#I don’t think he will the weed will kill him immediately
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Serious question: if we take Eve to perform at Coachella, will he survive it?
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Life is like a Box of Chocolates || LandOscar
Summary: When you take an edible chocolate with your boyfriends it has an unexpected side effect.
Warnings: 18+ only, edibles, smut, oral (both), mmf.
WC: 2. 3k
The box looked inconspicuous enough.
Oscar turned the packaging over and read through the ingredients while you and Lando opened three individually wrapped treats. They looked like any other boutique chocolate you had tried but this one promised more than a sugar high.
“Bottoms up,” Lando said with a grin.
You tapped your square of chocolate against his with a reciprocal smile. “I hope so.”
You both bit into the treats and moaned at the decadent richness that coated your tongue. You couldn’t even taste the drug that would absorb slowly into your system, leaving you with a long lasting high that would surely make the boring dinner party better.
“Oh my god, that was so good!” you hummed as you licked your fingers clean and found Lando had finished his too.
Oscar chuckled as he saw a spot of chocolate in the corner of Lando’s lips and kissed it clean before grabbing his own piece. “We normally take half.”
“You’ve never been to this event before, trust me, you’ll need a whole one,” Lando assured him, taking the chocolate and guiding it to Oscar’s parted lips himself.
Your body started to heat in response to the small sounds Oscar made as Lando fed him. “Why are you two teasing me? You know we don’t have time to play before the car gets here.”
Reluctantly, Oscar pulled away and swallowed his mouthful before returning to pack up the box. He opened the box again and put the few remaining wrappers back in, before noticing the instruction booklet under the tray. “Uh, guys, I don’t think this was weed,” he mutters.
“What do you mean?” Lando said with a laugh. “This is the box Daniel said to get.”
“Wait, Danny?” You hoped you hadn’t heard correctly. “The same Danny who has been trying to get back at you for the prank in Vegas?”
Lando laughed and shook his head, but realisation seemed to slowly dawn on his face and he snatched the box out of Oscar’s hands. His eyes scanned across the page of tiny disclaimers until it fluttered with his shaking hands.
“What did you give us, Lando?” you asked as you looked between both of your boyfriends. “Osc?”
“Okay, so, don’t panic,” Oscar’s words immediately made your heart start pumping faster and he pulled you into his arms to draw soothing circles over your back. “It’s fine, baby. You might just feel a little…”
“What?”
“Horny,” Lando answered for him before he couldn’t suppress his laugh any longer. “I’m going to get him for this.”
“You don’t sound very worried,” you said to Lando before looking at Oscar. Obviously, he was never one to worry so he just shrugged.
“I’ll take care of you if you need it,” he promised.
—
“I can’t tell if this is the chocolate or me,” you grumbled as you sat between your boyfriends in the backseat of the car. Your hands gripped their thighs in an effort to keep them from roaming any higher, but it was a losing battle.
“That’s just you, baby, it said it could take an hour to kick in,” Lando said, fiddling with his tie again. “Why do these have to be so tight?”
“He says it like he didn’t asked to be choked last night,” Oscar chuckled, reaching over your shoulder to tuck the tie back under his collar. “Now relax.”
“That was the plan,” Lando said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m going to fucking kill Danny.”
“Worry about that later, we’re here.”
You accepted Oscar’s hand and stepped out after him to the flash of cameras. It was hard not to feel inadequate when you were standing beside two of the most handsome men you had ever met, but when they curled their arms around your waist and whispered sweet words the worry fell away.
“You look so beautiful, darling,” Lando said softly as he brushed his lips over your cheek. “I’m having a hard time keeping this PG-13.”
Oscar caught his finger under Lando’s chin and turned his hungry eyes away from you. “Stop looking at each other like that, you’re not the only one having a hard time,” he groaned. You couldn’t help glancing down his body but the black suit pants hid the ‘hard time’ he was growing in them. “Stop looking at me like that,” he warned.
“I can’t help that I am infatuated with you two,” you said innocently, a sweet smile drawing his attention to your kissable lips. “Tsk, tsk, stop looking at me like that, Osc. Have some self control.”
Lando laughed and led you away from Osc as he tipped his head back with a silent prayer to survive the evening with his brats. When he had his composure back, he scanned the area for you but in those short seconds you and Lando had disappeared into the busy venue. “Fuck,” he groaned before beginning his search.
The crowd of businessmen swallowed you whole and it was only Lando’s hand that kept you from being swept away as he followed the bodies into the venue. His stiff back that you tucked in behind was the only outward sign that he hated the event but it was a night that couldn’t be avoided as McLaren needed investors to continue its growth.
“Drink, love?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Only if it’s strong,” you winked. He smirked before suddenly changing direction and towing you towards the bar. “Shit!”
Lando turned quicker than your eyes could follow and he was glaring at the shocked stranger who stared at the damp splash in your dress. It would have made you laugh if the dress wasn’t worth more than your monthly pay and currently freezing from the icy drink that now decorated your bodice.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” the man apologised.
“You didn’t see her?” Lando asked in disbelief. He couldn't understand how anyone could miss the most beautiful person in the room.
“It-it’s just water,” he stammered as he reached to brush the water drops away but Lando caught his wrist before he could touch you. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I wasn’t paying attention,” you said as you peered around for the bathrooms before spotting the arrow pointing down a hall. “Come on, Lan.”
“Watch where you are going next time,” Lando imparted the advice as he turned with you, feeling your elbow nudge into his ribs at the attitude. “What? There is no way he didn’t see you. Everyone else can’t take their eyes off you.”
You rolled your eyes at the idea and stepped into the room as he opened the door for you. “It’s you they are staring at,” you corrected.
He slipped inside the powder room behind you and checked the attached room for the toilet was empty before he attacked. His lips threatened to ruin your makeup as he pinned you between his body and the wall, grinding himself along your front until your eyes fluttered shut. “You don’t see what I do,” he murmured between his heated kisses to your neck. His hand ran up your thigh, finding the slit in the dress so it could climb higher and brush the edge of your panties. “So fucking sexy and everyone knows you’re mine.”
A throat cleared and your eyes flew open to see Oscar leaning back against the door, an amused smirk on his lips as he watched the show unfold. “Yours?” he taunted as he snapped the lock into place.
“Ours,” Lando accentuated with his usual sass that had Oscar pushing off from the door and crossing the distance in two long strides.
Desire was pooling at your core as you watched Oscar’s hand envelope Lando’s throat and pull him closer. Their lips collided with a fierce need to determine dominance and Lando tried to fight it before he succumbed to Oscar with a moan. Satisfied, Oscar pulled back to see Lando’s pupils blown out and a breathy whimper escaped his swollen lips.
“You are both mine,” Oscar clarified before his eyes danced over your body and noticed the wet material. “What happened?”
“Some idiot spilt his drink on her.”
Oscar grabbed a hand towel from the shelf and started to dab away as much moisture as he could but every brush of the material sent little bolts of lightning across your body. Suddenly it felt like your body was on fire and you bit your lip as the flames reached your core.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned as the last touch caught the underside of your beast and it felt heavy with need. “Do that again, please.”
Lando was feeling the same heated effects course through his veins as the chocolates reacted with his body. “I think it’s been an hour,” he chuckled, reaching for the stiff peak he could see pressing against the thin material of your dress. He brushed the back of his knuckles over your nipple and hummed at the sound you made for him.
Oscar abandoned the cloth and sank to his knees on the tiles. He swore he could smell your sweet arousal, the mouthwatering scent driving him insane as he bunched your dress up and kissed your core over the lace. The ax of time hung over your head as you all knew the dinner was about to begin but you didn’t care the moment you looked down at Oscar’s eyes.
“Just a quickie,” he agreed as he read your mind. Lando crushed his lips against yours as Oscar pushed your panties aside and tasted you with a languid swipe of his tongue. One boyfriend made you cry out and the other stole the sound with his kiss. Your hands tangled their hair, feeling the different textures between your fingers as you deepened the kiss and rocked your hips against Oscar’s face.
“Fuck,” Lando groaned at the pretty sight. “I’m so unbelievably hard right now.” He grabbed your hand to prove his words and you stroked his length over his trousers. “I don’t know if I want to kill Danny anymore.”
Oscar laughed against your clit and the vibration curled your toes in your heels and you cried out at the sensation. The sound cut through Lando’s amusement and his belt snapped open, his trousers falling just enough to free his cock. Your hand wrapped around him and he covered your hand with his, guiding you up and down in long slow strokes.
“We are going to make a mess of your dress, baby,” Lando moaned as he felt his orgasm coming embarrassingly quickly thanks to the chocolate. You barely heard him as your own impending release hazed your mind but Oscar thought quick enough to pull away. Your body missed his mouth instantly but your cunt clenched at the sight of him taking Lando’s cock deep in his throat. “Fuck, Osc, that’s it, babe.”
You could hardly breathe as you watched Lando’s jaw clench and he shuddered as he spilled himself in Oscar’s mouth. Your boyfriend’s throat bounced as stood up and he swallowed the mouthful down, leaving Lando to sag against the wall while he recovered.
“You missed a spot,” you said as you leant in and caught the drop of cum that clung to the corner of his lips. A soft hum reverberated as you shared the taste with a kiss and you pressed yourself against him to feel just how much he was feeling the drug too. “Need a hand?”
“Not quite,” he smirked, turning you around to face Lando. “Hold on.”
Lando reached out and you gripped his forearms as Oscar bundled your dress up in one hand and pushed your panties aside again with the other. He gave no warning before he sheathed himself deep inside your cunt and you buried your face in Lando’s chest with a gasp. You felt impossibly full before he snapped his hips back and then buried himself in you, over and over, an unrelenting pace that quickly brought back the edge of your orgasm.
Your cries were muffled by Lando’s dress shirt and your nails threatened to rip the expensive jacket he wore as you were rocked by your release that came so suddenly white spots danced across your vision. For a second your body was disconnected from your mind and the two only collided back together when Oscar joined you, warmth pooling in your core as he filled it with his seed.
“Wooow,” Oscar chuckled as he pulled out and combed a hand through his hair. “That shit is strong.”
“At least we have something to take the edge off,” Lando said, before tossing the hand towel to Oscar. Oscar ran the towel under the warm tap and carefully cleaned up the mess he made before he pulled your panties back into place and let your dress fall around your unsteady legs.
Oscar curled a brow at his boyfriend and the glint in his eye that said he expected a few more stops to this room during the night. “Let’s try to make it back to the hotel next time.”
“No promises,” he said with a wink. “Now, shall we go and sit through a bunch of old man speeches and try not to fall asleep?”
You looked down at your dress and found the wet patch had dried considerably, so much that it wouldn’t even be noticeable in the dim lights of the hall. “You still owe me a drink.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lando gave you a salute and unlocked the door, opening it to an empty corridor. “A strong one. Osc?”
“No, thank you, one of us has to be responsible.”
Lando looked at you, his lips barely suppressing the grin on his face. “He says it like he didn’t just fuck you in a bathroom.”
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#landoscar x reader#landoscar fic#landoscar smut#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#lando norris smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smut
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Rank dance era characters by how likely they would be the employee of the month at hot topic in 2009
do not have hot topic in my country so i’m going off how competently i think they could work in a mall and my general understanding of hot topic as a tween-teen emo store. worst to best
don’t work there (anymore)
15 daemon - near pathological inability to keep a job which he views as a point of pride
14 aegon - absolutely dogshit employee only applied bc otto thought work might build character in him. fired on his first day for trying to smoke weed out of a vent and setting off the fire alarm. barely even got the chance to be rude to customers or covertly masturbate in the break room
13 alicent - wouldn’t like the store wouldn’t like customer service wouldn’t go for a hot topic job and would leave almost immediately if she had to work there
12 rhaenys and corlys - would be fine i just don’t think they would work there. better things to do
11 rhaenyra - she’s liking posts that say like ‘i don’t have a dream job i do not dream of labour’ with a trust fund she is NOT working at a mall. this high bc if she did work there she’d be completely fine and normal
bad
10 criston - arguably most employed guy in the dance WILL keep a job. do not think he would enjoy hot topic as a brand or the customers would be a better employee if he wasn’t getting into fights with emo teenagers about satanism. he would however fucking love abusing the limited power of a mall cop
9 larys - tied w criston for most employed guy in the dance i don’t know how transferable the skills are between torturer and customer service. guy who gives tweens in pokemon shirts 70s torture porn recommendations they shouldn’t be watching. leery
normal
8 otto - few opportunities for scheming social advancement in this line of work but is organised and a solid employee. gets bullied by the customers for being old
7 harwin laena and laenor - normal. don’t think they’d love the work or anything but i think they could all do customer service w teens they’re nice
6 tyland - guy who managed to be the mvp of a rapidly decaying team and survive the war entirely through middle management of financial minutiae and being sort of smilingly inoffensive i think he’s made for customer service. store manager material
good
5 viserys - everything bad that happened in viserys’ life can be tied back to his not being an oldhead horror fan in 2009 with a million dollar warhammer collection he wants to tell you about i unironically think he would crush it
4 jace baela and rhaena - not much to say. nice and normal teenagers would be a good employee at any store in the mall. jace doing his high valyrian homework on his break. higher than harwin laena laenor bc they could be paid less for the same work as teenagers
employee of the month
3 alys - has worked there since the store was founded fat older goth putting cigarettes out on her inappropriately younger boyfriend and stinking of incense. unfirable she knows where everything is
2 helaena - sweetiepie likes bugs has psychic visions does not act out. beloved cashier regular employee of the month
1 aemond - objectively a worse employee than his sister however the coolest guy any emo teen has ever seen in their life. occasionally shows customers under his eyepatch or explains how if anyone tried to rob the store how he’d kill them with the sword he claims he has hidden
#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#helaena targaryen#alys rivers
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breathe in the air
eddie x reader x steve. part i
foreword: this is part one/set up for a fic I’ve been chewin’ on. cw is for both parts and will get updated- no actual smut in this first one but please heed the tags anyway. +18 mdni as always. (@somnambulic-thing you inspired me to write from Eddie’s pov! 💖)
cw: smoking (weed and nicotine), R’s hair is mentioned but unspecified texture/length, also wears Eddie’s shirt, R has breasts + V, Eddie and Reader are both varying degrees of stoned while performing sex acts (please be safe IRL and don’t read if that makes you uncomfy!!), pt. ii will have: voyeurism (Eddie and R fool around and Steve watches), blow jobs, masturbation, both the boys being Down Bad™️
wc: 2.5k (part i)
_____
The sun has sunk low over Forest Hills, Eddie’s room cast in deep blue where the golden path of his bedside lamp doesn’t touch.
He’s lighting up a post-sex cigarette, one of the best things this shitty world has to offer, in his opinion- second only to feeling your warm body against his; writhing and wriggling with pleasure, neck craned to let him lick the sloping sweat from your skin- or times like now, when you’re calm and satiated, nude under the comfort of sheets and the weight of your head on his chest.
Casting a hand out to shuffle blindly through the bedside table, Eddie wraps his other arm around the sleepy length of you, pulling you tighter to himself; your response a wordless, happy little noise. His hand deep in the drawer catches on a stray cigarette, then around the hard plastic of a spare lighter. With a sigh of contentment, he kisses the top of your head before bringing the filter to his lips.
Sparks catch under his thumb, cherry of the cig burning red- like some sort of sleeper agent responding to the click, you sit up with a jolt, stealing the mess of sheets upwards, exposing Eddie’s lower half to the cool air.
Eddie swears, startled- thinking you were almost asleep, he’d been nearly careless with the open flame- tossing the lighter aside, he reaches towards your back that now faces him. “Jesus, babe. Give a guy some warning before you snap to attention like a damn general.”
Thumb pressed to the notches of your spine, palm wide around your lower back, Eddie can feel the quiet giggle that shakes through your ribs.
“Sorry,” you whisper once you’re finished, still staring at the far wall like you're trying not to break a spell. Your arms are crossed, sheets bunching around your chest- “Had a thought.”
“Must’ve been a good one,” Eddie muses, thumb following the line of your spine down, like he’s petting an oversized cat.
In true feline fashion your back arches into his touch, encouraging his palm to sweep up again, to your shoulder blade this time as you murmur, “I wanna go swimming.”
“Okay.” Eddie’s immediately agreeable, taking a long drag from the cig, letting smoke fill out the hollows around his lungs. “We’ll go to Lover’s Lake tomorrow. Heard it’s gonna be a hot one.”
Hawkins is having a record heat wave for the second summer in a row- as if all the damn underground monster shit and horrific earthquakes of last year weren’t enough already: global warming to top it all off. The sun has been merciless these last few weeks, peaking midday, nothing for it but to lie in a heated daze on the kitchen tiles of whoever’s house is the least amount of bitch to get to.
Not that Eddie’s complaining about you being half-naked most of the time. He thinks this is the year you might actually kill him, now that he can touch you, call you his- every curve of upper calf in those short shorts, every soft slip of stomach peeking out from cropped tops- he’s got enough spank bank material to last until his deathbed. (Which he’s decidedly allowed to joke about, since, ya know, the whole almost-dying thing last spring.)
Eddie moves on haptic memory to set aside his cigarette, searching pinky-out for the lip of the ashtray (ceramic, with a poorly-drawn Snoopy, the ears far too big- you’d laughed until you cried over it at the thrift store; he was fifty cents poorer that day but rich and dizzy off your glee).
“No, not the lake. And I wanna go swimming now.” There’s a hint of petulance in your voice, walking the thin line of childish whine that only appears these days after you’ve smoked, tongue and desires loosened and lax with the help of the finest hash stash in Hawkins.
There’s a smile threatening to split Eddie’s face in two. He’s been working at that hard-won wall of your solitude for ages now, showing rather than telling you it’s okay to ask for things, that you’re safe to make requests and hell, even demands, from him. Eddie’s not sure what he wouldn’t do for you, at this point- hasn’t found that line yet. Probably doesn’t exist.
A monster of my own design, he thinks, fondly, sweeping the hair from your neck so he can see the outline of cheek and jawbone, reflective with lamplit glow. “Baby, there’s nowhere to swim right now- it’s dark and that’s not real safe. Tomorrow I’ll make us some sandwiches- we can drive out to the lake, you can get stoned and I’ll play lifeguard.”
It’s probably too much to hope you’ve swallowed this bitter pill of compromise in silence, but based on the lack of response, it’s certainly possible. Eddie presses his thumb into the muscle where your neck meets shoulder, massage a silent apology for saying no when you’d been so good to ask.
Crickets chirp in chorus outside, sound dampened by the glass window- he needs to open it soon, get the hot air out and night breeze flowing (though he is loath to replace the heady smell of sex wrapped like a cozy blanket around his room).
He feels you shuffle under his hand, eyes popping open to watch- you’ve tucked your chin over the dip in your shoulder, looking down the slope of your own nose at him, an expression on your face that makes Eddie’s stomach flip (with nerves, fear, excitement, hard to pinpoint exactly).
Your voice is quiet but steady when you speak, Eddie’s massaging fingers freezing to a halt when you say, “I know a place, open right now, with a lit-up pool. And a lifeguard.”
A thin tendril of smoke from the ashtray floats into Eddie’s vision as he stares blankly at the ceiling for a moment. Then he sits up, crushing the cherry into Snoopy’s wavered outline (sorry, pal) before brushing arms with you, patient and stern with a headshake to match- “No way, sweetheart.”
“Why-y?” That petulance is back, Eddie’s heart kicking up in response; it’s your turn to give the physical affection, winding your arms in a closed loop around his neck, forehead bumping against his jaw as he works it back and forth.
His stitched-tight resolve quickly unspools as the wet plush of your lips track a path across his throat; he clears it before squeezing at your side again, one last argument to try and stick like cooked spaghetti to a wall. “You’re high.”
You snort, puff of breath sending goosebumps across his skin, rapidly cooling from lack of your affection- “Yeah, and you’re not. So you can drive us there, and then smoke again with me before we go in, and Stevie boy will keep us safe in that nice, heated, well-lit pool of his.”
Even as you speak, Eddie’s shaking his head, but it’s more in disbelief of his own weakness (namely: you). He slips a hand to your cheek, pulling back to take you in- mischief shimmering like twin stars in your eyes as you lock onto his gaze, lips parting pliant when his thumb swipes at your bottom lip.
“You gonna behave yourself?”
It’s less of a question and more of a check-in, the meaning behind the words an undulating variable, a riddle with a thousand different answers.
The one you do give is complimented by a wicked grin, punctuated with a quick kiss (awfully chaste, considering your bare front pressed against his), your mirthful delight at having won both unsettling and tantalizing.
“Guess you’ll have to find out.”
With a sudden push to his chest, Eddie goes down easy for you, hair spreading riotous across the pillow as you move with shocking fluidity to throw a leg over his hip. Your hands meet in the middle of his chest, just under the rippling ink of a crow in flight, settling your weight comfortably on his stomach.
Eddie’s sure you can feel his pulse, jack-rabbit fast, as you dip to kiss beneath his jaw. His hands automatically settle on your hips, grip tightening with each loving kiss you scatter over his collarbones, his sternum.
He’s half-hard under the sheets by the time your lips find the hitch of his ribs, stuttering and expanding to meet your mouth- can’t be faulted, really, not when your bare chest gleams in the low light, the top of your head imploring for the warmth of his wide palm to rest.
Just when Eddie thinks he’s in the clear, that the call of your needs (evident in the slickness pooling just under his navel where your naked cunt rests) will drive the call of your wants to distraction, you sit up again, using your planted hands as leverage to swing completely off and away.
The coldness of your absence is cruel and unusual punishment. Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, deciding right then that he won’t be above begging tonight- when you suddenly reappear with a clean beach towel in either arm, pulled from the bowels of his closet.
There’s youthful, honest enthusiasm to your movements- something that’s catching, apparently, ‘cuz Eddie’s tipping himself out of bed with a resigned sigh, pulling boxers over his flagging dick and answering your spree of questions about these new evening plans.
“Sure, bring a water bottle. No, babe, we don’t need sunscreen- it’s night. Yeah, I’ll bring more weed. How ‘bout you bring me that old shoulder bag and we can bring some stuff with us.”
As you work on digging through the mess of a combined closet to find something suitable for swimming, Eddie folds the two towels that you’d found along with a baggie of joints into the bag. You’re humming under your breath while getting dressed, and Eddie’s staring at all the leftover space- what does one pack for a nighttime high swim with one’s girlfriend and the guy you’ve both sort-of mentioned threesoming with?
He tosses in a well-loved edition of your favorite book of poems, figuring the Harrington abode will have plenty of snacks. Food for the mind, he thinks, then snorts at his own joke.
“C’mon, snorty.” You beckon from the doorway, an old t-shirt of his just swishing past the dark strip of your bikini bottoms, van keys held aloft.
At the front door, there’s a brief argument about coats (you think you’ll be fine without, Eddie disagrees vehemently) which Eddie wins, wrangling your arms into the sleeves of his oil-stained work jacket before locking the front door behind you both.
Eddie smiles, a secret, pure thrill watching you tiptoe gingerly across the gravel on bare feet (too stubborn to actually wear the sandals that hang from either hand). His coat is bunched up around your ears while your legs poke out like some sort of winterized bird with bare legs.
There’s a bright pang of love that suddenly hits hits sideways, a dizzying urge to sink on denim knees to the ground, sharp rocks be damned, just to kiss the tender spot behind your knees, to feel the hill of your calf under his tongue…
Your giggle breaks his reverie, impatient and pointed jiggling of the locked passenger handle clunking out into the quiet park. “Quit staring, weirdo. You coming?”
Hope so, Eddie thinks, spinning the key ring in looping arcs around his pointer finger. He bypasses the porch steps completely, boots hitting the gravel with a satisfying crunch. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
Your cheery mood is sustained during the short car ride as you chatter animatedly about some coworker drama that you forgot to catch him up on, Eddie’s hand drawn like a magnet to your upper thigh while he drives.
But by the time he’s pulling the van next to Harrington’s beemer, your eagerness has waned, speech drifting off into silence once he’s parked.
“Hey.” His voice draws you back to him, a bit, your eyes too wide and roving for his liking, coat sleeves clenched around opposing fists as you hang onto his words. “Sweetheart. We don’t have to go inside. Can go anywhere- diner for some food, back home, the damn trash heap for all I care. Just want you to feel safe.”
“I do,” you counter, earnest but chest still punching a fast rhythm. “I feel safe. I just… you think he’s even awake?”
There’s a yellow glow coming from one of the second-floor windows. Your fingers twist harshly around fabric in the dark, breath loud.
Eddie nods, then kills the engine and grabs behind his seat for the Ziploc of pre-rolls, an offering held to you between two ringed fingers. “Want a bit of Green Courage before going in?”
The van windows are soon fuzzily obscured with a haze of smoke, sprinklers for the pristine lawn nearby hissing to an automated start at the turn of 11 PM. The weed coaxes your earlier state of relax to the forefront, this time with an added layer of giggles, which Eddie finds desperately cute.
He’s sure he’s high now, too, ‘cuz he’s unintentionally focusing really hard on your lips as you speak, and you’re letting him, corner of your mouth quirking when you ask, “Gonna take me inside, Munson?”
“Uh huh.” An automatic response, just so he can keep staring- when you pop the handle of your door open Eddie reaches, faltering before landing on your face, cupping the tilt of your cheek- “Meant it. Earlier. Just say the word. Take you anywhere.”
Weed fragments his speech but you melt with understanding, leaning into his hand, your lashes sweeping sweetly at the bridge of his thumb as you whisper, “Okay.”
You’re out the door and he’s left scrambling in the wake, hauling the strap of the packed bag over one shoulder and snapping up your forgotten shoes from the footwell. He locks the doors (nevermind that this is a nice neighborhood, can’t trust rich people farther than he can throw ‘em and Eddie has always been better at running over shotput on field days) and hikes it across the grass to where you stand, a beacon of beauty under the porch light.
“Ready?” he asks.
Your bare foot- flecked with wet grass- trails up the back of your opposing leg, veins at the whites of your eyes spidering pink with anticipation (and the fresh joint) as you turn to smile at him. “Yeah. Bring it on.”
“Your wish, my command,” Eddie says, winking, knuckles pulled into a fist to rap at the front door of one Steve Harrington.
___
[END: PART ONE]
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steddie x reader#eddie munson x reader x steve harrington#eddie x reader x steve#steddie#cw weed#weed ment#tw weed
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Shiggy Drug Dealer to Yandere HCs
Yandere!Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader (you’re 18+ but still not old enough to buy alcohol)
Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW (drugs, alcohol, and murder), mention of erection, Shiggy wants you, controlling/possessive yandere, conditioning, characters 18+
Master List
Note: I’m not hating on anyone who chooses to do weed for medical/recreational purposes. This is just my take on Shiggy as a drug dealer who ends up falling in love with you.
@palesweetscherryblossom
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Just thinking about Drug Dealer turned Yandere Shigaraki.
He loves you so much that he stopped selling to you. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone else. He just wants you sober.
It pains him because now he doesn’t have a good excuse to see you anymore, but he still wants you to get clean.
He ends up stalking you, trying to just “coincidentally” run into you at some convenience store.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you in a while! How have you been doing?”
As if he doesn’t already know.
You tell him that you’re getting your drugs from Dabi now, and he knows, but he has to act like he doesn’t know.
Shiggy lies and tells you that Dabi puts fetenal in his weed. He tells you that Dabi mixes weed with a mixture of shit that could put down a horse.
“Imagine what that shit could do to you, Y/N.”
And you’re thinking about going to Twice or Spinner. You ask Shiggy about them because he really does seem genuine, but he makes up some shit about them being untrustworthy as well.
“Twice is schizo or some shit, and Spinner’s only in it to get girls high and then feel them up.”
You’re immediately put off by all three, and you pout slightly as you try to think of some way to just get some good fucking weed. So you ask him.
He literally sighs and looks away from you.
“Maybe…you should just stop. You…should enjoy your life sober. Stop putting that shit in your body.”
He wants to control you, but he doesn’t want to scare you. If you were his girl, he’d make sure you knew the rules. No drugs. You can drink if you want, but he’ll be there to supervise.
But you’re not his girl, not yet anyway.
You ask Shigaraki why he cares so much.
“Because…you’re actually a decent human being, and you deserve better.”
You can’t help but feel your heart pound and flutter.
You deserve better he says.
It makes you blush, even if it is an awkwardly phrased compliment.
You thank him and tell him you’ll think about staying clean.
However, when Shigaraki gets wind that you’re trying to contact some drug dealers around Japan, he can’t help but *intervene*.
Intervene as in kill them all. He has the power and the means to do it.
And suddenly, you’re left crawling back to Shigaraki on hands and knees. It’s a welcoming sight. You knocking at his door, eyes red and puffy from all of the stress in your life. You’ve been crying, you can’t stomach any food because of the anxiety, you can’t sleep because of the loud thoughts which race well into the night. You’ve been surviving on maybe two or three hours of sleep every night if you’re lucky.
The way you look makes his dick hard, but he pushes all of his urges down as he invites you inside.
No, he still won’t give you drugs, but he offers you a drink under his supervision. A little vodka shot. One. Only one. It’s not even half a shot glass. Basically just a third. It doesn’t get you drunk…
But it does take a bit of the edge off.
You do end up crashing at Shigaraki’s place, and his bed sheets smell like sandalwood and something synthetic like chemical spice, and his pillow is a little too thin for your liking, and his sweatshirt that he loans you is big and comfortable.
You fall asleep under the fleece blanket, not thinking as much, not feeling as much, so you finally manage to get seven hours of sleep.
It’s so good.
You don’t even notice that Shiggy is conditioning you. You, not being old enough to buy alcohol yet. You, only managing to fall asleep because of the tiny shot that Shigaraki supplies. You, feeling safe enough to fall asleep next to a warm body. You, waking up and feeling better than you ever have in the last few months. You, actually feeling up to eating breakfast, a meal you’ve gone without for a while now.
It’s all because of him. All thanks to him.
You can’t help but look at him like he’s your number one fucking hero.
Little do you know how much of a true villain he is.
#yandere#triggering content#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#triggering themes#yandere x darling#yandere themes#my hero acedamia#boku no hero academia#yandere my hero academia#my hero academia headcanons#my hero academia#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere shigaraki#yandere tomura shigaraki
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funeral
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting fic
content: depictions of grief, talk of addiction/anxiety
an: i am alive (mostly). eat your cake, even though I think it Is bad (this chapter was the hardest to write, right next to the "the third act" chapter
songs mentioned: marjorie by taylor swift
previous part linked here
--
“What are you thinking, Eren?” Hange asks.
The question is stupid. Eren is thinking of the only logical conclusion that he can draw from the autopsy report. The implication of it, of how Marco really died, is sitting right in front of him.
The patient is a twenty-three year old Caucasian male with no significant medical history. Emergency services responded to the scene of a motor vehicle crash around nine p.m. At the scene, responders found that the patient was trapped in the vehicle, upturned on the side of the road, with no pulse at the time of arrival. Patient was declared dead on scene. Autopsy concluded that primary cause of death was asphyxiation, secondary cause being severe loss of blood due to injuries in the extremities.
“I’m thinking that the paparazzi killed him, Hange.” Eren spits.
“Eren.”
“Hange, don’t. Just-” Levi mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Levi’s eyes are borderline gaunt. Eren knows the past few days have sat horribly on Levi’s shoulders and perhaps the past year and a half have too.
The guilt is excruciating. Because all Eren knows how to do is ruin people.
He dragged Levi and Hange into his mess, when he asked them for help. But it had gone too far at that point, the interview, the night on the beach, the fight - he had exhausted all ends and desperately needed someone on his side.
Levi and Hange all but berated him for it. For letting it get so far, for waiting so long when he should have known that they were always there to help. But this reaction, Levi being the one to side with his outburst is proof enough that he made the wrong choice, that he should have stuck with himself. That them bending backwards and forwards to get him out of his mess has truly taken its toll.
Levi and Hange always mimicked him and you. Eren and Hange, he knows they both have a tendency to get so lost in the emotion, to feel it so deep that the response is too loud, too much for what’s called for. That’s when you and Levi would come in, to soothe them down and bring them back to Earth.
In the same vein, you and Levi, you planted your weeds too deep into the ground. Rooted in exactly what he’s not quite sure - perhaps misplaced insecurities, whatever the two of you seemed to hide in those deep inner walls - but it kept you both stagnant, stuck where you were. That’s where Hange and Eren came in, pushing you both to soar a little bit higher than what you imagined for yourself.
But now Levi’s here, all but exhausted and broken, the same way he’s sure you were. That’s why things got so fucked up. Eren didn’t let you pull him down. He didn’t pull you up.
“They killed him, Hange.” Levi states, tone void of any emotion.
“Levi. It’s almost midnight, we’re all feeling emotional right now. We should look at this all with a clear mind tomorrow.”
“They killed him. There is nothing to look at.” Levi says, enunciating every inflection of his words.
Eren knows it for a fact. And from the look on Hange’s face, he knows they do too. His train of thought is cut off by the knocking - rapid, loud consecutive knocks slamming against the wood.
“God, Eren. Go get it now before they run off with our food.” Hange murmurs, gesturing towards the door.
Eren shuffles past the length of the hallway and swings open the door to find not his UberEats bag, but Lana, out of breath and panting on his doorstep.
“Ew. You just left two hours ago. Why are you back already?”
“Eren. Oh my god.”
Lana wraps her arms around him, squeezing hard, as she cries into his shoulder. Her demeanor settles an immediate panic under his skin. The last time she reacted like this, Eren had to watch the most gut wrenching interview of his life while she held his hand. God knows whatever she’s about to tell him now is going to break him.
Eren brings his hands up and grabs her shoulders, applying pressure to stop her from shaking in his arms.
“Lana. What’s wrong with you? Why are you-”
“Eren. I’m so sorry, you- I’m here for you, okay? Whatever you need, just-just say it.” she pants, hiccuping in between her tears.
Eren frowns, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her out of the cold Seattle air into the kitchen where Hange and Levi are cooking by the stove.
“Hi Lana Bear! How are you, kid?” Hange says, all but bouncing over to wrap their arms around Lana.
This only upsets Lana more, the discomfort worsening in Eren’s chest as he can’t help but stare at her, at her brown eyes turning almost red from the downpour of her tears and the tension sitting in her shoulders.
“What is it? Who died?”
The question, when Eren asks it, is entirely rhetorical. A figure of speech, meant to emphasize that Lana’s reaction was extreme, too obscene for whatever it is she must be talking about. But when she doesn’t respond and swallows hard, the look on her face so crestfallen, Eren’s chest settles into a panic.
His first thought is you.
“Lana. Is she dead? What are you-”
Lana scrambles for the remote on the counter, switching from the Disney Channel to the first news report she can find. The image is of an overturned car, the metal crushed and steaming in the front, accompanied with words that burn Eren’s ears. The first hit is relief - that it’s not you. The second hit is painful, like the air’s been sucked out of his lungs.
Because it’s Marco.
“What?” Levi says, taking his eyes off the stove to glance at the screen.
Eren can feel his phone incessantly buzzing in his pocket and he reaches for it immediately, Lana leaning into his side as she continues to cry into his shoulder. Levi and Hange are moving closer to the television, like that’ll somehow make the sound better, the image clearer, like they’ll be able to find falsity in it.
jean: the bodt’s said the funeral is going to be near the old house. ask levi and hange if we can all stay in the townhouse together.
bertholdt: reiner and i are heading over tonight.
sukuna: Let me know if you need anything. Give the paparazzi hell for this one.
connie: i’m coming back to seattle. i-i don’t know if i can do this.
Eren’s quick to respond to that one.
eren: i’ve got you man. meet us in new york as soon as you can, we’re all going to stay at the townhouse. don’t leave sasha’s side until you get there okay?
connie: alright. okay, thanks.
eren: phone is on.
“This is bullshit. How do they know it’s him?” Levi says angrily, hands crossed over his chest.
“Levi.” Hange says, voice nearly cracking.
“No, I’m being fucking serious. How do they know that this guy is our Marco? There’s no proof. Call the Bodt’s right now.” Levi says, pacing the kitchen for where he left his phone.
Eren frowns, his head racing as Levi walks the length of the kitchen and Hange settles into their immediate panic.
“Eren.” Lana says.
“Hm?”
“I have to tell you something. You’re going to hate it. I-”
“Just tell me, Lana. No-no beating around the bush.”
“The paparazzi…got to him first before the police.” she whispers.
“What?” Eren says, through gritted teeth as his head all but short circuits.
“They knew it was his car, he’d been driving it around that part of Nashville for a while. They were probably just following him to get pictures wherever he was going. But then he-he crashed and-”
“And what? They took pictures of it? Of him?” Eren asks, squeezing Lana’s shoulders too hard.
“Yeah. They-they only called the police when they were done, Eren. I-”
The tears fill Eren’s eyes as the implication cuts deep. It all but sears the air in his lungs, the tears welling so fast that it’s already obstructing his vision. All he can feel is Lana’s hands, squeezing his biceps, as he tries to control the heaving in his chest.
“How long?”
“Eren.” she says, tone so pitiful it makes his blood boil.
“How long, Lana?” he asks, voice cracking.
“It took them forty-five minutes to get there. They would have been there in fifteen.” she whispers.
And now, the autopsy report tells him enough. With a definitive resolve that the paparazzi killed Marco. Because he died from asphyxiation, from being twisted in the metal, not getting any air. And if the police had gotten there maybe a moment earlier, a second faster, they could have gotten him out, could have at least made sure he was breathing.
They wanted a picture. Marco died for it.
The anger surges through Eren, tenfold when he remembers the paparazzi lining up Jean and Mikasa’s engagement party, Falco’s school, his house the day his grandpa died. When you walked into his garage, drenched from the rain with a deep cut on your face and skidded knees, scared to death.
“I’m done sugarcoating, Hange. Eren is right. They killed Marco.” Levi responds.
Hange sighs, leaning against the counter as Eren walks up to them, resting his head against their shoulder. They all stand there in silence, not even seventy-two hours after the fact, and it still hasn’t hit Eren.
In full flesh, that Marco is gone.
The rapid knocking on the door, real this time, breaks him out of his thoughts.
“Probably Zeke or Armin. I’ve got it.” he murmurs.
“Thanks kid.”
Eren watches as Levi sinks into Hange’s arms, sighing as he shuffles to the door and flicks on the porch light. He swings it open and immediately feels his throat tighten, fully constricted, at the sight of you standing in the lamplight.
You’re looking up at him, swallowing hard, as you stare into his eyes and all Eren can do is wonder if your brain is short circuiting as much as his is. Surely, it isn’t. Eren has every reason to be embarrassed, to be ashamed. And you don’t.
For posterity, he fights all instincts, every urge in his body, to reach forward and hold you. To let your sweet flowery smell take over his nose, to settle his face into that crook in your neck, to have your soft, soft touch running over his skin. To let the mountain of emotions he’s been carrying fall, because you’re here.
But he can’t.
“Hi Eren.”
“Y/N.”
He can’t help but inspect every micro-movement, every gesture you make. Your eyes are nearly glassing over with tears and you’re nervously fidgeting with your fingers. You’ve dropped your gaze to focus on the ground, a habit you always had when you were sad, as your voice breaks into the air.
“Can I ask you something? Please?” you whisper.
He reaches forward, hands on your shoulders, squeezing once and praying to god you remember what it means, as he nods.
That he’s here and he’s got you.
“Anything. What is it?”
“Is he dead?”
Maybe not anything.
He can’t be the one to tell you. You of all people that Marco died, at the hands of the paparazzi. The same paparazzi who in your very pointed words, gutted your first love like a fish. Who were partly to blame, who drove you out of here alongside him.
“Y/N.”
“Is he?” you repeat, voice smaller.
“Okay. Let’s go inside, you-”
“Is Marco dead, Eren? I’m asking you a question.”
Your anger in your voice is enough to make him stop in his tracks, the second time your voice is laced with that animosity that it scares him into responding. He hears it, in his worst hours, echoing in his mind.
How many times are you going to keep breaking shit without any care in the world? The camera, the fucking award you picked over me, Connie’s fucking livelihood, my heart. God, Eren. All you’ve ever cared about is yourself. From the start.
He swallows hard.
“Yes. Marco’s dead.”
And you don’t even know the half of it.
He watches your glass tears, the ones sitting right on the edge of your eyelashes, fall in full force, onto your cheeks as you immediately start hiccuping, hands clasped against your chest.
“I-I saw it on the news. I-I didn’t believe it but I- They always lie about stuff. I thought it was the same as that and-”
“Y/N, come ins-”
Your panic sets in so fast, so quick that Eren doesn’t even register it. Because one second you’re panting and the next Eren’s watching you retch onto the grass Connie mowed this morning. Eren pushes you into the house the second you stop, straight to the kitchen where Levi and Hange are still standing in their spots.
“Wait, is that-”
“Do you guys know if we have something like…anti-nausea? Is that what you do when someone throws up or-” Eren asks.
“Is that Y/N?” Levi asks.
“Yeah, she-she was on the porch, I-”
Levi’s quick to walk up, hands on your shoulders as he talks, voice quiet and calm when he speaks near your ear. Hange moves to Eren’s side, her face wearing that concerned look she gives him too much these days, as they both rummage through the cabinets for anything that could help.
“Y/N. You okay?” Levi asks.
“I-I threw up on the-the porch. On the g-grass. So-sorry.”
“It’s just grass. What’s-”
Eren tries to still it - that pounding in his heart - as he walks over with the glass of water he filled up for you. Your hands must be wobbling too much because Eren doesn’t let the glass go, instead tilting your head up softly with his hands and pouring the water into your mouth.
“Hey. Drink some more for me.” Eren states, voice soft as he instinctively reaches forward to fix the hairs sticking to the sweat beading your forehead, feeling your skin burning under his touch.
“We should take her temperature.” Eren says.
Levi and Hange dart out of the room, to the drawer upstairs where the thermometer is, as Eren takes breaks between helping you drink the water and rubbing circles into your back.
Eren can feel every muscle in his body tense, his skin burning when you lean forward, forehead resting against his chest as you groan out in pain.
“Hey. You with me?” Eren asks, murmuring straight into your hair.
Eren feels your breathing still against him, his hands intuitively wrapping around you this time, cradling the back of your head in his hands. You hum in response to his question, which is a good enough answer for Eren now.
“Found it.” Levi says, all but speed walking as Eren spins you around, watching as Levi meticulously pushes your sweaty hair out of your face and holds the sensor against your head. You’re all standing there in silence, craning over the little plastic as the two consecutive beeps go off.
“98.6. You’re okay, Y/N.” Levi mutters, setting the thermometer back on the table.
“Thank you, Levi.” you respond back, rubbing your arms on your biceps as you stare at the two of them, withdrawn and withholding from you.
Granted, you’d do the same. You wouldn’t rush to their arms either if they ignored you for two years.
“You can take this for nausea. If it happens again.” Hange says, placing a bottle in your hands.
“Sure. Thank you, Hange.” you respond.
The silence hangs in the air between the four of you as you stand there, each of you racking your heads for the right thing to say. Eren wants to tell Levi and Hange to stop being so rude, that they were the ones who were begging you to come back and now that you’re here they won’t even talk to you. Levi and Hange are debating which one of them should yell at you first, for being withdrawn from them and not asking for help the way Eren did. And you’re figuring out who you should apologize to first, between the three of them.
None of you break. Because it’s not the right time. Because Marco is dead.
“Everyone is sleeping together upstairs. There should be an extra air mattress up there, Eren will get it for you….knock if you need something.” Levi says, tone exasperated as he shuffles away.
“Welcome back, kid.”
Hange gives you a full smile as they follow him, leaving you and Eren in the kitchen. The distance Levi is putting in between you and him stings, but you swallow the burn and remind yourself that you’re the one who inflicted it on yourself.
At the time, after the interview, the rationale made more sense. Nonsensically, you decided that you were done with the industry and that, by proxy, meant that you were done with them too. You did your interview and stuck to your word, never looked back.
It’s humiliating now. Debilitating thinking about how much you must have hurt them. Because each of them, they continually reached out until it stopped. Mikasa made every effort to have you come to her engagement party, that she would even stop the press from coming for Vogue the way they had planned for you.
And when you didn’t show, all she did was send you pictures, of her and Jean cutting the cake and of the dress she had bought for you to wear. Hange and Levi were so vigilant about it, on making sure that you were okay, that you had security details, that people really were leaving you alone. You didn’t heed any of their efforts, because for all intents and purposes, you were leaving the girl you were behind.
Her dreams, the love she held, the friends she had.
It seems stupid now. It seems incredibly and gut-wrenchingly stupid that your last words to Marco were over two years ago because you were punishing him for something that wasn’t his fault. That you can’t go to any of them for comfort because the thing that they need comfort from is you.
All you know how to do is ruin people.
“Are you hungry? Or do you want to go to bed?” Eren asks.
“I can go to bed. Levi said air mattress?”
“Yeah, we’re all sleeping together in the loft upstairs.”
“We?” you ask.
“Mikasa and Jean are here. Ymir and Hisu, Bertholdt and Reiner, Connie and Sash. Everyone else should be getting in tomorrow.”
Eren pads towards the stairs and you awkwardly follow, crawling up the stairs behind him. You can hear the loud chatter of voices, talking over each other, as you try to catch the ends of their conversation.
“But where do they go when you pee?” Sasha asks.
“Fuck do you mean, where do they go?” Reiner says, voice incredulous.
“Like in the bowl? Because if you’re sitting on the toilet, they have to go somewhere?” Sasha repeats.
“Sasha. It’s almost one in the morning. Please stop talking about balls.” Ymir groans, earning a good amount of laughs from the group.
“Eren, tell them all to shut the fuck up.” Jean groans, forearm over his eyes as he and Mikasa roll around on their mattress.
Eren looks at you, eyes weary, before he turns to respond to them.
“Y/N’s here.”
They all peek their heads up, curious eyes falling on you, as you give them a halfhearted smile, trying your best to wipe your sweaty palms on the back of your dress.
“Hi guys.”
The silence is deafening. You can’t pick what’s worse - Reiner and Bertholdt squinting their eyes at you or Mikasa and Jean refusing to look at you.
Mikasa and Jean.
Historia stands up, strutting over from her air mattress, to wrap her arms around you, the pressure of the hug so hard you can barely breathe. You breathe in her smell, spicy and sharp the way it’s always been, as she pulls away. Her warm hand is resting on your cheek, the smile on her face so genuine that it untangles the smallest parts of discomfort on your chest.
“Hi princess. Missed you.”
“Thanks, Hisu. I missed you too.”
That’s always been the thing about Historia. That she’ll pick up, even when you haven’t called her in two years, and run to your aid.
“How’d you know we were here?” Jean asks, hands resting on his knees.
“I asked Historia.” you respond.
“Told you I was her favorite. She reached out to me before you.” Historia mutters, flopping back onto the air mattress she’s sharing with Ymir.
“You’re so arrogant, Historia. And full of shit.” Jean responds, rolling his eyes.
“You’re so right, Jean-Boy. This is just like what we fought about earlier.” Connie responds.
The group of them break out into an argument, Historia looking like she’s full on about to wrestle Connie as he only instigates her on. Mikasa’s already resting with her eyes closed as Jean turns pink in the face from his irritations.
And you can’t help but laugh, warm tingling in your chest at all of them, wholeheartedly the same. You look over at Eren and smile, which he returns. But despite it all, that stillness, that outsider feeling sits in your skin. Because despite them being the same, the striking differences in the room tell you things are wholeheartedly different too.
“Okay. Where’s the extra air mattress?” Eren asks.
Connie turns, eyes wide, as he gives the two of you a sheepish smile.
“Really funny story. Sooooo….”
“God. What did you do?” Eren groans.
“Long story short, I was thinking about waterbeds. If you pop a water bed, it should be like a waterfall right? So if it’s an air mattress, it should be like an inflatable air balloon thing. Like the weird noodle guys at the car store? Right? So, I tried to pop it. And succeeded.” Connie responds, rambling.
“Was it cool?” you ask.
“Ugh. Not at all, princess.” Connie responds.
You smile, perhaps bigger than you should at Connie using your old nickname, as Eren starts yelling at him.
“You should be the one to sleep on the floor since you’re the one who ruined the mattress.” Eren states.
“She should sleep on the floor. She got here last!” Connie responds.
“She just threw up. And she wasn’t going to sleep on the floor regardless.”
“Is she contagious?” Connie responds.
“Connie!”
Eren rolls his eyes as Mikasa stands up, shuffling to your side and lightly tugging your arm. You look at her, taking her shorter hair in, as you give her a smile.
“Hey. Want to go change? Your old clothes should still be here, don’t know how well they’ll fit.”
Eren breaks out of his conversation, leaning forward to where the two of you are talking, to interject.
“What’s mine is yours. Take mine if you need to.” he says, before returning in full flesh to the argument he’s having with Connie. You can tell they’re both joking from the way they’re trying not to laugh as you start to walk away.
The two of you quietly pad down the length to the two doors, directly across from each other, as you take in the scribbled signs switched. Your old room now reads Jean and Mikasa with Connie’s handwriting scribbled underneath inscribing please fuck quietly on the door. And consequently, Eren’s room now reads Eren and Y/N with Sasha’s handwriting scribbled underneath reading yall are fucked UP for this.
You turn to Mikasa and give her a weird look.
“Right. We’ve been here for a week, actually. Table reading season four stuff. Jean and I want to share a room so we moved all of his stuff to your room and your stuff to Eren’s room. We’ll put it back.” Mikasa states, pushing open the door to Eren’s room as she starts rummaging through your old drawers in the closet.
“No, no. It’s okay. I wouldn’t want to impose on you guys when you’re almost about to be newlyweds?” you ask.
“Yeah. Yeah, next year. And we just moved it because we thought you weren’t going to come back. And Eren didn’t want to toss your stuff and all.” she responds. She pulls out a shirt, most definitely from when you’re fifteen, as you both snicker at the size and she keeps digging.
You walk around Eren’s room, your room too now, as you eye all the boxes filled with your things, tangled in with Eren’s clothes lying around on every open surface. You take a seat at his desk as you start inspecting his little bulletin board, the pictures underneath the pins.
One of him, Lana, and Sukuna - the three of them smoldering at the camera. Eren and Connie smiling, Eren and a little kid with short curly hair, and two pictures of you. The first one is of you and him sleeping on set and the other is the two of you with Falco, both of you crouching down to his height and hugging him from behind.
And hanging around both of the pins are your friendship bracelets, which you take off the hooks to inspect.
So that’s where it went. In all of the fire of moving around so much, jumping from one place to another, you always thought you lost it. But you must have left it here all along.
You run your hands over the beads, yours and Eren’s names, as Mikasa gives you a head shake, indicating she didn’t find anything.
“S’okay. I’ll look through Eren’s stuff I guess.” you murmur.
Mikasa nods as she leans against Eren’s desk, hands crossed over her chest, as the silence hangs in between the two of you. She takes one of the bracelets from your hands, twisting the beads in her fingers, as you do the same with yours.
You find solace in the fact that Mikasa is still wearing her engagement ring - a constant in the sparring mix of changes you just witnessed in the room.
Connie sober. Ymir and Historia sharing a mattress. Eren and Connie getting along. Mikasa and Jean even tolerating being in the same room as Eren. In the same room as you. And the jarring absence of Marco.
“How are you?” Mikasa asks.
“Okay, Mika. How are you?”
Mikasa sinks down, sitting flat on the floor as she hikes her knees to her chest. You follow suit, dropping from your chair to sit next to her, lacing your arm through hers as you both blankly stare at the floor ahead of you, picking what topic to broach first.
I missed you. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in two years. Our friend is dead. Eren is here.
“The engagement party looked beautiful, Mikasa.”
She smiles, leaning her head against yours.
“Thank you, Y/N. It was quite nice actually.”
“I watched it on Vogue. Cried quite a bit.” you respond.
She laughs, rolling her eyes at you as she lightly shoves you.
“Should’ve come then. Cried in real time.”
You swallow hard, cheeks warm, as you squeeze her hand. You know she’s joking, but the guilt runs too deep.
“I’m sorry for not coming. I-I really wish I was there. And I know there’s no justification for it but-”
“We aren’t mad at you. Jean and I.” she clarifies.
“I’d understand if you were. I’m your best friend. I’ve-I’ve been with you guys since the start and-”
Mikasa’s hands are soft on your shoulders, tears gathering in her eyes, as she looks at you, eyes pinched in pain.
“You had every right to not come. To be done with this. What they did to you, to Eren- Y/N, god.”
You swallow hard.
“It didn’t warrant me not coming to you-”
“It did. You don’t even know the half of it. You-you and Eren. You just-”
There’s a knocking at the door and Eren pads in, eyes wide as he sees you and Mikasa on the floor, tears gathered in her eyes and your limbs tangled together.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can come back.”
“No, no. It’s okay, Eren. Her clothes are too small. I can go grab mine for her if you two want to talk-” her words pointed, the emphasis on the last words hard.
“No, don’t bother Mikasa.” he responds, disappearing into his closet to find a pair of clothes for you.
Mikasa turns back to you, giving your cheek a pinch.
“I’ll make Jean sleep on the floor if Connie doesn’t give up his mattress. It’ll be like old times.” she responds, shuffling out of the room as you stay on your spot on the floor.
You hike your knees to your chest as you twist the beads in your fingers again, Eren’s name that you used to wear on your wrist almost every day foreign in your fingers.
“Eren. We’re going to be late.” you groan, impatiently tapping your foot on the ground as you wait for him by the door.
The two of you are already thirty minutes late to Erwin’s going away party, the last car waiting to take the two of you, Marco, and Annie out to the little soiree that Erwin is throwing for himself - in celebration of him being killed off.
“Sorry, sorry. Looking for my bracelet.” he responds, darting back and forth from different corners of the room.
“Well, hurry up. Annie’s getting pissed.”
“I found yours! But where is mine?”
You look down at your wrist to find the pink beads on your wrist, spelling out your name against your pulse point in your wrist.
“Oops, sorry. I’m wearing yours.” you respond.
Eren’s quick to walk over to where you’re standing on the door - giving you enough time to groan at how haphazardly he got ready for the party. His tie is loose against his neck, hair all messy as you reach up to fix it.
“God, Eren. At least brush your hair.”
“Quit moving your hands.”
Eren takes his hand in yours, quickly sliding the bracelet off your wrist and switching it with the one in his hand.
“Well, get ready properly. Your tie isn’t even on right.” you respond, irritated as you reach forward to tighten the fabric and smooth down his collar.
“And if I told you I put it on wrong just so you would fix it, what would you think?”
“That you’re asking for a death sentence from Annie for wasting time.”
He rolls his eyes, reaching up to lift the hand he just placed the bracelet on. His thumb is straight against your pulse point, blood pulsating under the spot, as he lifts his hand to leave a kiss right there.
“And that it’s cute that you did that.”
He gives you a wide grin, locking your hands together as you both rush out the door.
Eren shuffles out, sitting across from you as he puts the stack of clothes between you and hikes his knees to his chest. He holds his hand out and you place the bracelet in his hand.
“You left it in the bathroom.”
You nod as you try to steady your mind - still running a hundred miles per hour and overstimulated from seeing everyone again. From how familiar it all feels, how easy it all is to fall back into this despite how different things are.
How you and Eren are miles apart, how you haven’t talked to them all in months, how Marco is dead. That Marco’s death is suspending all of you in a weird state of reality, that every angry word spoken and every bit of harshness seems miniscule now.
“Do you want me to leave?” Eren asks.
“No.” you shrug.
“Do you want to talk?”
“No.”
Eren nods, counting each of the beads on the bracelet, as you both sit there in the silence, letting your eyes float around the room as you let your mind wander.
Marco and Colt playing chess everyday when he visited you in Canada, Marco falling for every stupid joke that Connie played on him, the way you all cried when Marco died in the show, Marco at the awards show.
“Eren?”
“Yes, Y/N?”
“Do you remember the first time we kissed?”
The question takes Eren off guard. He debates it then and there - telling you the truth full and whole - on the basis that he can’t handle the way you’re looking at him. At the fact that you even asked that, at the implication that you thought he could ever forget.
“Of course. On set, in the-”
“No, no. I mean, for real.”
“At the awards show.” Eren responds, without a beat.
“Yeah.”
Eren leans forward, wrapping his hands around your neck and pressing his lips to yours. You can still feel people moving around you, setting up things for the closing part of the ceremony, but the only thing you’re paying attention to is Eren. And his lips. And the way he’s pulling you closer, like he can’t get enough of you.
When you pull apart, you’re both panting, smiling at each other.
“Thank god. If I got cock-blocked from kissing you a third time, I was actually going to commit a murder.”
“You want me so bad.” you say, sarcastically.
“Obviously.”
You both smile and turn to the left, to a very smiley Marco staring at you two. And then you cringe, remembering that you and Eren are literally backstage and there’s like seven people who just watched you suck face. Marco walks up, wrapping his arms around both of you and hugging hard.
“I love you guys.”
“Marco. Don’t-” Eren starts.
“I’m not going to tell anyone. You need time to figure whatever is going on, without Connie and and Sasha up your ass the entire time. But I’m really, really happy for you.”
“Really, Marco?” you ask, leaning into Eren’s touch.
“It’s always been you guys. You guys better not break up or else I’ll come hunt both of you down. And if I’m dead, I’ll come back to life just to haunt you guys.”
“Do you think he’s haunting us?”
Eren frowns, the memory refreshing in his head. One he thought of a few days ago, lingering on the fact that Marco’s probably turning in grave right now. Granted, Marco was very vehement about his stance on you two - your interview and what Eren did, making Marco so agonizingly and uncharacteristically angry that it bothers him now.
For not listening to him. That if he does ever get to cross that bridge with you, at least be your friend again, that Marco won’t ever know.
“I just don’t understand why you won’t just go out there and tell her. You know where she lives.” Marco states, irritated.
“Because I just can’t, Marco! You watched the interview!”
“The entire song was about how she forgave you. How she isn’t holding a grudge against you. And-and the way she was talking about it, some part of her knows that other people had something to do with this, Eren. She knows deep down.”
“The interview was fucking horrible. This entire thing, this thing that I did, fucked her up so bad that she isn’t even doing this anymore. This was all she wanted, ever since she was a kid, she-she was so determined and she gave it up because I said all those things, because I did what I did.”
“Eren. It’s more compl-”
“No, it’s not. And she fucking hates me. You should have seen how upset she was at the awards show…..I-I ruined it for her. I ruined her entire dream, Marco.”
“God, Eren. Your tunnel vision is insane. You’re not even giving her a fighting chance when she doesn’t even know the truth!” he says.
“Maybe haunting is too mean of a word. I think he’d be happy to see us together, right now. Even if the circumstances aren’t the best.” he responds.
You smile, giving him a nod.
“He always did like playing cupid, didn’t he?”
“At the engagement party, he walked around telling everyone that Jean and Mikasa were only dating because of him.”
“That’s a lie.” you state.
“No one believed him.” Eren responds.
The two of you fall into silence again, resting your chins on your knees, as more thoughts swim through your head, pain so palpable it’s sitting in your chest. That if Marco were here, he’d be prancing in and giving you two devious smirks, lovingly teasing both of you. Pulling both of you aside, saying that bygones should be bygones if you still love each other.
You look up at him, watch his eyes flutter open and close, as he fidgets with his hands.
You still love him.
“Can we be civil for the weekend? Like…like you’re not Eren and I’m not Y/N, we’re just-” you sutter.
Your question falls short, hanging in the air as you watch the gears in Eren’s head turn.
“I just mean. So many things happened between us. And I know there’s hurt there, on your part and maybe mine too, but…..I don’t want us to be mad at each other at the funeral. Or after.”
You swallow hard.
“I’d hate for one of us to die being mad at each other. Without having talked in years.” you whisper.
Eren gets it. The guilt that must be wracking you for not talking to Marco, when you were one of the people who was closest to him. He reaches forward, taking your hand in his, as he fidgets with your fingers.
“He knows you loved him, Y/N.”
He watches the tears pour down your eyes, face pink and eyes swollen, as you talk.
“Did he? Because I ignored his texts. For years. He texted me happy birthday, asked how Falco was doing, wanted to know if I watched Halloweentown on October first like I always do, if I was happy, if I wanted to talk and-”
He squeezes your hand, pulling out his phone, as he scoots to the space next to you. He tries to still the pounding of his heart as you lace your arm through his, leaning your head against his.
“He knows, Y/N.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I was with him. I talked to him quite often after….after everything that happened. I promise you, he knows you loved him.”
You shake your head, guilt sitting in your head.
“I have something for you.” he murmurs.
“What is it?”
“It’s from a few years ago. I think he was really, really drunk.”
He hands you his phone, open to a voicemail from Marco, as you wipe the tears on your phone and press play. His voice comes through the speaker booming and giggling and hiccuping as he talks.
“Eren. Eren! Fuck, I love you so much dude. You’re-you’re such a guy. Like I-I just see you and think hmmmm. That’s a guy. Are you with Y/N? Tell her I love her. She’s my best friend. You’re all my best friends. I’m so happy I got to grow up with all of you. Oh, Connie just threw up on the floor, oh Connie- hey, stop! Okay, love you brother, I have to go.”
The voice cuts off abruptly, as you laugh.
“Never could hold his drink, could he?”
“Not everyone can be alcoholics like Jean and Mikasa.”
You both laugh, chest aching from how familiar, how soft this feels. That you’re both sitting in this room, where you grew up, fell in love, slept next to each other every night. Eren can see the tears welling in your eyes, thinking of his best efforts to stop it, at whatever is plaguing your mind.
“So. You said you’re not Y/N and I’m not Eren. So who are we?” he asks.
“I meant that metaphorically, you’re-”
You watch Eren’s eyes flit around his room, scanning till he stops around his bookshelf, and turns back to glance at you.
“Your new name is Margaret.”
“Ew. And I didn’t mean it like that, Eren.”
“Who is Eren? My name is….” he responds, giving you a smile as he elongagates the syllables waiting for your response.
You roll your eyes.
“Bruce. Your name is Bruce.”
“Bruce Wayne!”
“No. Not like Bruce Wayne. Think of someone really boring. Irritating, agitating.”
“Perfect! I’ll just think of you after five shots of tequila.”
You both laugh as Eren stands up, holding a hand out to pull you up. He sets the stack of clothes in your hand as he makes a move to walk out of the room. Except he hangs on the door for a second, voice soft when he talks.
“Does Bruce have permission to say something?”
“Sure.”
“I know he technically just met Margaret because she was born a minute ago, but he missed her. A lot.”
You feel your cheeks burn as you give him a nod, murmuring a quiet me too before sinking into the bathroom to slip his clothes on.
Connie, does in fact, not give up the mattress. Jean and Eren begrudgingly share as you and Mikasa cuddle into the night.
--
You wake up first, to find Mikasa sprawled over your entire frame. Her entire body is burning hot and you send a silent prayer to the world's strongest soldier, Jean Kirschtein, for putting up with this for so long. After you all but free yourself from her grasp, you spare a quick glance to see Jean must be smothering Eren more than Mikasa was you and silently muse that the two of them truly are made for each other.
You pad down to the kitchen, yanking the hood of Eren’s hoodie over your head, to find Connie sitting at the table, scribbling away in a journal, a steaming bowl of oatmeal next to him.
“Good morning, Con.’”
He looks up, one of his hands going instinctively to cover what he was writing as you take the seat next to him, crossing your legs up on the chair. He immediately relaxes, giving you a bright smile.
“Good morning, princess. You can have some if you want.”
“No, no. I don’t want to impose.”
“What’s mine is yours.” he says, mimicking Eren’s voice.
You snort, reaching for his spoon, as you take a bite of the warm food, soothing the stiffness in your throat.
“Sleep well?” he asks.
“Mikasa basically strangled me all night.”
“Ew. Of course she has the cuddle bug. I swear, Jean and Mikasa were always goo goo ga ga, but they’re even worse now.”
“They’re getting married, Connie. It’s sweet.”
He smiles, sliding the string through the pages, as he turns to you giving you a smile.
“Yeah. It is sweet.” he responds, voice quiet.
Connie swallows hard, eyes weary as he turns to you.
“I want to apologize.” Connie says.
The elephant in the room. He’s the first one to touch it.
“Oh. That’s okay, I under-”
“No, no. It’s not okay.” he responds, tone almost harsh.
You and Armin share a look the second he breaks the frame, glass shattering over the length of Armin’s apartment.
“Why the fuck would you guys bring me here?” Connie asks, sweat beading his forehead.
From the way he’s moving, all erratic and nonsensical, it makes you think that it’s out of his system. That if Connie had a chance, this would be when he would sneak off to the bathroom to get his fix. But he’s nowhere near that, instead settled into Armin’s tiny New York apartment, screaming at the two of you.
“Connie. You asked us too.” you respond.
“I was fucking high! Why would you guys even entertain a word I said?” Connie states, voice even more agitated now.
“Connie. You…you need help. We looked at some rehab places while you were asleep and-”
“Rehab? I’m not going to rehab. Are you trying to ruin my fucking career, Armin?”
“No, but we want to make sure you’re okay. They’ll be discrete, we’ll make sure the security detail is good so that you can be better and-”
“I am fucking fine. Do I look like I need help?”
You and Armin share a weary glance, before looking back at him.
“Connie. We love you. We-we just want to help you, okay?” you say.
“Does it ever embarrass you when you do this, Y/N?” Connie says, voice laced with venom.
“Sorry?”
“Does you not think it’s embarrassing to beg like this in front of people who don’t fucking care about you the way you do about them? I figured that Eren putting you in your place like that would set you straight but it seems like you didn’t learn your lesson, did you?”
You swallow hard, eyes and skin burning as Connie waits for your response.
“You don’t mean that. You-you’re just mad because you can’t be high right now.” you murmur.
“Am I, Y/N? Or is it true?”
“It’s not true. This isn’t you, Connie.”
“God, Y/N. Wake the fuck up. We aren’t fifteen anymore. No ones sitting here holding your hand telling you that you’ll be the best anymore. I get that you need that ego boost to move forward but I sure as hell am not going to be the one to give it to you.”
“Connie, that’s enough-”
Connie swallows hard, eyes focused on his fingers as he talks.
“I know-I know that I said it wasn’t true. But I really did say all of those things because I was high. Or because I wanted to be high and was in withdrawal and-”
“I know that, Connie. I’ve never held it against you.”
He frowns, twisting his pen to his fingers.
“You always give grace even when you don’t know the whole story. Me, Hisu, Eren.” he murmurs.
“You deserve it…and I partially knew. I mean, addiction is a disease. It hurt at first but that wasn’t your fault. You just needed to be treated and helped and I’m glad you did.”
He smiles, resting his cheek against his hand.
“Thank you, Y/N. Don’t mind me if I spend the rest of my life asking for forgiveness. I won’t ever feel like I deserve it but I’ll keep asking anyway.” he murmurs.
“I’ll always give it to you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder.
You silently wonder that if you ever did come back, sans funeral, if things would be like this. If you and Eren could pretend, if Mikasa and Jean could look past it all. Because some parts of it, they feel earnest, truthful. But you can’t tell if you’re all suspended in some disbelief, clouded by your grief and trying to cling onto one of the things Marco loved most. His time on the show, with you all.
“Honey when I’m above the trees, I SEE IT FOR WHAT IT IS.” Connie sings, screams.
“Oh my god, Connie.” you deadpan.
He’s singing happiness. Like the happiness you sang in your interview, when you forgave Eren.
“THERE’LL BE HAPPINESS AFTER YOU. BUT THERE WAS HAPPINESS BECAUSE OF YOUUUU. BOTH OF THESE THINGS CAN BE TRUE, THERE IS HAPPINESS.”
You clamp your hand flat against his mouth, trying not to snicker, as he continues to sing underneath your hand.
“Are you insane? They’re all sleeping.” you whisper.
“Not anymore we’re not.” Ymir responds, immediately smacking Connie against the head.
“You’re going to give Eren a nightmare, Connie.” Historia mutters, dragging her feet into the kitchen as Ymir follows.
“I’m already living it.” Eren grumbles, leaning against the counter as he splits a PopTart with Jean.
Slowly but surely, every one of them shuffles down to the room, the deja vu of the situation hitting deep as each person follows suit. Sasha ambles down after a few minutes, finishing off the bowl of oatmeal that you and Connie were sharing while Reiner and Bertholdt murmur quietly over the coffee cup. Eren’s in hushed conversation with Jean and Mikasa, fixing himself breakfast, as Hange and Levi wander into the room, immediately thrown off by all of you in there.
“Jesus.” Levi says, tone exasperated.
“Good morning, Levi.” Mikasa says, gesturing to the water boiling on the kettle for his tea. He gives her a grateful smile, taking a seat in his corner as Hange talks to the group of you. Connie’s resorted to cracking all of your knuckles since his are all worn out as they go on.
“Good morning kiddos!”
“Don’t….do such a cheery voice, Hange.” Levi says, sighing.
Hange’s smile falters, before dropping all together, and giving a thoughtful nod. Eren shuffles over to your side, taking the seat next to yours as he places a steaming bowl of ramen in front of you.
“Oh. Thank you, Eren.”
“Who?”
You roll your eyes as Eren smiles, reaching forward to flick your cheek.
“Bruce.”
“Bruce, indeed.” he responds.
Eren knows he’s in treacherous waters. That this line you’ve drawn, that you’re not you and he’s not himself, works almost too well for Eren’s purposes. That he can pretend, in earnest, that none of the things he said happened. That you and him are just as you always were, untouched in the bubble you were always in when you lived here. .
“The funeral is tomorrow, as we all know. The Bodt’s have requested that we get there ten minutes before the service, so be on time tomorrow. Bertholdt, Sasha, I’m looking at both of you. ”
You all nod, humming in response, as you start digging into the bowl, switching off with Connie and Sasha who are both trying to monopolize the only real food in a five feet radius.
“That being said…” Hange says, swallowing hard.
They’re pacing back and forth almost, teetering on their ankles, when they talk. And when they finish explaining - autopsy report in hand and the gut punch sticking in your chest - you all sit there, blankly staring.
And wander in silence for the rest of the day.
It was one thing that Marco died. And an entirely different one that he was killed.
--
“Someone go get Eren, we only have thirty minutes.” Levi says, everyone lingering in the kitchen and the living room, in a sea of black.
Almost everyone is here now - Erwin, Armin, even Eren’s parents - all lingering around as you wait to head to the funeral. You give a curt nod to Levi and march out to the pavement, pebbles crunching under your feet as you make your way to set.
Eren’s been in there since last night, never retreating to the room to change into his pajamas before he settled down on the couch downstairs. Despite your protests, he refuses to sleep in the same room as you. Or let you sleep anywhere else besides Jean’s old bed in his room.
You let the pebbles crunch under your feet, ignoring the sting as you pass the tandem bike, and slip onto the set. You can see new costumes designs printed against the walls, storyboards with Levi and Hange’s handwriting on them as you make your way to the back towards the piano.
When you see him, that rage, simmering warm in your stomach over the past twenty-four hours, the deep-seated pain of Marco dying alone, crying out for help, comes to a head when you see Eren. Because he’s sitting at the bench, with his book propped up against the stand, and a bottle of pills in his hands.
You march up to where he’s standing, crossing your hands across your chest as you all but glare at him.
“Oh. Hey, you look-”
“Are you serious?”
You watch his face scrunch up in confusion, that stupid look on his face aggravating you even more. His tie is unkempt, his hair is messy - he’s always so haphazard with these things.
“You’re doing pills in here before Marco’s funeral. Are you fucking serious?”
He looks down, at the bottle in his hand and stands up, and swallows hard when he looks at you.
“Wait-”
“No. No, for once, you’re going to listen to me. You-you’re sick. Marco’s dead. You can’t even give it to him to be fully there while we say goodbye? This means that much to you?” you spit, watching him shut his eyes.
“Y/N.”
“How could you do this? To him? To me?”
He reaches forward, hands on your shoulders as he squeezes, and your eyes burn like acid. And every feeling, building up over the past few days, comes tumbling out.
“Why did he have to leave us, Eren? We didn’t get enough time with him. He was only twenty-four, he didn't even get to grow old. He was supposed to die, years from now, so happy, so-so surrounded by people he loved.”
Eren forgoes the rational thought. He reaches forward fully, snaking his arms around you as he cradles your head into his frame, trying his best to stifle your cries into his shoulder.
“And you. He would hate that you were doing this. I hate that you’re doing this. You-you don’t have to. There are other things that can make you happy or-or fix whatever it is that’s wrong.”
“Y/N.”
“What, Eren?”
He pulls back, reaching for the pill bottle, and placing it in the palm of your hand. You read the label, immediately embarrassed and ashamed of your reaction.
Eren Jaeger
*Lexapro 5 mg
Take one tablet by mouth with the morning meal.
“Oh my god, Eren. I’m so sorry, I-”
You pull back, sitting down on the bench, as you dig your fingers into your temples, trying to stop that pulsating feeling under your skin. The rage, the feeling, coursing through you so hard that you can’t even pick what you’re mad at.
You’re breathing panic in and out, chest heaving, as Eren takes a seat next to you, leaning his elbows on his knees. And the feeling, it lands on feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed. Because Eren’s not doing drugs, he’s taking anti-anxiety pills.
“Eren. I’m so sorry. That was so horrible of me, I thought it was-”
“You thought it was like Connie.” he finishes
“Yeah. And I’m sorry for assuming, I just-”
“I’m not mad at you. You were just trying to take care of me. I appreciate it.”
You groan, embarrassment still coursing through you, as you lean your forehead straight against the piano, the smell of the ink on Eren’s book permeating your nose.
“Do you remember that birthday party of mine I told you about? When I was ten, at my old house in New York? It was when we were in Australia.”
You nod.
“I remember feeling it. A paralyzing block in my chest, like I couldn’t move. And when I was able to move, it was only because it all came rushing to me, so panicked, so fast that I-I didn’t even register what happened.”
He was barely even ten. You lift your hands to his shoulders, squeezing hard, as he continues.
You’re here and you’ve got him.
“I didn’t tell anyone. I thought something was wrong with me. I thought that people feel this way, that it’s normal, but I just felt too much of it. That I just can’t handle things the way normal people do.”
You frown, reaching up to cup the side of his face. Your fingers brush over his dimples, soft under your fingers, as you talk.
“Eren. There is nothing wrong with you. That’s just an anxiety attack.” you whisper.
You’re not sure what it is about what you said but when you look up, there are soft tears flowing down Eren’s cheek, the voice coming out of his mouth so garbled you can barely understand what he’s saying.
“Hey, Eren.” you whisper,
“No. No, no. Stop.”
Eren stands up, retreating to the other side of the piano, where he’s leaning over, his entire frame heaving up and down as you walk to his side.
“Why are you-”
“I don’t want you to help me. You shouldn’t be helping me.” he says, his voice shuddering.
“Why not?” you ask, frowning.
“I’ve been horrible to you. I don’t deserve your help. You-you should be cussing me out, so mad that you can’t stand me, that you want me to suffer and you’re not. And it’s agonizing for me that you aren’t.”
You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around him from the back, as you feel him sigh. You lean your cheek flat against his shoulder, squeezing as hard as you can as Eren continues to cry, fists clenched so tight on the piano that white.
“You’re not you and I’m not me. We agreed on that.” you murmur.
“Y/N. We can’t-”
“Who?”
He snickers, amidst his tears, as he turns around, and you slot your arms under his. You can feel his heart thumping under your ear, loud and fast, as you place your hand over the spot. The two of you stay that way for some time, Eren's tears falling onto you, as you try your best to remedy whatever it is that's burning inside of him.
“Just calm down and breathe. Falco says it always helps to talk about something else, when he feels like this.”
He tenses at the mention of Falco, which you realize was a mistake.
“Why were you in here?” you ask.
“The Bodt’s asked me to write a song for the service.”
The perfect distraction.
“Can you sing it for me?” you ask.
He looks down, green eyes - full and round - as he nods, shuffling towards the piano bench as you take the seat next to him. You can see that the lyrics are scribbled on the book resting against the stand, the paper stiff from blotches of Eren’s tears. He starts playing the piano, his voice echoing on the walls of the set.
And if I didn't know better
I'd think you were talking to me now
If I didn't know better
I'd think you were still around
What died didn't stay dead
What died didn't stay dead
You're alive, you're alive in my head
What died didn't stay dead
What died didn't stay dead
You're alive, so alive
You rest your hands against the keys next to his, slowly following his pace, as he continues to sing, the hum of his voice filling the air. You can’t help but think it. That he’s beautiful. That this is your Eren, miles away from whoever he was when you saw him last.
I should've asked you questions
I should've asked you how to be
Asked you to write it down for me
Should've kept every grocery store receipt
'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me
You can feel the tears flowing down your cheeks now, straight onto the piano keys and your hands, as you cry.
And if I didn't know better
I'd think you were singing to me now
If I didn't know better
I'd think you were still around
I know better
But I still feel you all around
I know better
But you're still around
When you and Eren get to the service, you walk hand in hand to the piano. And play the song together, for Marco and Marco only.
--
You knock on the door, padding into the room to find Levi, hunched over his computer and leaning his hand on his cheek. You take the seat next to him, crossing your legs against the chair, as he looks over at you, expressionless.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.” you say.
Four days after the funeral and all of them have cleared out. Forced to go back to wherever they were before, to push down the beating pain and move forward. The grief, perhaps it did suspend reality for the rest of you. Leave you to pretend that nothing that happened was real, that you were still teenagers running around on this set together.
That wasn’t how it was for Levi. Because in almost a week of being there, he had yet to talk to you with a straight face.
“What are you working on, Levi?” you ask, cracking your knuckles.
He turns the laptop towards you, one of the old hard drives from the earlier seasons pulled up on his computer. He plays the video, one of Jean sitting in a chair behind the green backdrop.
“Okay, Jean. Tell me your goal for the end of the show.” Levi asks.
The video, Jean must be barely sixteen, wearing one of the old costumes from season one. You remember now, that Hange was insistent on documenting everything - that you all were going to grow up so fast that they should keep videos. Obviously, Hange is too disorganized to do it themselves, so Levi bit the bullet and did it for them.
“I don’t know. That’s so far away, Levi.” he groans, scrunching up his forehead.
“Just answer, Jean. Where do you see yourself at the end of the show, when you’re in your twenties?”
“With Mikasa.” he responds.
You both smile as Levi switches to the next videos, the two of you watching all of them in silence.
“I want to be myself. That’s all I want to be, not embarrassed or ashamed, I-I just want to be me.” Historia says, smiling into the camera.
“I don’t know. That’s a weird question, Levi.” Mikasa grumbles, glaring at him.
“You’re horrible, Mikasa. Jean said he wants to be with you.” Levi responds.
“Well, that’s a given. Of course, I’m going to be with Jean.” she responds, giving one last eye roll to the camera.
“Doing something important. That means something to people.” Connie responds.
You swallow hard, as you see Eren, fifteen and so smiley, as he crawlsl onto the little stool.
“My turn?” Eren asks, giving Levi a bright smile.
“Yes, kid. Your turn. Why else would you be sitting here?”
“Okay. This is a secret so don’t tell anyone.” he says.
“I’m not broadcasting to a news channel, Eren. Just hurry up, I still have to get through half of you.”
Eren nods, reaching up to fix his hair, before he talks - his voice filled with that confident resolve, that one he always sported when he was fifteen.
“I want to get the Best Actor in a Lead role award. And on the same night, I want Y/N to become a triple threat. And then I want us to tell her that I told her so. Me and her, at the top.” he says, giving the camera a bright smile, before jumping off.
The next one is of you, what you said being entirely lost to you in your memories.
“What do I want to do when I'm in my twenties? Hm.” you echo.
“Today would be nice.” Levi deadpans.
“Well, I don’t know! That’s so broad. I want to be doing stuff like this. Acting, making music, To have people enjoy the work I make, and making it with my friends, like Eren and Mikasa and Armin. I want to be here, more than anything. It feels so right to me, that I get to do this. It’s special, it’s a privilege and I’m really thankful I get to do it.”
“Note to anyone watching. This is one of our only kids with manners.” Levi says, setting the camera down to give you a hug.
You bite down on your cheek, looking over at Levi, as he plays the last one. Of Marco.
“Okay, Marco. What do you want to do when you’re in your twenties?”
“Well. I know what I’m going to be doing.” Marco says, crossing his arms against his chest.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“See. Spoiler alert, but Hange and Levi just killed me off this show. But we made a deal. That I get to be in each season, even if its a super minor role like a flashback or whatever. So in my twenties, I’ll be here. Surrounded by all my childhood best friends, making this show that’s always meant so much to us.”
You swallow hard as Levi wraps his arms around you, the two of you watching Marco’s smiley face disappear from the screen.
“So I’ll see you in four months? For season four?”
“Damn right you will.” you respond.
And for the first time in a week, Levi breaks a smile.
“Good.”
--
next part linked here
an, again: SEASON FOUR ERA (this shit abt to be so awkward when they're not all sad/grieving )
taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly-y-blog @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi
#seeingivywrites!#method acting#eren#eren x you#eren x reader#eren x y/n#eren jaeger#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger x y/n#eren yeager#eren yeager x you#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager x y/n#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan x you#attack on titan x y/n#aot#aot x you#aot x reader#aot x y/n#snk#snk x you#snk x reader#snk x y/n#aot actor au#actor eren#actor eren x reader#actor eren x you
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hello! i’d like to request a very sad gojo angst, based on billie eilish’s song “what was i made for?” like reader could be having a self doubt moment??? if she’s good enough for satoru (you can do the same thing you did as to that one gojo angst you did! where gojo was healing from geto’s death) thank you ! ^__^
it’s not what he’s made for (satoru g.) !
features: satoru gojo
contents: crying. implied death and injury. grief. basic jjk triggers. feeling useless. feeling not enough. feeling ashamed. failing to protect people. perceived judgment. heartbreak. hiding things from partners. hurt with comfort for once. angst. 1k words.
notes: idk how i feel about this, so lmk if it's not what you want and i can try it again :)
you can’t help but notice the way satoru gojo stiffens the second he sees raw emotion being expressed. it’s something you find out before you even begin dating him. you can practically feel the discomfort radiating off of him when he sees another sorcerer cry at their partner’s death.
it was at that moment you vowed to yourself to never cry in front of him. but that was a while ago, and you were no longer in a shallow friendship with him: you were in love.
but you couldn’t shake that fear that if you ever showed vulnerability to him, he would regard you with that same disgust. it was irrational, you knew that, but it still lingered in the back of your mind.
even now, as you feel your heart actively cracking in your chest as yet another sorcerer is slain under your care, you just choke down the tears until satoru leaves the room. the inside of your bottom lip is bitten raw from how many times you’ve clamped your mouth shut to ward off sobs of agony.
with a cursed technique like yours, every mission comes with a lot of survivor’s guilt. protector’s promise: a cursed technique that grants you a stats and cursed energy boost based on the strength difference between you and your allies. even more so when your allies are weaker than the opponent. you also get a boost from non-sorcerers being in the immediate area
alone, you are a low-grade one. but with a group weaker than you, it skyrockets to high-grade one or even to special grade. as such, you are often paired up with sorcerers fresh out of training, or even those still in it.
the higher-ups treat you as a way to weed out weak sorcerers, all while boosting your own powers and giving your obscenely hard missions. because you also receive a boost if your allies are injured or killed. it’s one of the most heart-breaking things a sorcerer can experience; to have a partner die. and you lose at least one nearly every mission.
with no outlet in satoru, you find yourself sobbing alone or with shoko. she knows how satoru is, just as well as you, having been his classmate and friend for ten years. that’s why you should’ve expected this.
when she picks up the phone, you speak immediately. “shoko, i’m sad again, don’t tell my boyfriend… it’s not what he’s made for.” you hear shuffling on the other line and protests from her before a familiar voice rings in your ear. “y/n, it is what i’m made for. now, come home, we need to talk.” then, the line clicks.
you feel your heart break, he doesn’t think you trust him. he’s mad. he’s upset. he’s disgusted. the thoughts spiral as fat tears fall down your cheeks, opening the door.
there stands satoru, arms crossed and his lips pursed. the blindfold he usually wore was hung loosely around his neck, forcing you to look straight into his baby blues. the second your eyes meet his, your facade crumbles.
with a choked sob, you fall onto your knees, crumbling like sand. but you never hit the ground, strong arms slip under your arms and around your back. the side of your face pressed against his jujutsu-uniform jacket. his other arm slips under your knees as he picks you up as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, kicking the door closed.
satoru sits on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as he holds your so tenderly. a part of you feels guilty and stupid for thinking that he would ever be disgusted with you. you had never seen satoru gojo handle anyone with this much care, touch feather-light with the strength of love.
“why haven’t you told me you felt this way, do you not trust me..?” his words come out in a whisper, voice shaking ever so slightly. at that moment, you feel like the worst person in the world for making him think that. your hands cup his face as you look towards him with your teary eyes, desperately shaking your head.
“satoru, no, i trust you so much, more than anyone-”
“then why?”
your words catch in your throat, shame burning and pooling in your gut as you decide whether or not to tell him that it was because of some silly face he made years ago. worry surges again before being dissipated by his forehead pressing against yours.
a deep breath in, then you speak. “i didn’t want you to think i was weak…” in that instant you see his face soften, likely connecting the dots himself.
he’s gentle as he presses your face into the crook of his neck, arms winding around your back. his words come out faintly against your ear, breath lightly tickling your skin. “i’m sorry i made you feel that way, you’re not weak. you’re strong, much stronger than me in this regard.” he feels you smile against his skin and he chuckles, rocking side to side with you in his arms as if nothing else in this world mattered more.
you can’t help but feel like a fool for ever thinking that satoru gojo would look upon you with disgust for anything: especially not for some tears. not when he looks at you like you’re the world when you do any little thing. not when he whispers such sweet nothings to you at any opportunity. not when he holds you so desperately close when there is any sort of chance.
you can’t help but be forced to realize the strength in which satoru gojo loves. the love that is exclusive to you and you alone.
okkotsuus 23
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen angst#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo angst#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru angst#satoru#satoru x reader#satoru angst#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo
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OH MY LORD PLEASE DO MORE ABOUT STONER BAKUSQUAD THAT WAS 'mwah' chefs kiss
xoxoxooxox thank you sm if you do xoxooxox
Omgg yesss I love stoner bakusquad. Tyy for the request loveeee
.·:*¨¨*:·. 𖣁 .·:*¨¨*:·.
Part 2 of this
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Summary: reader and quirkless au!Bakusquad are stoners
Pairings: platonic!katsuki bakugou x gn!bisexual!reader, platonic!Eijiro Kirishima x gn!bi!reader, platonic!pan!Denki Kaminari x gn!bi!reader, platonic!plug!hanta sero x gn!bi!reader, platonic!bi!mina ashido x gn!bi!reader, Eijiro Kirishima x bi!mina ashido, past!Hanta sero x bi!mina ashido, pan!Denki Kaminari x bi!plug!hitoshi Shinso
Warnings: language, Marijuana duh, vaping, alcohol, making out, shrooms, OF, masturbation, etc.
A/n: I was personally geeked writing part 1, so I forgot to actually include the vaping part lol. If you don’t know who Harold and kumar are, watch the movies.
༺♡︎༻
Ok so to start off, Sero’s day/night Job is deejaying. He’s actually really good at it. A lot of people would think this job would go to Denki but nope.
Speaking of Denki, he actually is a streamer. He reacts to people’s videos and plays horror games. He plays a lot of Roblox too.
Bakugou likes Sam & Colby. He’s liked them since trap boys. Honestly his favorite trap boy is Corey tho.
When Mina drinks she gets the spins really bad and throws up. Every single time. Without hesitation.
Denki cries sometimes when he’s drunk.
Kirishima greened out at the first smoke sesh.
Mina is seriously super horny when she messed up. She even convinced bakugou to make out with her while he was super stoned
Denki started vaping when you guys were in sophomore year, he eventually put u all on.
Bakugou had to bail Sero out of jail once, Sero was pulled over while he was making a delivery
Mina makes Kirishima take her to concerts, he trip sits her while she takes shrooms
Sero likes to watch cartoon network and adult swim when he’s stoned
Eventually, Shinso and Denki get together. You all excepted Shinso practically immediately, and invited him to the smoke seshs
Mina buys pink joint papers. The guys hate when she rolls up with them, except for Denki he loves them<3
Mina has an only fans. She isn’t embarrassed by it either. Denki has also watched her videos while jerking off
During smoke sesh’s you guys like to watch South Park. Sero likes to laugh and compare bakugou to cartman.
Sero has a unhealthy amount of bongs
Kirishima is the designated driver for after the hangouts. Whoever doesn’t just sleepover, he gives a ride.
Kirishima always makes a crap ton of snack when him and Mina host. Mina doesn’t like hosting tho.
Depending on how high bakugou is, he will let you play with his hair. It’s actually so soft.
Denki and Sero almost got kidnapped by Sero’s plug one time. It was Denki’s fault, he tried to still the guy’s knife.
Sero loves Shinso’s cat especially when he’s stoned he says he’s the group scooby doo. Shinso is forced to bring muffins(the cat) every time
Shinso also sells weed so Sero claims they’re competitors
Denki is so girly with his vapes it’s funny. Like this boy will kill for a minty Hyde. He also always has to tear apart his bed just to find the shit.
I think everybody agree and say bakugou and kirishima drink whiskey. Grown ahh ahh men💀
Bakugou literally will catnap when he is baked. He likes to sleep with his head on your thighs
Kirishima always brings blunt wraps since you and Denki always forgets to buy them. Baby boy kiri is a angel🥹😇
Reach in Sero’s couch cushions and you will find a kingdom of lighters
Denki says him and Sero are Harold And Kumar. Denki and you love those movies.
Sero’s kitchen is stocked on all your favorite foods and drinks.
༺♡︎༻
Not Proofread!
#my hero academia#katsuki bakugo mha#mha denki#mha x reader#kirishima eijiro x reader#bakusquad#stoner!bakusquad#mina ashido x reader#mina ashido#plug!hanta sero#sero hanta x reader#kirimina#shinkami#plug!hitoshi Shinso#denki kaminari#denki x reader#kirishima eijirou#sero hanta
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dead man walking
PAIRING: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 5k
WARNINGS: language, kidnapping, torture, graphic violence, hurt/comfort, sort of asshole!joel, protective!ellie, please let me know if I missed anything!
The lights that hung above you in your cell flickered again for the seventh time in the past twenty minutes. A new guard walks by and shakes hands with the woman who’s been watching you as of yesterday; they exchange a couple of words, take a glance at you, and snicker as one leaves and one takes the others place on the wooden chair.
You huff in your cold corner of the cell and burrow deeper into yourself, looking away so maybe you can forget that you’re here at all and not at home.
The memory of being torn out of sleep and out of your bed by cruel and harsh hands plagues your mind. The laughter that spilled from their lips when you screamed and kicked and scratched, but to no avail. You can only imagine the image created for Ellie when she came home from her night patrol early in the morning; bed sheets and pillows thrown on the floor torn and shredded, scratch marks all the way down the hallway from your fingernails, picture frames knocked off the walls and broken on the floor, particularly of Ellie. You don’t want to imagine how she might feel, the dread that she might have lost another person in her life with no goodbye.
You do everything you can not to cry.
“What’s the matter with you, stay quiet!” The new guard, a scruffy looking male with blonde hair tied into a bun, bangs the metal bars that hold you inside.
Despite your better judgement, you respond with, “What are you gonna do if I don’t, shoot me?”
He chuckles and turns away from you, “If it were up to me, I’d do much worse.”
That scares you more than you wish it did, so you stay quiet the rest of the night. Your mind wouldn’t let you rest, so you didn’t get a wink of sleep; but the asshole watching you did. As you watched him sleep, you imagined getting out of here somehow, taking him out before he could even know what hit him, and getting back to Ellie before she could even worry. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in your cards, so you huffed and tried to fall asleep.
...
“Damn, I cannot believe how much weed we found!” Dina laughs loudly.
“Yeah, I swear I haven’t found that much since that snowstorm with Y/N,” Ellie smiles at the thought.
Ellie and Dina trudge across the gravel towards the house you share with the two girls and Jesse. As much as Ellie wanted a house to you and herself alone, she had to admit it was fun living with her two closest friends as well; only when they weren’t getting it on in the middle of the night that is.
“God, I remember that day. When you finally grew some balls an-”
“Oh shut up, we were a thing before that!”
“You sure about that? If I recall correctly, you had only thought that-”
Ellie shoved her arm, “Do I really have to beat you to shut your damn mouth?”
“Ya’ know, I’d love that-”
The two friends got their argument shut down as soon as they approached the porch steps of the house; a terrified looking Jesse barges out the door.
“Dude, what the hell-!” The girls say in unison, but immediately stiffen at Jesses next words.
“She’s gone.”
“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone.” Ellie shoves him aside, ignoring his pleas not to go inside. Her eyes scan the house frantically, her body moving before she could even think, checking every room and only finding more terror.
“Oh my god.” Dina’s face looks like she can’t even fathom what happened, and Jesse is only staring at Ellie. She’s gone rigid, a stone cold look appearing in her eye as she catches sight of the smashed up picture frames, the scratches on the walls, and he knows she’s flipped the switch. They don’t argue and only follow Ellie as she storms out of the house, an aura of rage surrounding her as she went.
“We know who did this right?” Dina asks.
“Yeah, we know alright,” Ellie responds harshly, “and we’re gonna kill those sons of bitches like we should’ve.”
…
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Ah shit,” you mutter, abruptly pulled out of your sleep (once again). Your hand flies to your face to cover the bright sun burning directly into your eyes.
“Wakey, wakey!” You hear laughter and rude mutterings coming from outside your cell. You can only imagine the state you must be in right now, but you open your eyes and examine your kidnappers in front of you.
Three guys and two girls, all standing there staring at you.
“What the hell do you want.” You try asserting a dominating tone, but you don’t think it comes across as bossy as you would have hoped.
“What do we want?” The blonde dude who was watching you last night laughs at that, and is quickly followed by the rest of them. “Sweetheart-”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” You snap.
He chuckles, crouching to the floor on the other side of the bars.
“Okay, honey. What we want... is a nice chat.”
You glare at them, “The fuck for?”
“Ellie Williams.” One of the girls behind him says. You think it was the redhead one, but you’re not quite sure. The other girl, the brunette, stands there leaning against the wall.
Ellie? You think. What does she have to do with this?
You huff out a laugh as best you can, “Right, and you think I’m gonna tell you anything?”
Blondie smiles, “I know you will. And you wanna know how I know that?”
You glare and don’t say a word.
“Because I know you know who I am.” Suddenly, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head and throws it to the floor. You watch him in confusion as he pulls his sleeve up and up… and…
Oh shit.
“Yeah. You know who I am.” He smiles, but this one, this one is not like the last one. It scares you so deep to your core, you almost try to flatten yourself to the wall behind you to somehow get even farther from him. “I know she would have told you. I’m glad I was right.”
“You attacked them, I don’t blame her for what she did.”
“You’re gonna talk about blame?” He hits the bars and it makes you flinch. “They came through our territory!”
“How the fuck were they supposed to know! They didn’t do shit to you until you fired on them!”
He rolls his eyes, “They knew. They saw the sign.”
“Right, like a damn sign was gonna stop them. For all they knew, the place was abandoned and that sign was years old!”
“Doesn’t matter.” A cold, dark look comes over his eyes. “Williams cut off my arm,” he gestures to the ugly scarring in the middle of his arm, with clusters of risen scar tissue on the edge of it. It looks atrocious, you wonder how he was even able to reattach it, much less use his arm for that matter.
“Well it looks like you got over that.” You mutter, but the look doesn’t leave his eye.
“And she killed my girl.”
His hands reach above him to grab onto the bars to pull him up. He stalks over to the door of the cell and unlocks it, swinging it open. His friends stiffen in anticipation.
“And now I’m gonna kill you.”
...
Joel, Tommy, and Maria were made known of your… disappearance, shortly after the others. Joel had immediately sent out a search party, but he knew what Ellie really wanted.
“No, that’s not gonna happen.”
“Joel, she’s fucking out there, I’m not sitting here-!”
“And I’m not letting you go out there! You know why they took her, right? You do realize why this happened?”
Ellie quickly straightens, mind shutting down at even the thought of it, and Dina and Jesse behind her stand to attention.
“Hey!” Dina marches up to Joel, “don’t bring that shit up. You know how hard that was.”
“Her killing that girl led to this, she has to know that-”
Dina yells, “I think she’s fucking well aware of that, Joel! And I think you should be too since she saved your damn life!”
He quiets, “Yeah, and now she’s gone.” He walks away, leaving the building as Tommy and Maria come in. They look behind them to watch Joel leave, but they walk over to the others, stopping in front of Ellie, who’s looking down at the floor.
“I know you want to go, kid, I would too, but I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. You’re gonna be their main target.” Tommy rests his hand on her shoulder, but she’s quick to shove it off.
“That’s kind of the point.”
“Ellie-”
“I don’t care,” Her voice rises, “I’m getting her back, and nobody’s stopping me.” She marches out the way they came, and Dina and Jesse sigh, following close behind her.
“Dina!” Maria calls. She whips her head back to look at her. “Watch out for her alright? Make sure she comes back with her head.”
Dina nods, “I think she plans to come back with much more than that.”
…
You scream a sharp cry of pain, whimpering at the harsh sting of the knife gliding across your skin. Your bra is soaked in blood since your shirt had been torn open so he could slice your collarbones, and you can feel the cool drip of it hitting your thighs. You lean your head back and whine, forcing yourself not to cry out again as the knife drags down the side of your arm.
“Dave, are you sure we can’t be done with her yet?” Molly, the redhead, asks. When you lean your head up just a bit through blurry tears and blood from your hairline, you see the horrified looks of the others surrounding him. As horrified as they are, they’re still sickly enjoying it, which makes you even more terrified.
“No,” he coldly replies, “we’re not done until I say we’re done.” You earn another punch across the face, you spit out the blood in your mouth onto your lap, coughing as you catch your breath.
“You’ve- you’ve made your point,” you said roughly, your voice cracking as you say it. “Just end me for gods sake, man.”
“Heh,” he chuckles, “you’d like that, huh? A swift end to your suffering? Well that’s not gonna happen, bitch.” The knife glides across the flesh of your stomach, causing you to scream out in pain again.
The brunette speaks up this time, “I know you want her to suffer, but… Daisy didn’t suffer dude. You’ve gotten your revenge, let’s just end it and get out of here before she gets here.”
“I plan on her being here.”
The group stiffens in horror.
“WHAT?!” They all shout, immediately starting to panic.
“You’re shitting me man-”
“We’re gonna fucking die.”
“She’s probably already on her way here with their shit ton of guns!”
“You think she’s just gonna let this go? You fucking tore up her girlfriend, man!”
“Y/N here was just the start of it, I’m ending her tonight.” You start fighting against the ropes confining your legs and hands after he said that.
“Ohhhh!” He laughs loudly, “Did I say something that bothered you, sweetheart?”
“You’re not gonna fucking touch her!” You snarl, spitting blood in his face.
He wipes it off, leaning his hands on his knees as he gets real close to your face. “I don’t think you’re gonna do much from this position, girl. You’re gonna sit here and watch as Williams comes in here and attempts to save you..” he says condescendingly, “and you’re gonna see the life leave her eyes as I slit her throat.”
You glare menacingly at the man, yelling at him and fighting to rip out of your chair, but he ignores you, and so do the others as they leave your room. You yell for hours, but it weakens you, and eventually, you become too tired and succumb to black nothingness.
...
"This is it," Ellie says, looking back at Dina and Jesse.
"How do you know?" Jesse asks, walking up beside her.
"Because, I recognize the building. Let's go!" She snaps quietly, waving her hand for them to follow her. They trek sneakily through the grass right up against the side of the building, and Jesse watches behind them to make sure no one is following. Sneaking out of Jackson wasn't hard, but they're very aware their absence has probably already been noticed, especially since Ellie didn't exactly hide the fact this was her plan in the first place.
The three crouch even lower when they hear voices coming through the open window right above them. Dina, being in the middle, throws her hands over the other two so they don't pop up too early and get themselves caught.
"Cool it. Let's not make ourselves known until we've at least gotten her out of there, yeah?" Ellie grumbles and Jessie just nods. "Good. Now, the five that were with the girl are most likely in there, one of them the boyfriend, so they're gonna be on our asses ready to kill. Shoot if you have to, but remember, the goal is getting Y/N out, not killing everyone-"
"This isn't going to end until they're dead, Dina," Ellie says, "I'm gonna do whatever it takes, and if that means everyone in that building dies, so be it." Without warning, she throws her gun behind her on her back and pushes herself over the wall into the awaiting room of the building.
"Well, guess we're goin' then." Jessie mutters. Dina huffs in response but is quick to follow her inside, Jessie right behind her.
Once they enter the building, they're able to hear some of the voices more clearly. The room contains two doors, both completely open, so the chance of getting caught is slightly greater now. Ellie signals two coming from the right, and two coming from the left, so Dina and Jessie split to take each side. Ellie lets Jessie take the lead into the next room, and waits until Dina is out of sight to make her next move. Once she's in the room once over, she realizes how big this room is, and Jessie is already on the other side near the two men, watching them in case they hear Ellie. Neither of them are him.
To the left, there's a long, straight hallway with what seems to be cells, with all the bars and all. Right as she's about to uncover herself, a shot rings out through the building and women start screaming.
Dina.
The men look at each other quickly and take off for the door she just entered. Jessie springs up from his spot and starts shooting at them, hitting his mark as they both crumple to the ground with bullets in their legs.
"Go!" Jessie yells at Ellie, and she takes off for the hallway. She pushes so hard her legs feel like they're gonna give out, but she ignores it and grits her teeth, determined to find you. Hopefully unharmed.
But she knows better though. She killed his girlfriend. If it were the other way around, and he killed you, she wouldn't have let that bitch live for another minute. She forces it out of her mind when she catches a sliver of your hair as she nearly passes up your cell. Ellie suddenly halts, backing up to run to your door. She struggles with the lock for a moment, but she quickly takes her gun to repeatedly jam it into the lock so it breaks apart. Once she throws the door open, she's next to you in a second, softly placing her hands on your face so you lift your head.
She hears you grumble and she sighs with relief. You're not dead.
"Hey, baby, I'm here. Let's get you outta' here yeah?" She talks quietly, nearly a whisper so you barely hear her, but you feel her hands on your skin so you start squirming.
"No no no, stop, please-"
"It's Ellie. It's Ellie, baby, you're okay." Your eyes open slightly, and tears start to fall against your face. You whimper and slump forward once the ropes are off your wrists, not able to keep yourself up. You whisper her name and she nods, taking your arms to wrap them around her neck before she picks you up to cradle you against her chest. "Yeah, me. Ellie. I'm here now. You're gonna be okay."
Your face nudges her shoulder as you dig yourself deeper into her embrace, and once you're settled she turns and runs out of the cell with you now in her arms.
She makes it half way back down the hallway when she hears a click.
A gun click.
"Stop."
She closes her eyes shut and huffs out a breath, letting her head fall back towards the ceiling. Shit.
"Turn around."
As slowly as she can, she spins around to face him, making eye contact as soon as she lifts her gaze from the ground. Surprisingly, he's smirking.
"You're here. Finally." He forces a laugh, "What took you so long? Figured you'd be here hours ago."
Ellie ignores the comment and stays quiet, glaring at him menacingly.
"What, no excuse? Alright." He shakes his head, and starts shaking the gun in his hand, pointing it in her direction. "You know who I am, right?"
"I know who you are."
He smiles, throwing his hands up, "Good! Good, that's great. I'm glad." He huffs out another laugh, but it's cut short when he drops the facade and his face turns daunting. "You know my name?"
"Your name doesn't mean shit." Ellie says.
"Dave. You should know since... you should always be able to put a name to the face who's about to ruin your whole damn life." Ellie's face doesn't change, but she starts to worry. She doesn't know what she's gonna do with you if she has to fight. "I know your name, Ellie. I know... your name, where you live," he starts to count off his fingers, "who you love, who was here that night, I know everything about you."
"Aw, how sweet."
"Yeah, joke about it now. You're not gonna be laughing when I blow your brains out."
"Does it look like I'm laughing?" Ellie lifts her chin, keeping her head high. "I know what I did, Dave. You should have taken me, this had nothing to do with her-"
"Oh, Ellie, but it did!" He interrupts. "It did because you wanna' know why? She's your girl. You took mine, I took yours. End of story."
Ellie grunts. "She was gonna kill someone who was important to me. It was either her or him."
"Blah, blah, blah, I don't care. Daisy was important to me, and you killed her."
"Daisy didn't suffer! You tortured her!" Ellie screamed.
"I suffered, Ellie. You would've done the same." He keeps his voice leveled. "We're the same you and I."
"Maybe. The only difference is that I'm gonna walk out of here alive and you're gonna be dead."
You don't see much of it. One minute you were in her arms and the next you were slumped against the wall watching her bang his head against the ground five times. At first she had the upper hand, but when she stopped, he threw his head back and slammed it hard on her nose. You heard her groan, you heard him scream, but your eyes were sort of blurry and it was so hard to lift your head.
You don't know how long you're there, it could have been a minute or an hour, but they don't stop, they never stop.
When you're able to see a little better, you see him pressing her body against the bars with an arm over her throat, choking her. She gasps for air and her hands are pushing his shoulders, but he doesn't give. You whimper on the ground as you try to move, but you just fall to your side on the floor.
"She's mine, now."
"Like hell." She sputters out. She shoves her thumbs up and into his eyes, digging her nails in causing him to scream in pain and let her go. She knees him in the crotch and watches him collapse to the floor. He groans, holding himself on the floor as Ellie towers over him.
He lifts his head to glare at her, but then he screams, "Just kill me!"
"Gladly." She whips out the gun from her belt behind her and shoots him point blank between the eyes. His head smacks the ground and his body twitches before it stops and lies motionless. Ellie stares at him for a second before her head snaps to you, lying on the ground in a crumpled sort of position and she runs to you, lifting your head to look at you properly.
"Baby, you there? You okay?"
Loud boots are heard stomping down the hallway and Ellie lifts her gun, prepared to shoot again before she realizes it's just Dina and Jessie. They come to a stop, breathing hard from their fight, but they still when they see you on the ground. Their eyes change from shock to horror, but Ellie doesn't pay attention.
"They all dead?" Ellie asks as she grabs you and cradles you in her arms again.
"Yeah..." Dina breathes, and Jessie nods. Even though you're leaning on Ellie's shoulder, you can still see them holding hands, and it makes you smile.
"Good. Let's go."
...
"It was reckless!"
"But she's here isn't she? We got her back!"
"You put her at risk-"
"She was already at risk, Joel! She was being tortured, it really couldn't have gotten much worse than that!"
"-and you three put your lives at risk, Ellie!-"
Their voices get louder and louder as you start to wake up and gain consciousness. You almost couldn't tell who it was at first when you began to slowly blink your eyes open, but as you listened to more and more of what they were arguing about, it was pretty clear who it was.
You feel the softness of a couch beneath you, and a pair of jeans rubbing against your ear. You already know it's Dina who has your head in her lap, the gentle rub on your arm giving it away. Without hinting to Dina that you're awake yet, you look around the room to see who's with you. You're in Tommy and Maria's living room; Tommy and Maria reside in the corner on a chair together, Jessie sits on the arm at the other end of the couch, and other than Dina, it's just Joel and Ellie that's left. They all look defeated and grave as they sit and listen to their argument, one that you're starting to comprehend.
You guess you were doing a bit too much shifting around because suddenly Dina's hand stops moving and her head comes into view.
"Guys, shut up, I think she's waking up!"
All of a sudden, all the attention in the room is on you, and you rub your eyes as you sit up, making it seem like you didn't just hear part of their conversation. Ellie's face lights up and she moves from across the room to kneel in front of you, helping you and Dina sit you up from your laid down position.
"Hi, baby, how you feelin'?" Ellie's soft voice is comforting to your ears, so different from how she sounded two seconds ago.
"Hi," you rasp, clearing your throat so you don't sound so hoarse, "I'm okay, I think. What time is it?"
"It's a little after 8 o'clock," she says, "do you want something to eat? Or do you want water?"
You nod your head, "I'll take some water."
"I'll get it for you." Jessie says, leaving the room to get you a glass. You look around and examine their faces, and the way they're looking at you starts to make you feel overwhelmed.
"What? You're looking at me like I'm a ghost or something." You chuckle halfheartedly to yourself, but none of them laugh with you. Ellie grips your hand, bringing your attention to her for a moment, and it's then that you notice how much emotion is being held in features as she stares at you. You can tell she wants to cry, but she holds it in her chest, shoving it down deep, so it doesn't bubble up in front of everyone. You grip back as hard as you can.
Nobody talks until Jessie gets back. He hands the glass of water to you with a gentle smile, rubbing your shoulder gently as he passes by and sits next to you on the couch. You awkwardly take small sips as they sit and stare, watching you, as if you're gonna fall or die on the spot or something. After about five minutes, you couldn't take it anymore.
"Okay, is someone going to say something, or are we all just going to sit here and stare at me?"
Ellie hides her laugh a little bit, breaking the silence, and Joel gives her a look.
"You've been through a lot, why don't you go get some rest?" Joel suggests. You want to make a comment about his and Ellie's argument, but you hold back for now. That can be hashed out in the morning, for now, you'd rather go lay in bed with Ellie.
Just as you think about going home, you remember what happened there and what the house must still look like. There's no way Ellie even went back into the house after seeing it, much less to clean it, from what you can assume she probably left right away. You look at Ellie, and she's already speaking, and lending you a hand to stand up.
"We're gonna stay here tonight, Tommy and Maria offered us a room. Just so everyone can stay together." She gives you a tight-lipped smile, and you know as soon as you get to the bedroom and you're alone, she'll probably tell you more.
"No problem, I'd like that. Thank you guys."
"Of course, honey. Get some rest, we'll see you in the morning." Maria offers a kind smile. Then her, Tommy, and Joel leave the room and head to the kitchen where they start a small, quiet conversation with themselves.
"Thanks for... everything," You turn to Dina and Jessie, giving their hands a squeeze, "I don't really know what else to say."
"You don't have to say anything, babe. You know we got you." Dina pulls you into a tight embrace, and Jessie follows suit, wrapping his lanky arms around the both of you.
"Yeah, you know we got your back. Even against crazy psycho cults." Jessie adds. Ellie and Dina give him the most point blank stare you've ever seen, and it makes you laugh, maybe a little too hard because you wince and hold your ribs.
"Stop, Jessie, you're making me laugh." He smiles, giving your head a rub and messing your hair up even more.
"Okay, let's go." Ellie grabs your hand and wraps her other arm around your waist as she leads you up the stairs, while you give Dina and Jessie one last smile. Once they're out of sight and you guys are up the stairs, you finally let yourself lean into Ellie and let her take your weight. You didn't realize how much pain you were in until now, but you think the shock of seeing everyone again all of a sudden must have just worn off. "I got you baby, we're almost there." Ellie says into your ear, giving you a kiss on the side of your head as you make it to the top of the stairs.
She sets you on the bed before going back to close the door, giving you a once over as soon as she's standing in front of you again. You offer your arms out, and she steps closer, letting your face fall into her stomach and your hands come up to wrap around her body. She feels your sigh of relief almost instantly, and it makes her cup your head and lean into you as close as she possibly can.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." She whispers.
"For what?" You look up at her.
"I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you that morning-"
"Ellie, you were on patrol, you couldn't have known-"
"It was still too soon after everything that happened. I didn't want to leave you in the first place and I shouldn't have." She's shaking her head, eyes closed, and her hands in a fist with your shirt enclosed in them. You know no matter what you say, she won't listen to it, so you just rub her sides.
"You saved me, Els. I'm home because of you." She nods her head and glances down at you, cupping your cheeks.
"I would have never stopped until you were."
You nod back, "I know." You pull her down so your faces are level and kiss her, taking her by surprise. Of course, she returns the kiss, and it's so soft, so comforting, familiar and safe.
Ellie changes into sweats and a t-shirt quickly so she can help you get into your clothes, which is the exact same thing as she's wearing, and get you under the covers faster. Once you both are changed, she holds up the blankets so you can slide under, and once you're settled you let your head hit the pillow and close your eyes. You breathe deeply, calming your heart, and trying to force your mind to settle down. Ellie's arms snake around you, pulling you close to her chest.
"I'm never leaving you again."
You smile, and kiss right above her collarbone where your head is resting against her chest.
"I don't doubt it."
#the title has no particular meaning I just thought it was cool lmao#i guess you can say dave was the dead man walking#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams#the last of us
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Random Musings on Sam and Dean: Relationships and Hunting
There is something about Sam starting out the series as the one with friends, and Dean being this loner who essentially tells him he shouldn’t even try to have relationships with other people when they are hunters. Dean sees his immediate family and hunting as the absolute most important things, and everyone else are outsiders.
Some of these things sort of stay the same over the course of the show, but others change in a pretty significant way.
Random, not super well-organized, and potentially off-base, thoughts under the cut. (If anyone actually reads this, please feel free to weigh in.)
Then, as the series goes on, Sam loses or let’s go of almost all of his relationships, until he has pretty much only Dean. He’s afraid to truly get close to anyone out of fear they will be hurt … except for Dean, who is already embedded too deeply in his heart to cut out.
Meanwhile, “Loner” Dean is collecting friends, or extended “family”. Yet, he still doesn’t want them around most of the time, seeming happiest when it’s just him and Sam, with Castiel and Bobby as tolerated/appreciated additions to the family, yet not quite full-family. I’m not including Jack here because no one will ever convince me that Dean fully let him in (and this isn’t a criticism).
The relationships differences between Sam and Dean are like an extension of how they fit into hunting.
Sam befriended normies in the past, but doesn’t fully connect with many new characters out of fear of losing them, while Dean befriends hunters and the supernatural adjacent. There is something about this … like, Dean fits the hunter life in a way Sam doesn’t, even in terms of relationships or how those in the hunting life relate to Dean vs Sam. I’m not saying Dean always likes hunting, or that he bares his soul to everyone he calls friend/family, but he fits it, even socially, better than Sam (and Dean isn’t even that friendly). Sam, with just a very few exceptions, doesn’t make himself at home in the hunting life, including not opening himself up to the people they meet… at least until much later in the series (if then). It’s like he’s afraid to fully live or engage as a hunter in some ways. This is like him refusing to see the bunker as a home until long after Dean has already thoroughly nested there.
Even Sam’s reactions to the hunting life are never quite proportionate, they are often too big (Demon blood, saving Dean from the MOC and risking literally everyone else) or too little (running when he loses Dean Season 7/8). Sam is the Goldilocks of hunting, except I don’t think he ever finds “just right.” And this doesn’t mean he isn’t good at it, or doesn’t learn to “love it,” but I don’t think it ever quite fits him fully.
Sam got close to Jessica and makes friends at Stamford, but he had fully turned his back on hunting at the time. Sam gets close to Amelia, but it’s because he’s running from hunting (and losing Dean). The only time he feels really settled in as a hunter (when it’s not a connection to Dean) is when he’s soulless. It’s only when he’s missing a crucial part of himself (or he has a revenge mission) that he fully embraces the life.
Dean, on the other hand, feels like purgatory is pure: kill the bad thing, rinse and repeat. Even when Dean is living with Lisa, he has an eye and ear open for monsters, and can’t fully shut off those instincts. Unlike with Sam, Dean melds life and hunting and family into this co-existing thing that he’s able to settle into. Again, this isn’t all Dean is, and it doesn’t come without personal/emotional/mental consequences, but Dean is a hunter, and he even suggests in Season 14 that he’s content.
Sam, in Season 10, tells Charlie he loves hunting, but he adds the caveat that he wouldn’t do it without his brother. And even getting into the weeds of Dabb era, Sam tells Mary he hunts because his family (Dean) does.
Speaking of Mary, Sam doesn’t even let her fully in. He provides a shoulder for her at times, respects her autonomy, and eve tries to make her proud, but he never fully opens up to her, not like Dean does. And we know how Sam got along with John who trained the boys to hunt .. or, you know, didn’t.
Dean is Sam’s exception. He’s close to Dean even though Dean is associated with hunting, is basically the best hunter. Sam says several times that he hunts because Dean does. He doesn’t get close to anyone in the hunting life, except for Dean. Dean is Sam’s tether into hunting after his revenge quest for Jess and guilt from losing John wear down.
Bear with me on this one, but the long-term, or big characters, associated with the hunting world are largely closer to Dean or exist to hurt Sam. John (Mr. Hunter Parent) was disappointed in Sam’s lack of both commitment to hunting and obedience, and favoured Dean (not that it did him any good). Bobby considers Sam like a son, but Dean is his clear favourite (and Sam rarely turns to Bobby for personal help, if ever). Castiel considers Sam a friend/family, but as an extension of Dean. The angels hate Sam because he’s lucifer’s vessel. Ruby was able to manipulate Sam into embracing his power (and hunting) and was closer to him than Dean, but it was because of his initial grief for Dean that she was able to get in his head. Sam is tormented by the devil himself when he’s in the hunting life. Sam never thaws towards Crowley w who tries to take Dean away when he becomes Dean’s frienemy. Mary (Mrs Hunter Parent) comes back to life and basically ignores Sam out of her own guilt and bonds more with Dean (at least at first). Rowena bonds more with Sam than Dean, but they bond over shared trauma not really hunting (though she does teach him spells, so she’s a bit of an exception). Jack, Sam actually bonds with more than Dean, but it’s over shared “freak” experience, and Jack actually becomes the new god, so while he starts as a part of hunting life, he is actually beyond it.
Even the junior hunter girls are arguably closer to Dean: Krissy, Claire and Charlie. And we have the part-time hunters. Jody is pretty close to both boys, maybe even leaning towards Sam, but she’s a cop as well as a part-time hunter. She isn’t fully in the life. Donna, the other cop and part-time hunter is definitely closer to Dean. So, the rule mostly holds true even for the more minor hunters. Finally, even a lot of the random hunters we meet hate Sam (Gordon, Walt and Roy, Girl in Episode 2 of Season 9, etc).
Anyway, my point with all of this is that there might actually be a reason that so many chracters in the hunter world, or associated with it, are closer to Dean than Sam. And it isn’t just writer favouritism or “Everybody just loves Dean” ( 🤷🏻♀️). I mean, it makes sense that chracters are drawn to Dean because he’s got that charm, while Sam tends towards introverted. But it actually makes sense to be more than that within the story. Sam is never quite at home, or settled in, or fits in to the hunter society or hunting world.
And yet, while most chracters are out here preferring Dean, Dean couldn’t care less because Sam is his world. And in return, Dean is Sam’s exception to everything. He stays in hunting for Dean (in the long run). He gives up many of his morals for Dean. He risks damning everyone in the world with the darkness for Dean. He learns to love hunting because it’s part of his life with Dean. And he gives it up again when there is no Dean alive on earth (assuming he quits in the finale).
I know there is more to their relationships than this little summary, and this didn’t cover Deans also complex relationship with hunting and John and Mary, etc., but it just stuck me as interesting how so much of the show truly points to Sam not fitting in the hunting world. It’s almost like he paused his regularly scheduled programming to be with Dean for the rest of Dean’s life, before carrying on.
But the kicker is, even though Sam (seemingly) gets out of hunting, the normal life can no longer fit him either because it doesn’t have his big brother Dean in it.
It is undoubtably sad that Dean dies young, but Sam is also still living out a tragedy at the end of Supernatural.
The fact that we got reunited brothers on that bridge is … everything.
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Hey-o!!! Mind racing anon here I just reread through your venomreader x yandere batfam AGAIN! And my mind started racing
What if while reader is captured in the timeout cube and they start getting sick. Like venom hasn’t eaten anyone in awhile and like in the movie starts to eat his host aka reader.
So reader starts becoming pale and weak and coughing and throwing up blood from having their organs literally being eaten to sustain the symbiote and the batfam sees this and it leads to absolute CHAOS!!!
I’m talking arguments and fights breaking out between them about what to do and how to help reader.
I think Bruce would try and figure out why reader is all of a sudden sick and want to do tests and scans to help find the reason. But he starts to get more and more worried as readers health declines and there is nothing coming up on any results. He tries everything he can think of but it doesn’t help his children are becoming manic and going crazy so he has to try to keep order all the time.
But then you have Jason going absolutely FERAL trying to get to reader and take them to a hospital and hold them and comfort them because he can’t believe he let it get this far when he swore to protect them. He stands outside of readers room and begs them to let him know what’s happening and how he can help. He brings them all kinds of medicine and food, he even brings reader some weed from their hidden stash to try and keep them calm or help in anyway. His eyes are red and puffy all the time from him crying every time he sees reader weakly throw up or cough up their blood.
Dick is freaking out and won’t let reader out of his sight but every time reader coughs or vomits or starts to collapse he’s crying and begging Bruce to do something or he will. He’s tried braking into the room to get you (they all have) but Bruce changed the code or something so nobody tries to run off with them.
Tim pours through all security footage trying to see if maybe you poisoned yourself with something in order to try and escape or at least trying to find what caused all of this but he’s coming up empty, he starts getting desperate and researches every disease known to man. He now goes through every checklist of symptoms he can to figure out what’s wrong. He also know knows way too much about diseases and if reader ever get a sniffle or a cough after this he immediately thinks their dying.
And Damien put on the face of not caring in front of his family. He looked as if he’s unbothered by everything but his room was destroyed the same day all of this started and he had barely slept or ate. None of them have. He’s started to stalk the outside of readers cell as if he was guarding them and he watches everything reader does. He claims it’s to make sure reader isn’t tricking them by doing this to themselves but it’s really because his mind has made him believe reader might die and because of that thought he can’t stand being farther than a couple steps away. He’s surprisingly the one who advocates the strongest to let reader out in order to help them and he becomes manic at the thought of returning the next day and reader being dead in the cell and he CANT handle it.
Meanwhile reader is just like well…fuck… and debates on telling them about venoms diet but knows they can’t because then reader is admitting to letting venom eat people and that is SURE to go over well with the vigilantes against killing and all that🙄🙄🙄
Anyway yeah I am feral for yandere batfam
Also I know this is long but I love it and I love you and merry late Christmas and happy new year and yeah❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Bonus:
Venom!Reader: yeah I’m a monster now and I don’t deserve love because of the horrible things I’ve done
Yandere Batfam: You have never done anything wrong in your life. We know this. And we love you.
Venom!Reader: *surprised pikachu face*
2nd Bonus:
Batfam member: I hate that alien that has attached itself to you. If I had it my way it would be kept in a jar for the rest of its days studies by scientists.
Reader: Venom said if he had to choose for me to marry someone he would pick you.
Batfam member: You know I’ve always thought aliens were cool. I think Venom is actually a really good influence on you and you should definitely listen to him more often. *pulls out a ring and gets on one knee*
This is absolutely amazing and genuinely lit a spark under me regarding that story, thank you so so much for sending in this wonderful piece it's delectable, I've been having serious writers block with that series and this single ask had me running to the editor cuz it's so good like?? Of course your body would break down without it's needs being met it's so perfect, again thank you for sending this in cuz it inspired me ❤️❤️❤️ you go glen coco
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Christmas kids
“If you ever try to leave me i’ll find you, Ronnie.”
pretty much canon rafe x reader
warnings: murder (not detailed but implied), canon rafe, mentions of blood
summary: after you break up with your boyfriend, rafe, and start seeing a new guy, he makes sure you’ll never leave him again.
a/n: not proof read
You can’t believe you had allowed this to get so far. You had started dating Rafe a about a year ago. At first he was the nicest guy, he’d pay for everything, complimented you, treated you like a princess, he gave you everything. But clearly that was just the honeymoon phase. Because soon his true colors started to show.
He’d become really possessive, any guy that looked your direction ended up with a bloody lip and black eye. He didn’t let you wear certain things, hang out with certain people, go out, etc. You had to be around him at all times, he’d snap for little things, manipulated you into thinking it was your fault when he snapped, starting doing a shit ton of cocaine. And you couldn’t handle it anymore.
So you broke up with him, at least you tried.
“No baby, i’m sorry, i’ll change I promise just please don’t leave me. Your all I had.” He sobbed as he stood in front of you reaching for your hands. You pulled away and shook your head. “No Rafe. I’m sorry but it’s over. I can’t do this anymore.” You mumbled. He shook his head and bit his trembling lips. “Please Princess I swear, I promise i’ll change. Is it the coke? The weed? If it’s that I’ll stop I swear.”
You shook your head before turning to walk towards the door. “I’m leaving.” His sadness quickly turned to rage as he picked up and vase and slammed it towards the wall, causing you to flinch. “You’ll pay for this you bitch! You’re going to regret ever leaving me, I promise you. I’m what’s good for you Y/N, I know what’s best.” Is the last thing you heard from him as you shut the door.
For months you avoided him, and he didn’t seem to be looking for you. After a months you healed and had completely forgotten about your toxic relationship with Rafe. Especially when you met David. He was a nice guy, nice parents, not much money but that was manageable. And that’s where the story continues.
Today, 7:45 pm
You and David had a date today, you had one every Thursday. And he was almost two hours late. You paced around the parking lot looking for him, you turned around when you saw bright headlights. You smiled to yourself, thinking it would be him. You face immediately dropped when you recognized the truck.
Rafes truck.
You immediately turned on your heels to walk away when the car swerved and parked right in front of you. You froze in your place when the brown haired beauty himself stepped out of the car and flashed you that same cheeky smile that made you fall in love in the first place. You gripped your purse that was thrown around your shoulder as you straighten your back. He started making his way over to you with a smirk.
“Long time no see Y/N.” He said as he stepped in front of you, hands in his pockets. “What do you want Rafe?” You sighed. He shrugged. “To talk.”
“About?”
“How are you? How have you been? What are you doing here?”
“I have a date.” You said as you started getting concerned with Davis whereabouts. “Oh right, what was his name again? Daniel?”
“David.” You corrected before your brain flooded with curiosity. “Wait, how’d you know?” He couldn’t stop the smile that plasterers his face. “I ran into him on the way here.” He brought his through his hair and your heart dropped to the floor at the sight of his hands that were stained red.
He watched as your face dropped. Your lips moved but nothing came out.
“You- You,” You stuttered out, tears pricking your eyes. Rafes brows furrowed as he cooed mockingly. “Don’t worry hon, I didn’t kill him. At least not yet.” Tears were spilling down your face as you looked back at Rafe. “Please don’t, please don’t kill him.” You sobbed.
He shushed you, walking closer to grab your face, pulling it closer to his. You wanted to fight, but you couldn’t. You were frozen with his. “Shh,” he hushed your sobs as he wiped your tears and stoked your hair. “Let’s make a deal, kay? I won’t hurt him on one condition.”
“What?” You quickly asked. “What do you want?” You asked desperately, eyes widening. He chuckled as your desperate state. “You.” He said simply, enjoying the way your face turned from despairing to fear. “I just want you back baby. Say you’ll be mine and i’ll let him go. Promise, and you know I always keep my promises.” He smirks.
“You’re going to regret leaving me, I promise you.”
You choked out another sob but he shut you up with a harsh kiss. You couldn’t help but give in to the kiss, wanting David to be okay. He pulled back, his lips still brushing against yours. “Say you’re mind. Do it Y/N.”
For David.
“I’m yours.” He kissed you again, and you let him. He smirked into the kiss knowing, David was already long gone.
REBLOG FOR MORE!
#ficsandfun#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe angst#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe x y/n
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heaven beside you- johnny slaughter x reader
Warning: DEAD DOVE, suicidal reader, suicide, abuse, Johnny is a POS again.
18+ MDNI
The gentleness in those rough, calloused hands sickened her to the core. The same hands that mutilated her friends in cold blood were the same ones he used to give her pleasure, abuse her, caress her. He feigned innocence at the beginning of her capture, always being sweet with that Southern talk he made to reel her in. Made her fall in love. But that innocence rotted away like her friends did in that basement. As time passed, he began to show more and more of his untrustworthiness. He was only gentle when he wanted something from her, and she had no other choice but to obey.
It was hard when the only person she relied on was a monster. A monster who raked his claws into her body, savoring her taste and licking his chops. The monster that stared at her with steel, cold eyes. No signs of fondness. He only wanted her for himself, making sure the others knew she was not for them. It was isolating.
It took a toll. Eventually she slept through many hours of the day, barely awake when he was ravaging her body. Sleep was an escape, she dreamed of what could not be. She saw her friends, happy in a field of flowers, sunflowers. When she was dreaming, the emptiness dissipated. But as soon as she opened her eyes, realizing she was not with her friends or family, it seeped back into her body.
She was always tired. Tired of being stuck in that decaying room, tired of being chained up like a rabid animal, tired of being a play thing for a murderous man, tired of this life. She wanted to move on, she was not welcome in this life anymore as it had been overridden with tangled weeds. It was not hers anymore. But he noticed that his little bunny was not who she once was.
“Why are ya’ always sleepin’?” he asked her one day, tapping her face with an open palm. “Ya’ always asleep when I see ya’. I miss ya’.”
But she knew he did not miss her. The serpent was speaking his lies again into her ear, just as the serpent convinced Eve to eat the Forbidden Fruit. She did not reply back, she stared at him with vacant eyes. And he stared back.
The routine had changed up for the first time one day. Instead of Johnny bringing her a plate of an unknown meat that made her queasy, it was Bubba. He sauntered in, a little nervous and she perked up immediately. Bubba was one of the more “nicer” ones of the family as he did not make an effort to make her more miserable. He grunted as he set the plate down, glancing at her.
“Hey,” she rasped.
Bubba looked at her, tilting his head slightly for her to continue.
“I have a favor to ask.”
He side-eyed the door, afraid Johnny would come in and see them interacting. Bubba heeded his warning and stayed away from his prisoner because he was afraid of what Johnny would do. He groaned worriedly.
“Kill me.” she said as she crawled to him. “Kill me now. Please, please put me out of my misery.” Her eyes were glossy, the first signs of emotion she had shown in a long time.
Bubba began to sound frantic. He shook his head quickly, stepping back away from her.
“Please, you don’t understand. I need to die. There is no other way to this, please kill me.” she begged. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
Shaking his head again, Bubba turned to leave the room. He ignored her weeping so he did not feel guilty. But he did anyways, he did not want her to cry. He felt like he was at fault for her outburst.
She cried just like she did when she realized all of her friends were dead. She sobbed for the girl who died in her, now left with an empty shell of a used, broken body. The boy did not play with his toys nicely, he liked to break them into pieces and glue them back together, only to break them again. Break the brittle porcelain and smile at the mess he made.
The thoughts of suicide never left her head. There was a lot of time to ponder and think about it before she was taken back to her sanctuary she created in her brain.
Johnny knew he broke her, and he viewed it as a success. To him, it was his usual game. Why show mercy for a play thing? He never played nice, he was known for that. Sometimes he wondered if it was even a good idea to have her in the first place, but he was reminded of the goodness of it when he sank inside of her. Nancy often pestered him to kill the girl, but he was not finished with her. She was an unfinished art project that needed a few more touches. Just as Bubba made masks and Nubbins snapped pictures, Johnny was an artist in his own way. He enjoyed defiling women and turning them inside out. The empty eyes of a broken spirit stroked his ego and made his body tingle in excitement. He got off on making individuals miserable, cackling at their pleas and the fresh, hot blood that spilled from the crevices of their corpse.
She felt like a corpse herself. The bunny stopped fighting when trapped in the jaws of the wolf, she accepted her fate. She wished he had killed her like he did her friends. They would be rotting together, whether it was in the bellies of her captors or where they disposed what was left of them. Johnny mocked her when she cried for her friends. He slapped her and told her to “close her damn lips before he glued them together”. The tears continued to fall, but the cries were quieted down in fear of him. He liked to throw his intimidation around and terrorize her when he could. Whether it was waving body parts in her face, forcing her to eat “jerky”, cutting into her body with his knife, or abusing her repeatedly, Johnny took pride in his creation. Sometimes he took pictures of her and stashed them away for his own viewing. She was his pretty girl, his own art piece.
There was a thought that crossed her mind that God did not shine his light upon the hellish beast that the Sawyers called “home”. Within it, it felt void of any saving, and with the amount of times she cried for the Lord, he did not answer back. The only Lord that answered her calls was his creation of man who laughed in her face.
“Ya’ think God is going to save ya’?” he giggled as he waved the knife in her face. “God doesn’t do any savin’ around here, the only God ya’ worship is me. There ain’t no God that will touch this place, for the Devil already marked it as his sanctuary.”
Debating on her thoughts, she stared at the ceiling unblinking as he slept peacefully next to her. Her lower half throbbed from his perverted touch and she could not sleep. Her brain was running a thousand miles per hour, wishing and hoping for a new beginning. Maybe she could grant herself that, she deserved it after all she put up with him. Her skin burned when he fondled her, like a demon would when a crucifix was placed upon their skin. The Devil snored quietly next to her like a predator would with his prey confined between its jowls. She wondered if he awakened during his slumber to watch her.
Maybe God did watch upon this Hell. Johnny released her from her restraints, saying she had been doing very good lately and would be granted just a small fraction of freedom. She was grateful, but her brain worked at the many ways she could leave. She felt guilty for feeling this way because some part of her loved him. When he was gentle for only mere moments, he kissed her softly, he smiled at her with amusement, he cuddled her close to him and left small kisses along her throat. Those times he did that, she wanted to stay. She wanted it to be like that forever. But just as quick as he could kill, he was just as quick at switching his moods. When he laid kisses upon her throat, he bit down to draw blood and shock her. When he kissed her, he chewed at her lip roughly and sucked on her blood. When he smiled at her, his smile morphed into an evil, dark smile. When he cuddled her, he dug his fingernails into her soft body and left claw marks. It reminded her that he was not someone to love, but someone to be terrified of.
It was a chilly November evening. They sat at the table together to eat dinner with the rest of the family. They studied her as she chewed slowly to prevent herself from getting sick. They were not used to her sitting at the table with them to eat after Johnny had kept her away from them for so long. However, he made it clear to not talk to you. You were only his, they did not need to converse with you. Sissy annoyed Johnny about it, getting under his skin on purpose and smiling at his clenched fists and the sharp clatter of his utensils. Bubba stole small glances at you but avoided your gaze. It was better he did not look, he did not want to anger the beast. Nubbins and Chop Top giggled at the table as they watched your frightened form shake as Johnny became more angry. He was like a bomb ready to explode as the vein in his forehead throbbed and his jaw clenched.
Dinner was a long ordeal, and it was very tense with the way the family continued to irritate the Slaughter boy. She was fearful. She knew that once the door to his room closed, he would devour her. And she was scared for the first time in a while. Clenching her wrist, he dragged her from her chair and upstairs, making her stumble along the steps as he hurriedly pulled her with him. His grip was tight, and it activated the rope burns that had melted into her skin like wax.
Throwing her into the room, he slammed the door shut. His breathing was uneven as his eyes glistened with animosity.
“All of this is your fuckin’ fault.” he spat as he wrenched a hand into her scalp. “If ya’ hadn’t come around here in the first place, I wouldn’t have ta’ hear my family’s yappin’.
She stayed silent. It was best to not argue back. He never took it too lightly.
“They want me to kill ya’. They wonder all the time why I haven’t killed ya’. I’m not so sure myself either.” Johnny bore into her soul. “There ain’t no other purpose to ya’ besides fuckin’ the stupidity out of ya’ and usin’ ya.”
Glistening with tears, her eyes did not let them fall. She knew this already. She knew he did not love her. He never meant anything he said. Yet, it hurt her, it deeply punctured her heart. She felt herself losing the ability to breathe as her heart cracked, her mind replaying his words over and over.
“If I had to do it all over again, I would have kept your other friend instead of ya. Or I would have killed ya’.” He watched to see her reaction to his words, but she did not want to give him the satisfaction. He enjoyed hurting her. But she could not hold back.
“I hate you.” she cried out. “I fucking hate you.”
He laughed. “Not as much as I fucking hate ya.” He pushed her onto the ground. “Did ya’ really think I loved ya’? Seriously, what ever gave ya’ that idea?”
“I don’t know, Johnny, maybe all the times you told me I was your ‘pretty girl’ or the times you actually treated me like a normal human being!” she screamed, her tears flowing down her face as he watched her breakdown. “You are fucked in the head. You are insane!”
“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, bitch.” he replied as he began to take his belt off. “I don’t like this attitude ya’ suddenly developed.”
Rage. Rage filled her entire body to the brim and radiated off of her. She had so much pent up anger and she did not care what he did to her. She wanted him to be pissed, to be distraught just like her.
“Fuck you, you fucking dick!”
Johnny snapped his belt and frowned. “Bad decision, Y/N.”
She never received corporal punishment as a child, for she was a good girl. Even if she did cause issues, her parents did not believe in hitting their child. So she never experienced it before, until now. The belt cut into her skin as he slammed it onto her body repeatedly. Sometimes it got her face, her arms, her legs, her stomach, wherever he could hit. She tried to back up but she hit the wall, and he stepped closer to her. She wailed in pain and anger, like a pissed off cat in heat.
Kicking her feet out, she struck his shin. Hissing in pain, he threw the belt to the side. “Oh ya’ gonna’ get it now, ya’ fuckin’ bitch.”
“Fuck you.” she said sternly, not backing down. “Fuck you and your whole family.”
She could barely remember his fist colliding with her face. She thrashed her body around, kicking her limbs wildly as she did so. She hoped it would hurt him just as her nose ached from his punch. Warm blood poured and smeared across her face as he landed another punch on her face. Another one went into her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. She wheezed and she felt her lungs squeeze every last bit of air out. He was not done, but she was tired of it. He had done this long enough.
Charging up her elbow, she slammed it into his crotch. Johnny chomped down on his lower lip, immediately tasting iron in his mouth as he felt himself go dizzy. His face felt hot and the nausea tensed his stomach up. Getting into his knees, he tried to fight the nausea away. His vision was blurry as he could see her get up quickly from the floor and dash to the door. He reached out to grab her but failed, falling onto his face. His attempts of crawling were futile as he had to wait out his pain. He was pissed, but he could not act out due to the fact he could not walk currently. That bitch was going to pay.
The bunny hopped down the stairs while holding her ribs, her wide eyes searching for an exit point. She knew she could not escape with the condition she was in, but she knew that she could leave her vessel behind. The rest of the family were nowhere to be seen so far.
Sprinting out the back door the best she could, she made her way to one of the sheds they had. If Johnny could tie her up, then she knew they had what she was looking for. She was terrified of Johnny finding her. However, this life was not for her anymore. It had been consumed by the wolf and she could not take it anymore. He was so selfish. So vain.
Johnny stumbled to his feet, his sensitive area throbbing in pain and the nausea still present in his stomach. Walking down the stairs, he clenched his jaw tightly. He was going to sniff out his prey again and maybe this time end it once and for all. She had given him enough grief and caused too much turmoil in his life since she decided to come along. He noticed the back door was cracked and the demented smile that came upon his face hurt.
With very little moon light shining upon the shed, she had some difficulty finding what she needed. However, her hands wrapped around the coarse thickness of it. Rope. She chuckled sadly. This is what it had come down to. Her only exit out of this place that gave her full control of her body once again. She did not know what that felt like anymore.
She peeked her head out the door to see if Johnny had come outside, but she did not see any sign of him. Now, she only had to climb up a tree and tie the knot. Quietly walking, she crouched and carved her pathway to the one of the bigger trees that could support her decision without stopping her from doing so. Sometimes, branches were weak. Here and there, she heard rustling in the bushes which made her heart race and her hair stand on end, but she continued to make her way to the tree. Then, she finally heard him.
“Hey there!” he cackled from the back door, eyes glistening with rage. “Where do ya’ think you’re goin’?”
She took off running towards the tree, hoping and praying that she could make it in time to climb before he could. He was still a little a ways from her and it would take him a bit longer to get to her since she had hurt him. But she knew it wouldn’t be long.
“Get back here!” Johnny yelled as he started stomping towards her.
With some difficulty, she crawled up the tree like a tarantula escaping the sight of a human being. Her lungs ached, the cuts stung, her nose was sticky with blood, and she was exhausted. She glanced back and saw that Johnny was still making his way to her. She still had a bit of time. She settled in the highest trees branch that even Johnny would not be able to cut her down from the ground.
She moved her hands as fast as she could, tying the knots and securing it tightly. This would not fail her. She was going to get out of here. Not alive, but she would be reunited with her friends once again. Frolicking in a field of sun flowers together and laughing at random nonsense. Her eyes watered with tears as she began to laugh manically. Balancing on the tree branch, she began to walk to the edge of it to tie the end of it to the thick branch.
Johnny could not tell what she was holding in her hands, but he was extremely frustrated that he could not move any faster because of how much pain he was in. He tried running, but it hurt badly. The bitch really got to him, got the upper hand on him. He neared the tree but still had difficulty making out what she was holding or going to do.
Her success was nearing within the minutes. She looked down and saw Johnny was getting much closer now, so she had to act fast. Sliding her neck through the knot, she studied the ground as the tree branch creaked from the weight. Tears fell as she smiled. She would be free. She would be with her friends again. She would be at peace. No more Johnny. No more cannibalism. No more crazy families or bloodbaths. No more hurt. No more pain. She was looking forward to it. Lifting one foot and hanging it off the edge, she smiled once more before plunging down.
Johnny’s heart stopped. His breathing hitched as he heard that familiar cracking sound. The sound of a broken ligament. His eyes settled upon her hanging body, unmoving. He could not move right away. His body did not let him.
Until he let out a scream of agony, one that a person would hear from a mountain lion in the woods. It echoed back to him, the night sky glittered with stars taunting him. She was too far up for him to reach her from where he was at, so he hurriedly climbed up the tree. He forgot the pain in his crotch, what hurt more was the pain in his heart. One that he buried a long time ago.
He shimmied along the branch and slipped out his knife, sawing away at the rope. He felt like he was going to faint. Her body toppled to the ground with a sickening thud, but Johnny knew. He knew she was not there anymore. She was just a corpse now. But he wanted to believe that she was still there. Practically jumping off the tree, he raced to her body and fell to his knees, running his hands over her body to feel her heart beat. A sign of life. Yet there was nothing, nothing reflected back to him.
“Why…” he whispered. “Why did ya’ abandon me like this?”
Picking up her body carefully, he cradled her close to him. Something he never did when she was alive. Her head was moved to an unnatural position as the rope had snapped parts of her vertebrae and neck.
Sissy had heard his cry of pain, but she was not ready to be faced with her family member holding their “lover’s” body. Staring at the girl’s corpse, she opened her mouth to say something but Johnny pushed past her. He was shaking, whether it was from rage, sadness, or anguish, Sissy was not sure. But she was sure that the woman he held was not alive anymore. The rope burned itself into her neck and colored it blue and black. The girl’s face was pale, eyes hazed over with no signs of life.
“She… she abandoned me.” Johnny said as he laid her body on the table. “She abandoned me.”
Sissy stood in the door way when Nancy came into the dining room. Her eyes laid upon the body and she sighed. “I told ya’ she was a bad idea.”
Johnny’s eyes were glossy. “Mama… why did she abandon me? She left me…”
“Well sweet pea, her and ya’ other mother have somethin’ in common.” she replied flatly. “There ain’t no sense in worrying about it. She was just a girl. Nothin’ special about her.”
“She was my girl.”
“Yes, and so were about fifty other ones too.”
He stayed silent. His brain ran wildly. Why did she leave him like this? His biological mother left him too, just like Nancy said. Left him near a garbage bin to rot away. But Nancy, savior Nancy, saved the young boy.
Now, who would save him from this? He did not want another woman right now, he wanted the one he had adjusted to. He wanted her. But she was laying upon the dining room table with pallid, bruised skin and a broken spine. He wanted to cry but he did not allow himself to. Not here, not now.
“It’s best to forget her, boy. She was nothin’ but trouble. It was bound to happen, Johnny. Ya’ cant trust anyone outside of family. Otherwise, ya’ will be abandoned over and over.” Nancy said as a final warning to her son. “It’s not your fault, ya’ can’t control who leaves ya’.”
Her words stabbed into his heart. Johnny knew he was easy to abandon. His mother did it first, and now she did it. It made him feel helpless, like he had no control of his life.
Nancy left the room and Sissy continued to watch as Johnny picked the stiff body up and began to slowly tread up the stairs, his footsteps sounding haunting. She felt herself hurting as well. She was not sure why, but she did.
Treating her with more gentleness than he did when she was alive, he carefully settled her onto the mattress. The mattress she laid on waiting for him to come back from his chores. The mattress she slept with him on. Now, she was nothing but a memory.
“Why did ya’ abandon me?” he choked out, feeling like his younger self wondering why his biological mother left him to die. “What made ya’ think you could do that?”
No response.
“You left me…”
Silence.
Revolting silence.
“Why did you do this to me?”
#johnny sawyer#johnny slaughter#tcm johnny#slashers#slasher community#texas chainsaw game#texas chainsaw massacre#horror
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An Unlikely Encounter
Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Warnings: implied physical assault, alcohol consumption, allusions to smoking weed, explicit sexual content, jealousy, praise kink, dominant Jake
18+, MINORS DNI
TAGLIST: @torniturntomyarrow @ignite-my-fire
A/N: I’m so sorry, I wrote this in my drafts and can’t seem to figure out the word count now… but I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 4
You woke up screaming from the horrendous dream you’d just had, but the panic subdued quickly as you felt Kat’s arms around you.
“Hey, hey. Shhh… it’s ok. I’m here. I’m here.” She whispers softly, smoothing your hair gently with her fingertips. You begin to sob and she squeezes you tightly.
“Do you think you can tell me what happened last night now?”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows and lean against the headboard, cheeks puffy and tear-stained. Kat passes you a tissue and you loudly blow your nose into it.
“I guess…” you trail off. Kat places her hand on your thigh and looks at you, her face a picture of pure empathy. You honestly don’t know what you’d do without her.
“I thought you’d forgotten your key, like you always do. So I opened the door not even bothering to check through the peep hole. Connor was there.”
“That son of a bitch!! I’m gunna kill him!” She spits, eyes filled with fury.
“He was wasted Kat, fucking stank. He started saying some really vile things about me and Jake. When I tried to shut the door he lunged at me. If those men hadn’t been walking past I dread to think what would have happened.” Fresh tears spill from your eyes at the recollection.
Kat whips her phone from the bedside table and begins searching for Connor’s number, but you put your hand up in protest. “Please, no. I want to forget he exists.”
She frowns, but ultimately respects your wishes. “Ok, but if I see that waste of space, good for nothing mother fucker EVER again, I’ll rip his fucking head from his torso.”
Her brutality elicits a small giggle from your lips and she immediately softens her scowl, laughing along with you.
“What was your dream about?”
You sigh. “I dreamt that Connor got hold of me, and he hurt me really bad. Jake came back, but he saw me lying there beaten black and blue and just walked away. I screamed for him, but he kept walking.” Tears welled in your eyes again, threatening to escape and roll down onto your cheeks.
“Y/N, he would never. If he saw what happened, I don’t think Connor would be able to walk again… Jake cares about you.”
“I just don’t understand why, I’m a nobody. He could have any girl he wanted. I’m so damaged, I find it hard to let people in.” You grimace, picking at the skin around your nails.
“Because you’re a fucking worldie, babe.” Kat grabs your shoulders and looks you straight in the eye. “I wouldn’t be best friends with you if you weren’t special, you twat.”
~
The weeks went by quickly as you busied yourself helping Kat with her work, you’d even found time to record a few covers that you’d been meaning to do for a while. You loved to sing, but your ex couldn’t stand it. He always complained about the noise disturbing him. Slowly over the course of your relationship, your confidence dwindled to almost zero. You no longer found comfort in performing, only singing along to songs in the shower or as you worked. You had promised yourself that you’d get back into it when your relationship ended, so you sat there in Kat’s flat, fiddling with your mic and connecting it to the interface. It had been a while since you’d done this, so you played around with the settings on your software and took the time to familiarise. Once you were happy, you adjusted your headphones began to sing into the mic, a rush of euphoria hitting you as you perfected each vocal run. You’d settled on ‘Dreams’ by Fleetwood Mac, something you could easily grasp for your first song back. You made sure to record yourself with your phone whilst you were singing, so that you could add the audio to the clip. When you’d finished and were satisfied with how it sounded, you saved the clip and sent it to Kat.
Guess who’s finally back?
A few moments later, your phone pinged. OMFG, Y/N! You’re insane!! Post this, now.
You chuckled, shaking your head. Not just yet…
You packed your equipment away and wandered into the kitchen to make a snack. You swung the doors of the fridge open, spotting a rosy, red apple. You sliced it into segments and put them into a bowl, then cut up some mature cheddar cheese into cubes and popped them alongside. As you settled down onto the sofa and flipped the TV on, your phone pinged again. This time, it was Jake.
How is my gorgeous girl today? I am so excited to see you this weekend.
You instantly smile to yourself. Hey, Jakey. Really good thanks, had a productive day. How are you? I’m so excited to see you too.
A few seconds after you press send your phone screen lights up with a FaceTime call.
“I never get tired of seeing that face.” He beams. “What have you been up to that’s so productive?”
“Oh, you know, just helping Kat out with her admin and stuff.” You didn’t want to tell Jake that you sang, not wanting to draw attention to that part of your life.
“Nice, well we’re heading to the arena soon.”
“You’re in Denmark now, right?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful here in Copenhagen. I’d love to take you sometime.”
You and Jake speak for the best part of an hour, about the tour so far, and where he’d take you when he had the chance. He learnt about the places of the world you’d been to and where you aspired to go.
“I’d love to visit the States. I’ve never been.”
“I’m sure I could show you one day.” He spoke with such a genuine smile, which made you feel like he really enjoyed your conversations. His eyes sparkled as you bared your soul to him, his heart growing fonder with each revelation.
“Come on man, we’re late!” You hear Josh’s voice boom from the screen. “Hello, Songbird.” Josh directs to you. “How is my favourite girl?”
Jake’s face visibly changes, his brows knitting together. You and Josh had formed quite a solid friendship over the last week, you almost spoke to him as much as Jake. He even called you a few times, once whilst your favourite Fleetwood Mac song was playing. You softly hummed along to “Songbird” whilst you listened to Josh talk, and ever since that’s been his pet name for you.
“Hi bestie, I’m good thanks.” You giggle.
“Fantastic! We miss you” He looks away and points at Jake “Dude, we’re leaving! Now! Bye, Songbird, I’ll call you later after the show?”
“Sure thing, Josh. Break a leg!” You respond. Jake looks back at the camera, his face still crumpled.
“I’ll talk to you later, bye beautiful.”
~
A few days later you were rushing around Kat’s flat, throwing clothes and toiletries between you.
“You have to wear this to the show, you’ll look so hot!” Kat winks, chucking a garment at you.
You pick up the white leather mini dress and hold it up to your chest. It’s strapless and skin tight, adorned with small, silver sequins and tassels hanging delicately across the hemline.
“Kat, this is STUNNING! I can’t wear this, I’d be too scared that I’d ruin it!”
“Well, tough shit. I made it for you.”
Your mouth falls open. “Katrina Chiara Romano, is that why you’ve been spending so much time in your workshop?!”
“What? I had to make sure my bestie looked fire when she watches her boyfriend play live.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” You smack her arm playfully. “Thank you so much, you sly dog!”
Once you’ve both packed, you haul your suitcases outside and into the taxi. As you settle into the car and the driver moves off, Kat grabs onto your hand and squeezes it. You both squeal in unison, both incredibly excited for what lies ahead. You make it to the airport and the whole process goes smoothly, which is never usually the case with you and airports. You hate flying, but the excitement bubbling in your chest takes your mind completely off the journey. You both board the plane and you run down the aisle to nab the window seat. Kat sits down next to you and you immediately pull your phone out to snap a selfie.
“Say, Greta Van Fleet!” You cheer, throwing up a peace sign and pouting.
When you land in Portugal, the temperature is a far cry from the frigid London air you’ve been used to. Even though it was Winter, the climate was balmy and you’re glad you didn’t pack all woolly jumpers and scarves. You and Kat retrieve your bags and walk through to collections, both of you scanning the open space for any sign of the boys. A wolf whistle pierces through the silence which makes you both jump, you follow the sound and your eyes land on a huge cardboard sign that reads “Greta’s Groupies”. You both run over to the boys with open arms, Sam swiftly enveloping Kat in a tight embrace. Josh darts out ahead of Jake and scoops you up in his arms, twirling you around as you shriek with laughter.
“Songbird!” He trills.
“Joshua! I’ve missed you so much.” You smile, then look over his shoulder and yell “I’ve missed you all! Yes, even you Sammy!”
Josh puts you down and Jake is at your side instantly, taking you in his arms and pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Hello, beautiful.” He smiles.
“Hi, Jakey.” You breathe, your head spinning with emotion.
The reunion continues with the boys handing out warm hugs to both you and Kat, rejoicing in your company. Sam takes Kat’s suitcase from her and begins to wheel it towards the door, signalling that it’s time to get going to the hotel. You turn to grab the handle of your suitcase and notice that it’s no longer behind you.
“Hey, where’s my suitcase?”
“I’ve got it, Songbird.” Josh smiles. Jake walks to his brother and reaches his hand out, which causes Josh to raise his eyebrow.
“Dude, I’ve got it. It’s fine.” Josh mutters.
“No. I’ll take it.” Jake pushes Josh’s hand, snatching the suitcase from his grip. You frown, confused at the situation. Josh mirrors your confusion, but shakes it off with a laugh and extends his arm out for you to take.
“Shall we?”
You all pile into the back of a limousine, which is far fancier than you expected.
“Guys, was this necessary? A limo? Come on.” You giggle.
“Only the best for our girls.” Josh winks, playfully elbowing you. Jake audibly huffs.
“Hey, man. What’s up with you?” Danny probes.
Jake shakes his head “Just tired, I guess.” You extend your arm out and squeeze his knee, provoking a small smile.
~
Once you’ve unpacked in your hotel room and have freshened up from your journey, you make your way along the hall to find the others. You’re not sure why you’ve been given your own room, you assumed that you’d be staying with Jake for the duration of the trip. As you reach Jake’s door and go to knock you hear raised voices from inside.
“What the fuck is your problem, Jake?”
“My problem is that you’re getting really fucking cosy with her, Josh. What are you doing? You know I like her and you know she likes me!”
“Will you get your head out of your ass!”
“You always do this! Why can’t you just let me have the limelight for once?”
“I’m sick of your attitude, she’s a friend, Jake! A friend of mine, a friend of yours, a friend of Danny’s, a friend of Sam’s. Stop it with the jealousy!”
“She’s not just a friend to me and you know that!”
You bolt out of the way quickly as you hear footsteps approaching and hide around the corner, not wanting them to know you’d heard their conversation. Jake slams the door shut and storms down the hall, thankfully not noticing you. You gingerly approach the door and knock. Within a few seconds, Josh answers.
“Hey, sorry, Jake isn’t here.” He rubs his hand across his face, smoothing his facial hair downwards.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, do you want to come in?”
You follow him inside and sit down on the sofa. The room is big, with a sizeable bar section. Josh walks over and points at the plethora of liquor.
“You want? I’m having one, so it’s only fair that you join me.”
“Sure, whatever’s best.” You smile. Josh busies himself making your drink and you look around the room. You spot several crumpled up pieces of paper on the desk, but your eyes are averted away by Josh placing a glass in front of you. He sits down beside you and takes a long sip from his glass.
“How was your flight, Songbird?”
“It was fine actually. I’m not the best flier, but I was so excited that I completely forgot I was in the air.”
“I used to hate flying, but when you’re on tour as often as we are you get accustomed to it pretty quickly.”
You smile at him, your gaze falling to your hands as you pick at your fingernails. “Where’s Jake?”
Josh looks like he isn’t sure what to say, he bites his lip and begins to speak but he’s cut off by the door swinging open.
“Hey, man. Look, I’ve had a breather and I think I-” Jake pauses as he spots you both sitting there. “What the fuck is this?” His eyes dart between you and the glasses on the table.
“She came looking for you and I invited her in to wait.” Josh stands, brushing his hands across his slacks. “I’ll leave you to it, need to get ready anyway.” He pushes past Jake and disappears through the door. You look up at Jake, titling your head. He immediately softens and comes to sit next to you, as he brushes past your legs you’re hit with the overwhelming scent of weed.
“Have you been smoking?”
“Yeah, needed something to take the edge off.” He stifles a laugh, then clears his throat.
“What is up with you two today?”
“Nothing. Why, what did he say?” Jake straightens, clearly uncomfortable.
“He didn’t say anything, it’s just obvious there’s some kind of… tension.”
Jake sighs and runs his hands through his hair “There’s nothing wrong, beautiful. Just pre-show nerves, gets to us sometimes is all.” He pats your knee. You know he’s lying, but you can’t let on that you heard their argument earlier, so you place your hand on top of his.
“You don’t have anything to be nervous about, I’ve seen you all play countless times and you fucking own that stage.”
His eyes turn dark, as if your praise has washed away any memory of his current feelings. He brings his hands to your face and pulls you to meet his lips. You accept his advances hungrily, allowing his tongue to lap against yours. He moves his hands to your waist and pulls you on top of him so you’re straddling his hips. As he manoeuvres you, you make slight contact with his belt and can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips at the friction.
“Don’t you praise me and then make those noises, I’ll have to cancel the show so I can fuck you into my mattress.” He breathes against the shell of your ear.
You inhale deeply, suddenly extremely turned on. It’s been weeks since you last had any contact with Jake, and you’re already wet just thinking about the dirty, awful things that you’ll both do together later.
“You can’t cancel the show, as much as I want you inside of me right now.”
Jake groans, pulling you into him harder. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Jake, don’t start something you can’t finish.” You whine, your chest heaving with arousal.
“Oh, I’ll fucking finish you later, sweetheart. I’ll show you just how much I missed you.”
~
The boys were ushered off for soundcheck and that left you and Kat to get ready. You both did your hair and makeup, sharing a bottle of pinot noir between you.
“You look fucking hot, Y/N.”
“Says you, Sam’s eyes will pop out of his head!” You giggle. Kat was wearing a black lacy corset that cinched her tiny waist, enhancing her curves. She paired the corset with a pair of silky high waisted electric blue trousers which contrasted her auburn hair perfectly. She zipped up your dress and handed you a deep burgundy lipstick.
“This will finish the look.”
You swipe it on and look at yourself in the mirror. You do look good…
“Time to go!” You grab her hand and squeal. The two of you make your way over to the arena, your VIP passes swinging around your necks as you canter along. The security guard at the door checks your passes and gives you the all clear, and another member of the security crew escorts you backstage. Sam is the first to notice you both, bobbing his head with his mouth agape.
“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes! Two fallen angels!” He hollers, wrapping an arm around you both.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Kiszka.” Kat winks.
Josh rounds the corner and theatrically falls to his knees, placing the back of his hand on his forehead.
“Be still my beating heart. You are exquisite, my darlings.”
He’s wearing one of his famous jumpsuits, with his chest exposed. Rhinestones adorn his cheeks, sparkling in the light with every movement. He’s so beautiful that it takes your breath away.
“Joshua Kiszka, look at you. Prettier than a picture.” You giggle, opening your arms out to him. Just then, Jake and Danny appear.
“Lauren, Kat, you both look stunning!” Danny beams.
“You look fucking hot, Danny.” Kat raises her eyebrows, smirking.
“Well, thank you. I’m blushing.” Danny playfully covers his face with his hands.
You meet Jake’s eyes, he’s looking you up and down like he would devour you right now in front of everyone if he could. He’s wearing his signature black suit, the jacket open and showing his tanned chest and silver chains. He beckons you over with a curl of his finger. You excuse yourself and walk over, and his hands find your hips instantly. He pulls you close and whispers into your ear “You look fucking beautiful, that dress… I can’t wait to take it off you later.”
“Sorry to cut this short, but we need to head backstage. Brian will take you to your seats.” Josh points across to the crew member. “See you on the other side!”
You and Kat wish them good luck and follow Brian out into the arena to your seats. They are by far the closest you’ve ever been to the stage, right opposite the walkway that you know Josh and Jake will both use during the show. It was so odd being here on this side, with a view of the space that would be filled with thousands of screaming fans. You were once one of them, and you’d been swept up so quickly on this journey that you hadn’t had time to process it yet. You sat, expressionless, staring into the void whilst your mind whirred with endless thoughts. Kat notices and snaps her fingers in front of your face.
“You good?”
“Yeah, just thinking about how crazy this all is. A few weeks ago they had no idea who I was, now we’re like… besties.” You laugh.
“I honestly have no idea how you pulled this off, but I’m glad you did. You’ve been happier than I’ve seen you in years, and that’s all I care about. It’s been shit watching the life be sucked out of you, you have your glow back now.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around you.
“What would I do without you?”
“Fucked if I know!” She giggles.
The arena begins to fill up and you watch the fans sprinting towards the barricade. It feels like just yesterday that was you. After around 30 minutes, the opening act appears on stage and starts their set. You sway along, enjoying their vibe. It’s the same band that opened in London, but this time you were able to remain focused and listen to how talented they were. A part of you felt a spark of envy, this was something you’d always wanted to do yourself but never had the confidence to pursue. A few songs in you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s Brian.
“Miss Y/N, I’ve been requested to bring you back stage for a moment.”
You look to Kat. “Will you be ok for a minute?”.
She nods and ushers you towards Brian. You follow him down the steps and backstage. He leads you down the corridor and into a dressing room, where Jake is sitting. He stands as you enter.
“And what exactly do you want with me then, sir?” You smirk.
“I wanted to see you one more time before we go on.” He grabs hold of your hands and pulls you into him, his hands snaking around your waist. “You’re my good luck charm.”
“Is that so? I don’t think you need a good luck charm.”
His hands find their way to your face and he cradles it, then sweeps his fingers into your hair as he kisses you softly. You mirror his actions and entangle your hands into his chestnut locks, kissing him deeper. He gasps into your mouth and you feel his cock harden against your hips.
“Someone’s gagging for it.” You tease. He whips you around so your back is to him. With one hand on your throat, the other slips in between your legs. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers dance over your clothed clit.
“Keep teasing, sweetheart. You’ll be sorry later.”
The door swings open and you swiftly part, both looking sheepishly at Josh who has burst into the room. His face glows red and he averts his eyes.
“Uhhh, sorry… Thought you were alone. We need to head to the stage.”
Your hands fly up to your mouth as you attempt to muffle the laughter spilling from you. “Sorry, Josh. I’ll get back to my seat. You guys are gunna do great! See you after, my rockstars!”
~
The show is absolutely phenomenal. Just like you predicted, both Jake and Josh make full use of the walkway in front of you, strutting down it like they own the place. They steal the spotlight in their own special ways. Josh is flamboyant and eccentric in his movements and seems to glide across the stage, oozing charisma and charm. Jake, on the other hand, is just animalistic. The way he throws his head back and grinds into his guitar is quite frankly obscene, but you and every other girl in the room are completely mesmerised by it. If his mission was to arouse his fans, he was certainly fulfilling it. The way he locked eyes with some of the fans had you feeling a pang of jealousy, which you tried to keep buried deep down. It wasn’t until you saw him lean over the barricade to whisper into a fan’s ear that the jealously abruptly bubbled over. You saw red, balling your fists beside you until your knuckles were white.
“Hey, you ok?” Kat reaches down and puts her hand over your fist, and you immediately relax them.
“I don’t know what came over me, sorry.”
“Is it seeing Jake with those girls?”
“Yeah, but I’m being stupid. I’m not his girlfriend…”
“He’s sure treating you like you are.”
The night plays on and you witness a few more of these encounters between Jake and his female fans. Each time you feel your temper boil over, until you’ve finally had enough when you see him hand a pick to a pretty blonde. Luckily for you, the show is ending and they are finishing up their encore. You propel yourself from your seat and don’t even think about Kat as you storm down the steps. The band is making their way off stage as you round the corner. Jake calls out your name but you ignore him and keep walking down the corridor. You find the dressing room with Josh’s name on it and let yourself in, collapsing onto the sofa with a thud. A few moments later Josh appears.
“There you are, Jake was going out of his mind. I’ll go and-”
“No. I came in here on purpose. I don’t want to see him.”
Josh frowns and sits down next to you. “What’s happened, Songbird?”
“He’s been practically throwing himself at the girls in the crowd all night.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Josh places his hand on your thigh.
“I really don’t think that changes how he feels about you, it’s just for show.”
“It might not, but it’s still pissed me off. The worst part is, I don’t even have the right to be upset with him. I’m not his girlfriend, I don’t even know what this thing is between us. But he brought me here, and I thought…” you trail off, tears glistening in your eyes.
“Hey, he’d be a fucking fool to lose you, Songbird. Please don’t let it ruin your time here, and anyway, you have me.” He tilts your chin up to look at him and flashes you his signature toothy grin. You throw your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “God, I love you, Josh.”
“And I love you, Songbird. Come on, pick yourself up, we’re going out to celebrate.”
The whole ride to the bar you avoid eye contact with Jake, though he doesn’t stop trying to get your attention. As you’re mid conversation with Sam, Danny and Kat, you spot Jake and Josh having a hushed but heated conversation out of the corner of your eye. You just about make out Josh tell Jake to “not fuck it up, because Y/N is an angel walking the earth”. Your heart melts at the way he is standing up for you.
You’re the first to exit the cab and enter the bustling bar. There’s a live band playing and there are many people up dancing along to the rhythm. You walk over to the bar and immediately order a tequila soda, but as you go to pay Jake’s hand appears in front of you and hands the bartender a note.
“I said everything would be taken care of.”
You remain cold, not acknowledging his existence. You bring the straw of you drink to your lips and take a long sip, feeling the burn of the tequila slip down your throat.
“You gunna give me the cold-shoulder all evening?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” You respond, still not meeting his eye.
“Y/N. Look at me.” You ignore his request, taking another sip from your drink. His hand shoots out and grabs your chin, manoeuvring it so that you’re facing him.
“Talk to me.”
You shake your head. “I think I’m gunna go and dance.”
You remove the straw from your drink and down the rest, slamming the glass onto the bar and push past Jake to make your way to the dance floor. You find the rest of the guys there already, dancing along with Kat. You join in, shaking your hips to the rhythm and eliciting a wolf whistle from Sam.
“Damn, girl. You’ve got moves!”
With the tequila now in your system, your inhibitions are significantly lower. Your hand finds Josh’s and you tug on it until he’s face to face with you.
“Dance with me, pretty boy.”
He laughs and spins you around, then dips you down low. Your hands loop around his neck and his find your waist as your bodies move together to the music. You both shriek with laughter as you grind up against each other. You throw your hands up and slowly sway your hips side to side as you sink down onto your knees and back up again. Josh watches you, licking his lips. It’s clear he’s also under the influence, as usually it’s a lot more PG between the two of you. His hands find your waist again and he pulls you closer this time, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips. Suddenly, as if you both simultaneously realise what’s happening, you part. Josh rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I’m- I’m gunna go to the bathroom.” You mutter before exiting the dance floor. You hastily locate the single unisex stall and shut the door behind you. You lean against the sink and inhale deeply. What the fuck are you doing?
As you’re gathering yourself, the door swings open. Shit, you forgot to lock it. You spin around to find Jake standing there, nostrils flared.
“You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?”
“Jake, I’m-”
“My brother, Y/N?! I knew something was going on between you two!”
Suddenly you see red. “I beg your fucking pardon, Jake? There’s nothing between me and Josh! He’s my friend! And anyway, what about you and your fucking bimbo in the crowd?!” You spit.
He looks taken aback, not expecting that response from you, but quickly reverts back to anger.
“Is that what this is about? That’s nothing! I was being nice to my fans, Y/N. That’s all that was. God you sound just like her.” Before he’s finished speaking he already regrets the words that have fallen from his mouth. His eyes widen and he rubs his temples viciously.
“I sound like who?” You glare.
“Forget it. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not letting that go, fucking speak up.”
He sighs “My ex-girlfriend. I swore off dating when we ended things. She got so jealous of the life I lead, even though she knew what she was signing up for. I loved her, and she broke my heart. When I saw you with Josh, I thought history was repeating itself.”
“Her… and Josh?”
“No, it’s not like that. She tried it. Tried it with each of the guys. They didn’t do anything, so she just fucked the first person she could find instead. She did it all to get back at me, she thought I was sleeping with my fans. That’s not something I do, and not something I ever intended to do… until you. There’s something different about you, and although it scared me because of how badly my heart was broken, I couldn’t let you walk away.”
Your face falls. You’d been so stupid, thinking he’d drop you for the next girl that looked his way.
“Jake, I’m so sorry. I would never do that, I’m sorry that I got too close with Josh. That was never my intention. Maybe I wanted you to feel a bit jealous, but I would never ever cross that line. It was just harmless fun, or so I thought.”
“I really like you, Y/N. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t. I think… I think I’m falling for you and I can’t stop.” He closes the gap between you and caresses your cheek, his lips ghosting over yours.
“I think I am too.” You latch onto his shirt and pull him into you, your mouth melting into his. It feels like time slows to a stop, your lips on his and the way he’s holding you is all that matters. He’s like a shining beacon of light in a pitch black room. You break away at the sound of a knock at the bathroom door. A voice from the other side is speaking in Portuguese, a customer clearly needing to use the room for its intended purposes. As you exit the bathroom, the customer mutters under their breath. You don’t speak a lick of Portuguese but you’re certain they are complaining about the two of you being in there together. Jake walks ahead of you and re-joins the group who are now situated in a booth.
“Y/N and I are going to head back to the hotel, she’s not feeling too good.”
You begin to protest, but Jake flashes you a look. “Yeah, sorry guys. I hope you have fun.”
Josh shoots you an apologetic half-smile and you mouth don’t worry at him, then you bid your goodbyes and follow Jake out the door.
When you arrive at the hotel you expect Jake to split from you and go towards his room, but he walks behind you as you enter your room.
“I guess you’re coming in here then?”
His demeanour shifts as soon as the door is shut.
“Get on the fucking bed.”
You freeze, unsure of the change in atmosphere.
“I said, get on the fucking bed. Don’t make me ask again”
Your body goes into autopilot at the low boom of his voice, dripping in authority. You position yourself at the head of the bed.
“You’ve been a fucking brat tonight. Do you know what happens to brats?”
You shake your head, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights.
“They get punished.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, his dominance causing a gush of arousal to pool inside of you.
“Turn around.” He barks.
You obey his command and he begins unzipping your dress, exposing your bare chest and thong. He twirls his index finger, signalling you to turn back around, then uses the palm of his hand pressed between your breasts to guide you back. He pinches your nipple between his finger and thumb, then rolls it slowly. You hiss at the sensation. He takes your nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the hardened bud. Your back arches off the bed, it’s been weeks since you’ve felt him touch you like this and you need him like your lungs need air. With your nipple still in his mouth, he slinks his hand between your legs and begins to rub agonisingly slow circles over your pussy.
“So wet already, and I’ve only just begun.”
He releases your nipple with a pop and removes your thong. He pushes your legs apart so that you’re spread wide for him, then runs his fingers through your folds. Your hips buck up, so he uses his free hand to anchor your hips down. He dips his finger into your entrance and curls it up into your g-spot. You whine needily.
“More, Jake, please.”
“Uh uh, only good girls get to beg for more. You haven’t been a good girl, have you Songbird?” The use of Josh’s pet name for you in such a filthy way makes your eyes roll back into your head. He stops and withdraws his fingers from you, and you let out another whine.
“Answer me.”
“No, I haven’t been a good girl. I’m sorry Jakey.”
“Apologies won’t work on me tonight.”
He pushes his fingers back into you and begins to circle his tongue around your clit, picking up the speed until all you can hear is the sound of his fingers driving into your dripping cunt.
“Jake, I’m gunna cum.”
As you reach your peak and begin to pulse around him, he stops and sits up to watch the mess he’s created with the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face.
“Jakeeeeee!” You squeal. “Please, please. Let me cum!” Tears are forming in your eyes and you feel ridiculous.
“Cry all you want, princess. This is your punishment.”
“Please, I’ll be so good for you. Jakey, please.”
“You wanna be a good girl for me now then, hm?”
“Yes, I promise. I’ll be good.”
He stands and unbuckles his belt, letting it drop to the floor. He unzips his pants and removes them, along with his boxers. “Better put that smart mouth to good use then.”
You immediately drop to your knees in front of him and he sighs.
“Aren’t you a pretty picture, down there on your knees for me?”
You open up your mouth and swallow him whole, eliciting a moan from his lips.
“Fuck, baby girl.” He whispers through gritted teeth as you bob your head back and forth, taking his entire length into your throat. You want to give him your best, to prove to him that you’re willing to be good. His hand finds the back of your head and he grips onto your hair as you take him into your mouth. You can feel your eyes watering but you keep going, pushing through. Seeing his face contort with pleasure has you dripping down your thighs. You can feel he’s close when his cock begins to twitch in your mouth, so you quicken your pace, flattening your tongue and letting it slip along his length.
“Baby, I’m gunna cum.”
You rake your nails down the back of his thighs and he groans, his hips sputtering as he paints the back of your throat with ropes of his cum. You swallow it down and lick your lips, then rise to your knees and pull him into you. You kiss him and lap your tongue against his.
“You taste so good, don’t you baby?”
He grunts and guides you over to the bed, motioning for you to get on all fours. He pulls his shirt off and moves behind you, slipping his fingers inside of you.
“So fucking wet.”
He uses your slick to lube himself up and then pushes his cock inside you until he’s bottomed out. He thrusts into you at a delicious pace, his hand snaking around your hip to play with your clit.
“I wanna try something, just let me know if you are uncomfortable at any point.”
“Ok, I will.”
He brings his hand back around and sucks on his fingers, collecting his spit and then begins to rub circles around your back entrance. You jolt slightly, not expecting the sensation.
“Is that ok?” He asks.
“Yeah, I’ve just never done this before. But I’m willing to try.”
He massages into you and then leans in and lets his saliva drip from his tongue onto you, then pushes a finger gently inside. It stings at first, but once you get used to the feeling you enter a new realm of arousal.
“Holy fuck” you breathe. “More.”
“Are you sure baby?”
“Yes, more. Fuck me harder too, please.”
He gently inserts another finger into you and picks up his pace, thrusting deeper. You let out a string of moans and curses, rocking backwards to meet his thrusts. He curls his fingers up inside you and you feel the white hot coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to unravel.
“Fuck, fuck. Jake that feels so fucking good.”
He drives into you faster, flicking his fingers up with every snap of his hips. Your whole body is trembling with pleasure, you didn’t think it was even possible to feel this level of ecstasy after your initial experiences with Jake. It felt so dirty and wrong, yet so right at the same time.
“Jake, I’m gunna cum!” You barely make out the words before you’re plunging into the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. The dam inside you bursts and you gush around his cock, soaking everything in sight. As he pulls out of you, you hear him moan and he cums for the second time. You collapse onto your chest, still riding out your high. You lay there, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Jake sits on the bed next to you and brushes your hair from your face.
“That was… fucking amazing. I didn’t think you could make me cum any harder but, fuck.” You giggle hazily.
“You drive me crazy, Songbird.” Jake chuckles back. He tilts his head to the side and smiles softly.
“Shower?”
You prop yourself up and grin back at him.
“You know me so well.”
#jake gvf#jake kiszka#jake greta van fleet#jake lane#jacob thomas kiszka#greta van fic#jake kiszka smut#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka x reader#jake gvf smut#jakedown#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka gvf#jaket kiszka#jacob kiszka smut#jacob kiszka#gvf smut#josh greta van fleet#josh kiszka#josh gvf#twin lane#jtk
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Steve was concerned.
You were wrapped up in his arms, eyes red-rimmed due to both the weed you and Eddie had started smoking two hours ago and the tears that wouldn’t stop falling down your face. You were inconsolable.
When Steve had left you, maybe five minutes ago at most, you and Robin had been discussing karma and physics, pondering something Dustin had talked about earlier in the day the way only two stoned people could. Broken sentences whispered to each other, which left the other going, Woah in amazement.
Steve had needed to piss, he was a fair few beers deep, an argument with his parents earlier in the day loosening his usual restraint. When he had been on his way back from the bathroom, you had staggered into his arms with shuddering breaths.
All he had gotten out of you was incomprehensible apart from your constant sorry. Steves's eyes had gone wide as saucers and his chest raced in panic. His first thought was that you were about to break up with him.
He had heard footsteps down the hall and dragged you into his bedroom for some privacy. You had a tight grip on his wrist, and when you sat on the bed you pulled him down with you. Once he was down you clambered onto his lap and tightly wrapped your arms around him, your chin hooking over his shoulder as you cried into him.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve consoled, dragging his hands up and down your arms. You shook your head against his shoulder sniffling and choking on your own sobs. “Honey, whatever it is I forgive you,” Steve insisted. One hand moved to your head, cradling it, pushing it further against his shoulder.
“I’m.-” You broke off for a big sniff, gripping even tighter at his back, “It’s my fault.”
Steve slumped a little in relief at finally getting some kind of explanation out of you, however vague it may be. Your head inched out of its hiding place uncertainly. Steve pressed his forehead against yours, pressing a kiss to your nose as he cupped your cheek.
He let himself breathe, you were seeking his comfort, he was helping. You loved him he reminded himself. It was probably just a bit of weed-induced anxiety.
“What do you need?” He asked. “Water?”
You shook your head before he could even finish, clutching onto him tighter not wanting him to move. “You. But…but I don’t deserve it…I…”
Steve brushed his thumb over your cheek slowly, giving you the time to pull your thoughts together. He wanted to cut you off, of course, you deserved him, how could you even think anything else? He loved you more than he thought possible and you showed him the same amount of love back every day. He had never been so happy, never felt so accepted. It was the kind of unconditional love he had always yearned for.
“Dustin” You started. Steve immediately stiffened, he was gonna kill that little shit. “He was saying that like, you can’t make new stuff like it all already exists it just has to get transferred to new stuff, like…I can’t explain it but-” You struggled, your fingers tangling with Steves's hair as you tried to put it all into words. “Like energy can’t be made or killed just transformed or something”
Steve nodded along, trying to follow but you read the confusion on his face. “ like when you throw a ball and it hits the board and then it vibrates, it moved the energy?”
Steve nodded, urging you to continue, hoping knowing more would explain why Dustin’s impromptu science class would make you cry. “So it’s like karma because you have to have the balance right? Then Robin realised, maybe it's the same with feelings, like how people love or hate ABBA?”
Your eyes began to fill with tears again and Steve was quick to wipe them away. You made no further explanation so Steve figured you must be finished. “Honey,” He cooed, kissing your forehead and nose. “I don’t think you need to worry about ABBA not having enough fans,” He says, voice sticky with affection.
You almost threw yourself backwards off of him, only he caught you before you could fall onto the floor. “Don’t you see Stevie? I love you too much”
Steve tried not to smile, he really did, but he couldn’t help it. His girl was crying in his arms about loving him too much. Warmth spread through his body at your confession and he pulled you as close to him as he could get. Your chest pressed against his, heaving with sobs. “Sweetheart…”
“I stole all of your other love away so no one else can love you,” You cried into his chest, clutching at his jumper.
He couldn’t help but chuckle as he stroked the back of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap. “I don’t want anyone else to have it,” He assured, kissing you anywhere he could get.
“But-” This time Steve did cut you off, pressing his lips against yours as you finally looked up from his shoulder.
“No buts, I only need your love, no one else’s!” Steve didn’t realise, so focused on your tears that he didn’t notice his own begin to spill. “I love you so much, I’m monopolising all your love too, no one else is gonna get to love you like I do” He promised.
Steve finally felt you slacken in his arms. You pressed soft kisses to the beauty marks under his jaw tickling him until he finally giggled. It only spurred you on as you smattered sticky smooches on his neck and cheeks until he got a grip on your face and gave you the same treatment back.
He flopped down so his back hit the mattress, bringing you with him. You were still pulled against his chest, listening to the quick beating of his heart. “I love you Stevie” You signed in contentment.
The earlier upset left your mind as you heard his heart speed up in response.
masterlist
#steve harringon x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington brain rott#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanficition#i found this in my docs and it wasn't as bad as i remembered
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Black Coffee
Poll at the end
Soap gave Ghost a cup of black coffee from the cafeteria. It didn’t look that good, but he’d drink it.
Ghost shifted and Soap settled into his side. “Hate hospitals.”
“They’re not my favorite either.”
Ghost grabbed his hand and gently rubbed circles into it. The nurse told them a while ago that Jason was sleeping off drugs from surgery. He was doing fine, as fine as one could with a gunshot at least, but he was breathing.
“Can’t believe this all started because I had a crush on my barista. He was the one that dragged me into the coffeeshop.” Ghost stroked his inner wrist, tracing his veins.
Soap hesitated. “Your friends seem really concerned about something. I want to know what they’re worrying about.”
Ghost sighed. “My little… incident.”
He didn’t want to talk about this.
He had to though. Didn’t he? He had been avoiding it for weeks.
“Tried to kill myself.”
Soap flinched. Those pretty blue eyes went wide.
“It’s complicated. I got high on some underground stuff. Specifically for dragons. Works a bit like weed I’m told but that’s not how it went for me. Then I was in my bathroom and it didn’t seem like a bad idea.
Then a few days passed. Knew I was sober. And I still wanted to. So I did. Price found me. Said he had never seen someone so pale.”
“Bad trip?”
“No. Good trip. Just made me realize how fucking miserable I was. I thought of my life. Where I was. How many people I buried. And part of me gave up. Stayed down. I’ve pushed forward my whole life, but suddenly I just couldn’t.” Ghost drank the coffee. “You’re sweet, Soap. Really are. But you’ve seen the scars. I’m sure you can piece together some awful things happened to me. Then I came home and more awful things happened.”
“When I said those things…”
Ghost laughed. “Jesus, Johnny. I got upset. Made some questionable decisions. But I didn’t plan on bleeding myself dry any time soon. It’s been hard convincing all of them of this.”
Soap nodded. “I can imagine.” His fingers were warm as they pressed against his wrist. For a moment, Ghost though he was feeling for scarring before those fingertips settled right on his pulse.
“I’m alive, Johnny. And I’m right here.” Simon softened.
Soap shook his head. “I’m sorry. I-”
Ghost yanked his wrist away. “No. None of that. I don’t want apologies from you. I wish everyone would just move on. I keep giving people time and they just don’t move on.”
Soap nodded and looked down at his hands.
They sat in silence for a long while before a nurse let them know that Jason had woken back up.
Ghost stalked forward quickly, the world finally started to feel right again.
Jason smiled and sat up. “Did it work?”
Ghost stepped to the side to show him Soap. Jason immediately brightened.
“Nice to formally meet you, Soap.” He grinned. Dumb and toothy. Just like his best friend.
“Jason. Very nice to finally get to know you.” Soap grabbed a chair.
The two got on like a house on fire. Both of them had a lot in common.
Ghost felt himself falling into his normal silence, watching the two of them. Jason looked pale, but definitely alive. There was an IV pumping who knows what into his body and he noticed Jason hitting the morphine button every three minutes. One minute longer than the minimum. Smart. He did have an addicting personality. Better to try to wait as long as he could with the pain management. If he got addicted, Ghost would have to watch him. Make sure he stayed alive and not overdosing.
Jason hummed. “Simon. You’re doing it again.”
“Hmm?”
“Thinking super hard. You tend to go in spirals.” Jason smiled before looking at Soap. “If you see him scrunching up his mouth and looking distant, that’s why. Dangerous to let his thoughts wander.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Soap was getting all types of intel on Ghost. It made him nervous. He hoped no one else gave him any more information.
The universe was against him. He knew that once any of the other guys got around Soap, they would spill everything. It used to scare him. Being known.
But it felt okay, right now.
Jason told Soap a few stories from their childhood, mostly talking about Simon’s partying days. It felt like when he was a teen and his mom told his crushes stories about when he was a baby.
He realized after a minute that’s exactly what it was. Jason was doing it on purpose. The bastard.
The nurse kicked them out eventually and Soap held Ghost’s hand as they walked. They fell in step with each other and Soap kissed his hand a few times.
“Wayne.”
“What about him?”
“What do we plan on doing with him?” Ghost asked. “If you wanted, we could get him out of jail. Thought maybe you’d want face to face confrontation. Or I could snipe him for you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Taglist: @the-snarky-dragon @elevencloudsofnine-blog @lukewarm-chickensoup @nervouspsychologynerd @korym @cthulhusstepmom @princess-heathen @revenge-of-the-bucket-demon @roachboy @shadowsnowberry @crazies-unanimous @shiftylookingcrow @joltom @xenomorphee3 @thedeepvoidinmyheart
#johnny soap mactavish#john price#captain john price#ghostsoap#soapghost#simon ghost riley#soap cod#cod mw2#ghost cod#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare ii#alejandro vargas#rodolfo parra#rodolfo cod#Selkie coffeeshop au#Alejandro Vargas#Rodolfo Parra#Alejandro x Rodolfo#Aledolfo#Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II#Call Of Duty
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