft, so sweet, with every fevered kiss. Like he’s tainting you with his taste, as if he could lap enough of you up and absolve his unworthiness. The likelihood of that working is slim, but god damn Eddie is willing to try.

It’s still not enough.

The plastic console separating you is driving him mad. He needs to be able to grab, clutch, caress every square inch of you with no obstructions. You make him bold.

Bold enough to slip his wandering hand beneath your far thigh, the smallest hithering motion enough to feel the weight shift above his palm. Unceremoniously, you clamber over the glove box after unclipping your seatbelt, haphazardly swinging your foot into the horn. The beep echoes through the isolated rest stop, a mumbled apology being quickly swallowed by Eddie’s lips. Blindly guided, he directs your knees to either side of his hips, showing no qualms with the limited driver’s side legroom. His hands find your hips, tentatively hovering above his lap, shaky thighs taking the brunt of your weight. With small, caressing circles of your hip bone, he soothes you as he always has. Encourages you to share the pressure, begging to be the bearer of it. No wrong answer, only whatever you’re comfortable with. Perfect the way you are.

Ringed fingers press gently into the small of your waist, drawing you closer still to his body. This seems to encourage you to relent to your tiring muscles, finding solace on Eddie’s tense thighs. A safe distance, but so close to danger. To unbridled want. Neither of you care.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as you speckle kisses along his cheek, dancing down his jawline and finding sanctuary on his neck. Nipping slightly at his pulse point, he can’t help but squeeze a bit tighter. Relishing in your exploration, mentally mumbling Hail Mary’s for his good deeds from past lives that lead him to this euphoria. A gasp escapes his throat as you latch onto a particularly sensitive spot, causing his hands to seek refuge on the meat of your hips. He squeezes, eliciting a similar wanton moan that vibrates against his stubbled skin.

“Is- is this good?” A sentence loaded with various meanings tumbles out, his grip loosening slightly.

“Mmm.” You murmur, tracing the familiar trail back along his jaw and to his aching lips. “So good. So good to me, always.”

A knot forms in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. So good. So good. For you. That’s all he’s ever wanted to be. It fucking underscores every day, trying to do right by you. Constantly trying. He lives for it. For the smiles, the exhales of safety, the reassurance, the comfort…

It’s gotten him more hooked than a drug ever could.

So why.

Why can’t he accept it?

The praise, the love, everything you dish out effortlessly. But to want and to deserve are very different things, the latter being something that Eddie factually knows he is not entitled to.

It returns, a tidal wave of despair crashing over his heart, encasing it in a riptide of emotional debris and darkness. The taunting ticking of the second hand that haunts him constantly, the grip on his happiness slipping…

“Hey.” He gasps out, ringed fingers grazing your cheek as he pulls away. So close still he can see the flushed-red outline of your lips, the blissed out expression in your eyes quickly morphing to concern.

“Shit, you okay?” You pull back, brushing a loose curl out of the frame of his face.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” A stabilizing breath does little to quell the erratic beating of his heart. “Just- maybe we should, like, take things a bit slower? I- I just don’t want all this to be too much, too fast.”

Brows furrowing slightly, it’s hard to miss the minute disappointment reflected across your face.

“Oh. No, yeah, of course.” Letting out an awkward chuckle, your unoccupied hands take to fidgeting with your now-loose blouse. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get carried away…”

“No, no-” Eddie reassures, a smile growing on his sore lips despite the gnawing ache in his chest. “Fuck, you were- it was perfect.”

A bashful grin cuts through the nerves etched into your skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” God, you make him too bold. Cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he dips forward to steal another miss from you. “Just want to do things right. Be a gentleman and all that.”

“You? A gentleman? Since when?” You poke.

“Since always.” The tone returns to easy as always, if not charged with a certain afterglow of electricity.

“So, what’s the next step in the courting ritual then?”

“Dunno. Guess I’ll have to pull off a grand gesture of some kind.”

Thursday afternoon, counting down the minutes until the clock strikes 5pm and frees you from this grind. Happy fucking birthday to you.

Robin has been fussing over you non-stop for the past 24 hours. Apparently, a little birdie told her about your upcoming birthday (something you’d diligently kept private), sending her into a frenzy. She insisted on at least taking you out for dinner to celebrate your birthday at Benny’s, and practically stuffed her version of appropriate birthday attire into a duffle bag this morning for you to change into post-shift. In all her festive glory, she returned from her lunch break with a pink-frosting covered cupcake and tried to involve no less than three customers in a group rendition of Happy Birthday that was less than successful. And despite the unwarranted theatrics, you can’t deny your gratitude. Seeing how she dotes on you, dedicating her every movement that day to your happiness. And frankly, it’s not dissimilar to every other day. The love, the care that the two of you feel for eachother simply heightened for your first day of your twenties. Luck has never been a word you’d use to describe your life, but today, it feels fitting.

Keith has been goaded into closing the shop up solo tonight, Robin sparing no detail of the utmost importance to this diner dinner. She’d also arranged for Eddie to bring Audrey along, clocking in around 12 total hours of unpaid babysitting and a bushel of brownie points. Then, once the grown-ups have hung out, some of the younger kids will bike to the trailer park for a late-night movie. Spending the remaining hours of your birthday with everyone you love.

The small bathroom cubicle adjoining the workroom is cluttered with makeup and clothes, the two of you primping yourself in privacy. Tonight’s outfit of choice appears to be a band tee, tied at the waist with a flowing maxi-skirt, clashing in your mind but makes sense to Robin, apparently. To level the playing field, she dug out some of your nicer boots for the occasion. Internally, you worry for Audrey, and how it’ll be once Robin realizes she has two life-sized Barbie dolls to dress up. But secretly, you like it. It feels very you, whatever that means now. Comfort meets expression, an identity crafted beyond Mom.

Smiling at yourself through the rusty bathroom mirror, Robin swipes on her mascara.

“How do you feel? Older and wiser yet?” Robin asks, eyes bugged out in concentration.

“More of the former, I’d say.” You chuckle.

“What about the outfit? I felt pretty proud of it, very rocker-chic meets fairy princess.”

“It’s great, Rob. All of it.” Lips pursing together in an emotional smile, you drink in the image before you. You look your age. No dark circles or fine lines present, concealed under just the right amount of makeup. Hair just the way you like it, not confined to a three-day-old ponytail. You recognise her, from another life. The girl you used to be. And she’s so happy to see you.

Robin shoves the mascara tube into her tote bag, throwing it over her shoulder. “Ready to hit the road?”

With a nod, you hold the door open for her, the imposing fluorescents of the video store coming back into view.

“Oh, nearly forgot. We’ve gotta make a pit stop along the way, if that’s alright with you?” Following her trail, the two of you burst out the front doors and into the brisk evening towards your Pinto.

“Sure.” You reply. “Just lead the way.”

“Robin, where the hell are we?” Glancing around one of the seedier streets of Hawkins, you shrug your handbag a little closer under your armpit and remind yourself that you did, in fact, lock your car. It’s fairly innocuous, an assortment of goods shops and a vintage record store, but you’ve never ventured this far into the heartland. Robin is a few paces before you, studying the signs of various closed businesses along the road. Her face lights up as you approach one particular building.

“Bada-boom.” She announces with a proud grin, stopping in front of a large, black building. The paint is sun-faded, lined with scratched-off band posters graffitied with lewd scribbles. Against the dark sky, your only indication of the name etched into the doorway awning comes in the form of a passing car blaring its lights.

“The Hideout?” It rang a bell, yet you could not work out for the life of you what the two of you were doing here. “Dude, is this a nightclub? It’s a Thursday!”

“Not exactly…” Her brazen smile makes you slightly nervous. “More of a live music venue. I’ve just gotta pick something up from here, then we’ll be off to dinner. ‘Kay?”

“Alright, maybe I’ll just wait outside-” “No!” Robin quickly clears her throat. “I mean- I’m not leaving you out here on these mean street all alone without me to protect you.”

Shooting you a bright smile, you have to take at face value that she’s being entirely serious right now. Locking her arm through yours, she urges your unwilling feet further to the entrance.

“Is it even-” Answering your half-finished question, Robin pushes open the door to the venue, the interior pitch-black. “Are we even allowed to be here?”

“Yes, dingus! Just c’mon…” Once again, you’re placing literal blind faith into your closest friend. She might as well have tied Eddie’s bandana over your eyes as she did at Christmas, nothing but the slightly sticky floor beneath you to guide you forwards into oblivion. Her arm is your liferaft, swimming through pitch-black waters towards god knows what. In the distance, you hear a strange scuffling of feet, not belonging to either you or your co-worker. It sends chills down your spine, suddenly feeling very out of your depth. It’s disorienting, and totally alien.

“Seriously, Robin. Can we-” Your hushed tone is directed to the girl beside you, who stops in her tracks. You plant yourself beside her, the strangest feeling of being able to make a figure out through the void before you. A fleeting moment of movement, another shuffle of shoes on tacky wood ground.

And in the flash of an eye, brightness burns your retinas, momentarily blinding you. It forces you to squint, a desperate attempt to identify these unfamiliar surroundings. A spotlight of sorts bears down on you before Robin quickly releases you from her vice grip and jumps to the side. But as one sense is returned, another is quickly abused, a raucous sound brutalizing your eardrums.

“Surprise!” Numerous voices call out at the top of their voices, unable to be individually dissected amongst the barrage of confetti poppers bursting into the sky. As your eyes grow accustomed to the warm spotlights around the venue, you make out familiar shapes. A mess of scruffy curls buried beneath a baseball cap. Two young boys with arms slung around one another jumping up and down, perfectly manicured bangs flinging haphazardly. The flash of a camera you’d borrowed months ago. There’s only a few of them, but their energy fills the space tenfold.

And, at the center, you see a lean figure with a Kirk Hamlett haircut raise a squirming lump high above his head, not unlike a certain Disney movie that wouldn’t come out for another good eight or so years. Eddie, in what can only be described as his best cut-off band tee, proudly holds Audrey high above the group, her chunky legs bunched up to her body as she looks around entirely confused. As the last syllable of their celebration dies off, as if on cue, Audrey’s face screws up in a dramatic pout, a loud cry echoing through the venue at a volume the others only could hope to have achieved. Eddie’s face quickly transforms to worry, eyes squinting with embarrassment.

“Oh, fu-” Eddie quickly lowers her, cradling her head towards his collarbone. “Shit, didn’t mean to scare you, Squid.”

Shushing her and pacing a step towards you, he bounces your baby from side to side. Her cries begin to lull, her fist tucked tightly at his clavicle for emotional support. Likely giving his neck a few scratches from her razor-sharp fingernails, she clings to the neckline of his shirt like a spider monkey, pulling it down with a subdued whimper and revealing one of his tattoos.

“Eddie? What-” You’re stunned. Shell-shocked from the sudden onslaught of sensation and attention, closing the space between you and the metalhead.

“How’s this for a grand gesture?” Spinning on his heel, Dustin rushes over to present a frosting-covered monstrosity on the bar. The icing is baby pink, with large globs that could be letters on top, with a handful of mismatched candles shoved into the floury concoction.

“Ta-da!” The younger boy grins, fixing one of the especially lop-sided candles. “Sorry it’s nothing special, I didn’t have much time to work on it…”

“You- you threw me a birthday party?” You ask, wide-eyed to Eddie.

“Ah-” He raises a finger, readjusting the subdued baby in his arms. “A surprise birthday party. In case you missed the keyword over the little hellraiser's scene-stealing cry.”

That familiar feeling returns. Overwhelmed by love and eyes solely on you. A small pile of presents sits on one of the bar tables, along with a few cards. Far more modest than the endowment you received from the group months earlier. Smiling faces, slightly tentative as they attempt to interpret your expression. But that thumping in your chest is not from anxiety this time. It’s from an overflowing sense of gratitude.

A teary smile takes over your face, rushing to embrace Eddie and Audrey in a tight bear hug. The baby nestled between you burbles and squirms, and you raise your lips to the shell of Eddie’s ear to whisper a heartfelt “thank-you”.

The party is in full swing. Of the faces huddled in groups around the intimate venue, you initially only recognise half of them. Mike, Lucas and Will order root beer from the bar under Eddie’s strict supervision, not wanting any wasted minors on his track record. Dustin and Erica are engaged in a heated conversation with a few older boys, each of them wearing shirts printed with the name Corroded Coffin. You’d only crossed paths with them a handful of times at campaign nights, but they shared Eddie’s welcoming nature, trying to involve you in their conversation about elves or something. Nancy and Robin were trying to liven up the dance floor, which mostly involved Nancy swaying to the beat and Robin putting on a full-scale musical number around her. With Audrey not in the arms of any of her allocated babysitter’s arms, there was only one place left to search. Jonathan was taking a picture of the group in the adjacent booth, El and Max grinning either side of an unfamiliar face. His long, dark hair proved most entertaining for the infant on his lap, a glazed-over expression dancing in his red-rimmed eyes.

“Woah, woah! That’s not for playing with, little dudette. Try this instead, I know it keeps me entertained.” From his Hawaiian shirt pocket, he pulls out a small set of keys, passing them to Audrey’s greedy fingers. She squeals, flinging the keys up and down in delight.

“God, she’s so cute.” El gushes, smoothing her pint-sized overalls over her legs.

“I know, right. She looks so much like Steve, it’s insane.” Max affirms. “Alright, Argyle. Quit hogging her.”

The redhead scoops her hands around Audrey’s waist, bringing her up to eye level with a cooing expression.

“You know they’re born without kneecaps? How gnarly is that?” Argyle states, turning to El with complete sincerity.

“No way that’s true.” Max shoots the older boy a signature dead-pan look, readjusting Audrey in her arms, who is now getting a good amount of drool on the keychain.

“Swear on my life! I read it somewhere, they’re born without propellers.”

“You mean patellas?” El corrects.

“Yeah, that’s the one! Or maybe it’s dogs I’m thinking of…”

It’s beautiful, watching over your own party as a voyeur. An event that has brought together all of the closest people in your life, the common thread being you. It makes you sick with love.

“How’re you enjoying the event, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice reaches you before he does, a glass of tan-colored liquid in hand.

“It’s perfect, really.” You reply with a grin. “All that’s missing are the Jell-o shots.”

“Gonna treat us to another Flashdance number?” Cheeks flushing over his statement, you stammer a response.

“How- how did you…”

“Don’t think I’d forget a spectacle like that.” He winks, a devilish grin spread across his lips. “Livened up that night’s dealings, that’s for sure.”

It’s strange, remembering a time before this. A time when Eddie was just a face in the crowd, Steve the undisputed King of Hawkins, and you with no clue what the coming years held in store. It feels like a lifetime ago, and simultaneously feels like an eternity you’ve spent with this eclectic family by your side.

“Getting on the beers tonight, Munson?” You tap a nail against the edge of his glass teasingly.

“Nah, confiscated Henderson’s root beer for my own selfish purposes.”

“You’re not gonna have a celebratory drink with me tonight?” Eddie shakes his head.

“Don’t think so, sweetheart. Sounds a bit cliche, but I feel weird drinking around Squid. Just don’t want to be the kind of guy who does that around a baby, makes me feel like my dad or something.”

You swear your heart swells to three times its normal size. He might be the most considerate man you’ve ever met.

“Besides…” Eddie continues, pointing to the Hellfire boys. “... don’t want to be a mess on stage for the grand finale of the night.”

You gasp, mock excitement written all over your expression. “Strippers?!”

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Maybe later, if you ask nicely.”

He did it.

Eddie pulled it off. From the house-shaking rendition of Happy Birthday, to the (in his humble opinion) absolutely killer set courtesy of Corroded Coffin, to shuttling the younger kids home before the bar opened to the public. He fucking did it. He did good.

The dingy bar is now filled with the usual patrons, the bouncers not bothering to check the ID’s of the occupants inside who could pass for being over 21. Last he saw you, you were dancing arm in arm with Robin and Nancy, screaming Everybody Wants to Rule The World at the top of your lungs. He’d never seen you so free, so vibrant. Moving like no one was watching, twirling and laughing and holding your friends. Just as you deserved to be. A twenty-year-old for one night, before another 364 days devoted to being a mom.

The cool breeze is welcoming, soothing his warm skin under the clear night sky. Stars swimming in the endless expanse of night, delicate kisses of light kissing the pitch-black veil. He can breathe. It used to be suffocating, looking up at the infinite nothing. It would clog Eddie’s throat, choking him in bleak nothingness. Wrap him in a coat of terror, a black mirror designed to play back every fateful mistake of his miserable life. Now, it welcomes him. And he isn’t afraid to embrace it. Baby steps, learning to love the dark parts of his being.

In his arms, he rocks Squid back and forth gently. She’s long since dozed off, the burden of being the life of the party clearly hung too heavy on her tiny shoulders. On her ears sit the smallest fluffy earmuffs, an investment courtesy of Dustin just for tonight. She was the best little groupie he could have asked for. At one point, Robin brought her onstage and placed her feet on the ground, bopping her up and down to the music. The crowd roared, and she giggled and squealed like she was the headliner act. Might have shown the band up, honestly. Eddie didn’t mind.

He’s getting better at stealing moments with her. Giving into his need to dote on her unabashedly. He could stare at her for a lifetime, and that wouldn’t be enough. He needs to imprint in his mind the way her eyelids flutter when she sleeps, commit to memory the O-shape of her mouth when she lets out a sleepy yawn. He wants to record her laugh, keep it forever. He wants every waking second to be dedicated to her.

“Have a good night, Squid?” He mumbles, lightly stroking the bridge of her nose. “Not bad for your first party, eh? Just you wait until your birthday. All of this will look like child’s play.”

Squid wriggles restlessly, burrowing into Eddie’s chest. Against his sternum, he can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath, the tiny grunts of sleep deep in her lungs. It makes him grin like a mad-man.

“Y’know, I’m gonna let you in on a secret.” He readjusts her carefully in his arms, hushing his tone slightly. “I think- I think you and your mom are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

His words hang heavy in the still air, the empty alleyway the only recipient to his confession.

“Can you believe I was scared of you? Of these tiny hands-” He tickles her palm with his pointer finger, the baby clasping around it instinctually with unbridled strength. “- and these little feet. God, I’m pretty stupid, aren’t I? You can tell me, I won’t be offended. But, I’ll tell you something, just between you and me. There are much scarier things out there. And I’m not talking about monsters or alternate dimensions, although I do promise to protect you from that, cross my heart.” He raises his free hand to his heart, as if the sleeping infant would know any different.

“In this big, bad world, I think the scariest thing is to be alone. And I’m gonna make sure you never feel that way, if I can help it.”

Eddie is rambling, word vomit spilling past his lips faster than he can contain it. No scapegoat of weed or alcohol to blame his honesty on. He gently rocks Squid back and forth, the motion soothing both of them.

“Y’know, I know you’re not mine. But-” Teeth bite down on the inside of his cheek, fingers pulling down her overalls. “- I dunno, it kinda feels like you’re mine in my heart.”

With a deep exhale, Eddie allows his honesty to wash over him in all its brutal glory. Knee-buckingly raw, and he leans into it, for once. Allows the love to pump through his veins with every beat of his cynical heart, waking up parts of him he thought were gone for good. But the moment of solitude doesn’t last long before Robin comes barreling out of the back door, almost crashing into the nearby trash cans.

“Shit, sorry. Did I wake her?” She apologizes, sloshing her half-finished gin and tonic onto the pavement.

“Nah, you’re in luck. Squid’s out like a light.” He pulls out another milk crate, beckoning the tipsy liability over. “Having fun in there?”

“Yeah, yeah- I am.” It’s a half thought, words dancing on the tip of her tongue not ready to be spoken yet. “The kids get home alright?”

“Eventually, had to drag most of them out by the end. Henderson wanted to hide in the bathroom and then ‘blend in with the older crowd’.”

“Wonder where he learnt that one from.” Robin smiles, nudging the metalhead.

“Hey, don’t look at me. Wasn’t my doing, for once…”

“Mmm…” She replies, taking a swig of her mixed spirit. Staring down at the lime slice, she swishes the glass around as if deep in thought. Glazed eyes laced with melancholy, radiating off her being.

“Something on your mind?” Eddie asks, angling his body more in her direction.

Robin’s mouth screws up as if she’s tasted something bitter, unable to bring her gaze to meet the man before her. But he doesn’t need to look her in the eyes to see the tears swelling on her waterline, quivering with her next sentence.

“We have to tell her…” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, suppressed anxiety trickling in with every syllable.

Eddie feels his blood run cold, the familiar pang of dread hanging low in his stomach. He shakes his head defiantly.

“Not tonight, Rob. Please…” The plea is firm, fraying at the edges. Not ready to face the inevitable.

“No, no. Not tonight, but it needs to be soon.”

“Can we please not do this right now?” Eddie doesn’t mean to be so forceful with his words, but fear is a powerful thing. It poisons his blood, pushed further through his system with every erratic beat of his heart.

Robin’s eyes continue to well up with stinging tears, her grip on the glass tightening. “The guilt is eating me alive, Eddie. I just… I don’t know how to do it.”

Eddie sighs, desperate to keep what little control he possesses.

“We need to do it the right way, got it? You, me, Henderson and her. We can all sit down and…” Robin runs her hand through her hair with exasperation at Eddie’s suggestion. Even the gentlest of options sounds like a monumental task. “Just give it a bit more time…”

“There is no more time!” She retorts, her volume loud enough for her to quickly glance down at the sleeping baby to make sure she didn’t wake her.

Eddie stands up, readjusting Squid in his arms. He’s doing his best to stay calm, and not let the inevitable spiral begin, a fruitless battle. “I’m not doing this right now, okay?”

The liquid courage is working wonders on Robin right now, standing up to face the metalhead eye-to-eye. “Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way, Eddie. You know as well as I do that she has a right to know.”

Eddie’s mouth is open and ready to voice another stern reply, when it’s interrupted by a meek voice behind him. The soft tone does little to soothe the ache growing in his abdomen, not daring to look over his shoulder at the source.

“I have a right to know what?”

Haze.

Disorder.

Stumbling your way through the overbearing smog flooding your consciousness. Gripping to the worn sofa in your living room like it’s a buoy, the only thing grounding you in painful reality.

It’s fragmented, the onslaught of new information cluttering your mind, unable to be sifted through logically.

Owens.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you’ve lost all faith in your legs to keep you upright. Sea legs giving out beneath you, collapsing under the weight of a burdened mind. You quickly put Audrey in her bassinet the second you arrived home, stepping back from her small body like she was made of fire. Delicate, precious, amidst the crumbling ruins of life.

Found.

No.

No, you need someone to cling onto. Polyester beneath your fingernails can never compare to flesh and blood, pumping with life and hope and comfort. Oh god. Craving arms, muscle and sinew engulfing your body, soothing and shushing like you’ve done with your baby countless times. Desperate for the luxury of kindness.

No one to dote.

No one to care.

No one to witness the mortifying pain of existence.

No one to observe the torment they cursed you with in the first place.

Steve.

Crawling up your throat like bile, burning your esophagus as hot lava. You’d welcome the respite of vomit, the substance of it, the satisfaction of exorcism. But no, the painful tar claws its way through your tract, bringing biting tears to your eyes. Hell manifesting in your being. Truth collapsing with a heavy hearted I’m so sorry, bouncing off the walls of the narrow alleyway while you retreated. Words spilling out helplessly from your loose tongue, rage of betrayal driving every consonant and syllable. To never see you again, let alone speak to you.

The loss of everyone, everyone. Robin, Dustin, Nancy, fuck- Eddie. They all knew. They coaxed you through the loss, never allowing for hope to breed. Lies built on mountains of lies, a shamble foundation of friendship. Arms that held your daughter with gentleness and altruism, seemingly all fabricated. Tainting her with every touch, every smile, tongues bleeding as they bit back the truth. Too numb to cry, to even indulge in the agony of feeling.

Beginnings are special, because most of them are fake. Artificial and man-made, entirely composed of brain chemistry and justifications. The person you become after your first glass of wine was already there, fretting below the surface of your facade, chipping away at the mask you present to the world. They never left.

You are at the end of beginning.

#dumbslxtclub #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #dad!eddie #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #singlemom!reader

179 notes · View notes

sunshinebarbie · 11 months

Text

only love can hurt like this

pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader x Changbin warnings: angst, language, alcohol consumption, very inaccurate information (likely). words: 4,545 parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | FINAL taglist: @q1sng a/n: part 3 is here! i am so excited to put this out, honestly i have been writing new parts like crazy for this series. this series honestly brought back my passion for writing! i even noticed this one is a tad bit longer than my previous parts. oh gosh and part 4 (at least what i have so far) is...*chefs kiss* anyway let's not get ahead of ourselves. so enjoy! ((also taglist is open if you want to be tagged message me or leave a comment))

After that encounter with Bang Chan you decided it was now time to move on to a new location, you weren’t exactly sure why you were so determined to be untraceable but whatever your mind made up you did it.

You looked back at your hotel room, a part of you feeling like this lifestyle was going to be your new normal. When you moved in with Bang Chan, you stupidly let go of your apartment. If you could go back in time and tell yourself to not move in, you really would.

The concierge greeted you with a smile as you handed her your card. “how was your stay?” she asked as she started your check out process. “pleasant” you smiled. You signed the receipt and said a final farewell to the clerk, making a last request for a cab to be called.

You stood outside, waiting for the cab show up. You dug your hand in your pocket, looking for your lip balm your fingers smashed against a plastic wrapper, you pulled trash from your pocket, it was the wrapper of the snack cake you shared with Changbin just last night. You wanted to smile at the memory, but were far too upset with him to even acknowledge it.

Instead, you crumbled it in the palm of your hand and walked it over to the nearest wastebin. Just then a familiar black car pulled up and Changbin appeared out of the driver seat.

“I just wanted to explain why I told Chan where you were.” he huffed as he walked around the front of the car.

“save it I don’t want to hear it.” you rolled your eyes and headed to the other end of the driveway of the hotel.

“the picture started making it’s rounds on twitter, and he seen it and he came over to my house furious, like never seen before furious” Changbin explained. “i seriously thought he was going to start throwing punches”

You ignored his explanation and sighed at the site of the cab pulling up to the taxi pick up area. You walked past him, as if he was invisible.

“y/n?” his sorrowful voice called your name, you wanted to turn around and hug him at least and tell him it was okay. But to you, it wasn’t.

“where are you going now?” he asked as you handed the driver your luggage. “i am not making that mistake of telling you again.” you replied coldly and got into the back seat.

The driver asked for a destination, which you gave him to your friend’s apartment downtown. She told you she was out of town for her study abroad program, and you could stay at her place in exchange of taking care of her plants and of course landing her a date with Lee Know. You agreed, but knew you could only hold up half of that promise.

You looked straight ahead and ignored Changbins sorrowful expression as he watched your driver pull away from the walkway and leave the hotel.

Your friend’s apartment was cozy, she had everything a college student could ask for, food, fast wi-fi, streaming services and most importantly an extensive wine collection.

You took the liberty to pour yourself a tall glass of wine as you settled in for the evening. It was Thursday and you had one more day to gather your things from Bangchan’s apartment. You decided to deal with it tomorrow. Since you now had a place to safely keep your things.

You looked around your friend’s apartment and sipped your wine, it was quiet, very quiet. You realized you had to now get used to being alone again. Living alone, eating, drinking, and sleeping alone. You had to literally start back at the metaphorical “GO” square.

You topped off your glass and continued to get lost in your deep thoughts. You opened another bottle and poured another glass. You grabbed your glass and headed outside to your friend’s balcony. Just in time to see the sun about to set.

Taking another long sip, you reminisced watching sunsets with Bang Chan. They were his favorite thing, and in moments you couldn’t watch it with him he would take a picture and send to you describing the colors and exactly what he was doing in that moment. You opened your phone and started to scroll through the numerous sunset photos Chan has ever sent you. The notification box appeared that your voicemail box was full and needed to be emptied.

You sighed and dialed your voicemail number. The automated lady gave you direction and played the last message that was saved.

“Hey baby, I can see the sun is going down... this is the longest we haven’t spoken to each other-please-” your heart ached at the pain in his voice. You couldn’t bear to listen another second. You ended your voicemail. Pressing the corner of your phone to your lip you looked at the horizon. It was a cotton candy pink and blue as the sun was saying it’s goodbye to his love the moon.

You gripped your phone tightly and let out a shaky breath. Looking at the phone, your lock screen was still the same, Chan sleeping peacefully taken your first night sleeping over at his apartment. Instantly you were transported to that moment.

(You woke up before Chan, it was strange to wake up in an apartment that wasn’t yours. You went to the kitchen and started the coffee pot; you poured two mugs and fixed it the way Chan enjoyed it. When you returned, he was cuddled up with your pillow tight in his arms. You smiled at him and grabbed your phone and took the picture. The shutter sound woke him up, and he smiled at you. “Good morning baby” he mumbled and he stretched. “look” you showed him the photo. “no, don’t take pictures of me when I'm asleep” he whined. “well, I love it” you made a few taps and showed him your new lock screen. “now I can sleep by you no matter where I am” you smiled, “i’m here now, so why don’t you lay by me?” he lifted the covers...)

You pulled yourself from that memory, the echos of the ghosts of happier times danced in your ears. Pulling your arm back, and with the maximum force you could conjure up, your phone launched across the evening sky, disappearing with the sun as the night swallowed up what was left of the light on the horizon.

You lifted your glass to your lips and tilted your head back slamming whatever was left on the bottom of the glass. You wiped the remaining from your lips and went back inside. Putting the glass in the sink you grabbed another bottle and drank straight from the spout, your intentions were to forget about Bang Chan, forget about the life you had with Bang Chan and forget that you had no plan.

The morning sun blinded your eyes, you must have left the balcony curtains open last night when you got back. You groaned feeling the pounding headache of your hangover settling in.

You sat up discovering you passed out on the couch; you looked around for your phone and panicked but then suddenly remembering your phone was shattered to pieces somewhere. You looked over at the microwave, it was nearly 10:00am. Your hangover was bad, you didn’t know if you could gather your items from Bang Chan’s place today. You thought about all your clothes, some of your dishes, and other items that would be hell to transport over to your friends without a vehicle.

You didn’t want to think about it any longer, your stomach was far too empty, and your head was pounding too much to be focused on the issue.

You pulled on a large hoodie, and some sweatpants. Your friends' sunglasses were by the door making them easy to slip on as you exited the door. The nearest convenient store was down the street, you decided to walk, the fresh air could help with the nausea.

The street cleaner was sweeping up various debris, as you walked past him and smiled. He smiled back as he swept up the shattered remains of your phone into the dust pan. You chuckled at the memory of drunkenly tossing it over the balcony, it seemed like a good idea at that time.

The store was cool, especially after that long walk over. You wondered down the aisles, pulling hangover tablets, grabbing water, and heat up ramen. You walked over to the deli section and grabbed a chicken wrap, and some pickles. You walked up to the line that was forming to the register. You couldn’t wait another second and opened your water chugging down half the bottle.

The person in front of you turned to see what the noise was, you were too busy trying to screw the bottle cap back on to notice.

“y/n?” Felix took a double take. You felt the air thin at the familiar voice. “Felix...hi” your eyes went wide seeing him standing in line in front of you.

“Lix buy this for me too.” Hyunjin walked over, handing his friend another snack item. He looked at you quickly and took a second look as well. He looked at the items in your arms and back at Felix. You looked around the store seeing if any other familiar faces would appear. The coast was clear.

You twisted your items in your arms, trying to contemplate leaving everything and running towards the exit, or staying in this awkward moment.

The cashier called the next customers up, and the three of you stepped forward taking up the empty space to keep the line short.

“I would ask how have you been but judging by the look of your-” Felix mumbled looking at your hangover outfit. “then don’t.” you snapped back and tried to look somewhere else. “yeah, sorry-I didn’t mean to-” Felix tried to apologize.

“it’s fine, just- pretend you don’t know me” you requested. Felix nodded in agreement, just in time for him and Hyunjin to be the next up to the counter. The cashier finished their transaction and called you up next. Felix was gathering his items and placing his cash back safely in his wallet. “card is declined.” the cashier sighed.

Felix looked up at you as you nervously tucked your hair behind your ear. “that’s impossible, I have money on this card.” you assured the cashier. “try it again.” you slid the card back to him. The cashier swiped the card and pushed a button and sighed “really declined” he handed it back to you. “it’s okay, I have cash” you reached into your pocket and closed your eyes in frustration remembering you left the money in your pockets of the pants you wore yesterday.

“it’s fine, sorry to waste your time.” You walked away from the counter, you refused to look at Felix and walked right past him. Upon walking out the door, you immediately spotted Changbin and Hyunjin standing by the car waiting for Felix.

“Shit” you cursed under your breath and turned immediately crashing into another body. Your butt hit the pavement hard as you yelped in pain. “i’m so sorry.” Felix extended his hand, you pouted at the gesture but eventually grabbed his hand and allowed him to help you to your feet.

“you’re fine.” you dusted your bottom off from any visible dirt. “i know you said to pretend I don’t know you but-” Felix lifted a plastic bag with your items inside and smiled at you. “-I do know you and it looks like you could really need these.”

You forced a weak smile and grabbed the bag from his hand, “thanks” you whispered quiet enough for him to hear. You started to walk towards the road when Felix called after you, you turned and noticed Changbin and Hyunjin also looking in your direction.

“do you need a ride? We can drop you off on our way to the studio?” Felix offered with an angelic smile. “oh, no. I'm fine Lix really.” you assured him. “are you sure? It really won’t be an issue.” he waved at his two friends standing by the car.

“the thing is-” you sighed and looked over at Changbin who was still staring at you. “i’m not really on talking terms with 1/3 of the company you’re with” you replied. Felix looked over at Changbin and nodded in acceptance. “well, if you need anything. Text me or call me.” You looked away remembering the street cleaner sweeping up the remains of your phone.

As Felix turned, you stepped forward and stopped him by calling his name. Felix turned around his focus right back on you.

“I heard you’ve been letting Chan sleep over at your place.” you looked at him with wide eyes. “yeah, he’s been there for a few days now” Felix replied. “how is he?” you asked nervously. “a bit banged up emotionally, but-we're helping him through it.” Felix nodded. “Changbin too?” you asked. “Especially Changbin” Felix chuckled. “that’s good, I-I didn’t want years of friendship going down the drain because of me.”

“why would you think that?” Felix furrowed his eyebrows. “because of the pictures of me and Changbin floating around the internet.” you reminded him. “oh right.” Felix replied “Changbin explained it was a misunderstanding. that morning Bang Chan seen them he went straight to Changbin and-” before Felix could continue Changbin pulled up beside the two of you. “we’re going to be late” he cleared his throat after opening the window enough so Felix could hear him.

“oh, right” Felix fumbled the items in his hand and hurried to the car door. Before getting in he looked at you sympathetically. “let us know if you need anything y/n, you’re our friend too” he added before getting in. You looked at Changbin who just looked straight and put the car in drive. You watched as their black car disappeared down the road, headed towards the JYP building.

“i shouldn’t have broke my phone” you grumbled, feeling the peak of the sun about to hit. As quickly as it could you headed back to your friend’s apartment to figure out how you would get your stuff from Chan’s.

Across town, Felix, Changbin and Hyunjin arrived at the JYP building. Lee Know was going over dance steps with I.N and Han.

“finally!” Lee Know exclaimed seeing Hyunjin walk inside. “we are trying to remember the move that is right after this one” he moved his hands and body “and right before this one” I.N showed another movement.

Hyunjin joined his friends as Felix unloaded the bag of goodies he just picked up from the store. “Chan?” he picked up a bottle of Chan’s favorite beverage. “i got you this one.” he handed it over to his Hyung. “thanks” Chan smiled weakly.

Chan looked at his phone and pressed send on another text message. “you alright?” Felix asked after taking a sip from his drink. “yeah, I just-” Bang Chan looked at his friend. “do you think she is at the apartment right now?” he changed the subject.

“i been going crazy trying to text her, I want to be there when she is” he looked at his phone, the text still on delivered. “why?” Changbin asked as he stretched his arms. “I was angry when I told her to move out.” Bang Chan admitted. “i don’t want her to, I think we can still work this out.”

“well, she isn’t at your place.” Changbin replied sounding visibly annoyed. “how do you know?” Bang Chan furrowed his eyebrows. “has she been texting you?” he dropped his phone on the table, and walked up to Changbin. Felix stepped between his two friends. “Because we saw her at the store not more than ten minutes ago.” Felix interrupted.

“she said she doesn’t want this whole thing to ruin any friendships” he announced gathering the attention of the rest of the members, including Seungmin who just walked in. “and I agree” he added.

Bang Chan looked at Changbin and sighed. “I’m sorry.” he apologized, “with the new songs still not done, and this whole thing-” he sighed. “i just feel like I haven’t slept in days, and I'm just stressed.” Changbin nodded accepting the apology, or at least he would say it was an apology. “it’s okay, I get it.” he replied. “i can help with the new songs, and you can get some much-needed rest, okay?” Changbin patted his friends back.

Bang Chan smiled a tired smile and nodded. “let’s get this dance practice over, so we can all go home and sleep” Changbin announced as everyone got into their positions.

Bang Chan watched as his friends got into their spots. He looked at his phone and wondered if you would ever text him back.

Back at your friend's apartment you were waking up from another hangover induced nap, checking the time it was nearly evening. “shit!” you cursed, you slept the entire day away, when today was your last day to grab your items.

You hurried and grabbed your key to Bang Chan’s apartment and stopped. “i don’t have a vehicle.” you remembered. “and all moving companies are closed now.” you sighed. You looked around your friend's apartment and remembered what Felix had said earlier.

You really didn’t want to ask any of Chan’s friends for help, but at this point you were desperate. You grabbed some change from your pocket and went to the corner where a payphone was available. “what was his number?” you closed your eyes.

There was only one number that you could remember, and with your fingers crossed you hoped Felix was with him. Your fingers dialed the number, and the line hummed. You looked around the empty streets as you waited for the line pick up. “come on.” you whispered. The phone rang for the fourth time when the line picked up. “Hello?” the voice asked nervously.

“Han?” you practically jumped for joy, “who is this?” he asked again feeling uneasy. “it’s me y/n” you replied. “oh,” he sighed on the other end. “why are you calling on a weird number?” he asked “not important Han, I need to know if Felix is nearby?” you asked. “uh, he was here but let me see where he went.” Han mumbled. “Chan? Where's Felix?” his voice pulled away from the phone speaker.

You covered your mouth to quiet your breathing as you heard Chan’s voice in the background replying he was in the kitchen, followed by a “why?”. “because y/n-” “HAN!” you shouted getting his attention allowing him to only get the first sound of your name out. “can you give the phone to Felix?” you requested. “yeah, hold up.” he replied, you could hear the shuffling of his body as he walked

“who?” you heard Felix ask, “Hello?” he finally answered. “Felix!, I need your help, like really need it.” you panicked.

“what’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked panicked now. “yes, but I drank too much wine last night, and I forgot about Chan’s request to have me completely moved out by tomorrow.” you spoke quickly. “can you and maybe a few of the guys help me?” you bit your lip as you waited for his reply.

“uh-It’s pretty late y/n” Felix replied. “please Lix!” begged. “insert 10 more cents” the operator requested.

“look, the phone is going to cut out, but meet me at my friend’s apartment, it’s on sunset circle like three blocks from Chan’s” you hurried. The line went silent. “Felix?” you looked and pressed the buttons, but the call ended.

“shit.” you cursed and hung up the phone, you walked back to the apartment complex and went inside. You sat on the couch, feeling defeated. “this break up is just causing more problems than it’s worth” you grumbled. You switched on the TV and put on your favorite show, two episodes passed when the door knocked. You got up and opened seeing your delivery girl. “hello, I got an order for a y/n?” she smiled.

You grabbed the bag and smiled at her as you handed her a tip, as you were about to close the door she cleared her throat. “i hate to ask, but do you think maybe you can watch me walk back to ride? There is a truck that has been driving around the lot since I pulled in, they just keep slowing down at any one who comes out of an apartment.” she bit her lip.

“sure.” you smiled and put your food on the floor, you followed her down to the lot, the truck in question parked and Felix jumped out of the passenger door.

“thank you.” she waved as she got into her car and reversed. “Felix?” you approached him. Lee Know rolled down the window clearly annoyed. “well it’s about time.” he sighed.

“i been texting you for the past 45 minutes, we didn’t know which apartment was your friends” he showed you his phone. “i don’t have my phone, why do you think I called you on a pay phone?” you replied.

“well, do you want to get your stuff or just leave it because it’s almost 10?” he shrugged. “no, Chan wanted me out, I'm getting out.” you replied. “let me go grab the key, and I'll be back down.”

The boys drove you to a familiar apartment building. “i don’t know if we can get everything, but we will try.” Felix informed you. “thank you.” you hugged him, he was surprised but he hugged you right back.

In the apartment you grabbed arms full of your clothes, your shoes and other things. “just everything by the door?” Lee Know poked his head in the room as you ran your fingers through Chan’s hoodies, that still carried the scent of his cologne.

“yeah,” you replied and closed the closet door. You looked back at the room, it was a dark hallow shell of empty memories that you made with Chan. You sat down on the mattress and touched his pillow, you smiled as your fingers drew lines down to the sheets.

“thought you said you wanted nothing to do with any of us?” a voice griped by the door. You looked up and saw Changbin leaning against the frame.

“i actually meant only you.” you replied coldly and stood up to leave the room. Changbin lifted his arm blocking your exit. You sighed in frustration. “JYP as much as I don’t want his help, cleared up those dating rumors” he informed you. “yippie” you sarcastically replied.

“y/n” he leaned his body more towards you really blocking your exit now. “please, I don’t want to lose any more friends.” his eyes were now soft and full of sorrow. “Chan barely speaks to me, even though I told him we were just having a late night dinner as friends.” “I lost Chan, I don’t want to lose you too.”

You felt like your friendship with Changbin was already lost, not because of this break up with Chan but because you were burying some kind of feelings for him deep down. You wanted to take this time to figure it out but he was making it hard, by showing up.

“Changbin” you exhaled a deep breath. “you could never lose me, even if you left me in the middle of a desert with no map” you giggled. A smile spread across his face, and boy did it make your icy heart melt.

Changbin embraced you softly, you closed your eyes and melted into his arms. “i missed you.” he mumbled into your hair. “i missed my friend” he pulled away from the hug. “instead of hugging maybe you both can lend a hand?” Lee Know walked by holding boxes.

Changbin hurried over to Lee Know to grab some items, you watched him disappear out the door and you frowned, “friend” repeated in your head.

After everything was packed, Changbin offered to drive you back to your friends. The two of you drove back in silence. You leaned towards the window and watched as the lights passed by illuminating your face.

Changbin pulled up behind the truck and put the car in park. He was about to get out when you called his name.

“Changbin.” you touched his arm. “this is the part in the movie when the girl drops the hint she likes the boy and he realizes he loves her too.” your mind thought. He looked at you and leaned back against the seat.

“i just wanted to say, you could never lose Chan” you smiled weakly, “right now, everything is still fresh he doesn’t hate you, he hates the situation.” Changbin nodded and returned your smile with one of his own.

“i’m sorry I dragged you into this.” your voice cracked. “hey,” Changbin turned to you, “i dragged myself into this, from the moment I saw you sitting on that park bench” he replied “and if we went back in time, I would do it again” he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.

The both of you looked into one another’s eyes, you could feel a gravity pulling you towards him, and you could tell that same gravity was pulling him towards you.

Just then Han pulled the driver door open. “which apartment? And make it quick, Lee Know is ready to just throw everything on the sidewalk and call it a night” he chuckled.

You let go of Changbin’s hand and opened your door exiting quickly. Maybe this was a sign, that whatever force you were allowing to take you, was a mistake.

The boys brought everything to your friends’ apartment and left everything in the living room in piles. After everything was accounted for you smiled at the boys. “Thank you guys, I really appreciate this” you smiled.

“of course y/n, we’re happy to help” Felix yawned. “i swear, I will repay you somehow, just say how and when.” you hugged Felix. You hugged the rest of the boys and followed them to the door. “you can thank me with this.” Han picked up your food you left by the door. “sure, but it’s cold” you shrugged.

The boys waved bye and headed back down to the lot. Changbin was walking away last but stopped and turned around calling your name.

“y/n I know this probably isn’t the best time but-” he sighed. “in two weeks JYP is having an album release party for TWICE.” he cleared his throat. “would you be my plus one?” he asked nervously. “but, wouldn’t that just refuel the dating rumors?” you chuckled nervously.

“no. Because I promise, I will make sure everyone knows we’re just friends.” he assured you. You thought about it and finally nodded in agreement. “sure.” you smiled.

“cool. I'll see you next Saturday.” he waved you goodbye. You waved until he was out of sight and closed the door locking it behind you.

The reality hit you suddenly, “what did I just agree to?” You closed your eyes and slid your body down the door until you were sitting on the floor.

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e-dubbc11 · 8 months

Text

Never Again Pt. 3

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, alluding to smexy time, violence, some fluff

Word Count: 3.9k-ish

Summary: Part 3 of 3. You’ve been staying with Brock for about 2 weeks since your ex tracked you down, and you’re trying to figure out what to do next because it’s only a matter of time before he finds you again.

Part 1

Part 2

A/N: I had such a good time writing this series, and I appreciate the 6 of you that have read it. 🤣 I’m kidding, I’m kidding 😆 It won’t deter me from writing for Brock again, he’s fun to write for, plus have you seen him? 🥵 I had a hell of a time figuring out how to end this, it was giving me some problems but I hope you like it! ♥️ Oh and I have an ask for Billy that should be out REAL soon! Ok I’ll stop.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The dream you were having wasn’t exactly exciting. The dripping candles in the middle of the table, the crisp white tablecloth, and the dim lights of the restaurant were all very romantic.

Brock looked very handsome in a suit, he wasn’t wearing a tie but it didn’t suit him anyway, the top buttons undone, and he was taking a sip of his whiskey.

“What’s so funny, doll?” He asked.

You continued to chuckle. “I don’t know why you brought me here, Rumlow. You look so uncomfortable right now.”

“Well I thought I’d take you somewhere nice for our first date. You don’t like it?” He asked.

You continued to smile. “Oh I like it fine, clearly you don’t though.” You said, taking a sip of your red wine.

“But it’s not for me, it’s for you.” He said.

You reached across the table to touch his hand. “Well it’s very sweet of you, Brock but I would have been happy with bar food and a cold beer.” You said.

He looked down at your hand as your fingers brushed against his knuckles and brought his gaze up to meet yours. “I’ll remember that for next time, sweetheart.”

This dream was a lot different than the nightmares you had been having. Seeing Danny’s fist coming straight for your face, you could almost feel his fingers squeezing your upper arms, and the pain in your side when he pushed you into the bookcase. Everything felt so real, like the tears streaming down your face as you begged him to stop.

From the violence to all of the apologies, they played on a loop in your mind. You remembered all of the flowers and gifts he brought you and when you thought about it now, you felt so stupid for taking him back all of those times.

Back then, you felt weak, defeated, and worthless but you had become strong enough to leave, not take it anymore and for the first time in your life, you felt strong and in control of how you wanted to live your life.

It had been a long couple of weeks. The tension between you and Brock finally coming to a head earlier tonight and letting go of that tension that sparring couldn’t get rid of. He fucked that tension right out of you and you couldn’t remember the last time you had been that calm or relaxed.

The man was absolutely crazy about you.

You tried to make tea after the shower but as soon as Brock saw your nightshirt creep up to reveal your panties reaching for the box of tea, he was all over you.

The loud sinful noises he continued to pull from you over and over again echoed inside his apartment, you were starting to feel bad for his neighbors for having to listen to it all.

You felt like your entire body was trembling from overstimulation coming down from your high but you managed to ask him, “I may have a hard time walkin’ tomorrow. How much tension were you holding onto, anyway?”

“I’ll admit, at first I didn’t wanna like you but I hated seeing those marks on you, that bruise around your eye made my blood boil and to see how determined you were to learn because you didn’t wanna be afraid anymore. You impressed me, sweetheart and that ain’t easy to do.” He had said.

You imagined that no one else really saw the sweet side of Brock that you had witnessed the past two weeks. The moment he came home with supplies for Peanut, you knew that he was soft but only a little.

You had even caught him petting the cat a couple of times.

“Were you just petting Peanut?” You asked, the corner of your mouth curled up revealing half a smile.

He turned to face you and even though he was caught, he denied it.

“No!” He said, emphatically.

“Because from here, it looked like you were scratching him behind his ears.” You had said, trying to control your laughter.

“Well I wasn’t.” He said.

“Ok, then why is he rubbing up against you and purring? He doesn’t do that unless you pet him first.”

“I dunno.” His gaze aimed at the floor.

You walked over to him slowly, he was facing away from you. Snaking your arms around his waist you pulled him flush to your chest, pushed yourself up on your toes and kissed him on the cheek.

“Whatever you say, Rumlow.”

Falling asleep in an unfamiliar location was difficult but being able to dream and remember that dream was against all odds but you had managed to do both sleeping next to Brock.

You hummed against his chest as he laced his fingers with yours, trying to keep your eyes open but your eyelids just became heavier and heavier.

“So I’m guessing I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore?” You joked.

You felt him smile against the top of your head. “Not unless you want to, doll.”

“Well I don’t want to.” You said.

He rolled on top of you, his hips in between your legs, and gazed at you with his warm golden eyes. “I don’t want you to either. Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He said, his voice sounding extra raspy as he swept a stray hair away from your face and kissed your forehead.

As soon as he said that, your eyes closed and were too heavy to open again. It felt like you had just closed your eyes when you felt the hand clamp over your mouth. Your eyes shot open and struggled for a brief second when you heard Brock’s voice.

“It’s just me, doll. It’s just me. I need you to be quiet, do exactly as I say and keep calm for me, can you do that?”

You nodded slowly as you tried to adjust your eyes to the darkness.

“Someone’s here.” He whispered in your ear.

Brock slowly moved his hand away from your mouth, reached under the bed and pulled out one of his guns. You started to get out of bed when he stopped you, whisper yelling at you to stay put even after you offered to help.

“Stay there, do NOT move!” He whispered again.

You nodded again.

Carefully, he moved over toward the bedroom door, you could see the faint warm glow of the kitchen night light and then he was gone.

Suddenly, you heard a crash, followed by a struggle and incoherent yelling before you clearly heard a voice yell, “RUMLOW!!! IT’S ME! IT’S JACK…ROLLINS!!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!! I could have shot you, asshole!” Brock yelled.

He called out to you from the other room. “It’s alright, y/n!”

Quickly, you threw on some sweats and walked out into the other room and saw a tall angry looking man standing next to Brock.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Jack?! And how did you get in here anyway?!” He asked and then glanced in your direction. “Oh, y/n…this is Jack Rollins. We work together…Jack, this is y/n…we, uh, sleep together.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks, you were flushed with embarrassment as you covered your eyes and reached out to shake Jack’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” You said.

“Likewise.” Said Jack before turning back to Brock. “Your phone was off and Fury needs us for something, he didn’t say what. And I still had your key from when you were away and you wanted me to water your plants.”

You started to chuckle and bit down on your thumb. “You don’t have any plants, Brock.”

“Not anymore, thanks to this guy!” He said with a raised voice.

You continued to laugh and finally took a good look around. “Well you two made a hell of a mess, didn’t ya?” You said.

“He’s lucky I didn’t fuckin’ shoot him. I should shoot him anyway just for scaring you.” Brock said in a disappointing tone, glaring at Jack. “Lemme just get my stuff, hang on. Will you help me, doll?”

“Sure.” You replied, following him to the bedroom. “Where’s the bag with all of your--?”

Brock turned, pulled you in flush to his chest as his lips crashed against yours. His lips parted and his tongue glided against yours making it difficult to catch your breath.

His touches sent tremors of pleasure down your spine. Your breath was caught in your throat and you could only let out a muffled gasp as he kissed up and down your neck and throat.

“Not that I mind but what is all this for?” You asked, gently tugging on his hair.

He pulled back to look at you. “Just sayin’ see ya later.”

“Oh, ok.” You said with a wink.

“I want you to keep this with you.” He said, placing the gun in your hand. “I’ll let you know how long I’ll be and when I’ll be back, hopefully it won’t take too long.”

Jack called out from the other room. “Come on Rumlow, we gotta go! Fury’s gonna be pissed!”

“I’ll clean up the mess you two made.” You said with a warm smile.

He smiled back. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but when Fury calls, I gotta answer.”

“Are you ever gonna tell me what you do?” You asked in a joking tone.

He kissed the tip of your nose and said, “Maybe.”

“I gotta find Peanut, you two probably scared the shit outta him…be safe, baby.” You said, gently pressing your lips to his.

Brock turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving you alone for you weren’t sure how long. “I’ll see you soon, doll.”

Before they closed the door behind them, you heard Jack say, “Dude, she is super-hot, does she have any single friends?”

His comment caused a smile to stretch across your lips and you smiled even bigger when you heard Brock’s response. “No, let’s go…you wrecked my house. Get out, now!”

The door closed behind them and you were alone with a mess to clean up and a cat to find.

**********

You decided to wait until the next day to clean up the mess Jack and Brock made. It was late so you stuck the gun under the bed next to you and tried to get some sleep.

You did end up finding Peanut and he slept in the chair Brock had in the bedroom, but it was a little lonely sleeping by yourself.

The next day was spent cleaning up and you even went further cleaning his entire place which wasn’t a complete disaster considering he lived alone.

Brock texted to say he would be back later that night so after you had finished cleaning, you spent the day cooking and even baked some cookies.

You did remember to bring the gun with you to every room you went into even while you were taking a shower.

As you sat on the couch watching a movie, your mind wandered and you were lost in a daze thinking about last night, thinking about Brock touching you, kissing you, and leaving a trail of love bites that only he could see. Goosebumps peppered your skin as you clenched your aching thighs together thinking about it all.

You wanted him home.

Three quick raps on the door snapped you out of your daydream. Without thinking, you walked over to the door and threw it open, as you said, “Did you forget your keys, baby?”

Standing in the doorway was Danny. You tried to slam the door shut but he pushed his way through.

“Hey beautiful. You shouldn’t open the door for strangers.”

You pulled the gun Brock gave you and aimed it between his eyes. “Get outta here, Danny and I won’t have to shoot you.”

Just then, Peanut jumped onto the counter and started meowing.

“Ah, there he is.” Said Danny, walking over toward him.

He leaned down to give him a pet and Peanut swiped at his face, scratching him above the eye. Danny cried out in pain and touched the cut the cat just gave him.

“I told you he never liked you.” You said with a slightly wicked smile, still pointing the gun at him. “Now, get out!”

“You just gonna shoot me, y/n? You don’t wanna try and put those fighting skills to the test? You got lucky last time, knocking me out with the freezer door. Put the gun down, lemme see what you can actually do.”

The day you met Brock, you remembered what he said to you before your first training session. “Leave those bruises uncovered. I want you to take one more look at them because after I’m done with you, those will be the last set of bruises he’ll ever give you.”

You switched the safety on and set the gun on the kitchen counter behind you.

Danny was never going to stop coming after you, he was never going to leave you alone, and you realized that this has to end. It has to end tonight, you didn’t want to have to look over your shoulder anymore when you walked down the street or wonder if he was going to show up at your door again.

You were tired of running and you were going to make him leave.

Brock said you were strong, one of the strongest people he’s ever trained and you didn’t want to let him down or more importantly, let yourself down.

He knew you were very capable of taking down someone larger than you, and that fierce look you had in your eyes when you kicked Brock’s legs out from underneath him.

It excited you and gave you the confidence you desperately needed and the confidence Brock was trying to give you every time you trained together. Rage burned throughout your body, it felt like white hot fire and something inside you just snapped.

You took two steps toward him, took a swing and landed a punch to the nose. Danny’s eyes began to water and his nose started to bleed. His only response was to laugh and when he was done laughing, he said, “Now that’s more like it.”

**********

While Jack was driving back to the apartment, the feeling Brock had in the pit of his stomach was a feeling of uneasiness like there was something wrong back at home. He didn’t want to leave you even just for the day he was gone, not because he knew you couldn’t take care of yourself but because he…missed you.

He had grown to care for you in the past six months and even more so in the past two weeks since you had been staying with him.

“Drive faster, Jack.” Brock said sharply. He had a piercing dryness in his throat which made it difficult for him to swallow.

“I’m goin’ as fast as I can, I’m sure she’s fine.” Jack replied.

Softy and under his breath, Brock said, “I hope so.”

He remembered the day he met you, the pale greenish-yellow bruise on the top of your cheekbone, and the bruises around the tops of your arms…he remembered how angry it made him, how it caused his muscles to tighten and his face to flush with rage.

Brock could tell you were nervous to talk to him. He was hyper aware of how scared you were to even approach him, but also how it took a lot of guts to do that.

You didn’t even lie about why you wanted to learn from him, not that you could with the bruises that were visible.

He didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to relationships, or even friendships for that matter but he knew that he cared about you and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong at home.

And he was hoping that he would get to you before it was too late.

**********

Once you started landing punches, it was difficult to stop. Danny tried countering but he was predictable. You knew his patterns of how he would go about trying to hit you or grab you, trying to make it so you didn’t get up again but you weren’t going to let him.

Brock was right. There WAS a lot of blood in the face.

With every crack to his body, he would let out a loud groan and wince in pain, yet he would still try and come for you. You didn’t need the help of a freezer door to subdue him this time and you didn’t need to run either.

Using duct tape and rope, you tied him up so he couldn’t escape. A piece of tape also went over his mouth in case he came to and decided to try and call out for help.

“He said he was on his way.” You whispered to yourself. “Please don’t wake up yet.” You said, pointing the gun in Danny’s direction again. “Please don’t wake up.”

Even though the apartment was warm, you felt cold and your teeth chattering together sounded like tap shoes against a dance floor. Wiping the sweat off of your upper lip, the taste of salt and blood danced across your tongue although it wasn’t your blood you were tasting.

It was Danny’s.

Looking around, there was blood and broken glass everywhere and when you looked at Danny’s unconscious body, that’s when you finally let go. Your eyes welled up with tears and you broke down sobbing.

Everything you had been feeling up until that point, all of the anger, frustration, hurt and betrayal hit you all at once like a wave crashing against the shore.

He wasn’t going to do this to you or anyone else ever again.

**********

Time seemed to stand still before you heard your name being called from the other side of the door followed by a few quick knocks.

“Y/n? Sweetheart, it’s me and Jack. I’m gonna open the door.” Said Brock.

They were stunned to see the state of the apartment and a man lying unconscious and tied up on the floor, his face slick with blood.

Their guns were drawn when they opened the door but quickly put them away when they saw Danny.

“Check him!” Brock said with a deep growl to Jack as he rushed to your side.

“He’s alive but he is OUT!” Rollins said.

He was a little difficult to make out because the tears in your eyes made him blurry but as soon as he got to you, Brock brushed the tears out of your eyes, told you to put the gun down, and pulled you close to his chest.

He pulled away to look you over. “Are you hurt?” He asked, gripping your face by the chin and turning it from side to side and looking at your neck.

Danny did get one hit in, he managed to cut your lip and your knuckles were badly bruised and sprinkled with tiny cuts but other than that, you were unharmed.

“Lemme see your hands.” He took your hands in his and saw how badly they were marked up. “You’re gonna need some ice or they’re gonna swell.”

You heard the faint moaning sounds of Danny waking up and watched him struggle to free himself but getting nowhere.

Brock’s face stiffened and suddenly his eyes glowed with a savage fire as he pulled his knife from its sheath, walked over to Danny, pulled him up by his hair, and held the knife to his throat.

“I oughta kill you right now, you piece of shit!” Brock shouted in Danny’s ear.

“Brock, don’t!” You pleaded.

He flicked his gaze over to you and you could see in his golden eyes that he wanted to. He wanted to open Danny’s throat and spill his blood all over the floor. Brock’s lip curled back to reveal gnashed teeth, trying so hard to reel in his anger.

“Please. Put the knife away, Brock. He forced his way in here, let’s just call the police.” You said softly. “I’m ok…really.”

After you hung up with the police, you watched Brock put his knife away and shove Danny’s head forward so hard that it made a “thud” noise against the floor.

Your mouth narrowed to a fine line. “Was that really necessary?” You said in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Brock pointed down at a bloody Danny and asked you, “Was THAT?! You beat the shit outta him, doll.”

“Yes I know I did.”

Brock pulled Danny by the hair again. “You are never gonna bother her again. I’ll kill ya myself if you come near her, tell me you understand, asshole. TELL ME!!”

Danny tried to nod but Brock was still holding on to his hair and he still had the tape over his mouth but he managed to let the both of you know that he understood.

“Mmmm hmmm…” He mumbled.

The police took Danny away and said they would be in touch. Watching him being led away in handcuffs gave you a sense of relief, like for the first time in a long time you could exhale and just…be happy.

Brock never took his eyes off of you. After the cops left, he gently touched your shaking hands. His hands felt warm against your cold skin as he pulled you in close to his chest.

You could hear his heart racing as it beat rapidly against your ear and the fabric of his t-shirt felt soft against his cheek.

“I swear the apartment was clean before all this.” You said, cracking a smile. “I’ll pay for everything I broke, just let me know—“

Brock interrupted and captured your lips in a soft kiss, his stubble scratched against your chin and cheeks, and his hand migrated to the back of your neck.

He held onto you tightly, like he never wanted to let you go.

“You know I don’t care about that. I’m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart.” Brock said, kissing your forehead.

Jack looked over at the two of you with a confused look on his face.

“Wait…so y/n can break a bunch of your shit and gets a pass but you’re still mad about me killing a few houseplants?!” He exclaimed.

Brock gave you a wink.

“She’s a LOT prettier than you are, Rollins! And since you brought it up again, how ‘bout you replace the plants that you killed…right now.”

Jack was trying to stop Brock from pushing him further down the hallway.

“Right now?! Ok well, if I get you new houseplants, will you ask her if she has any single friends?” Asked Jack.

A wide smile stretched across your face and you let out a slight chuckle.

“I’ll think about it, now get out of our house.” He said.

You felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Our house?” You asked.

Brock gave you a devilish smirk. “If you want it to be, I kinda like havin’ ya here.”

“Oh, just kinda huh?” You said with a laugh.

“Yeah, plus you’re a much better cook than I am, doll.” He said.

You raised your eyebrows in agreement. “Well, I can’t argue with you there Rumlow, I don’t know how you manage to mess up scrambled eggs but you do.”

He gave you his signature subtle smile and closed the distance between you. His presence was solid and reassuring as he tilted your chin up and tenderly pressed his lips to yours.

“So what do ya say, doll? Will you stay?”

You returned his kiss before telling him with a smile, “Yes Brock, of course I’ll stay.”

Others that might enjoy: @munsonownsmyass @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @qu1etwolf @redstarsandnightmares @gijos @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @randomlittleimp

#brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow x you #brock rumlow fanfiction #brock rumlow x fanfic

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

Text

desiderium

kinktober 2022 masterlist | monstober 2022 masterlist

vampire!kate bishop x reader

18+ : dark!kate, blood, killing, kidnapping, drink spiking, restraints, manipulation, dubcon, forced kissing, coercion, kind of stockholm syndrome, fingering (r!receiving), possessiveness

You didn’t expect your night out with friends to play out the way it did, with dark eyes watching you dance from a stool beside the bar. The same eyes that watched you approach to order another drink, that sidled up beside you.

“Hi.” She spoke, elbow leaning on the bar with a rum and coke cradled in her hand.

“Hi.” You smiled back, looking at the bartender who was preparing your drink.

“I’m Kate.”

“Y/N.” You answered her, hesitantly shaking the hand she offered with a glance back at your group of friends. “I better get back t-“

“Have a drink with me.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“Of course you can, sweet girl. Just one.”

But one turned into two and two turned into blurred club lights and tunnel vision, unsteadiness on your feet and a ringing in your ears as she guided you to her car. Everything swam before your eyes, your friends didn’t see you leave, your feet felt heavy as they shuffled along the pavement and nothing made sense.

Her car smelled like cherry air freshener, the leather seats were cool against your skin and everything faded in and out. Your forehead rested against the glass of the window, parted lips decorating it with steamed up breaths as your disoriented mind failed to grasp onto a steady stream of consciousness. You only heard occasional hums of the engine, passing cars, the clicking of the indicators and Kate's muttering along to the songs on the radio.

When keeping your eyes open became too difficult you let them drift closed until they opened again against yellowed light. The car seat had been replaced by the mattress of a king size bed and it smelled like rose and fresh linens, your hands couldn’t move, bound together on your lap with scratchy rope with your back uncomfortably leaning against a metal bed frame.

“You’re finally awake.” She muttered with a smile, coming to perch on the bed beside you.

“What - what the fuck?” You grunted back, a buzzing in your head as you blinked to focus your vision. “Kate, what the actual fuck? Let me go.”

“I can't do that, sweetheart.” She cooed, you flinched your face away from her grasp and the stroke of her thumb over your cheek.

“Why? Why have you done this to me?” You didn’t really know what to say in this kind of predicament, settling on questions that sprang to mind.

“I’m glad you asked, Y/N.” Kate grinned excitedly. “You are such a pretty thing - I’ve been watching you for a while now. I saw you a few months ago, drinking wine that matched your dress, and I knew I had to have you. I knew I would have you, that I would make you mine. And I’ve gotten bored of waiting, of only watching from afar and tonight I got you. My sweet, precious thing.”

“You’re fucking crazy-“

“I thought you might say that. But love isn’t always simple, is it?”

“Love?” You scoffed. “This isn’t love. This is some crazy obsession.”

“Love and obsession aren’t so different.”

“You don’t do this to somebody you love.” You returned with a gesture to the tightly wound rope encircling your wrists.

“Each love story is different.” She shrugged and you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. “You’ll learn to love me - you will love me eventually. You’ll need me.”

“There is no chance that could ever-“

Your words were cut off by a rough grasp around your neck with the back of your head hitting the bed frame behind you, harsh lips forcing onto yours with a taste you couldn’t quite place. You used the force you had to push her away which did little to help, finally releasing a breath when she pulled away with a sharp bite into your lip.

She smiled at the sight of your tongue licking away the blood on your mouth, brows angrily furrowed at her.

“Stay away from me. Fucking let me go.”

“I can't do that. How else would I have my fun, hm? I’ve got something planned for the both of us.”

The way she smiled made your stomach churn, a sick glint in her eye as she stared at you. You didn’t know what to expect when she grabbed your hands, maybe that she was setting you free. But you didn’t think you catch sight of gleaming white fangs poke out from behind her lip, baring themselves to you before they sank into your wrist.

You cried out in pain as she sucked, pulling away with red dripping down her chin and a satisfied darkness to her eyes.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I thought.” She wiped her face clean with a swipe of her finger, revelling in the taste when she sucked her digit clean. “Don’t cry, it won’t last long.”

“W-what do you mean?” You panicked out through tears sliding down your cheeks. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I don’t wanna bore us both with the details. So just do as I say.” Kate bit into her own skin before lifting her wrist to your mouth, smearing blood over your lips when she pushed it into you. “Drink.” The attempt to shake your head was fruitless with the way she grabbed onto you, forcing her wound past your lips. Too scared to defy her anymore you did as you were told with a grimace at the metallic taste. “You’ll learn to like it, baby.”

It was hard to stomach the flavour when you pulled away, nausea rising from your stomach.

“I want the details.”

“But they’re so boring.” She pouted.

“I don’t. Fucking. Care. A vampire just made me drink her fucking blood after kidnapping me, i think I deserve to know what sick and twisted thing you’re doing.”

“Fine. If a human dies with a vampire's blood in their system they turn.” She recited monotonously, as though she’d explained it countless times and you’re sure she has, considering she’s likely a few centuries old. “And an extra fun little nugget of information for you is you’re tied to the one who made you. So we can be together forever and-“

“No. No I don’t - I don’t want this - I don’t want to be tied to you. I don’t want to be dependent on y-“

A vile cracking filled the room, head grasped between her hands, neck twisted unnaturally before your body slumped over.

“Oh sweet girl, I didnt want it to happen this way.” She whispered to your lifeless form. “You’re just so stubborn - you’re lucky I have a thing for brats.”

—

When you came to again your body felt weak, a change in your entire being threw you off balance and everything felt so strong. Each noise was so much louder than you could bear and the dim light on the wall felt like it was burning into your skull. Your hands were free now and they rubbed at your temples as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Welcome back.”

“What’s happening to me? God, I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, that happens.” Kate laughed. “But I have something that’ll help. All this weakness you’re feeling, that nausea and that strange unplaceable hunger. I can make it go away. Baby, I can make it all better if you trust me.”

“Okay.” You didn’t know what came over you, unknowing of the deep rooted connection you have to her now. An almost dangerously deep trust in the woman, a strong comfort in her hand that held yours as you followed her. Somewhere deeply shrouded by your subconscious was screaming at you, how could you so easily fall into her hands like this? But nothing about this was regular, you were hers now whether you like it or not. Everything you felt was multiplied tenfold and you couldn’t help but look at her lustfully. You felt indebted to her, you’d do anything for Kate Bishop.

“Here. I got this for you, my love.” She smiled softly, opening the living room door to a body tied up on the sofa. Wrists together with matching ankles and silvery grey tape over his mouth. His eyes were pleading, teary and bloodshot, glimmering with hope when you faltered with an uncertain glance thrown to the woman beside you. “Go on. Drink up.”

Your feet carried you over to his trembling body without you even realising it, so eager to obey anything she told you to do. You truly were tied to her now, you needed her approval, feeling warm at the reassuring nod she gave you when your lips ghosted over his neck. It’s hard to describe the immense foreign feeling of sharp teeth piercing flesh, sucking blood into your mouth you couldn’t imagine tasting so sweet, hollowing your cheeks out with desperately eager sucks of his flesh.

“Tastes good, hm?“ She muttered with a soft touch to your shoulder when there was nothing left in his body for you to drain. You surprised her with your lips pushing to hers, letting her kiss away the crimson drink with hands holding your hips. “That good?” She laughed.

“The best.” You grinned at her. “I feel so perfect. I’ve never felt so strong and it’s all thanks to you. How do I repay you?”

“Pay me with forever. You’re mine for eternity, sweet girl. Stay with me forever, that’s all I want.”

“Okay. I’m yours. I can’t imagine being without you, I need you.”

“Yeah? You need me?” She uttered against your lips, roughly cupping your clothed cunt beneath your dress. “Red suits you.” She breathed, eyeing the smeared blood across your chin as your head fell back at the intrusion of her fingers in your dripping pussy, curling into you so easily with all the heightened arousal.

She scraped her teeth over the thin skin of your throat, scratching into your flesh with stripes of red left behind, licking at the blood with a tantalising tickling over your skin that sent shivers through your spine. Her thumb rubbed over your swollen clit and you were so needy that your hips bucked into hers, feeling so close to the edge already as she fucked her fingers into you.

You’d never felt this way, with everything perfectly magnified, such a strong dependence on the woman with muscular arms holding you upright. You were well and truly hers, you’d do anything for her whether it was rational or not. Everything had fallen into place - she caught you, you were hers.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop fanfiction #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel wlw #marvel x reader #avengers #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic

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jessnotfoundd · 2 years

Note

What about reader walking in on Wilbur streaming (let’s say he’s streaming at home), telling him dinner is ready. But then chat starts freaking out cause they’ve heard of Reader but have never seen them before. So reader decides to join Wilbur for a bit before he ends stream? -🎃

𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲

Pairing: cc!Wilbur soot x reader!

Masterlist here!

It's been the second month of lockdown for covid and Wilbur started streaming every day, even tho he asked me to be in one of his streams so chat would finally know how I look and that he actually has a girlfriend and he's not lying I've to decline multiple times.

I would spend time with him in the same room out of the camera vision doing my own stuff like homework and now my job become a remote job for the world situation.

Today I've spent the whole day cleaning the house and cooking some little treats Wilbur loved and dinner of course. Some spaghetti with wine, our favorite dinner since we've been together.

I start to walk to Wilbur's streaming room and a few steps before making it to the door I can already hear his beautiful laugh. I knock on the door with our secret knocking and he gets quiet.

-Come in.- he says whispering.

-Dinner is ready- I said after showing just my face into the room.

-Okay darling, ill finish in a bit.- he smiles and I melt, I need to admit that even if we've been dating for two years I'm still into him like the first date.

A dono is made and it sounds in the room "Wilbur, show us your girlfriend or we don't believe you" I smiled, they've been like this for like a year when I accidentally call him babe on a discord call playing Minecraft on stream.

-Oh, I'm sorry chat, but you'll have to wait till she's ready.- he says and turns around to see me when I start to make my way to where he is.-Wait, this is happening?- he's shocked.

-Yeah, I guess it's time- I stand beside him, still not showing my face.

He holds my waist and makes me sit on his lap.

-Hi everyone, Willbur hasn´t lied to you, I'm his girlfriend and I'm real.-

He kiss my cheek and I try to read the chat, it was crazy, I couldn't read much.

-Chat, calm down, she and I know she's beautiful, don't try to steal her from me.- he wraps his arms around my waist and I rest my face on his shoulder.

-How long have you been dating- I read the chat.- two years, we'll make three in august.- he nods smiling.

-Height check- he reads and laughs.

-No, that's humiliating.- I laugh.

-You're not that little.- he says and I smirk standing up.

He stands up and we make a few steps back so they could see the difference.

I jump on his arms and he makes his way back to the computer.

-We'll chat, I'll steal this handsome man for dinner and you can have him again later.- I kiss his cheek and he waves at the chat.

-I'll see you again tomorrow, byeeeeeeeeee- he finishes his stream, and y snuggles on his chest.

-I love you.- I put my head up a bit to kiss his neck.

-I love you too princess.- he kiss my forehead and we made our way downstairs so we could have dinner finally.

#wilbur x reader #wilbur dream smp #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot x reader #dream smp #dreamsmp #dream mcyt #wilbur dsmp #lmanburg

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

Note

Here with some soft big family dad!jake thoughts -

Baking things from scratch with the entire family! Breads, desserts, etc. and of course he makes dog friendly treatos!

Outdoor family movie nights (especially on the big ole ranch) he sets up those huge inflatable movie projectors and has a cute little popcorn stand.

Okay I’m done…for now👀

L i n d s 😭 this ended up longer than intended and the outdoor movie nights GOT ME GOOD.

So as I have said before, my hc is Jake can cook (might not be the best, but he can for sure). I don’t feel like he can bake, but once he has kids? The man learns.

I’m going to say it is because while he wants his kids to be kids, and for them to try everything - Jake is all about moderations, he doesn’t want them scarfing down too much sugary stuff from outside - because he had to be abit of a health nut in some way (I am convinced - see that body), but not an overly crazy way, especially not with you and the kids. He just wants you guys to be healthy and happy.

So he learns - you teach him, his sisters teach him.

Some Sundays, it’s mass baking day for the week - you make breads, normal banana muffins, weird oat protein banana muffins for Jake, cranberry or oatmeal or peanut butter cookies for your kids for the week. He’ll totally eat those home made no bake date / nut balls as well.

And of course - the dogs, who are family get their own treats as well.

Because your kids are still small, toddlers / children (let’s say you only have three here rn) - it is chaotic. But the sunlight is streaming in and the kitchen smells fantastic, and there are little happy giggles and voices.

You see your eldest dip her finger into the batter of the normal banana muffins and lick it, before grinning at her father in delight.

“Good?” Jake will ask, and she nods, before dipping her finger back in and offering it to him.

He grabs her tiny hand and licks the batter off, before gasping hugely and going, “most delicious thing ever!!”

She is p l e a s e d.

Jake picks her up and tickles her, it has her squealing and the dogs are barking and the kid, is laughing and the baby cuddled to your chest is gurgling happily, drooling onto your top.

When it’s all done, you chase the kids out to the backyard, apart from the baby who you put down for her nap. You can see the two kids and dogs running outside from the kitchen window while you and Jake clean up.

He stands behind you, arms going around your mid section as you both watch.

“Just three more to go,” he tells you, but while kissing his way up your neck. It makes you hum in satisfaction, but you also protest.

“Your last kid hasn’t been out of me that long yet.”

“Mhmmm,” he’ll just hum snd continue kissing his way up your skin, maybe even sucking and leaving a visible hickey - because c’mon - even after three kids, it is Jake.

Ahhhhh OUTDOOR MOVIE NIGHTS. WHEN ALL YOUR KIDS ARE OLDER.

It is summer and everyone is at the family ranch - Jake’s sisters and all their kids. There is huge projector, picnic blankets and pillows all around, popcorn from a stand, fairy lights.

You and Jake are lounging on a picnic blanket together,your youngest, still just a toddler between you both, occupied with the blocks in his hands.

The rest of the children are… somewhere…. with their cousins, among the sea of aunts / uncles / family.

Jake reaches over, his hand cupping one side of your face. Sayyyy you are wearing a white summer dress, your face is flushed from summer and wine.

“Five kids later and you only get more beautiful with each one”.

It’ll make you giddy, because even after so many kids and years later - Jake sweeps you off your feet.

He’ll tug you towards him by your chin, and press a kiss to your lips. It is of course, not just a kiss, but a kiss.

And it goes on for longer than it needs to be.

Everyone is used to this by now - his family, your kids, his nieces / nephews. Jake has never been shy about physical affection with you.

But it still earns him shouts of “eWwWwww uNcLe JAkE!!” and “ewwWwwww DAdddd” - some of the older nieces and nephews (who were kids when you both started dating) are just doing it for fun / habit at this point.

Even your toddler stands up and toddles over to the neighbouring picnic blanket with one of his aunts.

It makes him kiss you deeper, and you can feel his smirk.

He finally pulls away, and drags you to him, against his chest, arm around you, just chuckling in amusement.

“I’m going to be there with a microphone when all you little turds find your partners,” he yells out (because he is a lil childish yk), and you turn your face into his chest, your own shoulders shaking with laughter.

#dad!jake #uncle!jake #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin imagine #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #not cm

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lailyn · 5 months

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Sharing Is Scaring

A Frostshield Hurt/Comfort Christmas Fic.

“Are you alright? You are wearing an expression one can only describe as…” Loki tried to think of a kinder word but was unsuccessful. “Constipated.”

"Ouch." Steve winced. His waistband dug painfully into his gut, which was becoming more and more bloated with each passing minute. “I may have overindulged a bit.”

“I thought you had a cast-iron stomach,” Loki teased.

“Not against Tony’s cooking, it isn’t,” Steve grunted. “I swear the guy still has a grudge against me.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Sure. Because his special, family-recipe manicotti makes such a lethal weapon that you couldn’t help having seconds.”

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Steve muttered. He sighed and squirmed and sighed again.

“You didn’t take your Lactaid, did you?” Loki asked knowingly.

“It slipped my mind,” Steve said sheepishly. “Guess I was too distracted tonight.”

“By what?”

“Whom,” Steve corrected. “You look amazing, by the way. You’ve got good taste.”

Loki snorted fondly as he ran a hand down the Christmas sweater he had decided to permanently borrow from Steve. "I’m sure that’s humble bragging, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile; the soft green wool highlighted the gold flecks in Loki’s eyes, and the ruby neckline his cheeks, made ruddy by the many, many aperitifs Loki must have sneaked in before dinner.

“Make way for your dazzling host!” Their host breezed past with an armful of snacks and drinks. “Settle down, you two. The movie’s about to start.”

Tony unburdened his load of indulgences onto the coffee table. A bottle of wine tumbled onto the floor and rolled under the couch where Loki and Steve had been comfortably ensconced for the past half hour. “Do you mind getting that for me?”

“What are we watching? Wait, let me guess.” Thor did not have to think very hard, for the choices for good Midgardian entertainment were few and far between. “Die Hard?”

“You guessed right, sweet cheeks.” Tony said.

A collective groan rose; curiously, but not surprisingly, the sound that emanated from Steve was one of discomfort, instead of dismay like the others.

“Hey, it's either that or Baby’s Day Out!” Tony pointed at Loki and Steve. “And I don’t want those two lovebirds getting any ideas!”

Red-faced, Steve placed the bottle of wine he had painstakingly retrieved back on the table. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony.”

Loki only smiled a beatific smile, and snuggled just a little deeper into Steve’s side. “Everything comes from an idea.”

His smile faded slightly when he felt Steve stiffen. Before Loki could probe further, the clamour of protests around him grew.

“Oh come on, there must be hundreds of movies you can choose from!” Natasha exclaimed in exasperation.

“We’re doing things the traditional way this year. That means no cable, no satellite TV, and definitely no streaming."

“Not DVDs!” Bruce groaned. “Tony, we are living in the digital world, you do know that, right?”

“Not even digital, people,” Tony said mischievously as he waved something glinting in the air. “Think older. Think analog.”

“That’s crazy.” Bruce plucked the laser disc out of Tony’s hand, unable to contain his excitement. “I haven’t seen one of these in ages!”

The good-natured protests died down eventually and everybody, as tradition would have it, made the same comments they made every year.

"Hey, ever noticed how Bruce Willis' shirt's blood-spattered one second, clean the next?"

"Continuity's not really that important, Tony."

"The hell it isn't. My fantastic brain's not good at ignoring all these gaffes - "

"Then maybe we should have watched something fun and mindless. The Holiday, Bridget Jones, Love Actually..."

"Oh, don't get me started on Love Actually."

Throughout all the chatter, Steve remained very quiet. The pain in his stomach had grown steadily worse as the night progressed, and halfway into the movie, he was positively sweating.

As if sensing his discomfort, Loki slipped a hand underneath Steve’s shirt and began to rub his stomach in slow, circular motions.

“You are very warm,” Loki commented, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“It’s really hot in here,” was all Steve could say. Moments later, he felt the first, tell-tale tingle of Loki’s magic burn his skin.

“It’s okay, Loki.” He gently peeled Loki’s fingers off his tender abdomen. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It goes without saying that everyone wants to enjoy their Christmas presents,” Loki murmured. “And you…” He leaned in to whisper in Steve’s ear, “ - are mine.”

Delighted at seeing Steve shudder, Loki merrily added. “I want to enjoy my Christmas, Captain. So, by hook or by crook, I will have you in tip-top shape tonight.”

“But you’ll be taking on my pain. I don’t see how that’s any fun,” Steve whispered back.

“I think I can handle a little tummy ache, Steve,” Loki said dryly. “I’ve taken on far more dire maladies than that.”

“Alright,” Steve finally relented, albeit not without heavy reluctance. “But only if you’re really sure it won’t hurt you.”

“It won’t,” Loki promised. “Now relax and let me work.”

The potency of Loki’s spells never ceased to impress, and the sharp pangs in Steve’s stomach eased within seconds.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Loki said lightly. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to take your medicine. Or was it your intention all along to distract me from Alan Rickman?”

Steve laughed, and dropped a playful peck on Loki’s temple. “You caught me.”

Now that he was finally rid of all his aches and pains, Steve settled in to enjoy the movie, but it was evident before long that Loki did not share his enthusiasm.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked after catching Loki fidgeting for the hundredth time. He did a double take when he noticed Loki’s pallor. “You look pale.”

Loki’s smile was tight and wan. “I’m always pale, or so you people keep telling me.”

Steve frowned. There was something in the tone of Loki’s voice that did not sit well with him. “Is something wrong?”

Loki may be the God of Lies but he had long lost the ability to school his expressions around Steve.

“I am in terrible pain,” Loki admitted, suddenly out of breath. “I don’t know why. How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine, thanks to you.”

“Good,” Loki grunted. “That’s - that’s good.”

“Wait.” Steve’s heart began to race. “Did something go wrong with the transference spell you did earlier?”

“I don’t know.” Beads of sweat dotted Loki’s forehead as he clutched his stomach tighter. “This has never happened before.”

“Hey, Romeo, can you and Juliet take it down a notch? We’re kinda trying to watch a movie here.”

Steve ignored the jibe. “Jarvis, lights on, please.”

“Hey, what gives?” Irritated now, Tony swivelled in his seat to look, but his annoyance quickly turned into alarm. “Games, you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Just an upset stomach. I’m fine,” Loki gritted through his teeth.

Thor, the ever reliable Loki-speak decipherer, sighed. “He’s fibbing. I can tell by his colour. You’re looking very grey, Brother.”

“Was it the eggnog? The turkey?” Tony gave the room a surveying sweep. “Is anyone else feeling sick?”

“I ate everything and I feel fine,” Thor said.

“You’re an outlier and therefore cannot be the point of comparison against which other people’s digestive systems are measured,” Tony deadpanned.

Steve was already helping Loki to his feet. “Is there anyone still working at the medical lab?”

“It’s Christmas eve, genius,” Bruce said cheerily. “Guess who you’re stuck with?”

*************************

“How are you feeling now?” Bruce asked. “Any better?”

Loki shook his head. If anything, he felt ten times worse. “It feels like I’m being stabbed over and over.”

“Strange. The painkillers don’t seem to be working,” Bruce said. He bit his lip, appearing deep in thought. “But the bloodworks and the scans appear normal.”

“Meaning?” Steve asked.

“Meaning…” Bruce took off his glasses. “This is not medical. It’s magical. And there’s only one guy I know who’s an expert in both.”

The Avengers looked at each other with dread.

“Oh, boy,” Tony sighed. “He’s going to love this.”

*************************

The expert, as Tony had predicted quite wrongly, did not love it after all.

“Doing back-to-back shifts on Christmas, covering for your colleagues just because they have kids, dealing with drunks and delinquents…” Doctor Stephen Strange grumbled as he waltzed in through the door. “I thought those days were behind me.”

“Yes, we all know how busy you are,” Tony said sweetly. “Allow our resident Trickster to apologise for pulling you away from your festivities tonight.”

“Nothing festive about Die Hard, but apparently it’s a Sanctum tradition, so.” Stephen shrugged. “In a way, you did me a favour.”

“Let me guess. DVD.”

“Hah. VHS.” Stephen gave Tony a triumphant smile. “Wong’s a tech dinosaur.”

“You said he can help,” Steve criticised loudly, frustration evident in his tone. “Loki’s hurting and you’re standing around chatting.”

“Calm down, lover boy,” Stephen said easily. “Tell me your symptoms.”

Steve frowned. “Loki’s the one - ”

“I’m not asking Loki. I’m asking you, since you were the one who was sick in the first place.”

Everyone turned expectantly to Steve.

“What is he talking about?” Natasha asked. “Steve?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Thor groaned. “Loki, how many times must we talk about this?” He shook his head sadly. “My brother has no sense of self-preservation.”

But Stephen paid the ever-dramatic God of Thunder no heed, focusing instead on his patient, who remained deathly quiet and still.

“Captain,” he urged again. “Your symptoms, now.”

Steve recounted his experience, beginning with feeling unwell right after dinner, putting it down to his lactose intolerance.

“So the pain started out dull and more centrally located, before it became sharp and shifted to your right side? And you felt nauseous as well?" At Steve's nod, Stephen turned grim. “These are all classic symptoms of acute appendicitis.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “But I thought it was just - are you sure?”

“What is that?” Thor asked in alarm. “Is it serious?”

“It’s only the commonest surgical emergency in us humans,” Stephen said nonchalantly. “On average, I did ten appendectomies a day back when I was a resident.”

“I don’t get it,” Thor said. “If it’s so common then why can’t Loki heal himself?”

“I said it was common,” Stephen said. “I didn’t say it wasn’t serious.”

The doctor proceeded to sit down very carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not jar his patient.

“Hello.”

“Second-Rate,” Loki returned the perfunctory greeting with a solemn acknowledgement. “How kind of you to come.”

“Well, you are a being of diplomatic importance,” Stephen replied cattily. “And Tony’s paying me by the hour. Holiday rates apply, of course.”

“Of course.” Loki’s throat bobbed up and down. “As you can see, I seem to have found myself in a bit of a bind.”

“I can see.” Stephen gestured at Loki’s midsection, the source of all troubles. “Mind if I?”

Steve pulled the privacy curtains around the bed before leaning against the wall to wait..The others showed no sign of budging either, each absorbed in their own curiousity and varying degrees of concern.

A minute later, a hand poked through the curtains. “Doctor Banner, can I see the full body scan again?”

Bruce placed the folder into the doctor’s awaiting hand.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Stephen asked when he finally emerged from behind the curtains moments later. “You know what? Don’t bother, because they’re all kind of bad.”

Appalling bedside manner aside, the Sorcerer Supreme's demeanour had taken on a confident, no nonsense air, allowing the others a glimpse of what the doctor must have been like back in the day.

“The transference spell worked beautifully, and had Loki been equipped with all our accoutrements, the inflamed appendix would have resolved itself, and you would still be gorging on pies and cookies and what have you.” Stephen paused for dramatic effect. “Unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately?” Steve echoed fearfully.

“He doesn’t have one.” Stephen said simply. “An appendix, I mean.”

Bruce frowned. “So…”

“So the inflammation has nowhere to go. There is nothing for me to cut into, or cut out. The magic cannot close its loop.”

Steve swallowed hard. “So what can we do?”

"About that." Stephen hesitated visibly. “Theoretically, as the spell has not reached its natural conclusion, it can be reversed.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Steve drew the curtains back and grabbed Loki’s limp hand. “Loki, undo the spell.”

Loki turned his head away.

Steve's tone grew hard. “Loki, give it back.”

Once again, his plea fell on deaf ears.

Steve turned to the doctor. “He can give it back, can’t he?”

“Yeah…it’s not as straightforward as that, I’m afraid,” Stephen said. “The guarding, the rigidity, the severity of the pain…it’s all pointing towards a ruptured appendix. Now you may be Captain America and all, but generalised peritonitis generally has a very poor outcome, and to transfer it back to you at this stage would be a very, very stupid idea.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you can die,” Stephen said plainly. “Brave, I give you that, but stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it means saving Loki’s life,” Steve growled.

“It still is if there’s another way that doesn’t involve you going through the worst agony you’ve ever felt in your life,” Stephen retorted.

Steve’s face blanched. “Help him. Please.”

Stephen sighed. "Loki."

Loki reluctantly turned his head a fraction.

“You’re a shapeshifter. You know the insides of your body down to every last cell. Do you have a redundant organ, a vestigial piece of organic tissue you can spare?” Stephen asked.

Loki stared at him blankly.

“If you do, we can then divert the disease process into that organ, and take it out as you would a human appendix. Problem solved."

Feeling everybody’s incredulous gaze on him, Stephen felt compelled to defend his sound, professional opinion. “It’s a valid question. Doctor Who has two hearts.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Natasha could not resist offering her services. “I can help answer that.”

“Now that is a tough choice,” Tony said with a sympathetic grimace.

“Guys, this is serious,” Bruce rebuked. “Can’t you see that Loki’s really sick?”

For once, Loki had to agree.

“Can all of you get out of here and let me die in peace?” he moaned.

“Brother,” Thor chastised. “No talk of death, please. I am barely recovered from your last one.”

“You know what’ll help with the pain? Vodka,” Natasha said. “Lots and lots of vodka. I sewed a hole in my stomach once and I hardly felt a thing.”

“Everybody, please!” Steve shouted. “Out. Now.”

“That’s right. Listen to the Captain, everybody," said Stephen drolly. "Everyone out but the next of kin."

Feeling the burn of Loki’s venomous eyes on the back of his head, he cleared his throat. “Correction. Everybody out, especially the next of kin. I need to have a private discussion with my patient.”

Tony tsk-tsked. “Way to go, Bambi. You’ve really ruined Christmas now.”

“Sorry,” Loki gasped.

“Don’t be,” Tony said, eyes softer than anyone had ever seen them. “We’ve watched Die Hard like, what, five years in a row? Besides, I’ve got it on hard copy, it’s ours forever. Unless I buy Netflix, of course.”

He gave Loki’s knee a pat, awkward but gentle. “So try not to die, huh?”

Loki could only nod, the intense pain robbing him of speech and breath.

Stephen waved an impatient hand. “You too, Captain. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to him you won’t do.”

At this point, Steve was too distraught and sick with anxiety to appreciate the doctor’s dark humour.

“I’ll be right outside, Loki.”

Loki’s eyes followed Steve and lingered on the door long after it closed behind him.

With a majestic sweep of his cloak, the Sorcerer Supreme dropped into the chair and crossed his legs expectantly. “So. What will it be?”

When Loki remained silent, Stephen decided to stop beating around the bush. “I know you’ve got the answer. I can see it in your eyes.”

Loki licked his lips. “Stark’s right. It isn’t an easy choice.”

“It’s only a choice between aesthetic perfection and survival, Loki,” Stephen said, frowning. “We have implants, prosthetics - ”

“I am not talking about breasts or testicles, Doctor. I couldn’t care less about them,” Loki interrupted. “Only that external endowments will not do. The poison is inside me.”

Stephen waited patiently; something was coming.

“I guess it was a blessing in disguise,” Loki sniffed, cursing the threat of tears stinging his eyes. “We could have watched Baby’s Day Out and made this a lot more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Oh.” Stephen’s shoulders slumped when the truth about Loki’s dilemma sank in. “Oh, dear.”

They stayed in an uncomfortable yet somewhat companionable silence for a while, before Stephen spoke again.

“Look. I don’t know much about your anatomy, yet,” Stephen said haltingly. “But if you consent to it, I’ll see what we can do about salvaging your reproductive potential. How’s that sound?”

“You will not give me false hope,” Loki said in a hard voice. “Not you.”

“Not me,” Stephen agreed. “So here’s what we’re going to do...”

*************************

“How long does this usually take?”

“It’s a key-hole procedure, it shouldn’t take long…”

“Didn’t you tell me Strange was in an accident and it ruined his hands?’

“That was years ago, maybe he got better.”

“No, he still has the shakes. But maybe it’s one of those things that gets better with alcohol?”

“Strange is drinking and operating on my brother??”

"Settle down, kids. Uncle Tony’s got it covered. He made your Uncle Stephen a new set of hands for Christmas.”

“You did what?”

“Ever heard of biomechanically loading muscle fibres to suppress involuntary tremor, Doctor Banner?”

“Only in theory.”

“Oh, it works, I assure you. It’s medical exoskeleton technology at its best. Well. Tony’s best.”

“Tony…”

Now he can quit his day job and go back to being a brain surgeon if he wants. Oof!”

“Damn you, Stark.”

Pat, pat. “Love you too, Rogers.”

*************************

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I think.” Loki listened to his body. It still pulsated with magic, his and Stephen’s combined, but where there once was fire, there was fire no more. “Yeah, I feel okay. I don't hurt anymore.”

Steve’s sigh of relief warmed his skin. Warmer still was the press of Steve’s lips on his knuckles seconds later. “You scared me.”

“I think I scared myself.” Loki smiled weakly. “And I’m not easily scared.”

“Hey, give yourself some credit. You were really sick.”

A nonchalant shrug. “Yes, well.”

“I’m serious, Loki. You nearly died.”

“Death doesn’t scare me, Captain,” Loki said gently. “At least, mine doesn’t.”

Steve was quiet. “Think I was scared enough for the both of us.”

“Sorry,” Loki apologised. “But everything’s okay now, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

Loki tilted his head and observed Steve's stiff demeanour.

“Did the doctor tell you?” he queried tentatively. “What he did in the end?”

Steve shook his head. “He couldn’t get out of here fast enough. The minute he was sure you were going to pull through, he left.”

“Of course he did,” Loki said with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose I must visit him in that dreadful place of his and thank him properly.”

“Once you’re better,” Steve said firmly.

“I am better, Steve,” Loki said. “In all the ways that matter.”

“Yeah? Care to tell me more?”

Loki stiffened. “What makes you think there’s more?”

“There’s always more with you,” Steve exploded, his voice raw with emotions. “What did you sacrifice in the end, Loki? What did you have to give up to save my life?”

“I didn’t sacrifice. I bargained.”

“You bargained.” Steve clenched his fist, the one not still holding Loki’s hand. “Stop talking in riddles, Loki. Just tell me the truth.”

“Do you remember what I said? About how everything begins with an idea?” Loki asked softly. “Me joining you, fighting the good fight. Us, living together under one roof. The idea of you and me.”

“Yes. It was the best damn idea I’ve ever had in my life.”

Loki heard the conviction in Steve’s voice and his resolve crumbled.

“Well I had an idea too, you see. I’ve had it for a while now. But tonight I thought - ” his voice caught in a throat thick with tears, “I thought the idea had turned into an impossibility.”

“And what is this idea, Loki?” Steve asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“A family,” Loki exhaled shakily. “With you.”

“You don’t mean - ?”

“My womb. I thought I had to give it up,” Loki confessed. “That’s why I hesitated. I fought the pain for as long as I could.”

Steve had turned as white as paper. His hand darted out and palmed Loki’s bandaged abdomen. “No, Loki. Tell me you didn’t.”

Loki placed his hand atop Steve’s.

“I didn’t,” he said reassuringly. “Apparently I have - had - lots of women bits. Some I even had extras of, according to Strange.”

Steve still couldn’t speak, so Loki rambled on. “Something called ovaries? Yes, I think that’s what they’re called. He said even if one is removed, there’s a good chance we could still…well. You know.”

Increasingly perturbed by Steve’s continual silence, Loki took it upon himself to sit up -

Jolted out of his reverie, Steve quickly put a hand on Loki’s chest. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

It could be the close brush with death, or the lingering effects of the drugs still circulating in his veins, but Loki could feel the desire surging, the need to know what Steve Rogers was really thinking in that perfect head of his.

“Captain. My Captain,” Loki called quietly. “Does it scare you? My idea?”

Steve pulled Loki in so fast his head swam -

“You idiot,” he felt the rumble of Steve’s voice in his chest, the warmth of Steve’s kiss on his head, finally a whisper, fervent and frantic.

“The only thing that scares me is losing you.”

Everything about Steve was so warm.

Somewhere in the mansion, a clock chimed twelve.

After he was done kissing Loki to his heart’s content,

“Hey, since it’s officially Christmas and neither of us is dying…” Steve broke into a suggestive grin. “Wanna watch something?”

"Not Die Hard again,” Loki groaned.

Steve shook his head. He waved a disc in the air. “Try again.”

Loki smiled at the sight of its cover.

“Baby’s Day Out, it is.”

#frostshield #loki x steve rogers #sick loki #sick steve rogers #fic

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