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punkshort · 3 months

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somewhere to run | 12. the trial pt.1

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Madeline preps you for the first day of the trial and shares a surprise witness being called to Patrick's defense, and Patrick requests to speak to you unexpectedly.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (MDNI 18+), phone sex, m and f masturbation, dirty talk, mother issues (could be perceived as parental emotional abuse, and probably is), possessive!joel, recounting of previous DV and SA

WC: 7.2K

A/N: If anything in this chapter jumps out as you like 'I don't think that's how the law works', just move past it. I had Google and a dream.

Series Masterlist

The flickering florescent lights from the grocery store were starting to give you a headache as you slowly made your way up and down the aisles, occasionally stopping to grab a bag of chips or some mac and cheese. It was late. The store was quiet. You were supposed to be buying things to keep in your hotel room when you got to Austin, but you could hardly focus. You had the weekend to pack, buy supplies, and check into your room before meeting with Madeline on Monday. She was planning on using most of the day to prepare you for the trial, which was scheduled to start first thing Tuesday morning, and your nerves were a mess. And to make matters worse, Joel wouldn't be able to get to Austin until the morning of the trial.

The one silver lining was your divorce. Madeline felt confident after speaking to his lawyer that Patrick would be signing the papers this week. The cynical part of you wondered if there was a catch because Patrick was never one to take things lying down, but you tried to push it out of your mind. Instead, you focused on the variety of microwavable popcorn in front of you. Butter, lightly salted, movie theater... would you even notice much of a difference? You stepped forward to grab the first box you saw when another person unexpectedly walked right into you. You had been so lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even hear someone else coming down the aisle.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you began. When you looked up to meet their eyes, the polite smile you had forced across your face immediately fell.

"Nikki, hi," you said, taking a small step back towards your cart. "My fault, I wasn't paying attention."

She tossed you a thin smile and not so subtly eyed you up and down.

"Haven't seen you in a while. Read anything good recently?" she asked icily, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Not really. I haven't had much time," you told her, averting your gaze down the empty aisle.

"Oh, that's right. I heard you're getting a divorce," she said with a little pout, and you nodded as the heat began to creep up your chest. "Gotta make sure all those papers are signed before you go jumping into someone else's bed, right?"

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, lips parting in surprise. You thought she would have been a little more subtle than that.

"I hope you at least made sure he was worth it before leaving your husband for him, because woman to woman, I gotta warn you... it's nothing to write home about," she told you with a wink. You frowned and took another step back.

"I'm not leaving my husband because of Joel-"

"Oh, no, of course not!" she said cheerily.

"N-no, really, nothing's going on-"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," she whispered, giving you one more fake smile before turning on her heel and waltzing down the aisle, leaving you in shock.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered to yourself as you absentmindedly rubbed your eyes. Angrily, you reached out and snatched the box of popcorn before turning your cart in the opposite direction.

You hated the idea of someone in this small town having it out for you. She had been swaying the entire female population to turn on you just because she went on a couple dates with Joel and she figured out he had feelings for you, which was hardly your fault. But you thanked your lucky stars she didn't seem to know just how close you and Joel really were, because if she did, there was no doubt in your mind she would have spread that news like wildfire.

Impulsivity won and you swung your cart down the candy aisle, throwing far too many items into your basket.

To hell with Nikki. She had no idea what you were going through and you didn't have time for her high-school bullshit, so you forced yourself to move past it. Besides, you had much more important things to worry about. Like if you should buy Reese's or Snickers.

"I hate all my clothes."

"C'mon, they can't be that bad," Joel's voice filtered through your phone. You tapped the speakerphone button and dropped it onto your bed in order to free up both your hands, then held up two ugly blouses against your chest while you looked in the mirror.

"They really are," you told him, scrunching up your nose. "But Madeline told me if I wore stuff like this, it would look more sympathetic to a jury. Like I'm some poor, modest housewife in need of saving," you said with a roll of your eyes.

"Well, if Maddy told you to wear somethin' specific, you should listen to her. She knows what she's doin'. I've known her a long time, this isn't her first rodeo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you grumbled, picking up a couple of skirts that, in your opinion, were far too long and didn't make you feel very confident.

"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.

"Thanks, but you're biased," you teased, and you heard a soft chuckle float through the speaker.

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. There was a small pause as you continued to sift through your clothes, then he asked, "are you tryin' anythin' on right now?"

"No, once at the store was plenty," you huffed, then began folding the skirts up to place them in the bottom of your suitcase.

There was another pause before he spoke again.

"Then what are you wearin'?"

Your hands stilled and you sucked in a breath when you finally realized what he had been hinting at the past few minutes. Glancing down, you grimaced at your favorite pair of stained sweatpants and a tank top that had fraying straps, but you refused to throw it away because it made you feel skinny.

"A tank top," you finally answered, leaving out the part about your ratty old sweatpants.

"Mm, the white one?"

"Yes," you replied, your pulse already thrumming steadily in your throat at the line of questioning.

"Wish I was there with you," he said, his voice low just in case Sarah could hear from her bedroom. "I can see right through that top, drives me fuckin' crazy."

Glancing in the mirror, you realized he was right. You could see the outline of your nipples clear as day in the right lighting.

"Joel, is this a good idea?" you asked, but found yourself flopping down on your bed anyway next to your phone, your fingers dancing at your waistband.

"You're stressed, right?" he asked, his voice a little breathless now and you knew he must have been stroking himself. You've done this dance too many times.

"Yes," you whispered.

"Lemme help you relax, then."

You chewed on your lower lip as you stared up at your ceiling. You knew doing this with him complicated things and you were supposed to be able to take the stand in a few days and honestly say you weren't in a relationship with Joel, but the lines were too blurred and at this point, you had no idea how you would answer that question.

Then again, what difference would one more time make?

"Okay."

"Good girl," he murmured, and you felt yourself flutter at the praise. "Where are you right now?"

"I'm laying in bed," you told him, closing your eyes so you could focus just on his voice.

"And are you touchin' yourself?"

"No," you said, taking a deep breath. "But I want to." You heard him utter a soft groan.

"Go ahead. Just one finger and I want you to tell me how wet you are."

Slipping your hand under your waistband, you did as you were told, choosing the tip of your middle finger to slide through your folds and prod gently at your entrance.

"So wet," you murmured, then teased yourself again, collecting the arousal pooling there. "All wet because of you, Joel," you added breathily.

"Fuck, I wish I was there," he whispered again, and you slowly pushed your middle finger inside with a moan.

"W-what would you do?" you stammered as you felt the tension begin to build, a warm heat sparking low in your belly.

"I'd taste you first," he said lowly. "Only got to do it once, been dreamin' of doin' it again. You taste so fuckin' good, d'ya know that?" His accent deepened the more aroused he became, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"You're really good at it," you mumbled into the phone, your finger curling inside you, that one spot just out of reach.

"Tell me how much you liked it," he rasped, and a little groan slipped past your lips, your finger still pumping in and out.

"Loved it," you moaned, and you heard his heavy breathing now as he listened to you intently. "F-felt so good. God, that tongue... my thighs burned the next day from your beard. Felt it all night at work... thought about you s-so much. Fuck, Joel, I need more," you whined, your back arching pathetically.

"Add another finger and play with your clit, baby," he whispered, and you thought you could hear him fucking his fist on the other end, but his heavy pants drowned out the noise. You did as he said, gasping in relief at the extra stimulation while your legs began to shake.

"Joel-" you whimpered, but he cut you off.

"When this is all over, I'm gonna wake you up every mornin' with my mouth between your legs," he said with a grunt. "Would'ya like that? Hm? You want my tongue inside that tight little pussy? Want me to suck on your clit til you can't remember your name?"

"Oh, fuck, Joel, I-I think I'm gonna come," you cried out softly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your finger rubbed fast little circles over your clit, your hips rocking against the heel of your hand as you chased your release.

"Go ahead, lemme hear you. Say my name, baby," he panted, his voice cracking, and you knew he was close. "Tell me - shit - tell me I'm the only man who's ever made you come."

And you did just that.

You fell over the edge, his name tumbling from your mouth over and over as you soaked your own hand, and once you got your bearings, you moaned about how good he made you feel, how no one else could ever compare, how you couldn't wait until he was in your bed again because your own fingers no longer satisfied you now that you've had him. You kept talking until you heard a sharp intake of breath and a low, muffled groan on the other end of the line, leaving each of you quietly panting for air.

"Feel better?" he asked after a few minutes, and even though he couldn't see you, you smirked.

"Yes," you whispered. You could hear him shifting around in his bed, his sheets bunching up and the springs on his mattress squeaked. "I miss you," you added sadly, thinking about the one night you got to sleep in his bed. How comfortable you felt. How at ease it made you feel, and he wasn't even in the bed with you. Just being around him was all it took.

"Me, too. We're so close, baby. Just a few more days. A week, tops."

His words instilled a newfound vigor in you. The fear and anxiety you felt about the trial temporarily disappeared and instead, you felt powerful. In charge. Confident. And eager to take your life back.

Monday

"Have you heard from any of the other women?" you asked Madeline hopefully, and she gave you a quick shake of her head.

"Not yet. I'm sorry," she replied, knowing you were all crossing your fingers that some of the women Joel talked to in Philadelphia would change their minds and come forward, but as hard as he tried to convince them, they were all too scared to say something, putting you back at square one. He had high hopes for one girl in particular, Nina, but so far she had refused to answer his or Madeline's calls and time was running out. "Don't worry, hun. We still have all the evidence on our side. We have the medical records, I can prove years of abuse with that and testimony from the people you put us in contact with. I am confident we will win, regardless of the other victims," she told you, looking you dead in the eye, and you believed her.

"Okay," you replied, taking a deep breath and nodding your head. "And again, I'm sorry I couldn't get anywhere with my mom. Do you think we'll still do okay without her?"

Madeline sat back in her chair and slid her glasses off, holding them gently in her hands while giving you a look across her desk that made your stomach twist.

She had bad news.

"We would do just fine without her, but I found out this morning that she was subpoenaed by the defense."

You stared at her, not quite understanding what you were hearing.

"What does that mean?" you finally asked, and although you had an idea, you needed her to say it.

"She agreed to speak on Patrick's behalf."

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away, refusing to allow your mother to cause you any more pain. Before you could say anything, Madeline spoke up again.

"Don't let it upset you. They might think they're making a power move, but I'll destroy her on the stand, mark my words. It will only help our case and paint the picture of a lifetime of abuse," she told you, putting her glasses back on before looking back down at the file in front of her. You hadn't ever considered your relationship with your mother as abusive before. You just assumed most girls had problems with their mothers growing up. But if she was willing to help your husband over her own daughter, essentially supporting everything Patrick has done to you, then 'abusive' was really the only word you could use at that point to describe your relationship.

"Okay, what else," you asked hurriedly, looking down at your hands folded on your lap.

"Well since we are already on the shitty news portion of the day, I do have one more thing I need to mention, and before I tell you, just know you can do absolutely whatever you want, okay? Do not feel pressured to go through with it-"

"Just say it," you told her, and she took a brief pause before continuing.

"Patrick asked to speak to you before the trial. He's holding the divorce papers as a hostage. Says he will sign them if you speak to him."

Your eyes shot up to meet hers in shock.

That was not something you were expecting to hear.

"W-why would he want to talk to me?" you stammered, and you could feel your heart beginning to pound louder in your chest, the fear and anxiety quickly taking hold yet again, just like it always did when it came to Patrick.

"My guess? He probably wants to convince you to drop the charges in exchange for a divorce. And that is something we are not going to do, understand me?" Madeline said, narrowing her eyes at you. "If my hunch is correct, he's scared. He knows he's going to lose and he is desperate. We do not need him to play nice here. I can get a judge to grant an annulment if he won't sign, it will just prolong everything a little more, but the end result will be the same."

The idea of your divorce taking even longer made your blood boil. You wanted to be with Joel. You wanted this to be over. It was only supposed to be a few more days... a week, tops.

Madeline could tell you were spiraling because she put her pen down and stood up from her chair.

"You don't have to talk to him. You are under no obligation to hear him out. We can just go through with everything the way we planned-"

"I'll talk to him," you said quietly.

"I have to give you my honest opinion here. I don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm not going to drop the charges, but... I don't know. Maybe I can convince him this is over. And if not, I'll just get up and leave," you told her firmly, and she examined you carefully before sighing.

"Alright. I'll contact his attorney and set something up in the morning. If you change your mind, you let me know. Night or day, five minutes before you walk into that room, it doesn't matter, okay? You don't have to do this."

"I know," you said, "I want to."

Madeline spent the rest of the day briefing you on what to expect for the trial. After opening statements, Madeline would argue your case with the evidence she collected and the witnesses she subpoenaed, then Patrick's lawyer would have the opportunity to cross examine and afterwards, it would be their turn to defend Patrick with their own witnesses before closing statements and deliberation. Madeline guessed the whole thing would take two or three days at the most, and that gave you some relief. No matter what happened, this would be over by the end of the week.

"I'll call you to the stand last," Madeline said. "It's best if your testimony is freshest for the jury, especially right before the defense states their case."

"Okay. And what do I do when I'm up there? Should I look at the jury or the judge, or just you?"

"Look wherever you feel comfortable, but don't offer any extra information outside of the question being asked. We'll rehearse the questions I'm going to ask before you leave today, and when it comes time for the defense to cross examine, give as little information as possible. Yes or no answers. And they'll try to get you upset - don't let them. That's important, okay?"

"Yes," you said with a nod. "I understand."

After you ran through the questions, Madeline sent you back to your hotel room with the list for you to review and practice on your own, but your head was pounding by the end of the day. Your eyes burned and your mind was racing and all you wanted to do was sleep, but your body wouldn't let you. You ended up pacing around your room and trying not to let your anxiety about seeing Patrick in the morning torment you. You had just found a mindless cooking competition show to put on to help distract you when your phone pinged next to you on the nightstand.

Joel: All ready for tomorrow?

You: I think so, but I'm nervous. Can't sleep.

Pausing for a moment, you added another text.

You: I'm meeting with Patrick in the morning before it starts.

It took less than two minutes for your phone to ring.

"What d'you mean? Why're you meetin' with him?" Joel's voice asked aggressively the moment you answered the call.

"He's holding out signing the papers until he speaks to me," you explained. "He says he'll sign them if I talk to him. I figured there's no harm, he can't hurt me-"

"No harm?!" Joel exclaimed, and you quickly stopped talking. "All he does is harm! The fuck are you thinkin'?" he asked, sounding less angry and more upset now.

"Madeline said it'll take longer to get a divorce if he refuses to sign. I just want this over with, Joel!" you said, your voice beginning to break. "I don't want to wait a few more weeks or months. I'm fucking done! And if listening to whatever he has to say for twenty minutes gets him to sign the goddamn papers, then I'll do it! Because I can't do this anymore!" you sobbed into the phone, the tears you fought to hold back all day finally coming to the surface.

"Okay, okay, calm down," he said soothingly, and you took a few shaky breaths in. He waited until your breathing steadied before speaking again. "What time are you supposed to see him?"

"8:30," you said, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Alright, I'll be there," he said. "Just in case. I wanna be there."

"You can't come in the room with me, Joel."

"You can't go in alone," he argued.

"Madeline said the conference room they booked has a door with a window. You can both watch from the hall."

He grumbled to himself on the other end and you waited, chewing on your lower lip nervously, for him to say something.

"One wrong move and I'm puttin' his head through the fuckin' wall," he muttered.

"That wouldn't exactly help your lawsuit," you reminded him.

"You let me worry 'bout that," he said, and you yawned. He must have heard you because his voice softened. "You gotta get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"I know," you replied, and although you felt like you wouldn't get much restful sleep, your eyelids were still getting heavy.

"I'll be there bright and early, alright? And I'm stayin' til it's over."

"What about Sarah?" you asked sleepily.

"She's stayin' at a friend's house. Couldn't be more excited about it. Practically kickin' me out," he said with a chuckle.

You laughed as you stared blankly at the TV, watching some poor girl cry when her crème brûlée burnt. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel bit his tongue on the other end of the call, holding back the words he really wanted to say but knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, he said "good night, baby. See you in the mornin'."

Tuesday

As expected, you tossed and turned all night. It was clear as day when you caught your reflection in the mirror and winced at what you saw. The bags under your bloodshot eyes wouldn't be tamed by the concealer Maria bought you so long ago, but you tried your best, anyway. After picking out the least ugly shirt and skirt combination, you made sure your hair looked decent before taking a deep breath and stepping out the door of your hotel room.

The first step towards your freedom.

You were proud of yourself. You had actually managed to not let the nerves get to you until you entered the courthouse and saw Madeline tapping away on her phone, wearing a dark blue pantsuit and hair pulled back in a simple bun, with a black leather suitcase hung over her shoulder. She looked up when she heard you approach, giving your outfit a nod of approval before enveloping you in a quick hug.

"You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you said, giving her a nervous smile. Your hands were beginning to shake as she walked you down a secluded hallway towards the conference room she had booked for your conversation with Patrick. You could feel your chest tighten with every step you took, but when you turned the corner and saw Joel leaning up against the wall in a brown suit with another man you didn't recognize but assumed was Patrick's lawyer, you instantly felt relief. When his eyes locked with yours and he gave you a small smile, you felt even calmer.

You could do this.

"Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?" Madeline said next to you. Glancing through the window in the door, you saw Patrick sitting at the table in a rumpled jumpsuit, his handcuffed arms resting on the table as he stared down as his fingernails. You nodded and looked at Patrick's lawyer.

"Does he have the divorce papers, or do you?"

The lawyer gave you a polite smile before replying "I do, miss."

You nodded before taking a deep breath, and glancing at Joel one more time to remind yourself why you were doing this, you twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room.

Patrick lifted his head up when you walked in and gave you half a smile, but you just shut the door behind you and walked to the other end of the table, as far away from him as you possibly could get, and sat down.

He stared down the table at you, giving you his most charming persona, the side he always brought out when he knew he had gone too far and wanted to make amends. You folded your hands calmly on the table and tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to speak. Minutes ticked by, inching closer and closer to your trial time as you waited, refusing to be the one who bent first.

"New clothes?" he finally asked, and you quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, looks like you got some new clothes, too."

You patted yourself on the back for the jab, but you didn't show a hint of the smugness you were feeling when you saw a quick scowl flit across his face.

"Alright," he said, leaning back in his hair and lifting his hands up in mock defeat. "You win."

"What did I win?" you said with a frown.

"This," he said, motioning between the two of you. "You want outta this so badly, fine. I'll sign the papers. I'll leave you alone."

"Great," you said, trying to keep the tremble from your voice.

"You gotta drop these charges, though, baby. This shit could get me killed, you know that?"

"Don't call me baby."

He sat forward suddenly, making you flinch. "What the hell do you want me to call you, then?"

You took a steadying breath and glanced at the door, catching Joel's eye before looking back at Patrick.

"I'm not dropping the charges."

He shrugged and dropped his hands loudly on the table. "Then I ain't signing the papers."

You looked at Joel again. His lips were pressed in a thin line as he watched the two of you and you wondered if he could hear anything through the door.

"What about the charges against Joel? Would you let it go and sign if I dropped the charges?" you asked quietly, and that caught Patrick's interest. He smirked and folded his hands on the table.

"Oh, no. Can't do that. I got your boyfriend right where I want him. Got a rockstar witness that'll help me take him for all he's got. Hope that kid of his is smart, she's gonna need to get a scholarship for college. Daddy ain't gonna have two dimes to rub together when I'm done with him."

Your jaw clenched and your nostrils flared as you stared at Patrick across the table, doing your best to rein in your anger and not say something stupid.

"You don't have shit against him," you spat, and true to form, he couldn't help himself. He just had to show his hand.

"Bullshit. Got that girl he was on a date with that night at the bar willing to testify he had it out for me, that he was obsessed with you and would do anything to get rid of me," he sneered, looking quite pleased with himself.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. You knew Nikki was pissed, but this was going too far.

"Then it doesn't sound like we have anything else to talk about," you said, standing up. You made your way to the door, passing by his chair, when he spoke once again.

"You're not gonna win, you know. They don't put cops in jail. Juries feel too guilty, knowing how dangerous it is."

You looked down at him, finally seeing him for who he really was: a pathetic, desperate, sad excuse for a man. No matter how long it took for Madeline to finalize your divorce, you would do it the right way. You've suffered for years, a few more months wouldn't kill you.

And then you would be free.

"Hope you're willing to bet your life on that," you said before turning on your heel and swinging open the door.

Joel was at your side in an instant, following you and Madeline down the corridor towards the courtroom.

"Do I even want to ask?" Madeline said over her shoulder.

"You were right. He wanted me to drop the charges in exchange for signing the papers," you told her, then glanced up at Joel by your side. "I said no. We're doing this the right way."

"Good," they both said at the same time. Your hand itched to reach out and hold his, but you knew you couldn't, so you settled for gently brushing your knuckles against the back of his hand and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

When you entered the courtroom, which was much smaller than you expected, your eyes immediately drifted around to the scattered few people seated in the spectator chairs. You had completely forgotten about your mother, and seeing her sitting there, on the other side of the room as your cousin, with her hair pulled back tightly and wearing a navy blue dress you hadn't seen before, sent you into shock. Fortunately, she stared straight ahead, avoiding your penetrating gaze, so you looked away and made eye contact with your cousin, who gave you a tight smile and a thumbs up.

Then you heard Joel suck in air next to you and you glanced up at him, following his gaze to Michelle, who was seated a few rows behind the plaintiff's table.

"What's she doing here?" you tried to mutter under your breath.

"Don't know," he replied quietly, turning his focus away from her.

Madeline swung open the doors for you to step through and take a seat behind the desk, where she joined you and began to open up her briefcase and spread out all her files on the table. Joel slid into the row of chairs right behind you, and if you took a deep breath, you could smell him. Gone was the putrid cologne, the only thing he ever had in common with Patrick besides his profession. All that you could smell was him. His natural, masculine scent mixed with a subtle hint of his deodorant and some hair product. A smell you had grown to love and crave.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed you had less than five minutes before the trial began. More people began to stream in. Witnesses on both sides, some you recognized and some you didn't. A few cops that you knew were close with Patrick on the force sat together in full regalia, no doubt trying to win favor with the jury with their choice in clothes, just like you.

You had a chance to look at Joel just one more time, one fleeting smile and wink from him before the doors swung open. Patrick and his lawyer marched up to their table, both of them avoiding looking in your direction as they got settled in just in time for the bailiff to announce for the room to rise, and moments later the judge and jury walked in.

You were holding up better than you expected. All of these months of preparation finally paid off. You were more confident after each witness Madeline brought up to the stand. She started with a couple old co-workers of yours, who didn't have much to say other than they had asked you a few times about your bruises and you had made up excuses, but they always suspected something else was going on. Patrick's lawyer stood up and objected when they hinted at your husband being the cause, and the judge agreed. Madeline backed off her line of questioning and once she was satisfied, announced no further questions before sitting down. Patrick's lawyer - Beckett Kennedy, you learned - chose not to question them further.

Next was your cousin, Mary, who testified she knew Patrick was hurting you, but as Beckett would clarify for the jury later under cross examination, had no proof other than your word. She explained how you continually went to her for help, that she helped you get on birth control without Patrick's knowledge, and how you confided in her the night before you fled to Texas.

The next witness in your defense was Carol, the doctor Joel had brought you to after Patrick's most recent assault.

That was when things got rocky.

There were blown up images of your injuries being projected in front of the entire room, including some that blurred out your privates, but you still found to be absolutely humiliating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying not to show too much emotion as Carol explained in great detail all of the injuries you had sustained not only that day, but historically as well. Madeline called into evidence your old medical reports from the hospitals back in Philadelphia, and Carol gave her expert opinion on each one, explaining in layman's terms what each and every note meant so that the jury could understand.

Every single cut, bruise, laceration, and broken bone was discussed as you stared down at your hands in your lap, your cheeks burning. You heard Joel shift behind you in his seat and you tried to take a deep breath, tried to catch his scent to calm you, but you were too far away or maybe it wasn't strong enough and the urge to turn around and bury your face in his neck for comfort was overwhelming.

Finally, Madeline finished up with Carol, thanking her for her time before sitting down next to you. She gave you a wink, trying to reassure you everything was going smoothly, and you gave her a small smile in return.

Beckett then got up to cross examine Carol. He tried to poke holes in her medical expertise, tried to question her knowledge about sexual assault and if she could truly be considered an expert in that particular field of study when she was just a general practitioner but Carol sat tall and told the court she was an OBGYN for ten years and that she very much had a vast amount of knowledge in the area of female anatomy.

After Beckett insultingly tried to suggest pap smears and the occasional birth could hardly make Carol an expert in trauma, she was excused.

"We have time for one more witness, Maddy," Judge Dean, an older man with bright blue eyes and absolutely no hair on his head, announced before she stood up and took a deep breath.

"The prosecution calls Sheriff Joel Miller to the stand."

After Joel raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, he sat down and adjusted his blazer, then glanced at Madeline expectantly. She gave him a warm smile and started slow. She thanked him for traveling all the way to Austin to give his testimony, asked him to verify how long he had been town sheriff, and asked him to give an approximate idea of how many incidents he had encountered in his tenure for domestic or sexual abuse.

"So it sounds like you're no stranger to this type of crime."

"Unfortunately, no," he replied.

"The plaintiff didn't call the police when she was assaulted, is that correct?" she asked.

"That's correct."

"Can you explain how you came to find out she was hurt?"

Joel took a deep breath and glanced quickly at you before looking back at Madeline. "She works as a waitress at the diner in town. See her almost every day for lunch. One day she called in sick, I had a hunch somethin' was wrong and her apartment's on the way back to work, so I stopped to do a wellness check on her."

"What caused you to have a hunch, sheriff?"

"The day before, I saw the plaintiff and defendant at a coffee shop. I witnessed the defendant put his hands on the plaintiff in an aggressive manner and it raised some red flags," he explained calmly.

"And when you went to her apartment to do a wellness check, what did you see?" Madeline asked, looking up from her legal pad with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. You dropped your gaze to your lap. You could remember that day vividly. The shame and embarrassment and the pain all came rushing back, and you tried to blink the tears away as you focused on Joel's answer.

"It was clear the plaintiff had been attacked," he began, and only because you knew him so well, you could hear the slight strain in his voice. "She had a gash on her forehead, a split lip, a bruise on her cheek and scratches all down her neck."

Madeline hummed as she picked up the remote for the projector and flipped through the images that Carol had gone over. She stopped on a picture of your face with wounds that matched Joel's description and you noticed out of the corner of your eye a few jurors shake their heads sadly.

"Are these images the injuries you're describing, sheriff?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"After you performed the wellness check, what happened?" Madeline asked, setting down the remote but leaving the picture of your beat up face on the monitor. You knew she was doing it to garner sympathy and help paint the picture Joel was describing, but it made your stomach turn.

"I encouraged the plaintiff to seek medical treatment and press charges."

"And that is when the plaintiff visited Dr. Carol Parker, correct?"

"That's correct."

"I noticed at the same time, the defendant was in holding, is that true?" Madeline asked, and Joel nodded.

"Yes."

"Why was he arrested, sheriff?"

"He was drunk and disorderly in public the night before, so I took him in to sleep it off."

"Were those the only charges against him?" she asked.

"No. He also punched me when I was attempting to make the arrest, so he was also charged with assaulting a police officer."

"And when the plaintiff came to the station to give her statement, that was when the additional charges were filed, correct?" Madeline asked, picking up the remote to switch to a slide of the long list of charges against Patrick.

"Correct."

"I also see here a restraining order was filed to protect the plaintiff."

"Correct."

"And did the defendant obey the restraining order?"

"No, he did not," Joel said, straightening up in his seat. "He showed up at the plaintiff's place of employment and tried to intimidate her. Threatened her." You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering that night when Tommy and Thor stood up for you. How scared you were, how hopeless you felt and then Joel arrived, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"And the police were called then?"

"Yes. Maria Miller, one of the owners of the diner, called down to the station and spoke with my deputy, who then called me on his way down to the diner and I met up with him there."

"To arrest the defendant for violating the restraining order?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And did you?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk and crossing her ankles in front of her.

"Not that evening, no. He couldn't be found," Joel said. You stiffened in your seat, bracing for what was coming next.

"Can you tell me what happened after you arrived at the diner?"

Joel swallowed and glanced briefly in your direction again before answering. "I took the plaintiff back to her apartment so she could get some things and stay elsewhere for the night. We were worried the defendant would try to harm her and thought it best she stay away from her residence until he was apprehended," he said, pausing for a moment. "But when we got there, it was clear the defendant had already broken in-"

"Objection," Beckett announced suddenly.

"Sustained."

"Allow me to rephrase," Madeline said, pushing off her desk. "What did you witness when you arrived back at the plaintiff's apartment?"

"It appeared the place had been broken into," Joel began. "Her belongings were destroyed. There were holes in the drywall, dish-ware broken, graffiti on the walls, and what smelled like urine in her bed."

Madeline used her remote to flip to images of your apartment from that night, and when the one of your bathroom came onto the screen, you heard a low murmur from the people behind you.

"According to my notes, you sent out a pair of officers to process the scene the next morning, along with a forensic analyst, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I would like to draw your attention to exhibit 6C, the forensics report," Madeline said, clicking the remote to another slide where a document appeared with the label Exhibit 6C at the bottom. "What can you tell me about this report, sheriff?"

"Objection. The witness can hardly be considered a forensics expert, your honor," Beckett said, standing up.

"I believe he's proven he has many years of experience and can answer basic questions," Madeline argued. "I will wait until tomorrow to question the forensics analyst in more detail, but I believe the sheriff has the ability to answer one simple question today."

The judge looked back and forth between Madeline and Beckett as he considered his answer.

"Be careful, counselor," he warned Madeline, then turned to Joel. "Go ahead."

"The DNA taken from the mattress matched the sample we took from the defendant at the station, so we brought additional charges against him for breaking and entering once he was arrested."

"And when did you finally arrest him, sheriff?"

"The following day."

"Can you please describe for the court how and where you found the defendant?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk again. You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap as you listened.

"We found him in a crack house with some locals and a couple prostitutes."

"Did he resist arrest?"

"No, this time he was too high and passed out-"

"Objection!" Beckett yelled. "Speculation, your honor."

"Sustained," the judge said, frowning at Joel, but Joel just kept his gaze trained on Madeline.

"No further questions, your honor," Madeline said, turning on her heel to sit back down next to you.

"Your witness," the judge said with a nod in Beckett's direction, and a smug smile spread across his face before he stood up. He paced in front of the bench for a few moments, trying to build up the anticipation, and it was working. Your heart was thundering in your chest as you watched him walk slowly back and forth, but Joel appeared to be perfectly calm as he waited for his first question.

When he stopped pacing and you saw the look on Beckett's face, you knew exactly what was coming. It was the moment he had been waiting for. The bombshell. Their only chance at swaying the jury in their favor thus far, and he was ready to strike.

"Sheriff, have you ever had sex with the plaintiff?"

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Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog @mrsparknuts @missladym1981 @spacedoutdaydreamer@prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts @picketniffler @pedroslittlelady @noisynightmarepoetry @ameagrice@stevie75 @sunbellylou @guelyury

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

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lemonlover1110 · 2 months

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 23] Apologies

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“What do you need, Satoru?” You’re more than annoyed when you’re called into his office. You cross your arms, raising your brow as you look at him. The man looks a little too comfortable in his chair, and you’ve seem to stop caring about how he behaves. If you looked closer, you’d see him fidgeting with his fingers, something he rarely does.

“I was wondering…” He begins, and you feel yourself get more and more irritated by the second. He’s wasting your time. “Do you have any plans on Friday?”

“Work, and maybe take Ren to the movie theater to watch a new kids’ movie.” You answer, and at first you don’t understand why he asks. But then it clicks, and you find yourself even more irritated than before… He’s not planning on asking you out, is he? He’s not crazy enough to do that, at least you hope he isn’t. Satoru has changed a lot, you never know just how crazy he’s gotten.

“Can we go out?” He blurts out, tripping over his words and it almost makes you laugh because he’s so nervous. But then you realize that he’s actually asking you out, and you furrow your brows.

“Ren is coming along, right?” You question before deciding to berate him. Maybe you’re reading things wrong, and you don’t want to argue with him for no reason, so you allow him to make himself clear. But he shakes his head, and you try to take a deep breath to gather your thoughts, “What do you want, Satoru?”

“I feel like we have to properly talk about everything, and sadly, we can’t do that when Ren is around.” Satoru says, and he isn’t wrong, but you don’t really want to fix anything if it means that you have to be alone with him for an extended period of time. You’re not sure what you’d do if you were alone with him, the moment you get your hands on him you might strangle him.

“I don’t feel like it’s time yet, Satoru.” You tell him, and he bites his tongue. He thinks of how to argue with you, make a point that going with him is a smart decision. It’ll improve your relationship so you can be better parents to Ren.

“Ren notices there’s something wrong with us and he wonders why.” Satoru points out which isn’t a lie. When Ren was staying over he asked why you were so mean to him or something like that, and Satoru didn’t know how to explain himself. But he knows well that it isn’t the reason why he’s asking you to dinner.

“Why don’t you tell him that it’s because his dad is a little–” You begin but you cut yourself off. You’re mad at him, you can’t deny that, but it seems that he just wants to make sure your relationship is better so you can parent Ren cordially. You have been rather mean with him lately, so you’ll control your tongue. “I just don’t see the point of going out alone, our relationship can get better with Ren there..”

“Don’t you want to talk about heavier topics? You’ll have to tell me what’s on your mind, and you know that having Ren there isn’t the best idea.” Satoru argues, and you hate the fact that he’s actually making a good point. “It’s a nice place.”

“Fine, just text me the address and the dress code. Don’t take me anywhere too fancy, I usually don’t like the food there.” You answer, and Satoru nods in response. He has very different plans. Ones that probably aren’t crossing your mind.

Ren is fairly surprised when you tell him that you’re going out with his daddy– And you aren’t taking him along. He’s unsure what you could possibly do, but when he hears that he’s staying with your mom, he stops caring quickly. Ren loves spending time with his grandmother, so he doesn’t have an issue being with her all night.

“Where are we going?” You ask Satoru when you get into his car, and he tells you that it’s a surprise. You’re not exactly excited nor do you wonder what the surprise is. The car ride is quiet, Satoru tries to make conversation that you don’t care to engage in even though you know you should. This is to talk about the issues that you have, but you don’t really want to talk.

He turns right, and you’re met with a gate which makes you furrow your brows. Where the hell did he take you? The gate opens and he drives into the place. The house is beautiful, you can’t deny it, but you have no idea why you’re here.

“Why are we here?” You ask him when he parks the car. Are you here for business? The lights are on so you assume someone lives in the place. He’s fighting back a smile, getting out of his car and running to your side to open the door for you.

“We’re meeting someone here.” He tells you, and you almost roll your eyes. You should’ve known dinner couldn’t have gone so smoothly. “I promise it’ll be fun, nothing weird.”

“I have no option to trust you, do I?” You respond, following behind him after getting out of the car. You look at the house, one that you could only afford in your dreams. Well actually, it isn’t impossible now. Regardless, it’d take so many years of your own effort to buy it.

You get confused when he opens the door with his own key, and you sigh, knowing that he’s just going to show off his new place. You step inside, and the place is bare, which is to be expected since it seems new. You clear your throat before speaking up, “Who exactly are we meeting?”

He grabs your hand, and you roll your eyes again but you don’t yank your hand out of his grasp. He takes you to the huge kitchen, and he points to the person you’re meeting. Satoru says, “This is our chef for the night. He’ll make whatever you want to eat.”

“Oh.” You’re fairly shocked, but you aren’t too mad. “Okay…”

“I hope it’s better than a restaurant.” Satoru laughs, trying to play it off as a thoughtful act. It is creative, and you can’t exactly complain. But you know that part of the reason he does this is because he doesn’t really remember what you like. “C’mon let’s take a seat. I’ll tell him what we want when you decide.”

“Well… What can I order?” You ask curiously, wondering what the chef has on hand. Sometimes you forget that Satoru is filthy rich and can buy out an entire grocery store without an issue.

“He’ll make anything you want.” Satoru answers with a smile as he leads you to the dining room. It has a huge table, one that reminds you of his mother’s house. It’s huge, it can fit many people, but most of the time it’ll be empty. He waits for you to take a seat, knowing that if he takes a seat first, you’ll go as far away as possible. “When you decide I’ll tell him.”

“I really don’t know. You can pick.” You respond, pulling a chair and taking a seat. He takes a seat right beside you, and you tense up. You can’t help but point out, “You have so many other chairs.”

“We’re here to talk, are we not?” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. He isn’t wrong, but he doesn’t have to sit so close when there are so many other chairs. You don’t want him so close. He clears his throat before saying, “Dinner is for you, you can pick.”

“I guess…” You try to come up with something but you don’t. Satoru taps his finger on the table, growing impatient. “Can’t you just pick? I’ve already been forced to be here tonight.”

“Fine.” Satoru ends up sighing. He stands up and walks to the kitchen to put in his request, leaving you alone to stare at your surroundings. It’s a beautiful home, but you would change the little decorations that you’ve seen. It’s not up to you anyway.

You hear your phone ring, grabbing it from your purse. You notice that Suguru calls, and you debate on rejecting the phone call– You’ve been ignoring him for so long, but it’s about time you answer his call. Satoru is in another room so you can make it quickly. You end up picking up the phone, bringing it to your ear, “Hi Suguru.”

“Hi…” He answers, sounding shocked that you actually picked up the phone. “Can we talk?”

“Um…” You don’t know how to answer. You just know you have to do it before Satoru gets back because you’re not sure that Suguru hearing Satoru’s voice is a good idea. You don’t know your way around the house, but you stand up from your chair and walk out of the living room, just in case Satoru gets back and makes himself known. “Actually, I’m out to dinner with someone so I can’t right now… Do you want to meet up soon?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” He agrees. “So, what do you want to do?”

“How about we meet at a café?” You ask, and you hear Satoru call out your name, telling you that you have to hang up the phone. “I’ll text you the details, I have to go now. Bye.”

You hang up the phone, and turn around to find Satoru, who finally spots you. He raises his brows, asking, “Who were you talking to?”

“Does it concern you?” You reply which makes Satoru chuckle. He guesses it doesn’t. You two walk back to the dining room, sitting back in the same spots. You start off with a simple appetizer, and some drinks, food that you know Satoru loves. You eat in silence, and you’re forced to speak up, “You insisted that we have to talk, so talk, Satoru.”

“I want to… Apologize.” He begins and when he doesn’t get any more specific, you reply with,

“For?”

“For…” It’s hard to get the words out even though he knows exactly what he should apologize for. He bites down his lip as he gathers his words. How can he say it without sounding like a total jerk. He blurts out, and you barely understand what he says, “For leaving you when you needed me without an explanation.”

“And?” You respond because he’s still missing a bit. You feel yourself getting more annoyed by his silence, and you have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. “I mean, you left me for money, is that the best you can do?”

“I just don’t know how to properly apologize, you should know I’m not used to apologies.” He claims, and you roll your eyes. Of course he says that instead of thinking of a way to apologize better. He watches you cross your arms, a look of clear anger on your face. “I shouldn’t have done that, I know.”

“You know? But you changed your number and completely cut me out of your life– And not for love, because as much as it hurts, I would’ve preferred you leaving me because you fell in love with someone else… Maybe I would’ve understood it better.” You begin, and you feel your heart break again. You thought you had gotten used to the fact that Satoru left you for his own financial benefit. “I don’t even get why you cut me off completely… Maybe if you had explained everything to me then maybe I could have stuck around but you decided that you wanted me out of your life completely.”

“I just thought you deserved to move on and forget about me.” Satoru argues, and your hands ball up into fists. He’s trying to save his own ass, and it bugs you. The benevolent Satoru. “I just didn’t know you were pregnant with Ren.”

“You know, Satoru, it hurts to know that you were fine with leaving me like nothing– And honestly I’m glad that you cut me off when I was about to tell you that I thought I was pregnant.” You feel tears well up in your eyes but you hold them back. It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re over it. You are. “Have I never been worth anything to you?”

“Of course you do, you are–” You cut him off before he can finish his sentence.

“Not just as Ren’s mother, because before that I was your friend and your girlfriend for so many years.” You try not to let it show that you’re deeply hurt, but it shows. It’s hard not to because the man that you swore you would spend the rest of your life with quickly disregarded your relationship… And the only reason he seems to regret everything is because of his son. “Was your love just a lie?”

“It’s not like that. You know that I love you so much.” He says and his words sting. How dare he say that he loves you? How does he have the audacity to say that? “I just…”

“Just what?” You don’t even give him a chance to finish his sentence. “Don’t you ever say that you love me again, Satoru.”

“You know my mom would’ve made your life miserable if I hadn’t gone with Sayo, in the end, I did what was best for the two of us.” Satoru argues, and you stand up from your chair. You can’t stand to be in the same place as him anymore. He watches you begin to walk away and he has to stand up as well, “Wait, let’s finish this, please. For Ren.”

“No, I have to go. I can’t stand to be in this place with you any longer. You’re so… Why can’t you just admit that you’re fucking selfish? Not only that, just admit that you haven’t cared about me, Satoru. I have always come second to you, and suddenly you’re acting like you aren’t at fault for this, that your mother forced you to make the choice when we both know that you made that choice all on your own.” It genuinely hurts you that Satoru ended up being a completely different person– Or maybe Satoru was this same person all along, you just hadn’t noticed it before.

“You’re right. I did. I made the decision all on my own and I can’t blame anyone else.” He finally admits, which should give you some satisfaction but it doesn’t. You’re taking deep breaths to stop yourself from crying but the tears are coming down your face. Satoru’s heart breaks as he finally watches you break down, and he steps toward you to comfort you. He pulls you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.”

It’s so tempting to hug him back, but you can’t. You push him away, you don’t want to be met by his warm embrace; you don’t need his comfort. You wipe away your tears, “I’ll forgive you for Ren, but don’t you ever try anything with me.”

“Okay…” He responds, but knowing Satoru, the last part went in one ear and out the other. “C’mon, let’s sit down, our main course is almost ready.”

“I want to go back home to my baby boy.” You tell him, and Satoru sighs. He can’t argue and say anything that’ll make you want to stay a little longer, so he won’t keep you here.

“I also had a surprise for you.” Satoru mentions, but you aren’t really interested. “I’ll tell you when it’s more ready though, and when you’re less mad at me.”

“Let’s just go.” You respond, really not caring to ask. He doesn’t spark curiosity in you. Just as you begin to walk out of the dining room, your chef comes out with the main course. He sets it down on the table, and your eyes spark. You look back at Satoru a little shocked but you proceed to tell him, “I changed my mind.”

“Really?” He has to fight a smirk off his face. You really thought you had him read like a book, but perhaps you are wrong in some aspects. He jokingly asks, “Why is that?”

It’s your favorite meal.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 11 months

Text

Middle Class Lady Who has the Gang Sneak in Her Window

"The gang falling for a woman of a higher class and a father that doesn't approve of them so they usually sneak through their window to be together" @livingdeadgirly

Genre: Fluff - some angst if you squint (Fem Reader uses she/her pronouns) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: Mentions of guns, outlaw type of stuff

AN: I'm so sorry these took me forever to write! if some of them seem a little out of character please ignore it and pretend they aren't :D ---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Your father owned his own saloon which gave him an incredible insight into the type of men who frequented his establishment. He thought of this as a blessing once you started growing older and wishing to be courted, he could keep an ear out for anyone that he deemed unworthy for you.

Unsurprisingly, anyone who frequented the bar was not someone your father wanted anywhere near you. Especially when it came to an outlaw by the name of Arthur Morgan. The two of them had a long-standing feud (actually it was your father who hated Arthur and Arthur was too busy being infatuated with you to notice).

The first time Arthur was seen speaking to you in front of the saloon, your father came barreling through the doors to usher you inside. He instructed you to never speak to him again. Of course you didn’t listen.

Months go by and Arthur has made an extreme effort to get as close to you as he can without your father’s knowledge. The two of you will just so happen to go to the same general store at the same time every Friday by ‘accident’, you just so happen to run into him when you take your horse for a little trail ride to exercise, and every once in a while you both somehow end up behind the theater at on show nights by some strange chance of fate.

After a while, you’re so sick of having to keep your interactions short and sweet and secret in the public eye (lest anyone witness it and run off to tattle to your father). You write a quick letter to Arthur one day asking him to meet you at the side of your house at midnight.

When he gets there and you’re nowhere to be found he’s beyond confused; it’s not until he hears a sharp whistle and looks up to see you waving at him from your second story window that he understands your plan.

“The things I do for you, woman.” He grumbles with a smile and begins hoisting himself up the tree conveniently located right by the window.

You’ve already got the window open as he reaches the top and you begin helping him crawl inside. Now Arthur is a large, bulky man he isn’t exactly as nimble as he might have been once upon a time. You can barely contain your giggles as he lumbers into the room ungracefully and nearly face-plants into the rug on your floor.

“I ain’t had to do this since I was a boy,” He smiles down at you once he steadies himself as you grin up at him widely.

“You’re still young enough to climb through a lady’s window yet, Mr. Morgan.” You tease.

It’s the first time the two of you have ever truly been alone since you met and the tension in the air is palpable. Arthur looks between you and your carefully cleaned and decorated bedroom, then down at his dirty boots on your rug and worn denim pants. He was the complete opposite of you - he didn’t deserve to ruin your space with his grimy life and clothes.

“What you thinking about, Cowboy?” You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to make him look back at you. He’d confess a few of his doubts, not trusting himself to tell you that he doesn’t deserve you flatout, and you’d shake your head and lead him over to your bed and have him sit down.

You’d kiss him and quiet his thoughts, allowing your actions to say more than words ever could and from that moment on he’d find himself climbing up a tree every other night.

Your father didn’t figure it out ever, even though Arthur and you were hardly ever quiet.

John Marston:

You were the most beautiful person that John had ever seen in his entire life. You were walking in the middle of town with some man nearly twice your age and John figured you were married to him - some lady victim to a man with money and a ring.

John fantasized about swooping you into his arms and saving you from a life of excruciating monotony. He’d tell the old man to kick the bucket, maybe rob him of whatever cash and valuables he had on him, and let you live your life free with him.

When he overheard you refer to the man as your father John felt absolutely giddy. He took his hat off and tried to smooth his hair down as he moved to approach you and introduce himself.

Your father watched the outlaw walk up to the two of you with a skeptical eye. He was hoping the cowboy would walk past you, but he stopped right before you and held out his hand to you. “John Marston, Miss….?” He prompted.

Your father shut it down immediately. He was so incredibly unamused that he stepped between you and John and shoved his arm down. He told John to basically get lost, but John ignored him and kept his eyes on you.

It was like love at first sight.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his and couldn’t hide the growing blush that heated your cheeks as he ever-so-slightly smiled at you. A small smile that disappeared as your father demanded his attention.

“Now son you get out of here before I get angry. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, you got that?”

John wanted to laugh at his vague threat. Who did this guy think he was? John put both hands up to show he meant no harm and took a few steps back.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it, sir,” He shrugged, “Was just being friendly.”

Your father scoffed saying he didn’t want any of John’s kindness and neither would you. You caught John’s eye while your father was speaking and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a sweet smile.

John was smitten immediately. He may seem like a big tough outlaw, but the guy is secretly a huge soft romantic. He was already envisioning your wedding and the type of house you two would build together in the middle of the prairie where no one would bother you and you could leave your respective lives.

He may have been getting ahead of himself.

Your father dragged you away and into the general store, John went off to finish a few more errands. He didn’t think he’d actually ever see you again until the moment he went back to his horse to ride back to camp.

He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and there you were looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

From that moment on the two of you had to meet in secret - away from the watchful eye of your father. John took to sneaking in your bedroom anytime he got the inclination to see you (which was a daily occurrence tbh).

He’d take a stroll around the house to make sure your father’s room lights were off and see if yours were on and you were still awake. Due to his frequent visits, you were always up late waiting for him to call on you.

It was all fun and games until he’s waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to climb back out of your window before your father woke up to find him lounging in your bed. That would be a messy scene.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Dutch thought he was too old to have to worry about meeting parents and getting the approval to see the lady he fancied. He was an old dog; he liked younger women of course but never the type who were of a higher social standing than him and needed that.

Then he met you.

You swooped into his life with your pretty dresses and sweet words and you didn’t want him at all at first. It made him want you even more.

It’s no secret that rich men are corrupt and willing to meet with anyone to make a quick buck. Your father met with Dutch to provide some intel about a train full of valuables and treasures that were interesting to both parties involved. Your dad wanted a cut of what was on that train provided the Van Der Linde gang robbed it.

Your father wasn’t a good man. He enjoyed money a little too much, and saw you as property more than his daughter. He was overprotective of you - to the point that he refused to ever let you out of his sight for even a second.

You went to every meeting between the two men and at first didn’t give a damn about Dutch. You thought he was handsome, but not the type of man you’d ever be interested in. Not until your father warned you to stay away from men like that.

He even went so far as to comment that he didn’t like the way Dutch looked at you. It fueled something inside of you. The idea of rebelling in such a way. Dutch was attractive, he had money, an exciting life, and most of all it would piss your father off if you courted the gang leader.

The next time there was a meeting between the three of you, you bat your eyelashes and laughed at Dutch’s jokes a little too hard.

Dutch bid you farewell by kissing the knuckles on your hand, and you loved the way your father basically had smoke coming out his ears at the action.

Your father didn’t bring you with him the next time he went to a meeting with Dutch. He locked you in your room, and only unlocked the door to check on you before bed that night.

You were pouting and writing a long sob-story in your diary when you heard a soft tap on the glass of your window.

You pulled back your blinds to see Dutch crouching in the dirt by your window with a wicked grin on his face.

“Can I come in, Darlin’?” He cooed with a sweet voice. You opened your window immediately and he ducked through the frame.

“You didn’t come with your father today, he said you didn’t want to attend the meetings anymore.”

You explain that you’ve basically been kept a prisoner in your room all day since your dad was convinced Dutch was trying to steal you away from him. You grumble out a few curse words after you explain and roll your eyes.

“What if I am tryin’ to steal you away?” Dutch whispered, his eyes dark and sparkling in the lamp light. You didn’t realize how pretty he was.

You bite your lip and smile, trying to keep on a tough act at his words. It’s no use, though. He’s charming, it’s why he is who he is.

“Maybe I’d let you,” You reply in a sultry low tone.

That’s all Dutch needed to hear. He helped you pack a small bag of items to bring with you and he brought you back to the camp where the gang was staying.

On your bed, you left a note telling your father you were running off with a man. Shortly after that Dutch mailed out a post saying he didn’t want to do business with your father anymore. It was all settled.

He stole you away to join him at camp, and that’s where you stayed.

Javier Escuella:

You met Javier by chance one night when you were being harassed by a local lawman after a night out at the theater. Javier rushed to the alley when he heard your shouts ordering the man to stay away from you.

Javier saw red and let his instincts take over him. He grabbed the man by the collar of his very nice shirt and used it to throw him to the mud.

“The lady asked you nicely to leave her alone. Now, I won’t be so nice if I have to ask. So, tell me, do I have to be the one to request you leave her alone?”

The man scrambled in the mud, splattering it on his dress pants and coat, as he picked himself up and ran away.

Javier introduced himself and offered to walk you home. You were a little wary of him at first, what with the guns at his belt and the knife at his thigh, but he assured you that he was not a threat. He just didn’t want you risking getting harassed again on your journey to your house.

You took him up on his offer and as he dropped you off at your front door you gave him a quick, shy peck on the cheek and asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to visit again in the future.

Javier is a blushing bumbling mess but somehow finds the words to agree and see you again later on in the week.

From that point on, this man spoils you in every possible way. He brings you flowers, fine pelts, jewelry (don’t ask where he got it), and little poems he writes or likes just so that you have a little piece of his heart.

Does your father care about all of that? No. He just cares about Javier’s status as an outlaw, a killer. He’s heard the rumors about the Van Der Linde Gang and he refuses to allow one of the members anywhere near you.

Javier is willing to do anything to see you, though.

You started leaving your windows perched open during the warm summer nights, and a low whistle alerted you to a person sitting right outside the glass. Your curtains were fluttering slightly with the wind and so all you saw was the shadow of a figure causing your mind to think of the worst scenarios possible.

You drew a knife from your vanity and clasped it in your hand ready to call for your father, but you heard a familiar voice lowly call out.

“Mi amor?”

You let out a sigh of relief and pulled the curtains back fully to see Javier smiling at you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. “I wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You asked him to wait outside while you barricaded your bedroom door with a stool, then opened the window wider for him to duck inside.

At first he didn’t really know what to do with himself, he planned to give you the flowers and have a quick kiss before needing to leave - he did not expect you to usher him inside.

You took the flowers from his hands and placed them on your dresser next to the box of trinkets and gifts Javier has given you before.

You sit on your bed and make a spot for him to sit beside you. He isn’t really sure what the gentlemanly thing to do is in that situation, but just to be safe he sits on the floor by your feet. He’s gazing up at you as if you were the moon itself and doesn’t even try to hide the way his breathing quickens every time your eyes meet.

It becomes routine for him to visit you nearly every night and wait for you to barricade your door before allowing him in. Eventually he gets more comfortable and feels better about sitting next to you on your bed - though he knows it was not the proper thing to do.

He really wanted to court you the proper way, but with your father being so hesitant to know him outside of his status he had to be a little lenient on conventional courting methods.

Charles Smith:

Charles has been sneaking into your room for years.

You were childhood sweethearts, but your father had hated the relationship from the moment you expressed any sort of soft feelings for the boy.

When he first started sneaking in, it was just because your father didn’t want you to be friends. You and Charles were inseparable, so he’d sneak in when he could to read your books and play with your toys while your father was at work.

As you grew older, your feelings grew too.

You developed a strong crush on Charles and he was completely oblivious to it. At first, since you didn’t know how to express your feelings, you pushed him away and told him to stop visiting you.

Charles was crushed when you essentially told him to get lost. He couldn’t understand what caused your change of heart - he figured maybe your father had finally gotten to you and you realized you were too rich, too pretty to be his friend.

Charles stopped climbing through your bedroom windows and started only seeing you in public spaces or whenever you took your horse out for a ride.

Eventually, though, even those interactions dwindled and Charles stopped seeing you altogether.

It broke you when you didn’t speak with Charles anymore. You thought it better that way. He couldn’t find out your feelings for him - especially since you were certain he didn’t feel the same way.

Years go by, you stop seeing Charles even in fleeting moments. You heard he ran off and was living alone in the wilderness.

It was your fault, you thought. You pushed him away during his time of need and now there was no way of knowing what became of him. Whether he was alive or dead.

You grow older, your heart growing cold and calloused, and you never really recovered from the hurt you put yourself through.

One night, you’re a passenger on a train taking you deeper into the west of America when there was a loud commotion at one end of the passenger car you were in.

You put down your novel and see a group of masked men with weapons demanding valuables from every patron they pass by. They were slowly moving down the aisle, approaching where you were sitting at an alarmingly fast pace. You couldn’t think of a way out of the situation without giving away every last bit of money you had on you.

That is, until one of the masked men gets to you and instead of the harsh demands and pointed threats you expected to hear, you hear your name being whispered softly.

You look up, skin ablaze with fear and eyes watering. Through your tears you can see a familiar set of dark brown eyes peering down at you as if you were a ghost.

“Ch…Charles?” You squint. You questioned if it was just a mirage, a trick of your brain due to fear, but there was no doubting it. Those were Charles’ eyes.

He softly grabbed you by the arm and helped you out of your seat.

“Come with me,” He whispered as he pushed you through the aisle towards the exit. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”

It was stupid, but you blindly agreed as he led you out of the train and onto the dusty earth.

Charles and you caught up as the rest of his posse finished robbing the passengers of the train. You learned that he had been taken in by the Van Der Linde gang and was making a living as an outlaw. After seeing what you did on the train, that part of his story checked out.

You caught up with him as well, you informed him of your father’s fate and how his will left everything to you. How you regretted pushing him away as a teenager and how you wished he could forgive you.

“I never even hated you for it,” He said softly, “There is nothing to forgive, it’s how the world is sometimes. Cruel.”

You tried to explain your feelings at the time, but the embarrassment of it never let you fully explain.

Charles offered to take you home, but you wanted nothing more than to continue catching up with him and learning about his new life, his new family. Charles took you back to camp, and you ended up staying there with him for a few weeks. (For a fee of course, as Dutch had so cleverly thought up)

Your feelings for Charles rose to the surface once again, and you weren’t sure when or if there would ever be a time to explain how madly in love with him you were.

Sean MacGuire:

The first time y’all met was when he was sneaking through your window late one night.

Dutch had given Sean a vague plan about robbing a local lawmaker’s house while the man was scheduled to be two towns over for some political business. Dutch figured it would be a quiet, simple mission to grab some extra loot and not worry about being caught.

Sean paced around your house a few times after midnight the day your father left, and when he didn’t see any lights on or movements he figured it was safe to go in.

He checked a few key points of entry, but the windows on the ground-floor were locked and he didn’t want to risk leaving any evidence of there being a break-in for when the lawmaker came back.

Sean noticed that a window on the second floor was open the tiniest sliver, he’d be able to use a dagger to wedge it open wide enough to slip his hand in and open it fully.

He climbed up some vines growing on the side of the wood paneling and pulled his dagger to wedge it open. Once he got himself inside, he turned towards the window to close it.

His entire body stiffened when he heard the metallic click of a pistol being cocked from behind him.

“Now I’ll only say this one time, Mister, you need to get outta here before I blow a hole in you and make a mess all over these clean floors.” The threat was serious, Sean knew that, but he couldn’t help but perk up at the sweet sound of your voice as you told him you were going to shoot him if he didn’t leave.

He put his hands up, dropping the dagger he had, and turned to face you slowly. The house was dark. Shadows danced across your face and shielded your eyes making you look lethal with the gun pointed at his chest. Sean thought you were beautiful.

“I mean no harm, Miss. Just business ‘s all,” Sean gave you a toothy smile which only made you narrow your eyes.

You told him you were going to give him one chance to leave and he’d only stay if he had a death wish.

Sean wanted nothing more than to stay with you and use whatever methods he could to woo you, but he was familiar with the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice. He was scheduled to meet the gods above if he didn’t slip back out that window and into the night.

After he left, he was already planning the ways he could meet you again - under more favorable circumstances of course. He decided to visit you the next day with a peace offering and a smile.

Once dawn broke over the horizon, painting the world in a golden orange light, Sean was already up and out of camp heading to your large house on the hill.

He knocked on the door and you answered after a few minutes. Your hair was messy from sleep and your nightgown was covered by a long robe that was hastily thrown on to save your modesty.

“What the hell?” You grumbled and looked at Sean as if he had grown three heads. “Either you are the stupidest man on the planet for comin’ back here, or you truly do have a death wish. If it’s the latter give me a second to grab the gun.”

Sean was in love immediately.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I never woulda thought ‘bout stealing from a man with such a pretty woman living under his roof.” He handed you a small box saying that it was a piece offering. Inside was a large silver coin and a note that said ‘thanks for not shooting me’.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but pocketed the coin and note nonetheless. You invited him in, but warned him any funny business would not end favorably for him. He only shot you a coy smile and promised that he was only coming as a gentleman, not an outlaw.

The two of you grew as friends at first but once things seemed to grow more romantic, you had to start sneaking around and avoiding your father finding out about the relationship and how it started.

Sean was glad he got the practice sneaking in your window that first night, though, because it was common practice while the two of you had to keep your romantic relations a secret.

Sadie Adler:

Sadie was a shell of herself when you met her.

She was still mourning the loss of her husband and trying to become accustomed to her new life as a member of the Van Der Linde Gang when you stumbled into her one day.

She was just starting to get back on her feet and was at the tailors in town when you strolled in with your fancy clothes and styled hair.

She wasn’t intimidated per say, but she felt a little inadequate in comparison. What with her ragged hand-me-downs from Miss Grimshaw and her few coins that she saved to buy a new linen shirt - you were like royalty compared to her.

You approached her first at the tailors. You asked if she had been in town long as you didn’t recognize her, where she came from, where her husband was (assuming she was married). Sadie didn’t know how to answer all the questions you threw in her direction.

You broke down her walls, though. You bought the shirt that she wanted and even invited her to tea with you at your house to talk about what had been plaguing her the last few weeks.

She didn’t want it to help, but Sadie could physically feel the relief flood her chest as she stopped holding on to her emotions and let them flow freely. A friendship between the two of you grew quickly and rapidly.

Then, it grew to be a little more.

Sadie had been working on jobs with Arthur and gaining her confidence back. In doing so, she finally got the nerve to kiss you goodbye one night when she was getting ready to go back to camp.

She gazed at you nervously after she did it. She couldn’t figure out what your expression meant - whether she went too far, or if you even liked her back in that way.

Tears slipped from your eyes as you looked up at her and grabbed her cheeks, shoving your lips against hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle, but yours was aggressive and needy. You didn’t realize she felt the same way about you, and knowing that she did created a swell in your heart that never went away.

After your first kiss, you had to keep your relationship on the downlow. Your father knew that the two of you were friends (he hardly liked even that), if he found out that y’all were girlfriends he would separate you for good.

Sadie came up with the plan to visit you during the day as a good honest lady of society, but at night she would climb up through your window to enjoy spending time with you as a partner instead.

Friend by day, girlfriend by night.

Sadie slipped through your window every other night, quieter than a shadow when she came in. Sometimes you’d turn around and she would just be getting in and it would make you squeak a little as it startled you.

She kissed you to keep you quiet when that happened, though (teehee)

Sadie would spend hours with you at night. You’d help her brush her hair when there were missions she was on that took days and she wasn’t able to care for her locks. You’d let her borrow your nightgowns if she ever wanted to stay and relax in your bed until dawn.

The two of you would hold each other and talk until the mourning doves sang their melancholy songs in the early hours of the morning.

<><><><>

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general-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Hopes And Fears. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3,073

Gif Not Mine. Requests are open!

Warnings: Violence, Swear Words, Hints Of Rape?

I’m not too sure how I feel about this to be honest but it’s my first fic since coming back and I would love to write for Wally more so please send requests! I might continue with this if people like it, I’m not sure yet though.

“Homecoming game tonight. Are you nervous?”

Closing my locker, I look to my left to see Abby, my best friend since elementary school. We’re inseparable. People find it odd that we look like we are complete opposites and yet we are the platonic loves of each other's lives. She’s a very loud and extroverted theater kid, I’m quiet, shy and introverted. Though in a weird turn of events, I became head cheerleader. Kind of ironic right?

“I’m not too worried. We’ve been rehearsing everyday, sometimes twice a day. I think we might actually have our best routine yet, I just hope we can pull it off.”

“You’ll be great, you always are. Besides I heard Spencer is going to ask you to be his date for homecoming.”

Abby’s words catch me off guard. Spencer is the Split River High quarterback. While typically the head cheerleader and quarterback are perfect for each other, I’m way below his level that the thought of us being together is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine it, that’s how ludicrous the idea of us is. Not that I would complain, Spencer is model level attractive, an academic genius and of course, insanely popular. Any girl would die to be his homecoming date. Me included.

“Don’t be stupid.” The blush on my cheeks is a vibrant red as I speak, leaning against my locker with my books clenched against my chest.

“I’m being serious. Some of the other football guys were talking about it in study hall. Apparently he’s got some sort of big surprise planned.”

Her grin is wide, clearly happy for me, though I can’t match it. I still don’t believe it, that sort of thing does not happen to girls like me. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me. That’s just the way high school works, maybe I’ll blossom when I head off to college at the end of this year but for now, guys keep their distance. My mom always told me that high school guys like girls that are easy and that because I know my worth, guys don’t even attempt it. I’ve always hated that idea though. If nothing else but for the slightly sexist and anti-feminist ideals that it pushes.

“Not to alarm you Y/N but he’s walking down the hallway.” Abby tells me, grabbing my forearm tightly, obviously excited. “I think he’s headed this way so that’s my cue. Have fun, text me all the details!”

With that she scurries away, flashing me a cheesy smile over her shoulder as she speeds down the hallway. Almost bumping into several other students as she does so. I laugh slightly, always entertained by her antics before hearing the metal of the locker next to me clang at the sound of somebody leaning against it.

“Mind if I steal you for a second Y/N?”

Spencer’s voice is charming and smooth, a relaxed smirk on his face as he stares down at me. His eyes are intoxicating and I feel as though I’m drowning in them. There’s no way Abby could be right. God, if she is I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could live with that though, especially if it does result in Spencer potentially being my boyfriend.

“Sure, yeah, okay.”

Spencer’s smirk grows wider, and as he leans in to take my hand in his, I catch a whiff of his cologne. A dark musk that matches the darkness of his eyes and hair perfectly, it takes everything in me not to collapse right then and there. My senses are completely heightened and I can feel the roughness of his hand against my palm. The butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m about to explode from my nerves and before I know it we’ve made our way to the old block of showers that were closed in 2004, following an incident involving an inappropriate relationship between a student and gym coach. New showers were remodeled and these were left to decay.

Spencer takes my books out of my hands, placing them on the bench that sits in the center of the room before turning to face me. His hand gently cups my cheek and although his smile is soft and loving. His eyes hold a mischievous glint. Without saying anything he leans down to kiss me, unprepared and a little shocked I step backwards.

“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know you liked me.” I tell him, shuffling backwards again as he continues to approach me.

“Everybody likes you. I’ve just been wanting to save this for a special occasion, and what better time than homecoming?”

With my back pressed against the wall, a soft smile forms on my face as he cages me in. Though it doesn’t feel threatening, it feels new and exciting and my insides are on fire waiting to see what happens. I feel as though I finally understand what the cringey teen movies are talking about when they discuss sex and love and passion.

“I really like you Spencer.” I whisper, voice barely audible, gazing up at him through my lashes.

He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before leaning down once again. This time his lips do touch mine and it’s nothing like I imagined. He’s rough, hands moving down to grab my breasts , almost painfully. The softness from before clearly disappeared. As much as it is a dream come true to be making out with the guy of my dreams, I’m still disappointed that this is how my first kiss turned out. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and its uncomfortable, I know this isn’t how it is supposed to go. As I try to pull away, to allow myself some air, his hand grips my throat, holding me in place. Continuing his almost aggressive movements.

“Yo Spence, did you get the bitch?”

Finally, he pulls away. I manage to take in some air despite his hand still wrapped around my neck. He’s looking over his shoulder, nodding his head. The rest of the football team stands in the doorway, menacing looks on their faces as they see me in such a vulnerable position. I hear the click of the door lock, and the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel so good anymore. The energy in the room shifts to one of darkness and evil, no trace of kindness and love.

Spencer looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I fear for my safety. This is not the same guy that I was obsessed with. There is no sign of human emotion on his face, no sympathy or pity. Gripping his hand to try and pry it away from my throat, I feel the tears begin to prick in the corners of my eyes and upon seeing my reaction, he smiles. My pain is his pleasure. Despite my attempts at removing his hand, his grip only gets tighter and I’m pushed further against the wall.

“Let’s have some fun boys.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dull ache radiates through my body, pushing through the pain, I force myself to stand up. Staring at the room around me, I wonder if I was dreaming. However, with no sign of my books on the bench, I take that as confirmation that what I experienced did truly happen. Blood splatters the walls and floor but with no sign of injury on my body, I refuse to believe it’s mine. Sure, what happened was bad, but not that bad.

Not wanting to stay in this room any longer, I quickly make my way to the exit, pushing open the door with more force than necessary causing it to slam against the outside wall. Making the shy looking boy who happens to be standing outside jump. I smile apologetically, about to make my way past him when I notice what he’s wearing. Clad in double denim with round glasses, he looks straight out of Friends.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in because I thought you might feel kind of exposed but I wanted to introduce myself.” He says quietly, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Charlie.”

Shifting my gaze between his hand and his face, my mind can’t really comprehend what is happening. Why am I suddenly meeting someone new? By the old shower block of all places, especially after what has just happened to me. The confusion on my face must be obvious as he smiles before revoking his hand.

“You haven’t worked it out yet have you?” He asks, almost as though he doesn’t want to push me.

“You’re dead, cherry pop.”

Looking to my right, I spot a girl sat against the wall, blue lollipop between her lips that has stained them ever so slightly. Wearing a black turtleneck with a matching cap and pinstripe pants, she’s the kind of girl that would intimidate me had I seen her walking down the street. Who am I kidding? She still intimidates me.

“Rhonda, Mr Martin told us to be gentle with her!”

“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere to be but you two look great.” I tell them, beginning to walk away and head towards the main school building.

“Did you not hear me? You’re dead, you don’t have anywhere to be.” The girl, I’m assuming Rhonda, shouts after me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Look I don’t know what sort of joke this is, but it’s not funny. Seriously, go find some other kid to pick on.”

As I walk into the school building, I begin my mission of searching for Abby, hoping I can find her in the auditorium or even the costume department. My search doesn’t take too long, as my assumptions proved correct. She is sitting on the stage, the theater club’s newest script in one hand and her phone in the other. Our text thread open on her screen, as I sit myself beside her, she doesn’t even acknowledge me, eyes flicking between her phone and the script.

“Abby, I need to tell you something but you have to swear you will not tell anyone.”

She completely ignores me, flipping the page of her script. Its as if I’m invisible to her, a joke that isn’t funny. Waving my hand in front of her face in an attempt to get her attention also proves futile as she doesn’t even look up. Glancing at her phone I notice she’s messaged me multiple times asking me of my whereabouts, telling me she’s seen Spencer but she didn’t see me with him, asking me if I am his homecoming date.

“Abby, seriously? This is important, your show can wait.”

“She can’t hear you.” Charlie says, him and Rhonda standing in front of me, arms resting on the edge of the stage. “Or see you, we’re invisible to them. Nothing you do is going to change that.”

“I don’t get it, why isn’t she answering me?” I ask, panic starting to set it as I grow more and more confused at my situation.

“Oh my god, do I really have to tell you again? Are you that fucking stupid? You’re dead. D-E-A-D. Deceased. Not living.” Rhonda speaks slowly, using a voice you would use for a child.

“I can’t be dead. There’s no way, it’s just not possible.”

“Yeah it takes some getting used to, but we’re all friends and you’ll come to terms with it soon enough. Mr Martin’s support group helps too.” Charlie tells me, smiling encouragingly as I watch Abby walk away with some of the other theater kids.

“Support group?” I ask, hopping off the stage to stand with the only two people that can see me.

“Come on, we’ll take you.” Rhonda states, almost as if it's more of a chore and not like she offered to take me.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in a circle with the rest of the group, I can’t help my heart racing as I spot the football player sitting amongst everyone. He reminds me of Spencer and that’s what makes me nervous, or maybe it’s just the fact that he plays football. Either way I can’t help but feel on edge, hence why I placed myself in the furthest seat from him.

As I take in the rest of the room, I notice the basketball team playing further down the court. Not aware of the existence of the group of ghosts sat in a circle like they’re in an AA meeting. It feels so surreal, almost like an intricate nightmare that I will wake up from at any moment. Yet everything I’ve seen so far has been pretty real.

“We have a new student, would you like to introduce yourself?” The only teacher, who I am guessing is Mr Martin asks, as I feel all eyes divert their attention towards me.

The football player has a gentle aura around him, smiling at me as he waits for an answer to Mr Martin’s question. I look away quickly, unable to face the feelings of sickness in my stomach that I get when I look at him.

“I’m Y/N.”

The group mumbles a chorus of welcomes as I stare at the floor, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am actually dead.

“It’s hard at first, but I’m grateful that you decided to give the group a shot. It helps us all to move forward instead of focusing on our deaths and the past.” Mr Martin tells me, offering a look of sympathy. “Charlie, Rhonda, thank you for being Y/N’s guide, I’m sure it was very helpful.”

“So how did you die? In the old showers clearly, but that’s gotta be an interesting story right?” Rhonda asks, her eyes piercing into me as she places the lollipop back between her lips.

“Rhonda, you can’t just ask people that. Let her get used to us at least.”

His voice startles me, it’s as gentle as his aura. Soft and ever so charming. The protection in his tone is obvious as though he doesn’t wanna frighten me away and I glance at him for a moment. His football shirt sits perfectly against his toned chest and a gold chain hangs delicately from his neck. He’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.

“I’m Wally by the way, Wally Clark.” His voice is directed at me, staring at me intently.

At that moment, I can’t help but be transported back to before. Remembering my screams and pleads for them to stop. Praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. They never did. They never stopped.

Jumping up from my chair, I feel myself getting worked up as I sprint out of the room. Terrified of reliving the past. Finding myself in an abandoned hallway, I slide against the wall until I’m sitting on the cold linoleum floor. Staring at the lockers as I try to calm my breathing.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Charlie asks, crouching in front of me with a concerned expression on his face. “Wally’s shitting himself thinking he did something wrong. I told him to hang back while I spoke to you.”

I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at Charlie, feeling guilty that I’ve potentially upset an innocent boy because of my own trauma. I can’t go back to the group, I know I can’t. It would be in the best interests of every other ghost if I do my best to simply avoid Wally. That way nobody gets hurt.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I can’t do it, I can’t go back to the group. I can’t see him in that fucking uniform. I just can’t, I’m sorry.” My sobs are uncontrollable and I feel bad even just for putting Charlie through this when he’s known me for all of two hours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Is it the uniform, we can get him to change I’m sure, I know it’s not the best look but it is all he had since he died in his shoulder pads and all.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeves of my jumper. Charlie offers me his hand to help me stand up which I take graciously. He places a hand on my shoulder as a sign of encouragement, along with a gentle smile.

“I mean it Charlie. I can’t go back to the group. I don’t want to relive the memories.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She’s adamant she’s not coming back.” Charlie tells the group, all of them awaiting the answers he has for them as to why the new girl ran away. “I don’t think it’s anything personal Wally but she said she can’t see you in that uniform and I think she may have had something happen regarding the football players. I don't wanna speculate though.”

“So, what? Her footballer boyfriend cheated on her and now she can’t look at poor, innocent Wally because it reminds her of him?” Rhonda asks, unimpressed by the lack of answers Charlie has.

“No, I think it’s something more than that. Something deeper. I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready but for now, I would stop wearing the uniform Wally.”

The footballer didn’t need to be told twice, he instantly pulls the shirt over his head leaving him in only a tight, white tank top. Charlie smiles in appreciation, while Rhonda scoffs slightly upon seeing his muscular arms.

“Okay, so I’ve ditched the uniform, should I apologize or what?” Wally asks, looking at the group to gauge their reactions.

“Maybe now isn’t a good time Wally.” Mr Martin states, trying to think rationally. “I’d give it a day or so.”

“Or maybe just leave her alone for a while. Let her come out of her shell a bit first.” Charlie interjects.

“Yeah, let's not hurt cherry pop’s feelings.” Rhonda replies sarcastically, staring directly at Charlie.

As the rest of the group session continues, Wally stays silent, playing with the football uniform in his hands as he attempts to figure out different ways to apologize. To help her feel more at home in her new life, and potentially help her overcome the trauma of her death. Despite not managing to come up with a good idea, he does decide one thing. He will do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and become her friend.

#wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark fic #wally clark imagines #school spirits #school spirits fic #school spirits imagines #wally clark angst #wally clark fluff

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kimbap-r0ll · 16 days

Note

Can I request you the Dorm leaders with gender neutral S/O, Disney known for making musical, so I was thinking making S/O sing all the time, background music just come from nowhere and even others around then sing too

Hi, thank you for the ask! This is a really cute and funny idea ^^

Dorm leaders x gn!s/o who sings all the time and brings a musical ensemble with them

Riddle

While he would usually hate noises when he doesn't expect them (ie loud voices in the library caused by Ace and Deuce) he absolutely loves your singing

Will he tell you this to your face? No, probably not at first. He has made hints towards it in the past, saying things like "hey you sound really good!" but then there's the part where suddenly you get a whole background cast singing with you. NOW he's shooketh

I think he would've first thought it was a bit weird? Like is this your unique magic? But overall, I think he wouldn't mind as long as it doesn't cause any damage or breaks any of the Queen of Hearts' rules

Definitely try to get some of the animals that are around the dorm gardens to sing or at least dance with you like they do in Disney films lol. I think he would find it adorable

Leona

He found it annoying but then got used to it haha. Like he just thinks it's funny now when you suddenly burst into song and the whole classroom gets filled with passing students also singing about how Professor Crewel's class is too hard

You singing alone though, he loves. He's also too shy to tell you upfront but you have definitely caught him looking at you with a warm look in his eyes when you hum and accidentally get eye contact

Probably assumes this whole musical situation is your unique ability. If it's not, he's just confused even more. I think you should use it during a Spelldrive competition!

Have you tried waking him up using this? Definitely will make him throw a pillow at your face, but it might be worth a funny prank

Azul

While he says he loves the arts, he was not expecting musical theater as his forefront. Now he's here, with whom he sees as the love of his life, singing and dancing about how you are going to get "your head in the game" for Spelldrive with like 30 other students

He's not the greatest with crowds, but does find it somewhat amusing how you are able to conjure up so many people at once. Does this mean the Monstro Lounge gets hella packed from time to time on accident? Maybe!

I think he would love you singing by yourself and will constantly tell you this. Ursula much? He probably tried to steal your voice when you two first met haha. Either way, he wants to hear you a lot

Believes it's your unique magic whether or not you think so. I think he'll be stubborn about it for some reason. But! He does think it's really cool, perhaps you could teach him how you make it happen

Kalim

Absolutely loves it! He's also singing along if it happens to be a song he knows. For example, everyone suddenly bursting into "Prince Ali" would be awesome!

Does Jamil appreciate this? From time to time like when Scarabia is throwing a party then it's sort of like a big moment and you're technically helping him with managing the whole event.

Kalim also isn't shy about telling you that your voice is amazing. He's probably said that first when you two met and you were mindlessly humming to yourself while doing homework with him.

If it happens to be your unique ability I think he would think it's the coolest one he's ever witnessed (even though he can basically conjure water). Definitely sing tunes he knows, since that will make students and him all join

Vil

Y'all were made for each other haha

While Vil is strict and loves quiet times, he's also a theater kid at heart. You two know basically every musical song out there so whenever you burst into song, not only will students (maybe animals?) join you but he might as well!

You guys need to do duets PLZ. It will be soooooooo cute. Sure, that doesn't mean 40 other students will suddenly start singing so it's not as big, but it's very heartfelt. I think he would love random singing

If it's your unique ability, he definitely thinks it's cool. Just keep in mind not to cause a musical to erupt when he's stressed out though, since that could result in him laughing or throwing magic in your direction

Idia

He hates crowds. The first time you caused "That's How You Know Her" to begin in the middle of you two hanging out at the courtyard he ran away because you made literally every student in the periphery start dancing and singing

He thinks you have a beautiful voice. He's shy about telling you this, but I think he would absolutely cherish every tune you hum or sing. If you happen to record them, he keeps it on a device so he can listen to you when he's sad

If this is your unique ability I think he would be amazed since this doesn't seem like weak magic at all. He does wonder if you enjoy crowds a lot since you cause people to join you for a little musical number, but overall he does think it's neat

I would say he appreciates you singing alone more than in a crowd. Ortho, on the other hand, might appreciate your big musical numbers more!

Malleus

Thinks it's really neat, he loves the energy you bring!

He wasn't expecting a big turnout for his birthday party at all when he invited you, but seeing so many fellow Diasomnia students very wholesome made him tear up a bit :')

Outside of your musical endeavors, I think he also appreciates your voice a lot. He can sing (literal evidence in the games) but he doesn't do it often. He likes to listen to you more than anyone else, but you two should totally do duets

If this happens to be your magic, then he's impressed! It's not every day that someone can make people appear out of nowhere or people nearby join you in a musical number. If Malleus is proud, then you should know you're literally one of the strongest magic users out there haha

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst x reader #ask box #twst headcanons #twst dorm leaders #twst riddle x reader #twst leona x reader #twst azul x reader #twst kalim x reader #twst vil x reader #twst idia x reader #twst malleus x reader

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supernovafics · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 6.3k words

summary: in which the summer of ‘84 was both the best and worst time of your life

warnings: explicit language, underaged drinking, angst, fluff, implied smut, cheating

author’s note: second part to cardigan (but could be read out of order). i fully did not expect this to end up this long but hope y’all enjoy<33 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“but i can see us lost in the memory. august slipped away into a moment in time.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 19, 1984

Ten.

That was how many days in a row you and Steve had seen each other.

From the first time you two talked to one another outside of Ralph’s Sandwich Shop, his first ever words to you being, “Potato chips on a sandwich? That’s kinda weird,” and the conversation that proceeded from that somehow led you to watching a movie in the theater room at his house that same night. To now this— him spending the majority of his afternoon with you at the library, where you had been working for the past year and a half.

You wondered how long the two of you would keep the streak alive.

If it was anyone else you probably would have gotten sick of seeing them that many days in a row, but with Steve you weren’t. In fact, you looked forward to whenever you got to see him again. And maybe that feeling, the anticipation toward seeing this guy who you probably shouldn’t even be seeing this often anyway, should’ve worried you.

Whenever you thought about how easily the two of you were able to go from absolutely nothing to this— an unlikely friendship that somehow felt like you’d known each other so much longer than barely two weeks— it startled you.

Before, you had simply known of him; of course, you had, he was practically royalty at your high school. “King Steve,” a charmer, a perpetual flirter, somehow dating straight-A student Nancy Wheeler. It was the combination of those things that told you during that first conversation you had with him that you should stay away from him, but for some reason, you still said yes.

Maybe it was because the home theater he had been bragging about sounded way too tempting not to take up the offer. Or maybe it was because you liked being an idiot sometimes.

If it was the latter that was true then you still were an idiot because there you were ten days later still hanging out with him and not regretting it one bit.

“I need to bring you better games here,” Steve said. He was standing across from you on the other side of the counter.

“What’s wrong with Uno? Is it because you keep losing?” You jokingly asked, a small smile on your face as you started shuffling the deck. “Also, I’m technically working right now, so I shouldn’t even be playing any games with you.”

“There’s no one here except you and me,” He said and then gestured to the quietness that surrounded you both. “Actually, I think the only other person that’s been in here all day was that old lady who just wanted directions to the park.”

You loved your job at the library and you really didn’t mind how it was rarely busy, especially during the summer, because it meant that you could spend most of your shifts reading instead of helping someone find what they needed or reshelving books. Now the majority of your non-busy moments during your shift were spent with Steve.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked as you began dealing the cards, because what else was there to do but play another round of Uno?

“My guess is hanging out with you,” You answered. “What’s happening?”

“Party,” He stated simply, and you realized that probably should’ve been your first guess. “Need us to be beer pong partners again.”

It had been last week, two days after you and Steve unspokenly decided that hanging out with one another would become a common occurrence, when he dragged you to a party; some too big thing at Matthew Lancaster’s lake house.

A beer pong table was set up, which was not all surprising for a high school party, and you suggested that you and Steve play and be on a team with one another. You were insanely good, practically making every shot, and Steve wasn’t too bad at playing either, which made your team pretty unstoppable. It was a random hidden talent of yours that you would only show off every once in a blue moon because you deliberately didn’t frequent parties.

“I’ve retired for the time being,” You told him. “I can’t show off my beer pong skills too often or it won’t be a cool talent anymore.”

He laughed a bit at that but still nodded. “Okay, what do you wanna do tonight instead?”

“Don’t let me stop you from going to the party.”

Steve shrugged and shook his head. “Probably wouldn’t be fun without you, anyway.”

His words confused you as much as they made you feel so happy. And you quickly pushed that “happy” feeling away because you knew just how fast it could lead to feeling other things; things that would make you look like the worst person in the world.

Once again, you wondered why you were doing this. Why were you allowing yourself to get close to him when you’d probably just look like an idiot in the end? And why had he wanted to talk to you in the first place? Those fleeting questions would hit you a lot over the past few days, but you’d quickly push them away because you didn’t want to think too hard about everything. However, this time you couldn’t force them away.

“Why?” You asked, breaking eye contact with him for the first time probably that entire afternoon. “Why… are we friends right now?”

If he was surprised or confused by the randomness of your question, he didn’t show it.

“I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you that day, so I did it,” He made the answer sound so simple. “I didn’t really expect it to turn into this friendship, but it’s nice finally having something that actually feels so easy.”

What about you and Nancy wasn’t easy?

You wanted to ask that but refrained from doing so. He probably didn’t mean her when he said that. You knew that the only reason why he was with you instead of her, and had been for the past ten days, was because she was out of town for the summer. That thought hurt a bit, knowing that you were essentially some sort of “consolation prize,” but it kept you from looking too much into things. You took everything Steve said that could be read as flirtatious with a grain of salt and forced yourself to see it as solely platonic.

And you’d rather it all be completely platonic anyway because you really liked the friendship you’d developed with him.

“You’re right. This does feel easy,” You ultimately responded, smiling at him because now that the unspoken lines were finally verbally drawn— the two of you were friends; nothing more, nothing less— you felt the tiniest bit better about it all. “But, I’m glad it does. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Steve smiled back at you. “Me too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“you back beneath the sun. wishin’ i could write my name on it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 28, 1984

The only reason why you allowed Steve to bring you to this party was because you were a sucker for a bonfire.

And the only reason why you were currently drunk off your ass was because you couldn’t say no to a game of hide and seek, especially a drinking version of the childish game, which Steve had suggested and you quickly agreed to.

There was something about this game that made you realize that maybe your entire friendship was a game; a game of who would break first. But, that was something to think about at a different time. Or actually not at all, because thinking further about that would probably only complicate things.

It was easy to pretend that there was nothing more to you and him when you both were sober. It was also so much easier to lie to yourself that you didn’t feel anything romantic toward him and that you didn’t see that maybe he actually felt the same way too.

There was a constant back and forth happening in your mind, with you continuously telling yourself that being friends with Steve wasn’t a bad idea, even though maybe it was because it was slowly making you want something more. Sometimes it felt as if it made sense to like him; it felt obvious. The way you could talk to each other about anything and everything mixed with how constantly you two wanted to spend time together made you fall in so deep so fast.

But, you couldn’t accept or think about any of that, and the reasons why were painfully obvious.

However, with the alcohol currently clouding your brain, that felt like a slightly different story.

“Sitting behind a tree? Not your best hiding spot.”

Hearing Steve’s voice right then should’ve made you feel at least the tiniest bit upset because it meant that you lost that round of hide and seek, but you drunkenly smiled up at him.

“I wanted to be original and we’ve been playing for so long I feel like we’ve done everything else at this point. But, that was at least two minutes, though, right?”

“It was actually barely thirty seconds.”

“Oh, wow,” You said with a laugh as you extended a hand up toward him so that he could help you up. You wobbled a bit before getting your balance and then you grabbed the red solo cup in Steve’s free hand to drink the rest of what was left in it as your punishment for losing; the exact contents of the drink were unknown, but it tasted fruity.

When you were done, you handed the cup back to him and then leaned back against the tree because it somehow felt nice and you weren’t bothered by the roughness of it touching the parts of your skin that the tank top you were wearing didn’t cover.

There were a ton of people at the infamous “Lover’s Lake” because of the party, but nobody had been paying attention to you and Steve running around like five-year-olds playing hide and seek and getting severely drunk in the process.

The lopsided grin taking over Steve’s features let you know that he was just as inebriated as you were, maybe even more so because he’d been drinking a bit before you two started the game.

“Maybe we should be done with hide and seek now.”

You gave him a nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Things became quiet for a few moments with the two of you solely staring at each other in the darkness and ignoring the loud rowdiness of everyone else who was only a few feet away. Steve closed a bit of the distance between you both and leaned in close to you; his gaze flickered down to your lips for a hint of a second before going right back to your eyes.

If this was any other moment, your mind would be running a million miles a minute, screaming at you to not allow the inevitable to happen. But, somehow, you were actually calm.

“We can’t do that, friend,” You told him, making your voice sound as serious as possible, but you couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“I know,” He responded but still shut the final space of distance between you both, bypassing your lips and kissing your cheek instead. “That’s okay, though, right?”

The reasonable side of you was obviously telling you to say “no,” but it was hard to make yourself care enough to listen to it. “I’ll allow it.”

The three words came out so quietly, but Steve heard you. He kissed your other cheek and then your forehead and then your nose before pulling away and smiling at you.

Before he could say anything, you did the same to him; kissing both of his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose, and then pulling back to lean against the tree again. That time it was your eyes that glanced down at his lips before going back to his eyes.

You were so close to doing it, and he almost begged you to, but then you were pushing off of the tree and asking him to turn around.

“Piggyback ride to the car, please?”

“We can’t drive right now,” He said as he leaned down a bit so you could hop onto his back.

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “I know, but I will die if I don’t sit down.”

The walk to your car should’ve taken less than a minute, but instead, it nearly took five because, of course, the two of you got a little lost and it took way too long to realize that the first car you had walked past was yours.

“God, we’re acting like such idiots right now,” You said, laughing as Steve let you down so you could get into the car.

He laughed too as he got in on the passenger side. “Yeah, definitely not our finest moment.”

You sighed in contentment when you leaned back against the seat, immediately finding comfort in it, which definitely said a lot about how drunk and exhausted you were because you never usually found your car as super comfortable.

You turned on your side to face Steve, and as if feeling your gaze on him, he turned to look at you as well. You silently admired each other. Sometimes it felt as if a thousand things were being said in the silences you two shared with one another, things that would probably always be left unsaid.

“I really like you,” He whispered suddenly and you realized that maybe not everything silently said would be left unspoken.

You let out a small breath before closing your eyes because it felt too hard to look at him right then. “I really like you too.”

“Please let me kiss you.”

It was difficult to describe exactly what his words managed to do to you, and you tried your hardest to disregard those feelings.

“We can’t.” You shook your head, eyes still shut. “It’ll ruin everything.”

“What if that’s okay?” He said, voice still quiet.

It could’ve been easy.

To finally do what you both had desperately wanted to do for weeks at this point, but had refused to admit. And doing it at this moment instead of any other time because, with the drunken states you both were in, none of this would be remembered. Which would also mean that it didn’t really happen, right?

Your eyes finally opened and you looked at him. “Neither of us is gonna remember this conversation in the morning.”

“You’re probably right.”

“And if you did, you’d regret saying any of this,” You said, and your words were met with silence from him. You couldn’t tell if that meant that they were the truth, or instead, quite far from it.

Even in your inebriated state, you were too scared to push him further and get an answer because you were unsure which response would be worse; “Yes, I’d regret it,” or “No, I wouldn’t regret it at all.”

Before he could potentially say a version of either of those responses, you began speaking again. “I’m really tired.”

You then pulled your eyes away from him and looked straight ahead at the people that were still partying around the fire. A part of you wanted to join them, but the other part of you just wanted to fall asleep.

“Me too,” Steve said and with how long he had been quiet, you were actually surprised to hear his voice right then.

Both of you fell asleep just like that for the time being, putting an end to a conversation that would not be talked about in the morning because just as you’d both assumed, it seemed as if it had been long forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“salt air, and the rust on your door. i never needed anything more. whispers of ‘are you sure?’ ‘never have i ever before.’”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 31, 1984

The sun had long ago set behind the trees, but you and Steve still had no plans to leave his pool anytime soon.

You swam close to him, your hands finding his shoulders and then pushing down to dunk him under the water. A laugh fell from your lips as you immediately started swimming away, but Steve’s hand quickly found your waist and pulled you back toward him.

“What was that for?” He asked, one arm still wrapped around you, causing your back to be firmly pressed against his chest, while his other hand pushed back his wet hair.

“For pushing me in the pool earlier,” You answered, only trying for a moment to wriggle out of his grasp but failing miserably so you stopped.

“That was hours ago.”

“Revenge is best when you don’t see it coming,” You said, smiling widely.

He laughed against your ear. “You’re evil.”

You attempted to pull away again but he was still holding on to you, so instead you maneuvered so you were simply facing him instead.

You were smiling up at him, and you assumed he’d match it with a smile of his own, but he didn’t. Instead, there was a certain look on his face that you couldn’t necessarily decipher. You almost asked him what was wrong, but he started speaking before you got the chance to.

“I remember the conversation we had in your car at the bonfire.”

You could feel your heart start to race a bit, not expecting things to take that turn. “Oh… You do?”

He nodded his head. “Do you?”

“I remember the whole thing,” You told him, and that was entirely true. You’d spent the past few days constantly thinking about that moment and running through every single thing that was said. You had also tried your hardest to push the memory away because it seemed as if Steve didn’t remember it.

“I don’t regret anything I said,” He told you and then a hand came up to cup your cheek. “I still really wanna kiss you.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting Steve’s words settle over you, before responding to him in a small voice. “Are you sure?”

Instead of verbally responding, he gave you the smallest of nods and closed the tiny bit of space between you both, dipping his head down and slotting his lips against yours.

All you could think at that moment was finally.

Finally, you were this close to one another.

Finally, you were kissing.

Finally, you were doing what you had wanted to do for so long.

The thing that both of you told each other and even convinced yourselves wasn’t going to happen, finally happened. And in a way, it sucked because neither of you felt bad about it, at least not bad enough to stop.

Your legs wrapped around his waist beneath the water and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, one hand finding its way into the hair at the nape of his neck.

You weren’t in the deepest part of the pool anymore so Steve was able to stand, but both of you were still almost completely submerged in the water. He walked you both over to one of the sides of the pool, pressing you back against it and deepening the kiss.

Nothing was said, and nothing needed to be said. In fact, you thought that if either of you said something, it would ruin the perfection that was that moment and harshly shove you both back to reality. A reality that told you that this was the farthest thing that should have been happening.

For the time being, with Steve against you and his lips finding that particularly sensitive part of your neck, you were happy living in this fantasy world. It was a dream that you didn’t want to wake up from, and you convinced yourself that it wouldn’t hurt too bad when you did finally have to wake up from it.

“We should…” You took a breath, biting back the moan that threatened to spill from your lips as Steve continued the assault on your neck. Your next word should’ve been “stop,” but stopping this was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. “We should go to your room.”

He finally, and sadly, pulled away from your neck and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “That sounds like a great idea.”

You detached yourselves from one another just enough to step out of the pool and into his house, wet bodies leaving drops of water across the floor that weren’t the slightest bit cared about.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

After getting as close as you just had been, it was hard to go back to how it used to be; the friendliness and innocence that had surrounded the brief touches you two would usually share. Instead, your hand was intertwined with his as he led you up the stairs, and then his arms circled around you when you entered his room, cocooning you in the towel he’d grabbed from behind his door.

It was you that kissed him that second time.

You reached up to push his wet hair back and then leaned in, inwardly sighing in contentment. Both of his hands found your waist, causing the towel to fall and it was immediately long forgotten.

When you pulled away you took the smallest step back and simply looked at him, his pretty face and soft brown eyes that were full of nothing but adoration for you. You tried your hardest to find something within you that resembled regret or made you want to stop this, but you couldn’t. And you knew exactly what that said about you, but it was also difficult to force yourself to care about that either.

Steve eagerly brought you close to him again, which made you smile into the kiss he pulled you into. He slowly started leading you back toward his bed.

“Wait,” You said, detaching your lips from his and softly pushing him back a bit. “It would be really rude of me to lay on your bed with my bathing suit on.”

He slowly nodded and swallowed harshly as you removed your top first, letting that fall to the floor, and then going to your bottoms. “That’s very considerate of you.”

You only smiled at him and his sudden nervousness, which managed to wash away any and all of your own shyness at that moment.

His eyes met yours. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” You whispered, reaching out to grab his hands and pull him close to you again. You were about to kiss him again, but it was then that you noticed the time on the clock that was hanging on the wall behind him. “Shit, shit.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a look of concern crossed his face. “What’s wrong?”

“The time,” You answered and then sighed as you started grabbing your bathing suit. “It’s 12:40, and if I’m not home by one, my mom will kill me and then you.”

“Your mom loves me too much to kill me,” Steve responded, grabbing a t-shirt for you to slip on too.

“Yeah, kinda weird how after only one meeting where you two barely even talked, she somehow likes you more than me now,” You said as you put on his shirt which kind of swallowed you whole but you loved it and already knew that you would never be giving it back to him.

You looked up at him and your next words came out quietly. “I’m sorry I have to ruin this right now.”

Steve shook his head at you. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry.” Both of his hands found your hips again, squeezing softly. “We’ll pick up where we left off next time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Next time?”

“Mhm, next time,” He said, smiling back at you and nodding. “If you want there to be one?”

“I’d like that,” You responded and pressed a quick kiss against his lips.

Even as you headed back downstairs and Steve walked you to your car, kissing you for a few more minutes before you reluctantly drove away, your stomach had yet to fill with even a hint of regret or guilt.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“wanting was enough. for me, it was enough. to live for the hope of it all.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

August 12, 1984

The constant sound of something softly pinging against your window pulled your attention away from the book you were reading in your bed.

There was only one person that could've been throwing something at your window, but still, you were the tiniest bit surprised when you opened your curtains and saw Steve standing on your front lawn.

Even though seeing him was such a natural thing at this point, it made sense that you were at least a little surprised because no part of you felt secure with this “thing” you had going on with him, which was more than just a friendship but so much less than any type of actual relationship. You lived in the perpetual state that it would all abruptly end. And maybe that thought process came from you knowing that eventually, this would all have to come to an end; there weren’t that many days of summer left.

But then there was that tiny slither of hope that maybe it all wouldn’t have to end. You kept that thought buried deep down inside of you, though.

You lifted your window. “Throwing rocks at my window? That’s very rom-com of you.”

“Sometimes I like to be cheesy,” Steve said, smiling at you.

It was a sweet, adoring smile that you shouldn’t have been on the receiving end of; it was a smile that didn’t belong to you. It was so easy to see that, but it was nearly impossible to actually do something about it and let him go.

“Can I come up?” He asked. “I promise I’ll be quiet and your mom won’t hear me.”

“She’s gone for the weekend, actually,” You told him, smiling a bit. “I’ll be down in a second.”

When you opened the front door, he was quick to greet you with a kiss before pulling you in for a hug.

After that first kiss in his pool, there was an almost immediate shift that happened. An easy shift where you’d gone from constantly telling yourselves that everything was solely platonic to finally allowing yourselves to do every little thing that deep down you both had always wanted to do. With him now always greeting you with soft kisses, and you secretly spending so many nights in his bed because his parents were never home and most of the time it was easy to make up some sort of excuse to your mom.

Something else shifted too, though. It was a shift that neither of you spoke about because you never really wanted to acknowledge what exactly your friendship had transformed into and what it really meant. Not talking about any of it was a decision that you were unsure if it was completely yours or his because it was all so unspoken.

When you thought about it hard enough though, you could see that the decision was mutual, because on both sides it was easier to pretend that none of the outside things existed. In that fairytale, he didn’t have a girlfriend, he didn’t belong to anyone else. You were his and he was solely yours.

“Tell me about this thing that your parents forced you to go to tonight,” You said as Steve kicked off his shoes by the front door and the two of you started heading up the stairs. One of his hands was intertwined with yours and there was barely an inch of space between you both. It had become really hard not to be close to one another.

“It was this big event for my dad’s job, and they always drag me to stuff like that as a way to prove to his coworkers that they’re ‘good parents.’ It was very boring,” Steve responded with a small sigh and then gave your hand a light squeeze. “It would’ve been much less painful if you came.”

He sat down on the foot of your bed when the two of you walked into your room, and the oversized t-shirt you had on as your pajamas rode up a lot as you settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and hands resting on his shoulders. It was an un-innocent position that, for the time being, felt quite the opposite.

“Going to something like that is something a girlfriend would do, not…” That was the first time you’d even minorly referred to Nancy, and it felt both weird and wrong. It woke you up for a second and made you falter a bit in your next words, breaking Steve’s gaze. “Not a… friend.”

One of his hands found the side of your thigh, rubbing the skin softly and trying to pull you back into this moment with him. You could feel him reading you so easily and knowing where your mind was going, and he didn’t want you to go there, and neither did you.

You didn’t want this– you and him, him and you– to break just yet.

“Um, anyway, you didn’t tell me that it would be so formal,” You said, gesturing with your head to the suit he was wearing.

Your eyes met his again and you could see the relief wash over his face because you didn’t bring up the unspoken topic. Things shifted right back to normal. Well, the normal that you two created for yourselves.

“I feel kinda ridiculous, and I hate this bow tie,” He responded, hand continuing to rub your thigh. “I should’ve probably changed before I came here but I just really wanted to see you.”

You let his words further push away any thoughts of Nancy that lingered in your mind, thoughts that finally told you that what you were doing with him was wrong.

“Stop. You look good,” You told him, your fingers playing with the bow tie for a brief moment. “Like, really good.”

“Okay, now I’m really glad that I didn’t change, then.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you.

You only deepened the kiss in response and focused on nothing but the feeling of his mouth on yours and his hands beginning to snake underneath your shirt.

He pulled back, maneuvering things so you were sitting at the foot of the bed and he was standing. The black suit jacket he had on was the first thing to fall on the floor. You slipped your t-shirt over your head and tossed it to the side before helping him unbutton the long sleeve white shirt he had on.

His hands found your bare waist and squeezed softly. “I’m so fucking happy I’m here right now.”

“Me too,” You responded and then sighed in contentment, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment, when you felt his thumb graze over your already hard nipple.

Sometimes, usually in moments like these, it felt as if it was your sole purpose to be with him; canceling your plans just in case he’d call or show up, and meeting solely at his place, or yours, or the library.

How deeply intertwined you felt with him let you know exactly how much it would hurt when this all came to its eventual end. But then you were hit with the thought that maybe you would deserve it because you put yourself in this situation.

Steve’s hand came up to gently stroke your cheek and pull you out of your thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

Your gaze met his as you shook your head. “Nothing important.”

But, maybe it was the most important thing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i remember thinkin' i had you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

August 23, 1984

You expected to see him that night.

So maybe him unexpectedly showing up to the library– which was now busy with a bunch of kids scrambling to do their summer reading assignments– was what should have told you that everything was about to go to shit.

“Hey,” You said to him and placed the book in your hand in its rightful place on the shelf and then did the same thing with the other one you were holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tonight.”

Steve was quiet for a few moments too long, which made you look at him, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when you saw the look on his face. It was hard to exactly decipher his expression because it looked as if he was experiencing a thousand different emotions at once.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice quiet.

“I got a call from Nancy,” He told you, and you nearly flinched at hearing him saying her name to you for the first time ever. “She said she’s coming back tonight.”

“Oh…” Was the first thing that fell from your lips. It was the word that perfectly encompassed your initial shock at that moment. “That’s, um– That’s really, uh…” You almost said “great,” because if the circumstances were different and if things were actually normal between you two, it probably would’ve been great that his girlfriend was coming back after being gone for almost two months. But, things were far from normal and the circumstances weren’t different at all, so you were at a loss for words.

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, but what was really probably only seconds, you said something. “I really don’t know what to say to that, honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” He said softly and pulled his eyes away from you. He looked down and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I guess we, uh, both know what that means.”

“Say it, Steve.” You muttered. You had to hear him say the words in order for it all to be real for you. You couldn’t take all of the unspoken, reading-between-the-lines bullshit.

He was quiet for an unbearable amount of time before he finally spoke. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

From the second he kissed you in his pool nearly a month ago, you knew that those words would ultimately come. Each happy day that passed with you tangled up in his bedsheets or cuddled up on his couch laughing about nothing was leading to this moment.

It had all been so inevitable, but it still hurt harder than you had expected it to. You quickly decided to pretend as if it didn’t, though.

You nodded at him. “Okay. Got it.”

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t– I didn’t–”

“Don’t,” You quickly shook your head, not at all wanting to hear whatever pitying thing he would say to you at that moment. “Please don’t.”

You were suddenly glad that you were at work right then because you could distract yourself from thoughts of him and everything that had just ended with the current busyness of the library. You looked away from Steve and noticed a little girl struggling to grab a book that was high on a shelf.

“It’s really chaotic here right now, and I have to actually do work for the first time probably all summer, so yeah…” You forced a small smile and then walked away from him, ignoring the words he said to you that you barely heard and couldn’t make out.

Over the next two final hours of your shift, you’d silently accepted that that brief conversation would be the last time you talked to Steve Harrington. Although there were a thousand more things that probably could’ve been said, it was okay. That ending was okay. Or at least in the long run, it would be.

So it slightly startled you when you saw him in the parking lot, leaning against the side of his car. When he noticed you, he waved.

“Have you been here this whole time?” You asked, walking toward him, but leaving a wide space of distance between you two.

“Maybe, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know…”

For the first time probably ever, he confused you.

“I just— I wish things could be different,” He ultimately said, and hearing those words simultaneously made you feel happy while also making you feel so fucking upset.

“Things can be different,” You told him as you stepped toward him, the tiniest glimmer of hope inadvertently beginning to swirl in your stomach. “We could be together.”

Your hands found his, slowly intertwining them. His gaze met yours and you let the silent conversation play out. Your eyes pleading with him to not let go of what you two had, and him looking at you so softly while also battling whatever else was going on in his mind. After a few moments, he gave your hands a quick squeeze before he let go of them.

“I love Nancy.”

Not you. Those were the words he didn’t say, but you could read between those lines a little too easily.

“I love you” was the one thing you hadn’t said to one another, but you thought that you could feel how much he loved you through each soft touch, every longing look, every plea for you to stay in his bed for just a minute longer; one minute that always turned into at least five.

Apparently, you were wrong, though.

And now you knew for certain that you were wrong about every single thing that happened that summer.

Because you knew that you felt that way toward him. You loved him.

But he didn’t love you. He didn’t want to be with you.

He loved her.

His girlfriend— the only girl he was supposed to love.

You let the feeling of regret and guilt toward everything that happened this summer crash over you like a tsunami.

“I should’ve never done this,” You said, whispering that more to yourself, than to him.

“What?” He asked, unsure of what you’d just said.

“You love her.” You said as you moved away from him. “Go be with her.”

“I’m really sorry,” You heard him say as you walked toward your car.

You didn’t say anything in response to that. Mainly because there was nothing to say, but also because you refused to talk to him any longer. And quite frankly, you never wanted to talk to him again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“so much for summer love and saying ‘us.’ ‘cause you weren't mine to lose.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(read “betty” here!)

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things series #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

➪the one where you’re the other ghostface and ethan accidentally hurts you. (requested)

Warnings: established relationship, death, mentions of death, blood, mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, near death experience, knives, guns, swearing, all that fun stuff

Word Count: 2.9k | Ethan Masterlist

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“It’s getting late and I have that test tomorrow morning, so I’m going to go get some sleep,” Ethan announced to Chad and Tara, his form rising from the couch and his eyes meeting yours. “Are you staying here tonight?” He asked you, the two of you sharing a knowing look before you nodded.

“As long as you don’t hog the sheets like you always do,” you tease, grabbing his hand as he holds it out to you.

“In my own bed?” He laughs, lacing your fingers together as he tugs you up from the couch as well. “I would never.”

Tara, who had been watching with a small smile, just shook her head. “Goodnight, guys,” she said as she nuzzled closer to Chad, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as they continued to watch the movie.

“Night,” you call back as Ethan pulls you over to his room. Once you were behind the closed door, he gave you a boyish grin as he tugged on your other hand and pulled you over to his bed. He falls back on top of the covers, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you on top of him. “I kinda feel bad. Tara and Chad have become so close, it’s sad to think about how things will end between them.”

Ethan shrugged, his fingers tracing various shapes on the skin of your hips. “Yeah, but think about how good it’ll feel when we can finally move on and start over once they’re gone,”

You give him a look, pressing your palms flat against his chest as you lean down just slightly. “You mean once we kill them,”

He smirks at your correction. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” his hands gently caress your sides as his brown eyes stare into yours. “Not that you aren’t allowed to, but I think we have a pretty good plan here. My family won’t be happy with us bailing.”

Your heart swelled at that; if you were to bail on the plan, he would as well. He didn’t have to, he could stay and finish what his brother started beside his family, but he made it known that if you were to back out, then he’d be backing out right with you.

Shaking your head, you move off of him and sit back on the end of the bed. “I’m not having second thoughts, don’t worry,” at the quiet tone you were using, Ethan sat up with his back against the headboard and gave you his full attention. “I’m just a bit worried about what might happen if things were to go wrong.”

He reached over and took your hand in his, his eyes never leaving yours. “We have a good plan, one that will work,” he assured you, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. “We’re going to lock them in the theater and take them out one by one. With Quinn still in hiding, there’s only going to be three of us, so we’ll have to take out the strongest first.”

“Chad,” you nod in understanding before adding, “Then Kirby. She’s got the skills and experience for this kind of thing, so she needs to be taken care of next.”

“Right,” he confirmed. “Once they’re out of the picture, only Tara and Sam will be left. This will work, we just have to look out for each other.”

You smile at him, leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before lacing your fingers together. “Everything will work out,”

Everything, in fact, did not work out.

Here you stood with Ethan, the two of you hiding out behind the curtain as his dad prepares for the big reveal. Quinn was already back at her apartment, most likely packing for when her family returned and they would have to flee the city once news got out of the killings.

She got her last stab in with Mindy on the subway and took the next one all the way back, knowing that the attention would be on her at the hospital and the events that will take place at the theater, so she’d be able to slip in and out of her former apartment with no one around to see her. Since she had ‘died’, it was too risky for her to take part in the final act.

It had been decided that as soon as the deed was done, the four of you would relocate and start over.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t beyond ready for this chapter of your life to be over with.

“Are you ready for this?” Ethan asks as he holds Mrs Loomis’ mask in his hand.

Gripping Stu’s mask, you nod up at him and try to ignore the unsettled nerves that lingered in your bones. “I’m ready for this to be over,” you answer and feel a bit better after he gives you a reassuring smile.

Ethan’s free hand reaches for yours and you wish you could feel his skin on yours rather than the fabric of the gloves you both were wearing. “This is it,” he says quietly. “After this, it’s you and me.”

You nod and give him a tight smile. “You and me,”

Stepping towards him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him against you. His arms wrap around your middle and his chin rests on the top of your head.

After a few seconds of embracing each other you step back and the two of you put your masks on. As soon as your face is covered you become nervous again and feel a heavy weight sitting down on your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but fear that something was going to go wrong.

Ethan gives your hand a squeeze before creeping out from behind the curtain. You wait until he’s made his way behind the benches and cuts off the sister’s escape route before jumping down from the stage.

You successfully block the other exit and shake your knife in a mocking manner. Bailey shoots Kirby just as she was about to shoot you and that’s how you found yourself standing to his right while Ethan stood to his left.

The bad feeling from before came back full swing as you waited for the reveal. You weren’t exactly comfortable revealing yourself to the sisters, but in the end it wouldn’t matter. They would be dead within the hour and wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about your identity, anyway.

Still, your heart beat loudly in your ears as you couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that something wasn’t right.

After watching Ethan pull the mask off and berate Sam on her family, you knew that you were next.

Just as Tara questioned if you were Mindy, you pull the mask off and smile at the shocked look that the youngest sister wore. “Y/n?” She asked in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” you shrug and toss the mask somewhere beside you. “It turns out that you’d do a lot for the person you love. Even kill.”

Ethan looked over at you and proudly smirked at your words, his eyes full of love, lust and admiration. He held off on professing his love for you as it wasn’t the time nor place for it, but he sent you a cheeky look in response to your words.

“Are you serious?” Sam scoffed. “You became a killer for him?”

You narrow your eyes at her words, not liking what she was insinuating about your boyfriend. “What can I say? I’m in love,” you simply answer before adding, “You should know all about that, you dated his brother.”

Chaos broke out after that.

Tara began swinging bricks at you while Sam went for Ethan. You both dodged their attacks easily, but neither one of you saw Kirby stagger her way over to you. Ethan raised his hand to stab Sam when the agent threw herself at him. He stumbled forward and unknowingly gave the eldest Carpenter the chance to slip away.

At the same time, Tara pushed you towards him and you didn’t have enough time to react before the knife he was holding pierced through the skin of your abdomen. You let out a surprised cry of pain and tightly grip his forearm, your wide eyes meeting his panicked ones.

You stumble backwards and release your grip on him. As you fall to your knees, Ethan’s hands chase after you and he kneels down in front of you. “Fuck,” he cursed as he looked at the knife sticking out of your stomach. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry.”

Shaking your head, you press your hand to the area below the knife, feeling your glove dampen with blood. “Ethan, behind you,” Bailey called out just as Kirby stood back up. Running on pure adrenaline, Ethan pulled the knife from you and turned around, his heart breaking at the loud cry you let out. He buried it in the agent’s side and didn’t bother to watch her drop before he was looking back at you.

You share a look before he grabs your arm and wraps it around his shoulder as his other hand grips the back of your thigh. He picks you up bridal style and carries you behind the stage, deciding that his dad was more than capable of finishing the job that you and him had started.

Once you are out of immediate danger, Ethan gently sets you on the ground before sinking to his knees next to you. Now that the wound was open and no longer had the knife to stop the flow of blood, he quickly pressed his hand to your stomach, wincing at the sharp inhale from you. “Fuck, Ethan,”

“I know, I know,” he says as he tries not to panic at the feeling of your blood seeping into his glove. “I’m so sorry, I- fuck, I didn’t mean to. You know I didn’t mean to, right? I’d never hurt you, I- fuck.”

You don’t answer him as you grip his hand tightly, a searing jolt of pain ripping through your whole body when you shift slightly.

“Are you okay?” He asked desperately and you stopped moving to raise your brow at him.

“Am I okay? Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“That’s not what I meant, obviously you’re not okay, I just fucking stabbed you,” he says more to himself, but you heard him as clear as day.

“Yeah, I’m aware,” you say, sucking a breath in through your teeth.

“I mean, are you feeling dizzy or tired or anything that could lead to you passing out?” He asked as he used his free hand to pull your body onto his lap with no effort at all. His strength still surprised you sometimes. “Fuck, please don’t pass out on me.”

In all honesty, he’d be happy if you were to pass out, at least then you’d be out of pain for the time being. In reality, he didn’t want to think of you dying on him.

He realized just how real of a possibility that was when he looked back at your face, his expression dropping when he saw how pale you had gotten. “Hey,” he said sternly and pressed harder against your wound, feeling like his heart was about to beat right out of his chest at how loud it was in his ears. “Stay with me, okay? I need you to keep your eyes open and, fuck….just stay with me. We have plans, remember? We’re supposed to get out of this city and never look back. It’s supposed to be you and me.”

“You and me,” you mumbled in response, leaning your head against his chest as you grinned up at him. He was beyond horrified when he caught sight of the blood that stained your teeth. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah? Then I need you to keep your eyes open, okay?” He looked around for something to cover your wound but ultimately ended up ripping the fabric of your robe and using it as a makeshift cloth. He pressed it to your stomach before covering it with his hand again. “I need you to stick to your promise.”

Even though he didn’t stick to his - the one where he promised he would never hurt you.

“I’m trying,” you murmur. “I’m tired.”

Ethan felt his heart deflate at your words. “I know you are,” he said just as quietly, brushing your hair from your face so he could see you clearly. “I know you are, baby, but I need you to stay awake.”

You felt your eyes beginning to close and quickly shift again so you could jolt yourself back into consciousness. Pulling your gloves off, you toss them aside and reach up to caress the side of his face, needing to feel his skin on yours more than anything at the moment. “I love you,” you whisper, grimacing at the bloodied handprint you left on his face. “You know that?”

He caught your hand as it fell, his fingers quickly lacing with yours. “I know,” he nodded once, his grip on you tightening when he felt your body begin to relax against him. “I love you, too. More than anything else in the whole world. That’s why I need you to stay with me. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, angel. We’re going to live together one day, get married, and grow old together. We promised each other that.”

You smile weakly at him, the taste of metal taking over your taste buds. “Some promises aren’t made to be kept,” you mumble and press your cheek to his shoulder as you feel your body begin to betray itself. The corners of your eyes darken before fading to black completely, your tense muscles relaxing as your head tilted forward.

“Y/n,” he calls out quietly, his face heating up when you don’t answer him. “Y/n, please, talk to me. Keep talking to me, please. I-I can’t…I can’t do this without you.”

Your body went limp in his arms in response to his desperate pleads and heartbroken sobs that left his lips.

Six months.

That’s how long it’s been since every single news site in New York got word of the death of The Carpenter sisters as well as the remaining Woodsboro survivors, Mindy, Chad and Kirby.

The Bailey family stuck to their plan and fled shortly after the plan was executed and carried out, settling in a small town in San Diego and returning to their normal lives.

Wayne transferred to the local police station and became consumed by his job, desperately trying to fill in the hole in his heart that hadn’t been fully filled because of the death of his first born. Slaughtering his son’s killer only got him so far.

Quinn enrolled in a university across town and continued her ‘sex positive’ ways, still unable to commit herself to just one guy.

Ethan rented out the apartment above the restaurant he had gotten a part time job at. The manager was nice enough and gave him a discount on the rent, as well as free rein of whatever he wanted in the pantry.

That’s where he is now. He tossed the notepad onto the kitchen counter and made his way through the decent sized apartment, fully intent on staying in for the rest of the night.

He kicked his shoes off before falling onto the bed, not bothering to change into more comfortable clothes as he moved to lay on his back. The room was mostly silent, the only sound coming from the hum of the AC unit by the window.

Looking over at his nightstand, his eyes land on the framed picture of the two of you, the large grin on your face making one form on his as he observes the photo.

You are so beautiful.

That was his first thought when he met you, his first thought when he saw you all dressed up for your first date, and his first thought when he heard the bathroom door open and watched as you stepped through the doorway. “Hi,” you say softly as if to not disturb the peaceful quietness. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Ethan grins as you make your way over to him and climb onto the bed. “I thought you might be in bed,” he replied as you moved to straddle him, his hands instinctively moving to hold your waist. “You’re usually asleep by ten.”

You glance at the clock that hung on the wall, the time reading 10:45 PM. You shrug and place your hands on his chest. “You know I can’t fall asleep without you,” you murmur and lean down to brush your lips against his. “I need to feel your arms around me to be able to have sweet dreams.”

Ethan only shook his head in response, a lazy smile on his lips as he moved to place a proper kiss to your mouth. You kiss back before brushing your nose against his and moving to lay down next to him.

“How was your day?” You ask as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest.

“It was fine, another slow shift,” he answers and places a kiss to the top of your head. “How was yours?”

“Boring,” you say quietly. “I missed you.”

Ethan smiled to himself at your words, holding you a bit closer to him as he mumbled, “I missed you, too,”

heh, fakeout

#scream 6 ethan #scream 6 imagines #scream 6 x reader #ethan scream 6 #scream 6 #fluff #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry imagines #angst

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miraclewoozi · 3 months

Note

hi angel!! congrats on 500 followers 🫶 i'm so proud of you and i hope u know u deserve every single one of these milestones (and even more!)

i'd like to request hoshi + “you can hold my hand, if you want.” !!

looking forward to seeing you hit many many more milestones🩷 once again, congratulations!

JUST THE TWO OF US? - k.sy

500 follower party <3 ( accepting until 14th March ! )

pair : ksy x gn!reader. prompt : “ you can hold my hand if you want. ” wc : 1.1k and some change. notes : just fluff ! barely proofread. jeonghan is a shit. jihoon is also in on the games. i probably swore once or twice idk. literally warning free otherwise this is just a sweetie pie fluff for my sunshine bby.<3 ( i love u literally so much. thank u for sending this<333 i am kissing ur forehead holding ur hand rocking u to sleep and running through fields of daisies with u as we SPEAK. mwah. mwah mwah mwah mwah. i hope this u enjoy this.<3)

You’re never going to forgive Jeonghan for this.

It was supposed to be a group thing. When the plans were made a few days ago, there were six of you all in talks to go to the movies together, and as far as you were concerned, Jeonghan had booked the seats all at once so you would all be next to one another. He'd given you the time, told you where he’d wait for you inside the theater lobby, refused to accept reimbursement for the ticket (he quite often told you just to cover his snacks, instead), and you didn't think anything more of it. Even last night when you’d messaged Jihoon to ask if he needed a ride, he’d told you that he was going to hop in with Soonyoung so you didn't need to worry.

Which means that obviously, he's in on this too. He's on thin ice, as well.

Because when you walk through the doors at 7:15 on Friday night and turn to the left to meet your friends by the GODZILLA standee, there's only one person waiting for you. Leaning against the wall, eyes glued to his phone, shifting his weight impatiently from one side to the other. Soonyoung. He looks stressed, biting on his bottom lip, seemingly typing out quite an aggressive series of messages: if the increasingly creased space between his eyebrows is anything to go by, all of them are going unanswered.

He doesn't look up until you're standing right in front of him, wrestling your own phone free from the pocket of your jeans. When he does, and he realises that it's you, he lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Thank God you're here," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was starting to think this was some kind of a set-up."

You laugh quietly, tapping your screen and opening your text thread with Jeonghan, scrolling back to find the messages concerning tonight's plans.

"The others aren't here yet?" you ask distractedly.

Soonyoung shakes his head. "I thought maybe everyone was stuck in traffic, or something," he says. "Wait – are you on your own?"

It's your turn to frown, now.

"Yeah?" you say, glancing back down at your screen. You definitely have the right date and time. "Where's Jihoon?"

It falls silent for a moment as you stare each other down, matching confused looks plastered on both of your faces.

"I thought... he was coming with you?" you say in unison.

The ball drops for Soonyoung first. He slumps back against the wall as he connects the dots in his brain and he brings both his hands up to his face, rubbing the tips of his fingers into his eye sockets. You watch him, concerned: he looks genuinely distressed, and when he re-emerges from behind his palms, his cheeks are brightly flushed, face scrunched up in a way that you're not sure you've ever seen before.

"I'm so sorry," he says wearily, tipping his head back against the wall.

You don't get a chance to challenge him on the apology. At the same time as he says it, your phone pings with a notification; you bring it within range to find a new message from Jeonghan. A picture message. A screenshot, of a movie reservation, except there aren't six seat numbers listed. There are two. And it's not in his name, it's in yours. Underneath, another message pops up, just as wordless as the first. It contains one single wink emoji and a thumbs up.

You get there too eventually, and under your breath, you mutter, "that scheming little shit."

What's more annoying is that Jeonghan joked about doing exactly this a few months ago when you asked, in what you thought was a very nonchalant manner, whether Soonyoung was seeing anyone, what his 'situation' was. After some questioning, he excitedly offered to set the two of you up on a date, if you were interested. When you pleaded for him not to, he teased that he'd find a way, and that he'd catch you out when you least expected it: you never thought he'd follow through though, especially not after this long. You were sure he'd forgotten, just as you had..

You can't believe him. You really can't.

"I guess... it's just you and me," you swallow, acknowledging that this really isn't the fault of the man standing across from you and that it isn't fair to be grouchy with him when he hasn't done anything wrong. Besides, he looks mortified: hands balled up down by his thighs, cheeks still stained pink, a few beads of sweat starting to glisten at his hairline.

"I–... yeah," he grimaces.

"I'm really sorry," you sigh, tapping your pointer finger against the back of your phone. "I didn't– I really didn't have a clue he was doing all this. If I'd known..."

"Hey, no, don't be," Soonyoung insists, shaking off his discomfort and stepping away from the wall, taking a step closer to you. "Why would you-...?"

He trails off and in the seconds that follow, something... happens. Multiple expressions appear on- and vanish from- his face, replaced just as quickly as they come and immediately replaced by another that you don't have quite enough time to read. You're sure the same thing happens to you, too. There's a conversation shared that doesn't result in any words being said aloud, but even so, things are acknowledged. Things are understood. Soonyoung stands up straighter when the threads knit together in his brain and he slides his phone into the front of his hoodie, kicking at the ground with the rubber toe of his shoe as he pulls out his wallet instead.

He starts to take a few slow steps towards the concession stand, keeping his eyes on you to make sure you follow. Your tickets get printed, you head into the screen and settle into the seats Jeonghan booked for you, and while you wait for the movie to start, you make a little small talk. It's nothing groundbreaking. You catch up on the things you've missed in the few months since you last saw him, crack a few jokes, share a few shy smiles, grin as you sip at the drink he insisted on paying for. You bump hands as you simultaneously reach for the popcorn bucket. It takes him a whole ten seconds to get over it.

(He doesn't need to know that it takes you even longer.)

Soonyoung's fingers bounce idly on the arm of the chair the whole time, like he's twitching to do something with them, fighting against a strong, overwhelming impulse. And as the lights grow dimmer and the people around you start falling quiet, you lean over to him, close enough that you can whisper something straight into his ear.

"You can hold my hand, if you want."

So... he does.

He doesn't let go, either: not until the movie ends and you leave together and he walks you all the way back to your car. Not until he asks if you'd be interested in going out on another date: one that he gets to plan. And there are a million reasons you say yes to him, of course, but when he looks so pretty blushing under the lights of the parking lot... how on Earth could you ever say no?

(He squeezes your fingers and gently tugs you closer until you're falling into him: then, he catches you with an arm around your waist and his lips on yours. The salty aftertaste of the popcorn on his mouth lingers long after he says goodnight, and you consider, on the drive home, that maybe you can forgive Jeonghan this one time.)

(Just... not before you make him squirm a little bit, first.)

#💌 - mailbox.#sammy 🩷#mw500party!#hoshi fluff #soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #j writes.#*

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pix3lplays · 1 year

Note

I really like the blade and daughter fic. Can you do a fluff with them and the reader?

I can definitely do that! Thank you for the request!

You and your daughter are playing with dolls on the floor.

Blade is watching from a corner of the room, arms crossed. He’s quiet. He’s never been good at playing with his daughter, so he was content to just watch over the two of you.

But today neither you or your little girl were content with that.

After a few moments of playing quietly on the floor, you both turn your big, beautiful eyes towards him.

“What?” he asks, arms still crossed, eyes and ears alert to any danger.

“We need someone to play the dad…” you say, holding up a doll to him. “You’d be perfect for that role.”

“Yeah! Come play with us!” his little girl’s eyes light up at the thought of playing dolls with her dad.

“I’m…not so sure,” he says vaguely, almost…embarrassed that he wasn’t good at playing dolls. It was so intriguing to see THE Stellaron Hunter Blade looking nervous and hesitant about something.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” you insist, still holding out the doll towards him.

“We need a dad!” your daughter adds.

“I’m trying to keep watch.”

You roll your eyes.

“Blade, we’re safe here, you know that, nothing’s gonna attack us, I promise. Come play with us, for a few minutes at least?”

Your daughter presses her little hands together and gives him the biggest puppy dog eyes she can muster.

“Pleaseeee dad? I’ll never ask for anything ever again!”

“THAT I know is a lie,” he smirks a bit, but has a very hard time resisting those sweet, big eyes. He sighs. “Alright, fine, a few minutes, then I go back to keeping watch, okay?”

“Okay!” you chirp.

“Yay! Dad’s gonna play with us!” your daughter cheers.

He sits down on the floor next to the two of you, crosses his legs, and hesitantly takes the doll from you.

“Do a dad voice, Dad!” your daughter orders him, and he looks at her, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Do a voice, Blade…” you were playing the role of the brother today, so you do an example of a voice.

Blade still looks confused. “And…why must I do that?”

Your daughter looks a little frustrated. “BECAUSE it’s part of the GAME, Dad.”

“I do not understand…” he sighs, looking at the doll in his hands, and then to his daughter. “But alright, I’ll try.”

He attempts to do a slightly deeper voice. It’s…not very good but at least he’s trying. “Hello, I suppose I am the father figure in this game,” is what he says, receiving another eye roll from you and your daughter. What kind of dad talks like that?

He’s genuinely doing his best, you suppose, as the game continues.

Next is your daughter’s turn. She was, fittingly, playing the role of the sister this time.

“Hi Dad!” she says, in an immaculate daughter voice.

The game lasts for about three minutes before Blade got frustrated and gave up. The goal was for the characters to go see a movie in the theater, and hey, at least they made it to the theater in one piece before he surrendered and admitted he had no idea how to play this game.

“You’re really done?” you ask when he gives the doll back to you.

“Yeah, my apologies, I just…can’t do this…”

“It’s okay, Dad…” your daughter says. “I can play the Dad too this time.”

“Good, I know you can do it,” he encourages her softly, getting up and returning to his spot by the wall.

He watches you quietly while you finish up the game, and that evening, after you put your daughter to bed, he asks to speak with you privately.

He just…hated how disappointed his daughter looked when he gave up.

“Could you…teach me to play dolls?” he asks, a slightly embarrassed look on his face, but even more so a determined look. “Next time I don’t wish to disappoint her.”

“Aww, Blade,” you sigh. “Of course…”

The two of you spend the evening practicing playing dolls together. He’s still not very good at it, but he’s not getting frustrated and giving up as easily, so that’s a good start.

Next time he’ll be ready.

Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading! If anyone has any name suggestions for the daughter I’m all ears, I couldn’t think of anything lol.

#Honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail blade #hsr blade #honkai star rail blade x reader #hsr blade x reader #Blade x reader #my writing

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jksprincess10 · 1 year

Text

The neighbor’s daughter 3.Hello again

A/N: I wanted to make this part more story-driven, but it’s still smutty. I want to make more chapters, but it’ll be a short series.

Summary: You bring your new lover to a party.

CW: talks of cheating, anxiety, bj, rough sex, unprotected sex, age gap, alcohol, weed consumption, fluff city.

I suggest to read the other parts before:

Part 1

Part 2

In some ways, everything was easier now that your dad knew about your casual relationship with Joel. What made it harder was… you didn’t have “the talk” with your lover. You didn’t want to put a label on your relationship, knowing that you would leave for New York at the end of the summer. You didn’t want to break Joel’s heart. And you didn’t want Sarah to get attached to you, that’s why you were planning on never telling her. But Sarah was a smart girl, she knew something was going on.

You were both getting attached. It was dangerous.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Sam, pulling you away from your thoughts.

Party on sat at my place. U down?

Like old times? Sure.

U can bring your sweet neighbor 😉

You didn’t know if that type of crowd was Joel’s thing. He was… older and more responsible after all. He was more of the quiet type, spending a night sipping on beers with your dad rather than partying with young adults.

Still, you asked.

Party at Sam’s on Saturday. You’re invited as my +1. Do you want to come?

Do you want me to come, hun?

Yes. But only if you want.

I’m in. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together.

Joel hadn’t been to a party in what… 10 years? He was nervous, even though you spent hours reassuring him. He wanted to make you happy, and your happiness was more important than his nervousness.

He left Sarah at her uncle’s house before he parked his truck in front of your house. When you got out after hugging your dad, you were wearing a cropped blouse and a matching mini skirt, that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Joel looked at you, mouth wide open. He calmed down to wave at your dad, who was looking at you through the window.

“Knowing this was a fashion parade, I should’ve dressed better.” He said as you took place in the passenger seat, after letting out a whistle.

You rolled your eyes at him with a smile.

“You’re perfect.”

Joel, on the other hand, was wearing a simple olive-green V-neck shirt, a leather coat over it and tight dark jeans. His curls were slicked back, giving his hair a more put-together look. You were so used to seeing him in his work clothes, covered in wood dust, that even this was the biggest change for you.

While he was driving, he put his hand on your thigh. You could feel his fingers tapping your skin nervously. You put your hand on his to stop him from fidgeting.

“Joel, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just nervous as fuck.”

“Why? You’ve met Sam, kind of.”

“Yeah, it’s just not my kind of crowd, you know? What if they find it weird that you’re bringing an ol’ dad with you?” He asked as he parked in Sam’s street. He stopped the car and turned to look at you.

“First of all, you look 30 tops, tonight. Second of all, I don’t care what they think.”

Three words were burning your tongue, but instead, you added:

“I really like you, Joel. Don’t worry.”

He nodded with a smile, before leaning in to press a kiss on your lips.

“I really like you too.”

When you both got in Sam’s backyard, the party was already well started. Popular music was blasting on the stereo, drunken young adults were dancing. You saw a lot of familiar faces from high school, people you did theater with before going to New York.

Sam waved at you, and you two went towards him. You gave him a big hug.

“So happy to see you.” He acknowledged Joel’s presence with a nod. “There’s only… one problem.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Chad is here.”

“What the fuck? He ain’t even friends with you.”

Joel placed his hand on the small of your back.

“Turns out Darcy, who did theater with us, is his new girlfriend. They worked together on some project in New York and he’s visiting.”

Was it the girl he cheated on you with? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

“It’ll be fine. There’re enough people here, I might not even see them.” You tried to reassure yourself.

Sam disappeared after, getting dragged away by the guy he was seeing.

“So, Chad? Your asshole ex?” Joel asked, concerned.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to leave, hun?”

“No. I just want a drink, frankly.”

“I got’chu.” He laughed and dragged you to the nearest icebox.

You took a Smirnoff, and he took a generic beer, when you heard a song from Metric that you liked.

Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again

You dragged Joel with you as he protested, but you gave him no choice but to dance with you. He managed to keep his nervousness away as you were dancing ridiculously with him.

I'll send you my love on a wire

Lift you up, every time, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh

From you

You looked so pretty like this, hair moving with your head bangs, arms in the air, and screaming the lyrics. From the corner of your eye, you saw Chad, but you ignored him, your eyes coming back to Joel’s face, to stay grounded.

The song changed for a Doja Cat one, that was Joel’s cue to stop. He had his hands on his knees, panting.

“Damn, we’ll have to dance more often. You’re out of shape.” You laughed.

“Shut up. I’ll go get us more drinks.”

You stole a kiss from him, before you watched him leave. Chad took this opportunity to approach you. You gave him a polite smile. He presented Darcy. She was objectively a pretty girl, long blonde hair, green eyes, and all in curves. Too pretty for a pathetic guy like Chad.

“Respectfully, I don’t really wanna talk to you two right now. Wasn’t expecting you to be here and it’s ruining my vibe.” You snapped.

“Damn. Still not over me?” He asked with a stupid smile.

“Oh I am, I just feel like I don’t have to keep any kind of friendship with you. So kindly, fuck off.” You retorted with a forced smile.

Joel came back and gave you another bottle. When he saw in what kind of situation you were in, he threw his arm around your waist and pulled you close in a protective way, staring at Chad like an angry guard dog.

“Didn’t know your dad liked parties.” He said as he looked at Joel from head to toe.

Darcy tried to pull Chad away, but he gave her a slight slap on the hand. Asshole. She grumbled something and left him there.

“Joel’s not my dad. Turns out older men are more serious and don’t have a tendency to cheat on you. Crazy, right?” You argued sarcastically.

“I think you should be takin’ care of your own girlfriend, bud.” Joel added in a firm tone.

Chad scoffed and left.

“I just need a minute…” You said to Joel, before you went inside Sam’s house, disappearing in the closest bathroom.

Chad’s encounter didn’t destabilize you as much as Joel almost calling you his girlfriend. Minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, before Joel came in. This bathroom was tiny, just enough for you two to fit in it.

“Are you okay, hun?” He asked, brows furrowed. “We can leave.”

“I’m okay.” You sat on the counter to give him more space, legs dangling in front of you. “Are you? You look pissed as fuck.”

“Being called your dad wasn’t in tonight’s plans.”

“He was exaggerating, Joel.”

You hooked your legs around his waist to pull him closer, looking up at his face. Your hand caressed his scratchy beard slowly as you tried to make him smile. Your soft touch took some of his tension away and he relaxed his tight jaw.

“Did you… insinuate I was your girlfriend?” You finally asked what was on your mind.

“I guess I did. What should I call you?”

“Yours.” You shrugged as you responded.

“Mine?”

“Yes.”

He leaned in, his lips inviting you to a soft kiss. You tangled your arms around his neck to bring him closer, deepening the exchange as your tongue found his. When he left your lips, his mouth latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck, where he sucked a faint red bruise. You moaned softly, before pushing him away.

“Later.”

He pouted, looking at you with puppy eyes.

“I promise.” You added.

“It’s just… you in that mini skirt is totally doing it for me.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“That’s the point.”

He left the bathroom after leaving a small kiss on your lips. You followed him back outside, where Sam checked in with you.

“You wanna smoke, babes?” Asked Sam as he gave you a tight hug.

You looked up at your lover, almost asking for permission. He shrugged.

“I’m the driver, so without me. Go ahead, hun.”

While you were sat in a circle smoking with a few friends, some drama unfolded. Darcy emptied her beer on Chad and they both left, yelling at each other.

“Good fucking riddance.” You laughed.

For the rest of the night, Joel stayed by your side, watching over you and making sure you drank plenty of water.

You were walking back to his truck, his arm locked tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t fall. He helped you climb to the passenger seat, where you pulled him in for a long kiss. You tasted like weed and cheap alcohol.

“You’re a mess, hun. Let’s get you home.” He pulled away and stroked your cheek affectionately.

You pouted.

“Want you.” You moaned. “You’re so hot.”

He laughed as he climbed in the driver seat, putting a protective hand on your thigh as he backed from the driveway.

Joel didn’t understand. You couldn’t wait. You undid your belt and he looked at you.

“Put your belt back on.”

You shook your head and creeped a hand to his side, feeling his bulge through his tight jeans. He breathed in heavily, looking annoyed.

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

With expert fingers, you undid his belt and freed his member from his pants, which was already hard from your past actions. You took the base in hand and took all of it in your mouth. Joel’s fingers were holding on the steering wheel for dear life, his knuckles turning white. He shot a few glances at you, but kept his eyes on the road. He grunted, between anger and arousal. You bobbed your head up and down in a fast pace, feeling the saltiness of his pre-cum on your tongue.

The ride to Joel’s house was a short one, but you did manage to tease him enough. When he was parked, he pulled you off him by your hair.

“Go inside.” He ordered.

You snorted, happy to see him so annoyed. He dressed himself and held you by the arm to pull you inside his house. Once the door was closed, Joel pushed you against it, attacking you with a hungry kiss. Then, he lifted you up and held you as he went up to his room.

“Pull up your skirt.”

You laid on the bed and you did, the fresh air of the room hitting on your wetness. He groaned as he saw that you weren’t wearing anything under the mini skirt. Two fingers crept up inside you without more prep. You were still clouded on weed; you could barely feel the pain.

While he kept fingering you, he pulled down his pants and his boxers, just enough to free his member. He was in a hurry, no time to take off all your clothes. He didn’t seem to care either about making you cum, he just wanted to release the tension. You couldn’t blame him and seeing him so desperate for you sufficed to arouse you.

When the last of his patience disappeared, he pulled your thighs, so you’d be on the edge of the bed as he was on his feet.

“M’gonna make you pay, hun. Want you to feel this tomorrow.”

He buried himself inside of you in one clean movement. You stretched beautifully around him, the rest of your body staying relaxed as you couldn’t even reach him. You were a mere spectator to his pleasure; he was using you.

His name left your lips weakly as he was thrusting deeply into you, keeping a rough space to speed his release. Like he finally remembered you were there, his fingers caressed your bundle of nerves to help you chase your high. When you did, you tightened around him, and he spilled his warm liquid inside of you.

Joel was half asleep, looking so peaceful like this, curled up against your back, but your anxiety wouldn’t leave you. The feeling had started when you had “the” talk in the bathroom, it had left for a bit, but it started to get heavy again.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He sleepily asked.

“You know… we don’t have to… I just don’t… I just don’t wanna break your heart.”

“What are you talking about?” He grumbled.

“Seriously. We don’t have to be a thing. You know I’m going back to New York at the start of the semester…”

“Oh, so that’s what’s going on.” He seemed more awake when you turned around to look at him, eyes glowing with tears. Joel wiped them away and kissed your forehead. “Let’s not make this complicated, hun. We’ll cross the bridge when we get there. You’ll always come back to me or I’ll get to you.”

“You have your own life here, with Sarah…”

“Then I’ll build you your own Broadway here if that makes it easier for us.”

You smiled through your tears and he hugged you tighter.

#Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #db ! joel miller #dbf ! joel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #joel miller x you

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mermaidgirl30 · 6 months

Text

✨Dancing With Fire Part 3: Eyes on me, Darlin’ ✨

A/N: I am soooo excited for you guys to read this one, it was a beast of a chapter to write. It’s got everything from angst to tension to feelings and lots of smut. Screaming at how protective he is 🥰 Happy reading!

- Summary: The time he takes you home

- Word Count: 17.1k

- Tags: No outbreak, protective Joel, angst, fingering, oral, cream pie, abusive dance partner, tension, longing, porn with plot, smut, dom! Joel (reader mid 20’s, Joel in his early 40’s) Joel x you, No use Y/N, Joel x reader, Joel x fem! reader

- Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The next few days were busy as opening night was creeping up. Only a couple weeks left to get ready for the biggest night of your life. Carlotta was hounding you like usual, but you were used to it. You still were having problems getting regular breaks, but at least Joel made sure your lunches didn’t get trashed.

Every time you were on stage you could feel Joel’s eyes on you. That simmering, smoldering stare that could make your skin burn with heat. And occasionally you’d find those dark brown eyes in the middle of a routine, making you nearly miss a beat or throw you off balance. His gaze was that intense. That strong. He might as well have lit a match and put the flame to the test because you would’ve burned alive in the first second.

Sometimes you didn’t even see him. Didn’t know where he was, but you could feel him in the theater. Watching, waiting till he could get a moment alone with you again. And you wanted that. Needed his lips on yours like the hungry desperate desire that was feeding on your insides. You wanted him. And you’d find a way to have him.

It was Thursday now. One more day till you could have a much needed two day rest break. Your feet felt like you were walking on knives with every move you made in your pointe shoes. Just another nuisance that came with the territory of being a professional dancer. Your body always hurt, no matter the day.

You were backstage fixing your laces on your pointe shoes before it was time to go back out on stage for your next routine. Pierre was slinking around the corner just staring at you. He had a smirk on his face like he was about to say something sarcastic to you. You internally groaned at the thought.

You looked up and glared at him, giving your best go to hell look you could manage. “What?” you barked at him.

“You and the maintenance man, huh? Cute. What do you see in that old guy anyways?” he asked as a casual laugh left his mouth.

“Easy. He’s not you,” you scowled.

“What would Carlotta think if she knew one of her best dancers is screwing the help? Bet she’d kick you out of the show.” He raised a blonde eyebrow and smirked down at you, taunting you to react.

You stood up so fast that your head spun. You balled your fists and walked right up to him, narrowing your eyes into tiny slits as you tried to control the anger that was coursing through you. “You wouldn’t dare. And he’s not the help, you prick!” you said with a raised voice.

He only laughed at your reaction. “Oh, I would though, little swan. I would. Unless you do something for me in return,” he said with a sly smile.

“Are you trying to black mail me?” Your voice was so quiet that you could barely hear it in the small vicinity you were standing in.

“Kinda seems like it doesn’t it? Little swan.” He reached out to graze your cheek and you stepped back out of his grasp, sickened by the action.

“And don’t you dare go running to him about this. I’ll get him fired before the day’s even over.” He gave you another evil smirk and grazed your hand before you pushed him away.

“Fired for what? He didn’t do anything!”

“For putting his hands on me,” he said with bared teeth.

“That’s because you hit me! So if you even try anything I will come forward and tell Carlotta exactly what happened. And it’ll be you that’ll be fired from the show!” You were furious, anger slipping off you like hot lava, wanting to push him over a cliff and watch him fall to his death.

“Better be careful how you talk to me, little swan. Watch your back,” he warned.

“No, you watch your back!” you screamed, trying to keep your voice quiet.

He smirked before turning on his heel, leaving you standing in a pool of panic and anger. Black mail? Was he a fucking psycho? There was no way you were going to put up with his shit anymore. That’s it, you were going to Carlotta.

You stormed out and descended the wooden steps to get to the audience, right where Carlotta was. There she was in her bright red dress suit with her red lipstick on and her hair in a tight bun, looking at her calendar on her phone.

“Carlotta, we need to talk about Pierre,” you stated adamantly.

She turned to you with a tight smile. “What about him, dear?” she said in a sing-song voice.

“He’s not nice. He pushed me down and slapped me in the face the other night while we were practicing,” you said frantically.

“Oh, dear. I’m sure it was an accident. Pierre wouldn’t…”

You stopped her in a flash. “But he would, he did!” you yelled with wild eyes ablaze.

“That’s enough now. Darling, just relax. I know Pierre. He’s a sweet boy. He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” she said nonchalantly.

“But he…”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear anymore. Just get ready for Act Two. You’ve got 30 minutes before you’re up. Just go get some water and stop being so uptight.” She shooed you off and ignored every concern you had with Pierre.

Why the fuck did she never care when something was actually wrong with her dancers? Did she have no awareness for anyone but herself?! Tears pulled at the backs of your eyes and there was only one person you could go to who would believe you. Joel.

You ran as fast as your feet could carry you through the auditorium wood floors, making your way through the double doors as you barged through, hearing them shut behind you with a loud bang. Joel’s office was just a few doors down. You hoped he was in there because you needed him right now. More than you ever needed anyone in your life.

It was all too much. The weight of your role for this ballet, the way Carlotta never seemed to put your needs first or believe anything you said, and the way Pierre excessively hounded you day after day. He had calmed down after that intervention with Joel, but he slowly started getting under your skin again. Mocking and terrorizing you, trying to make you do things you didn’t want to do.

You just wanted to leave, to run away. You wanted out and now. But you know you couldn’t. You signed a contract that you couldn’t break. You were signed on for two months at the least. That meant no escaping till the run of the show was over. You were living in hell, and the devil had caught you himself.

You came upon Joel’s large office and knocked as your knuckles rapped against the heavy door. You could feel the panic flow through you, feel every nerve ending in your body start to burst. You were about to knock again, but before you could the door opened wide. And there stood Joel in his large, broad stature.

“Oh hey there, sunshine. Didn’t expect to see…”

He stopped mid sentence when he saw your face. Taking in your deep breaths and your watering eyes. You were trying your best to keep your composure, but the worried look that was showing on his face made it harder to hold in.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked with a serious gaze, his eyes turning that warm honey color when he was focusing on something intently. “Talk to me.”

You tried to speak but no words came out. Instead you broke down like the mess you were. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You let your tears fall like a flood down your face as you crashed into his body, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

He quickly wrapped you in his strong embrace and led you over to his office chair. He sat down and picked you up in his lap as he kept you enveloped in his arms where it was warm and safe. Where you felt most at home.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he cooed as he ran a hand up and down your back soothingly. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

You looked up into his warm face as another tear fell from your eyes. He quickly caught it with his thumb and wiped it away, making your heart melt at how gentle he was being with you. You swallowed anymore tears that were threatening to spill and choked on your own voice.

“P…Pierre tried to threaten me. S…saying he’d get you fired if I didn’t give him what he wanted. And…and I tried telling Carlotta that Pierre hit me the other day, and she didn’t believe me and basically told me I was exaggerating. And…and…” More tears spilled down your face as you became a blubbering mess again.

“He did WHAT?” he screamed as his deep, angry voice carried around the closed office, watching as his pupils expanded and his nostrils flared. “Did he hit you again? I swear to God if he hit you I’m gonna…”

“No, he didn’t hit me again,” you expressed hurriedly.

“Where is he? I’m gonna wring his neck, that fucker is dead,” he growled. He tried to get up, but you stopped him as you put a hand on his chest.

“No, don’t. That’ll only make things worse,” you said sadly.

Joel sighed and clenched his jaw. “If I see him again I’m gonna teach him how to fucking respect a woman. How dare he try to threaten what’s not his to take,” he growled as he bared his teeth, sending chills down your body.

Not his to take? Was he insinuating that maybe you were his now? Joel’s? The thought made your heart skip a beat.

He was so protective, so fucking strong as his biceps flexed under his plaid shirt. Making you desperate for his touch as he placed a hand softly against your cheek, brushing away more tears that fell. All you could do was cling to his shirt as you held him tight, making sure he didn’t slip through your grasp.

“You wanna get out of here? I can take you home. Can take you away from this fucked up place,” he said gently, moving his fingers slowly over your jaw, easing you from all your anxiety.

You shook your head sadly. “I can’t…I still have Act Two to go through today…”

“You know you don’t have to do this. You can leave. You can get out of here, go somewhere else. Anywhere else,” he said adamantly, staring at you with those dark eyes as they took over you completely, captivating all your senses.

“I signed a contract. I have to do it…” you said with a small voice as you lowered your eyes.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. And then you sat in silence for a minute, not able to use your words. He must’ve noticed the tension in your posture because he gently laid a hand across the small of your back.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he lifted your chin to meet his coffee colored eyes. He looked so worried, so somber as he spoke to you. “You say the word and I’ll fucking destroy Pierre. If Carlotta doesn’t listen to you then I’ll go talk to her myself. And I won’t be so nice about it. I’ll go to a higher up if I have to. I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect you.”

Oh.

He really cared what happened to you. And your heart was bursting at the seams because of it. Your protector. Your savior. Your knight in shining armor.

“I know you will,” you said as you smiled at him and put a hand on his cheek, feeling that roughness from his salt and pepper beard. You could’ve stayed there all day in his embrace, running your fingers through his scruff, feeling his warmness that overwhelmed your senses.

“I have to go back. They’ll be looking for me,” you sighed as you painfully pulled out of his embrace and stood up on shaky legs. He put a hand around your waist to steady you as he stood up and kept you in place for a few seconds longer.

“You be careful, sweetheart. Don’t let ‘em force you to do anything you don’t want to. And don’t you dare let that fucker talk you into doing anything with him. I wasn’t kidding. I’ll break his fucking jaw with no hesitation if he tries anything else,” he said with flared nostrils.

“I’ll be careful. Promise. I just don’t want you getting in trouble for any of this if Pierre tried something again” you whispered.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

You gave him a small nod and a tight smile. Before you turned to walk out of his office, he caught your wrist as it stopped any movement from you. You slowly turned to look back into those burning eyes.

“I’ll be out there in the auditorium watching. For the rest of the day. I’m gonna make sure you’re alright. I’ll be right there if you need me, darlin’. Nothing is gonna happen to you while I’m around, I can promise you that.”

You held back a tear as you gave him a gentle smile. Trying your best not to run to him and sink into his arms again. Because if you did then nobody could pry you away from those impenetrable arms. They’d have to drag you out screaming.

He grazed your cheek once more before you bit your lip and walked out of his office with your head held high, with Joel right on your tail. Before you passed through the main auditorium doors, you looked back once more to glance at him. Your savior in disguise.

“Go show ‘em what you’re made of, sunshine,” he said with that low southern voice that made your insides shiver. You nodded in his direction and then pulled the doors open, stepping into that wide, uncomfortable room.

“Ahh there you are, come on! You’re up. Get in place,” she commanded as she pointed to your starting position.

You slowly made your way to the stage, taking your sweet time as you dragged your hand across the red velvet walls, grounding yourself back to the show, back to your prison cell as you climbed the steep steps and got into position.

As you waited for the music to play, you looked up and saw Joel in the shadows of an opera box. He was leaning against the wall and crossing his arms tightly as he stared down at the stage, at you. Something shifted inside you then when you saw that brooding face and clenched jaw look right through you.

You almost missed the start of your routine because you were so focused on the smouldering man that lit a fire inside you. You tried your best to keep him out of your mind when you went through the routine, but you couldn’t. He was stuck like glue. Something you couldn’t get rid of.

He stayed in the same spot for the rest of practice. Watching like a prowling tiger about to pounce on their prey if he saw anything go wrong. And when Pierre was on stage he glared so hard at him that you thought he might turn into the Hulk himself. He was livid, enraged at the fiend on the stage with you. And when he got his chance he’d tear him in half and rip him to shreds. And that made you feel things that scared you. Things you didn’t want to come to the surface. But it was too late. You had already fallen into the tiger’s trap. You were ready to be eaten alive by the man with dark eyes. Needing to be devoured completely.

Friday came in the blink of an eye. You thought it couldn’t get any worse than yesterday, but it could. And it did. Carlotta was like an uncontrolled, emaciated dog. Constantly barking orders at all the dancers, but more importantly she chewed you out the most. Her most prized possession, the star of the show. The swan.

She was running you through the show three times today. Saying how you needed to make up for having two days off on the weekend. She was fucking nuts. Three times in a row without many rest breaks and no long lunch break was insane. You tried to state your concern on the matter, but she’d hear none of it. And Pierre would be standing there giving you that stupid smirk that you wanted to slap off his face.

Trying to negotiate with Carlotta was useless. You felt hopeless. Felt like a prisoner inside these walls with your feet chained to the stage and your vocal cords cut tautly so no one could hear your pleading screams that were being silenced before you could even speak. You were in your own personal hell and you were begging for someone to come save you.

“Alright, take it from the top! Swan, come to the front of the stage and get in position. I want you to do the last dance of Act One again,” Carlotta commanded as she pointed her sharp red claws at the middle of the stage.

“Can we please take a ten minute rest break? I need some water and…”

She silenced you as she did a ziplock motion across her plump injected lips. “Zip. From the top. You’re fine,” she reassured.

You puffed out your bottom lip and held back tears as you fought teeth and nails to drag your feet to your starting position. Pierre watched closely from the side as a big smile encased his face, his beady eyes tearing into your skin like he was stripping you of your soul.

You quickly pulled your eyes away from him and focused on your breathing as you tried to slow down your racing heart. You did what you usually did before you started a routine. Your eyes gazed up as you scanned the opera boxes, going over each one carefully, looking for a certain brooding, protective man. But you didn’t see him anywhere.

Shit.

Where was he? You needed him more than ever in this moment. If he was in here he’d probably tear Carlotta to shreds and threaten to report her for abuse of her dancers. Not that it would do any good, but you knew he’d try. And for that you couldn’t ask anything else.

You sighed disappointingly and focused back on your starting position, getting into second position gradually. The graceful music started up and so did your body. You focused on making your legs long and your arms sharp, forcing a fake smile to appear on your face. You felt no joy in your dancing today, so it just felt like monotonous clockwork. Strangled and repeated in the worst possible way.

“Bigger smile, chin up! Tighter spins. Come on, swan, show us passion!” Carlotta screamed from the audience.

You were gritting your teeth with every turn you took, your feet feeling like you were walking on sharp glass. Every extension of your arms felt like a heavy weight that was dragging you down to the floor. You were so tired, so famished after burning off all your calories from your scrambled egg breakfast. Nothing to satisfy your body’s aching need to just rest. It was too much, this was too much.

“More feeling, give me more delicate swan! Feel the desire of breaking free from your swan form!” Carlotta barked from the front of the room, making you want to absolutely lose it because you were giving everything you had to this blasted role. A role you were so excited to play until it was her that would be instructing the whole goddamn ballet.

As you spun across the stage you could feel your body start to rock off balance, feel the room start to spin as your head was caving in on itself. Black dots started to form in your vision, and you knew this feeling all too well. You were about to pass out, and there was no soft pillow to catch you if you hit the hardwood floor.

You finished the spin sequence and went into your next move, trying to shake the dizzy spell you were under. The music started to go in and out as your ears started to betray you. Your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t see where the end of the stage was anymore. You tried to choke out a plea from your lips, but no voice came from within.

The room was getting hot as a flash of warmth spread from your head, down your torso, past your thighs, and all the way to your toes. It was like you were hit with lightning as a wave of nausea took over your senses. You tried to lift your hands in front of your face to block out the blinding lights from above, but it was no use. You couldn’t see the shape of your hands any longer, couldn’t feel the tingling sensations in your fingertips anymore. And then your world went dark. You hit the floor so hard that it knocked the wind out of you as searing pain took over your head. And then you went cold, your world fading away as it all turned to black.

The last thing you remembered was a silent cry to the man with the dark eyes.

Joel. Save me…

A few minutes passed and you could hear the far off distant voices of arguing. Could feel the strong arms of someone holding your body in their arms. Could sense the desperate, needy attempt to see if you were okay. You still couldn’t open your eyes, but you knew it from the moment you felt his arms.

It was Joel. He was here. And now he was coming to your rescue, just like always.

You could hear the distinct shouts in the auditorium now. Could feel just how angry Joel was while Carlotta could care less.

“See, this is what happens when you push your dancers too far. This is what happens when they’re not getting the proper care!” Joel shouted with gritted teeth, his voice like a grizzly bear about to take out a victim in its vicinity.

“She’ll be fine. My dancers are tough. They can take it,” she said with a careless, nonchalant voice.

You could feel just how livid Joel was. Could feel the heat coming off his body, could picture how he looked right at this moment. You were so close to coming up to the surface, but you were still lost to the darkness. Only able to hear the voices swirling around you.

“You’re going to put her in the goddamn hospital if you keep pushing her!” Joel growled angrily. You’d never heard him this mad before. It was almost paralyzing how powerful the man really was.

“She’ll be fine. Just give her a few minutes to rest and she can finish her routine. I have faith,” she said proudly.

“She won’t be dancing anymore today, period! She could have a concussion for Christ’s sake! Did you not hear how hard she hit the floor? I heard it clear out in the lobby. Where’s the nurse at? I know you have one on staff,” he roared, sending a clear echo through the vacant auditorium.

“The nurse is off today,” she said dismissively.

“That’s jus’ great,” he spit out with a vexed tone. “Well, I’ll fucking make sure she’s okay then since no one else seems to care!” he growled.

You could hear Carlotta huff at his statement like she was being bothered by his and your presence. You might as well have been a walking ghost if you’d never met Joel. Hell, you might’ve already been dead. He’d saved you more ways than one. And for that you were eternally grateful.

You started to slowly wake up and come up out of the dark waves as you pulled yourself free from the petrifying, soundless darkness. You started to stir and move your legs just slightly, barely grazing your hand over Joel’s chest as you turned to the right where he was at.

You slowly opened your eyes and blinked at the blinding lights that were above you, until Joel moved to where his hands were on your shoulders and his face was looming over yours. Your focus was clear again as his worried features casted over you.

“Hey, sunshine. You’re awake,” he said quietly as he affectionately grazed his fingers across your cheek, soothing all your troubles with just his warm touch.

“You had quite a fall a few minutes ago. Scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know if you’d wake up again. Are you alright? Your head? Tell me what hurts, tell me how I can fix it,” he said adamantly, looking at you with those coffee colored brown eyes. The ones that you wanted to drink up and bask in.

You scrunched your face as you pointed to the back of your head. “My head. That’s where it hurts the most,” you said weakly.

He gently put a hand on the back of your head and rubbed light circles across your sore skull. You winced when he hit a particularly tender area. “Ouch,” you cried out quietly.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to make it hurt more. Gonna do a little test on ya. See if you have a concussion or not.” He slid one arm out and put a hand in front of your face. “How many fingers am I holdin’ up?”

You concentrated on his rough fingers as he held his hand in front of the bleeding light. You squinted and tried your best to make out the fingers. It was a little blurry at first, but your eyes settled in and cleared up after a moment.

“Four,” you answered unsure of yourself.

“That’s it. Let’s try a few more times now. Make sure you’re alright.” He held up different fingers three more times until you answered every one of them right. He was pleased and nodded his head.

“Think you’ll be okay, sunshine. Now, let’s get you up off this cold floor, and I’ll take ya home. No more dancing today,” he said as he carefully picked you up and cradled you in his strong arms.

“Just where do you think you’re taking her?” Carlotta asked as she stood up from her chair and came to the front of the stage with her hands on her narrow hips.

“She’s going home to rest,” Joel said sternly with bared teeth.

“She is needed on the dance floor.”

“She is needed to be tended to!” he growled out, his deep voice echoing around the now silent room.

Carlotta’s bright eyes went wide as her jaw dropped and then closed, not having anything else to say. She pursed her lips and turned off the stage, having no other fight in her words. Joel took that as a win and headed off the stage with you in his arms, tucked snuggly into his side. Where you wanted to stay for as long as possible.

“You have a bag here you need?” he asked as he walked behind the crimson curtain.

“A bag? For what?” you asked as your eyes looked up to meet his.

“I’m takin’ you back home with me.”

Oh.

“Nobody else seems the least bit concerned for your well being, so I’ll fucking make sure you’re taken care of tonight,” he said with a sharp scowl on his face as his jaw clenched into a tight fist.

Your jaw dropped at the sentiment. Joel was taking you back home? To his place? Holy…

You shook yourself from the trance-like state you were in and nodded. “Yeah, I have a bag in my dressing room I could take,” you said hurriedly.

“Need anything else back at your place?” he asked with a raised brow.

“No, I have everything I need in my bag,” you stated. He nodded and headed back to your dressing room to retrieve your bag. Thankfully you always kept a change of normal clothes and toiletry items in case something like this were to happen. You were grateful for it because you didn’t want to go back home. You just wanted to get to Joel’s. As fast as possible.

When you entered into the small, lavish dressing room you pointed out your pink gym bag, and he hoisted it over his shoulder, keeping you wrapped against his chest. Then he started walking out of the theater as you passed the staring, whispering crowd. You didn’t care. You’d let them whisper, say what they wanted. You didn’t give a fuck anymore. All you cared about was the man that held you tightly in his arms.

As soon as you stepped through the theater doors, the air was chilly as November hung in the air. The street was alight with evening traffic, and the trees were blowing in the howling wind. You could see a storm was on the horizon as the puffy grey clouds hung low in the air. And you could smell rain. You were in tune with stormy weather since you came from Florida. It was like a sixth sense, if that’s what you’d call it.

The frigid air was giving you goosebumps across your bare arms, and you started to shake from the coldness of the evening. Joel noticed immediately and shielded you as much as he could with his thick arms.

“My place is jus’ about a ten minute walk from here. You want my plaid shirt?” he asked as he kept briskly walking down the busy street, careful not to bump into anyone.

You thought about what it would be like to have his warm, green plaid shirt on. Imagined how it must smell just like him. With that faint scent of pine cones and mint and just a hint of mahogany. The perfect combination to make you get lost in a scent like that. Of him.

You shook your head, not wanting him to be left cold. “No, I think I’m warm enough. Just hold me a little tighter and I think I’ll be fine,” you said with a nervous smile.

He smiled gently down at you and laughed. “You got it, sunshine.” With that he pulled you as tight to him as you could get at the moment, and you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, smelling that intoxicating scent of his that made you dizzy.

“You know I can walk, right?” you said with a laugh as you watched people pass you by as you made your way further down the street, closer to his place.

“Does your head still hurt?” he asked as he gazed down at you, scanning your face.

“A little,” you said honestly, rubbing the back of your head, right where that sensitive spot was.

“Then I’m not putting you down till we get to the house. I’ll put you down when we get there. Where I can make sure you can walk without my assistance,” he said with finality.

“Fair enough,” you sighed.

A few minutes passed as you focused on the scenery around you. The busy stores were lit up with people frantically shopping, the crowded sidewalks where you frequently saw a dog dragging their human around the scent filled sidewalks were packed, the orange and yellow leaves constantly blew in the stormy air, and cars were jam packed back to back in the evening flow of traffic.

Joel turned a sharp corner and walked down a main road filled with grand townhouses. He walked up to a two story classic brick townhouse and took out a key, putting it in the lock and turning it as he pushed the door open and stepped in. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said with a fancy accent, making you laugh under your breath.

“Wow, look at this place,” you said in awe as you took in the fancy atmosphere of his place.

There was a lavish staircase to the right of the door that led to a single room upstairs. There was a small crystal chandelier covering the entryway and lighting up the way to the next room. As he led you into the living room, you saw pictures lining the walls of him and what you assumed to be his daughter Sarah.

There was a fireplace just waiting to be lit in the corner with a 70 inch flat screen above it. A large, comfy cream sectional sat in the middle of the room, and next to there was a big, open kitchen that had marble countertops and a large stove for cooking. The space was huge but also cozy at the same time. And it smelled like him. It was overwhelming, a smell you wanted to cling to yourself so you’d never forget what he smelled like. Spices, mint, mahogany. All your new favorite scents.

“Wow, this is all yours?” you asked in awe.

“All mine,” he laughed.

“And you live here alone?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

“Mostly. Sarah comes and stays some weekends or when she’s on break, but other than that it’s just me.”

“Do you ever get lonely?” you asked quietly.

Joel’s lip twitched as he looked down at you with warm caramel eyes. “Sometimes.”

He shook the question off and placed you down on the ground, getting your legs back underneath you as you let go of him. “Alright, you feel stable? You dizzy at all or anything?” he asked as he held his arms out, ready to catch you at any second.

You tested your legs out and took a couple steps. No dizziness, no wobbly legs, you were fine. “Think I’m okay,” you confirmed.

He gave you a once over to be sure, giving you an unsure look like you were just pretending to be okay.

“Joel, I’m fine. Promise,” you said with big eyes looking straight at him.

He hummed a response and nodded. “Go sit down on the couch, I’ll get you an ice pack.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the kitchen, turning on the overhead lights and digging in the freezer as you heard him shuffling things around frantically.

You made your way over to the couch and sat down, sinking into the velvety material that felt super soft on your skin. You looked around the rest of the room. There was a narrow hallway past the kitchen that looked to have a few other rooms there. Across from the couch and next to the fireplace sat a white oak door that you assumed to be a bedroom. Maybe Joel’s? There was a large coffee table next to the couch that was dark and looked vintage. A picturesque window sat on the opposite side of the couch, covered with light brown curtains that shaded the living room. A cashmere candle sat in the middle of the coffee table, and you wondered if maybe that was one of his favorite scents. Overall, the house was warm and comfortable. Much more homey than your vacant apartment across from the theater.

Joel came back over and sat on the couch with you, the ice pack secured in his hand. “How’s your head feeling? Any better?” he asked as he gently ran a hand across the back of your head, finding that one spot that was still sensitive. You winced at his touch and he apologized quickly.

“Here, put this on there for a few minutes. Should help ease the pain away.” He carefully set the ice pack against the back of your head as you sunk down and leaned back on the freezing block of ice.

“Give it 15 minutes to set in. Don’t wanna freeze you out,” he laughed lightly as he said it.

He was sitting so close to you, his outline creasing into the couch as his knee touched your thigh. His hand lightly grazed the side of your leg when he brought his hand down and you shuttered at how good his fingers felt. Even if they were just barely lingering on you. You gulped as you looked into his inviting chocolate eyes. Wanting to swim in those thick pools of warmth.

“I’m gonna make some dinner. What do you want?” His thick accent got caught on the last word, making you audibly gasp at the drawn out syllables.

“Anything,” you answered too fast.

“Hmm, anything?” he asked with a raised brow.

“I’m not picky. Pick your poison,” you stated simply.

He laughed at your response. “You like chicken, right? How about I make some chicken stir fry then? Would that be alright?”

“Sounds amazing,” you said excitedly.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll get started on dinner then,” he said with a small smile as he got off the couch, leaving his large imprint in the spot next to you.

Sweetheart. You loved when he called you that. It was…intimate. Maybe he didn’t mean it to be, but it was to you.

You watched him walk off to the kitchen casually, carefully getting out some pots and pans from the sanded cabinets and digging in the fridge, pulling out ingredients to make the dinner. You leaned back into the cold ice pack and closed your eyes for just a second. Taking in just where you were, trying to calm your nerves that you were in his house. Alone with him.

All of a sudden something jumped in your lap. You about lurched to a standing position until you saw what it was. A cat. Joel had a cat? He didn’t say anything about a cat. It was a long haired large cat that had the colors of a Maine Coon. A white cat with grey stripes that lined its entire body. Bright green eyes and pointy ears finished its majestic look. The cat purred at you and nuzzled your arm, wanting you to pet it.

“Oh, I forgot to mention I had a cat. That’s Tiger. He’s a rescue that showed up at my door when I moved in. Had him ever since. He’s been a pretty good cat,” he said as he rustled around the kitchen, starting the stove.

“Hi, Tiger,” you said affectionately as you stroked his back, watching him find a comfy spot on your lap as you continued stroking his soft fur.

“I think he likes you,” he said with a smile in his voice, watching the two of you closely.

“Didn’t know you were a cat person,” you said as you looked over at him with a stupid grin on your face.

“Didn’t think I was either until I took him in. Poor thing was freezing. I couldn’t just let him freeze to death, so I let him stay a couple days. Decided to keep him. Was a good choice on my part. Think it did me some good,” he said as he shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” you said mischievously to him.

“Guess so,” he said with a smirk on his face, making your insides queasy.

So he was caring and protective of animals too? He really was the perfect package.

You noticed you still had your pointe shoes on and your practice clothes. You were dying to get out of your tight, uncomfortable clothes. Almost suffocating you as you sat there on the couch. Joel must’ve noticed your discomfort because he said something about it.

“You alright?” he asked concerned as he made his way over to you.

“I’m fine. Just want to get out of these clothes,” you sighed.

“You want a shower? There’s a bathroom next to Sarah’s room. It’s fully stocked. You can use it if you want.”

“Umm yeah, if you don’t mind. That’d be nice,” you said as you felt sticky in your tights and too tight leotard. Your skirt barely grazing your thighs.

“I don’t mind at all. Well, c’mon. I’ll show you where it’s at,” he said as he took your ice pack and helped you up off the couch, dropping your hand all too fast as you didn’t want the contact to end. Tiger jumped out of your lap and followed you down the hall, staying close by your heels.

You followed Joel down the narrow carpeted hall, turning into a full bathroom that was decorated in lilac and pink curtains. Seashells lined the granite sink, giving it that beachy theme you loved. He set out a purple towel and washcloth for you on the sink.

“Sarah like the ocean?” you asked as your eyes scraped across the rest of the room, taking in the ocean wallpaper and the mermaid shower curtain.

“Oh yeah. Used to take her all the time when we lived in Texas. Could barely get that girl out of the water. Had to drag her out screaming.” His lips curled into a smile as a genuine laugh escaped his mouth. He looked so pretty when he smiled. Something that you wanted a picture of so you wouldn’t ever forget it. That handsome, gorgeous face.

“What about you? You like the ocean, Florida girl?” He gave you a flirtatious smirk and your cheeks burned crimson.

“Most definitely. One of my favorite places,” you said in a dream like voice, remembering long nights on the beach with friends when your hair would be filled with salt water and your swimsuit would be caked in sand.

“You miss it?” he asked quietly, searching your wondering eyes.

“The ocean? Yeah, I miss it.”

He hummed under his breath and kept his gaze on you. After a minute of quiet stares he pushed off the wall and headed for the door. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything, and I mean anything at all.”

He ran his eyes slowly over you, making you audibly gasp. The way he said anything made your mind wonder. Made you think of how it’d feel to be skin to skin with him in the shower, running his hands down your body, spreading your legs so he could snake his way inside and light you up until you couldn’t hold in the heat anymore.

“I’ll be in the kitchen. Holler if you need me.” And with that he closed the door and left you alone with your wondering thoughts and building heat between your legs.

You leaned against the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. Focus. Get your head out of the gutter and just get a shower.

You sat down on the edge of the bath and unlaced your pointe shoes, shoving them off your aching feet. You slowly flexed and extended your toes, holding in a sob as it felt so good to get them off your feet. A warm shower would do you some good.

You quickly stripped yourself of the tights and pulled down your practice leotard, throwing the skirt to the floor in a heap. Your whole body ached from head to toe, and you were dying to go get a massage. You needed one direly. You threw open the mermaid curtain and turned the faucet to hot, watching the water come pouring out of the shower head in a wave.

You dragged yourself over the edge and stood up, letting the hot water peel over your skin as you basked in the way it felt on your back. You groaned as it seemed to help your aching muscles and tight neck. You quickly lathered some vanilla soap on the washcloth and slowly dragged it along your neck and down your body, making its way down to your throbbing thighs. And then your mind went to dark places again. Wet, hot places.

You imagined the soft washcloth was Joel, running his hands through your silky hair, marking your neck with wet, caressing kisses, running his tongue down your body, lapping up the slick in between your legs, grabbing your thighs as his rough calloused hands lifted you up to wrap your legs around his back, sliding his fingers in between your slits, rubbing you till you couldn’t hold on anymore, pumping inside you until your body shook with pleasant desire, feeding every single need that your body craved.

You quickly moved your fingers away from inside your thighs, squeezing your legs together as you were already so close to releasing. Feeling that sick desire creep up your spine, almost to the edge of a climax.

What the fuck was wrong with you? You shouldn’t be doing this in his shower, in his house. But you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help the way you felt like exploding fireworks when you were around him.

And that face.

Those eyes. Those goddamn brown eyes. He made you sick. Sick with desire, with need.

You were already so close so you might as well finish the job so you wouldn’t be on edge during dinner. You pushed your fingers in between your thighs and found your throbbing clit, putting just enough pressure on it that it made you want to cry out as it felt sooo good.

You were pretending it was his hands, his rough fingers finishing you off.

There ya go, sunshine. Come for me. Be a good girl now, darlin’. Let me taste you.

And then you were coming, hard. You held in a moan as you covered your mouth and let the sensation pull over you, feeling that warmth coat your thighs as you fell back against the wall, trying to keep your legs from caving in.

You stood there for a few minutes just catching your breath, coming back down from your blissful high. God, you wanted him. No, needed him. You don’t know what the fuck was wrong with you or why he had that strong of a grasp on you, but he did. And now you’d be crushed if he didn’t want you back.

But it was obvious he liked you. Very obvious. The way he stared at you in the theater, the way he took in every inch of you with his eyes. The way he was overly protective of you, the way he cared about what happened to you, the way he wanted to take care of you. He did like you. You were just gaslighting yourself to think the opposite.

You finished up in the shower, cutting off the water as silence took over the bathroom. Only the drip of the faucet could be heard. You quickly dried off and rummaged through your bag. You didn’t have much of a selection. There was a pair of yoga pants and a pair of black soffe shorts. You picked the shorts over the pants.

You slid on your lacy pink underwear and pulled up the shorts next as they clung to your curves, showing off your toned thighs. Next you clasped your bra and pulled on an oversized Nirvana shirt, almost covering the length of your shorts. You pulled on some ankle length black socks and called it good. You weren’t like the typical ballerina stereotype. You liked Rock and Roll just as much as you liked classical ballet music. You stood out amongst the other dancers and you didn’t care one bit.

You pulled your tight bun out and tousled your hair around, leaving behind thick waves as they passed your shoulders. You threw on some shiny pink lip gloss and puckered your lips together, smoothing out the gloss evenly. If this didn’t get Joel’s attention then you didn’t know what would. You took one more look at yourself in the mirror and crossed your fingers. Hoping that tonight would go well because your nerves were starting to get the best of you.

When you turned the doorknob and shut the lights off, you stepped into the hall and slowly made your way towards the kitchen. When you stepped into the light, you could see Joel focused on mixing the bowl of broccoli and chicken, flavoring it with some kind of soy sauce. He had a hand towel over his left shoulder and he looked adorable the way he was carefully mixing ingredients together. Your handsome chef hard at work.

You were leaning on the wall, so far gone admiring him from a distance that you didn’t hear him clear his throat. You jumped up and moved closer to the kitchen island, trying not to turn a shade of red.

He watched you walk over, slowly scanning his eyes down your body, landing on your thighs and lingering his brown eyes just a little too long. You were right. The shorts did get his attention. When you pulled out a bar stool and sat down his eyes gazed up to your face, taking in your long waves of hair. And then there was that look. The same look he had given you when he took you to dinner and saw you with your hair down for the first time. He looked captivated, intrigued. And you swore you saw stars in his eyes.

Did you really affect him the way that he affected you? Maybe, just maybe…

He cleared his throat again and shook himself out of a daze. “Feel a little better?” he asked casually.

“Much,” you said with a smile his way.

“Good. Glad to hear it. Dinner’s about ready. Should be done in a couple minutes,” he said as he mixed the food with the stirring utensil.

You watched the way he cooked, watched how his bulging biceps clung to his rolled up plaid shirt, watched as he took special care in making sure every ingredient was just right. It’s like he was a natural. You could watch him stir a pot all day long, and you’d probably drool while you took in every second.

“You seem like a natural. Do you cook all the time?” you asked curiously as you put your elbow on the island and leaned on it, bracing your hand under your chin.

“I didn’t actually start cooking till I had Sarah. Figured I should learn ya know? Turns out I actually kinda enjoy it. With how much I build stuff, it’s kinda like doing that. But instead of doors or floors, it’s making something delicious in the kitchen. Something I can eat. I don’t know, I kinda find it relaxing believe it or not.” He smiled as he turned to you, finding that glimmer in his caramel eyes. He was beautiful. Even the way he talked about cooking was beautiful.

Okay, he was perfect. You had found absolutely nothing wrong with him. The only question was why the hell did he pick you? Out of everyone he could’ve had, he chose you. Well, at least you hoped he did. But you were sitting in his kitchen and he was making you dinner. So of course he picked you. You just still couldn’t believe you got this lucky.

“Do you like to cook?” he asked as he cocked an eyebrow up, bringing the pan over to the middle of the kitchen island as he poured some in two glass bowls, watching the heat rise from the freshly made chicken.

“If you mean bake then absolutely. My favorite thing to make is pies. And believe it or not, I make some of the best cherry pies,” you said proudly, sitting a little taller as you spoke.

“I’ll bet you do,” he smirked. “You’ll have to make me one one of these days. Need to taste it for myself and see if it’s as delicious as you say it is,” he said with smouldering eyes, his smirk still planted on the side of his mouth.

You gulped at the suggestion, gawking up at him with what he just said. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to flirt or if he was being serious. He said taste your cherry pie. Did he mean an actual pie or was he talking about what was in between your legs? You could feel the crimson heat on the side of your cheeks start to burn. You took a swig of water to cool yourself off.

“Oh, yeah. I could totally make you a pie,” you said nonchalantly, brushing it off like he didn’t just send a wave of slick down your underwear.

“Perfect,” he beamed. “Well, dinner’s done. Go ahead and try it. See if you like it. But be careful, it might be hot,” he warned as he handed you a bowl. It smelled absolutely delicious, and you already knew it’d be amazing.

You picked up a forkful and blew on it, slowly popping it in your mouth as you chewed and swallowed the rich, savoury food. Your eyes went wide as all your taste buds hit at once. It was amazing. “Holy shit, Joel. This is delicious!” you shouted, quickly realizing you needed to calm down as you sat back in your seat.

He laughed at your response. “Glad ya like it. There’s plenty more so help yourself.”

You smiled at him and nodded, putting your focus back into the bowl. You took a few more bites, nearly halfway done with your food already. You could feel his eyes on you. Watching you calmly, enjoying the sight of you devouring his food.

You looked back up at him and he was just watching you intently, arms leaning on the other side of the kitchen island. His brown eyes were calm, collected. And they looked like straight honey, making you want to drink them down.

“You gonna join me or?” you asked, your forks twirling around a lone noodle.

“Oh, yeah. Right,” he said hurriedly as he grabbed his own bowl and joined you in the seat next to you, his knee grazing against yours as he scooted in, sending a wave of electricity down your body.

“Thank you for dinner. You really are a great cook,” you said as you took another bite full of chicken and broccoli.

“Anytime,” he answered with a small smile.

You filled up your bowl again and inhaled it slowly, feeling the pit in your stomach become full and happy. Joel took your empty bowl from you when he was finished and put it in the sink, washing the dirty dishes and putting them away in the dishwasher.

You walked over to the wall by the oak door, stopping at a picture that had to be Sarah. You grazed your fingers over the black smooth edge of the frame and looked at the smiling faces of Joel and Sarah in the picture. She had on a blue graduation gown and held the cap high above her head. She had a big smile, one that could definitely light up a room. And she had long flowing hair. She had the same smile as Joel. And you couldn’t help but crinkle your eyes at the sight.

“Is this Sarah?” you asked loudly, so Joel could hear you from the other room. You heard him close the dishwasher and come up behind you, peeking around your shoulder.

“Yep. That’s my baby girl. Just graduated from high school in that picture. She sure was excited to go off to college,” he said with a huff, a little sadness in his eyes.

“She’s pretty,” you replied, smiling over your shoulder at him.

He grinned at that. “She sure is. Had to take out the bat a couple of times senior year when some boys broke her heart.”

A faint giggle left your mouth as you could picture it now. “Of course you did. Now I see why you’re so protective. You have a daughter, it’s your natural instinct.”

“I only protect what’s mine,” he reassured.

What was his? Oh. Was he inclining that you were his? Butterflies shot through your stomach at just the thought of it. His. You liked the sound of that.

“You like wine?” he asked curiously.

“Depends what kind. Why?”

“I have some red wine in the fridge if you’d like some.”

“Oh, ummm sure. I’d love some,” you answered excitedly.

“Great. Well, why don’t you go sit down? I’ll bring over a glass for you.”

“Alright.”

You made your way back to the velvety couch and sat down, curling your legs up underneath you. The fire was lit now. Joel turned it on when you were showering. You watched the orange flames dance above the logs, enjoying the warmth the fire was giving off.

You heard the cork screw loosen from the wine bottle as Joel popped off the top, listening to the sound of the liquid splash into the glass cups. It didn’t take long for Joel to hand you a glass and join you on the couch. He sat down close to you, so close that his knee grazed against yours, sending nerves running down your spine.

Suddenly you were nervous. You were sitting in Joel’s house on his couch, drinking his wine as you basked in his presence. It was a lot to handle. He was a lot.

You took a swig of the wine as it ran down your throat. It was smooth and clean, tasting like a hint of raspberries. It was delicious. “This is really good,” you said as you took one more sip, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Glad you like it.” Joel took another sip of his and set it down next to yours. And then suddenly you didn’t know what to do with your hands. You were a nervous wreck.

“Sarah’s room is kind of a mess right now. I could always get some clean sheets on her bed, and you could sleep in there tonight. Or I could make up the couch for you. Whatever’s more comfortable and whichever you prefer.”

“Oh, the couch is fine,” you answered.

“You sure? I don’t mind,” he stated quickly.

“Yeah. I don’t want you going through all the trouble of getting her room set up. I’m sure she doesn’t exactly want me taking over her bed,” you laughed. “The couch is fine,” you confirmed.

“Alright. If you change your mind let me know.”

Joel was so nice. Always thinking of others before himself. And the way he tried to make an effort in everything he did was something you admired. He was an 11/10. The absolute perfect gentleman. A man you wanted to keep around. If he’d let you.

“How’s your head? Still hurt any?” he asked cautiously as he ran a hand through your hair, doing your best not to groan at the sensation of his fingers running down your scalp. He went over the sensitive spot, and it wasn’t so bad anymore. In fact, it felt a lot better.

“It’s not bad. Think that ice pack helped a lot and just rest helped,” you said as you leaned into his touch, not wanting his hand to move away just yet.

“Glad to hear it,” he said with his fingers still entwined in your hair. You wanted to tell him not to stop. You wanted to lean over and lay in his lap, let him gently massage your scalp till you fell asleep. He must’ve got the hint because he slowly massaged your scalp, digging his fingernails into just the right spots, making you feel so good. That turned into a groan as the noise came from deep in your throat, making you close your eyes for a few seconds as if to revel in the pure bliss of his thick fingers.

“Feel good?” he asked in a low tone, making your legs squeeze together at the mere sound of his voice.

“Mhm,” you answered back, not able to fully make a clear sentence right now. He laughed as you leaned into his touch, clearly enjoying himself as much as you were.

He finally stopped after a few minutes, slowly taking his fingers away from your hair and gently laying his hand down next to you. Right next to your thigh, carefully grazing his fingers against the bare skin, sending goosebumps from every area he touched on your outer thigh.

“Joel,” you stated quietly.

“Hmm?” he hummed out.

You turned your body to him, making his hand linger closer to the top of your thigh. “Thank you. For saving me again. If you wouldn’t have been there, I really don’t know if I’d be standing right now.”

He clenched his jaw and looked at you intently. Those warm honey eyes turning one shade darker. “‘Course, darlin’. I wasn’t gonna just leave you there. Had to get you out. They would’ve put you in the hospital if I wasn’t there to step in.” He looked so mad, seething almost. And you knew why. He hated seeing you get hurt. You could tell by the way he carried himself every time you were.

“But really, I can’t thank you enough. You’re my hero. And you saved me more times than one. For that I’m eternally grateful.” You placed a hand over his as you mouthed thank you again.

He moved his hand on top of yours and slowly traced his fingers up and down your hand, making your whole body lean into his gentle brushes to your skin. He felt electric, magnetic, so surreal.

“I’ll always be there when you need me, sunshine. Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” he said slowly, looking over your features with his warm eyes.

He raised a hand and gently caressed your cheek, drawing slow circles with his thumb. You leaned into his touch, wanting to simmer in that warmth. Wanting to lose yourself in his rough but also soft hands. He was so close to you now as his other hand landed on top of your thigh, slowly grazing your skin as he was sending warmth straight to your center, feeling that growing tension in the room. The heat taking over as feelings started to envelop your mind.

“About your contract. Can you get out of it?” he asked slowly, carefully observing your face.

You shook your head no, and he asked you another one. “What if you just got up and left, didn’t go back?”

“Then I’d be blacklisted from every dance company in the US. No one would ever dare hire me again. And that’s not what I want. I want to dance, but not for Carlotta and certainly not for Pierre. This wasn’t what I was expecting for my first big dance breakthrough. But I guess I have to deal with it,” you sighed, pulling your eyes off his face and staring at the floor as a wave of sadness hit you.

“Hey, look at me.” He placed his fingers under your chin and lifted your face back up to him, leveling his eyes with yours. “I’m gonna make sure you make it through those two months. And I’m gonna try my best to get under Carlotta’s skin. Make her back off you as much as possible. And I’ll make sure Pierre keeps his filthy hands off you,” he said with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, seething at the mere name of those two fools.

Your eyes were watery as you looked into the warm eyes of your knight in shining armor. The one that knew just how to save you in every way. You couldn’t get enough of him. Needed him so much that now you ached for him when he wasn’t around. Which was scary in itself. You were falling hard and fast.

“Why me?” you asked quietly as your eyes searched his face, looking for a clear answer of how you got so lucky in the first place.

“Because I saw that you were drowning and I couldn’t let you sink. You were too pretty, and you’re too special not to save,” he answered gently, keeping his thumb in place as it moved carefully over your jawline.

“Oh…” was all you could say. There was nothing else to say to that. It was…beautiful. He truly was your savior. Your gentle, brooding knight.

You sat there just staring at each other intensely, his hand still grazing your thigh and his fingers still sliding across the side of your face. It was so intimate. So sensual. You were more than just attracted to him. You were falling hard for everything he was. Kind, brave, protective, caring, thoughtful, and so much more.

You’d never felt like this for anyone. He was one of a kind. He was the one for you. You just knew it. You could feel it, taste it. That pull tugged at you, letting you know just how strong it was. It was magnetic on so many levels.

You could feel that tension hanging in the air. Could almost smell it as it hung over your head, sinking deep inside your body, wrapping itself around every nerve ending it could find. He was so close to your lips, you could almost taste him.

He pulled a lock of hair behind your ear and turned his gaze towards your lips. But before he acted on his instincts, he looked back up into your eyes and dropped his hand, leaning back into the couch. You internally groaned at the missed opportunity. He was so close to kissing you. So fucking close. You leaned your head back against the couch, but his hand still lingered over your thigh. Not once moving his hand away. And for now that was enough. That could be enough for tonight. It was something.

You sat in silence for a few more minutes until you heard a yawn come from Joel’s mouth. You looked at the clock and noticed it was 10:30pm. How’d it get so late so quick?

He slowly pushed himself off the couch, letting his fingers leave your thigh. Leaving your skin cold. Left yearning for his fingers to find your skin. Needing that warmth again.

“Well, it’s gettin’ late. Let me make up the couch for you, and I’ll let you get some sleep.” He went down the hall and grabbed some sheets and a pillow from the hall closet, coming back to get the couch ready. You wanted to stop him right there, ask if he would stay with you and let you cuddle. Feel his arm wrap around you as his fingers trailed up and down your body, giving you that warm feeling that everything would be okay because you were in his arms.

You got up from the couch and made your way to the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth and washing away the wine residue on your lips. As soon as you walked back into the living room, the couch was ready for you. New sheets were sprawled out, and a fluffy white pillow and thick blanket sat at the edge of the couch just waiting for you to fall into.

Before you got into bed, Joel took a step forward and spoke hesitantly. “Hey, umm. I was wondering if you had any plans tomorrow?” he asked nervously.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have anything. Why do you ask?” you cocked your head and tried to read his nervous expression.

“Well, if you don’t have anything going on do you maybe wanna go to Central Park? Or maybe drive to the beach?” He was looking at you with big chocolate eyes, a hint of a smile showing on his lips.

“Are you asking me on a date?” you laughed, beaming up at him with a big smile.

“Do you want it to be a date?” His expression turned to a questioning gaze, his eyebrows raised as an almost boyish grin took over. He was so damn cute.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, your eyes growing large with admiration for the handsome man that stood in front of you. “Yes,” you shook your head. “I’d love that.”

“Great. It’s a date then. Uhh well, goodnight. Get some rest, sunshine.” With that he turned towards the oak door and turned the knob, sliding through and disappearing as it shut tight behind him.

You sat up giddily and internally screamed at what just happened. Joel had asked you on an actual date. Ekk! You fell onto the fluffy pillow and pulled the blanket up to your chin, turning towards his door and outlining it with your eyes. You were in Joel’s house, sleeping on his couch, only feet from his room. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You had to calm down. You needed to get some rest. So you slowed your thoughts and closed your eyes, trying to focus on sleep and not on the big, strong man in the other room.

You woke up a couple hours later to the sound of crashing thunder outside. You were no stranger to storms, but they still put you on edge as you had been through one too many hurricanes. You tossed and turned for the next several minutes, watching as the shades of lightning lit up the living room with every crack of thunder that rumbled in the sky.

You covered your ears but it did nothing to calm your nerves. As you faced again towards Joel’s door, your mind raced with possibilities. What if you got up and walked into his room? Would he kick you out? Would he invite you into his bed as he wrapped his strong arms around your body? Would he touch you in the way that you wanted to be touched by him? The possibilities were endless.

You started to feel that pull again. The one that started deep in your chest and traveled to every nerve ending in your body. The room started to feel too hot as that tension returned. You could almost taste it. A small tickle in your throat that grew into a full on mouth watering hunger. You could get up and chase it, but you knew where that would lead you. It’d lead you to Joel’s room.

You bit your lip and flexed your fingers, gripping the sheets so tight that your nails were digging through the material. You couldn’t stay still anymore. You had to get up.

You pushed yourself up from the couch and paced the room, watching as the lightning made different shapes across the wall with every flash of light that came through the window. Tiger was sleeping peacefully in his bed in the corner of the room, not even bothered by the storm. But the storm wasn’t exactly what had you on edge. It was also Joel. And he was holding the reins on the storm, fueling your need and desire. Pulling you towards him.

You ended up right in front of his door just staring at the handle. Just another step and you’d be opening it, watching as his bed came into view, hoping he’d invite you in. Needing so badly to be wrapped in his arms. Wanting to feel the way his lips pressed against your waiting, parched lips.

You reached out and barely grazed the handle, suddenly changing your mind as you dropped your hand back to your side. Before you could turn around, Joel was turning the doorknob and opening the door. Your eyes went wide as he stood there with messy bed hair and a grey t-shirt that fit snuggly across his massive muscles. It was pulling at his biceps the way his arm flexed as he moved his hand up to his hair, pushing back those tousled curls.

And fuck was he pretty.

He had on a pair of grey sweatpants and you had to force yourself to not look down. He was so fucking gorgeous, even from just waking up. Maybe even more so than you’d ever seen him.

“Sunshine? What are you doin’ up?” he asked sleepily as he yawned and rubbed his eyes, opening them again to get a better look at you.

“I…uhhh…I was just getting up to get a drink of water,” you said hurriedly, trying to calm yourself down from your racing heartbeat.

“Kitchen is the other way,” he laughed with a small smirk on his face, lifting one of his eyebrows in awareness. Catching you in your own lie.

Shit.

He took in your wide eyed expression and laughed. “Come on, I’ll get you a glass,” he said as he led you to the kitchen, putting a hand on the small of your back. The feeling of his fingertips on your t-shirt nearly sent you spiraling.

He opened the cabinet and got two glasses out, filling each with some cold water. He carefully handed you a cup as you quickly thanked him and took a large gulp, trying to calm your racing nerves down. He took a swig of water and set the glass on the counter, watching you carefully. You swear you could feel sweat start to form on your forehead. You swiped a hand over it nonchalantly and pulled back a lock of hair behind your ear, brushing it off like it was nothing.

His searing brown eyes were still on you, and you held in a gasp as you gazed up at him behind your long eyelashes as you clinged to the glass cup hard. You put it down on the kitchen island before it broke into tiny pieces in your hands.

You leaned back on the kitchen island and dug your fingers into the wood that laid behind your back, trying to get a hold of yourself. Joel was standing on the opposite side of you. One hand on the counter and the other flexed at his side. Just two people staring at each other intently in a quiet room in the middle of the night. All silent except for the rapid breaths that were coming from your mouth and his.

There was a thick tension that encased the air. It was so strong that you could feel it clinging to your skin as if someone was wrapping you up with saran wrap. Pulled so tight that you could barely breathe. It was stifling and heavy, the way that Joel was looking at you. The way his eyes trailed up and down you, landing on your lips, your neck, your thighs, and back up to meet your wide eyes.

It was too much. He was too much. You felt like you had a heated blanket on, the room was scorching. His eyes were absolutely smouldering, making you want to grab his t-shirt and press your lips to his. Wanting to get lost in that tousled hair. Wanting to feel his rough hands explore you. Wanting to give him every part of you.

A crack of thunder threw you out of your heated trance and made you jump, nearly knocking over the cup that sat behind you.

“Storms scare ya?” Joel asked sympathetically as he took a step toward you, his brown eyes staring down at you.

“Kinda. I’ve been through a few hurricanes so sometimes thunder just startles me,” you said quickly, dropping your hands to your side nervously.

“Oh, I see. Makes sense,” he said quietly.

He looked at the clock as it turned to 12:30am and shuffled slightly, eyeing you again slowly. “Well, guess I’ll let ya get back to bed. It’s pretty late.”

“Right,” you said back. Trying to hold in your disappointment.

You walked back with him to the living room, staying in his shadow as he opened his door wide, hearing the hinges squeak as they moved. He turned around and looked back down at you, just a mere two steps away. So close yet not close enough.

“You gonna be okay out here?” he asked with a raised brow, concern dancing in his honey eyes.

You nodded your head slowly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Another crack of thunder ripped through the sky, and you flinched at the noise. Joel noticed and shifted his weight, unsure of what to do. “I’m alright. It’s just a little thunder. Nothing I can’t handle,” you said with a small smile, making him give you one in return.

“Alright. Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” He cupped your chin and rested his fingers there for a second, dropping them all too soon as a gasp left your mouth. “Night, sunshine. Sleep tight.”

“Night,” you breathed out timidly. He gave you a tight smile and turned around, taking a step into his room. Your gaze went down to the floor as a strangled huff sat in your chest. You were internally groaning at how close you had gotten, could feel that tension that was consuming you whole. Needing to let it loose before it blanketed you into nothingness.

You were above to turn back to the couch until your heard Joel stop walking, the floorboards becoming silent. You turned to look at him and he was staring straight ahead. Slowly flexing and extending his hand into a fist as he was in deep thought about something.

Was he thinking about you? What was he…

He slowly turned back to face you as he raked a hand through his salt and pepper scruff, looking lost in thought. His eyes slowly trailed up to find your eyes and then there was that tension again. That spark of desire. Another wave of lightning flashed against the wall and then it was just you and him standing mere feet apart, two flames that were dying to collide with one another and burn together.

“Do you wanna come sleep in here tonight?” he asked timidly, keeping his eyes steady on you.

“Oh,” was all you could get out. You weren’t expecting that. Weren’t expecting him to ask you. And now you were a stuttering mess.

“You don’t have to. Just thought I’d offer,” he said as he started to turn back to his room.

You shot your hand out and grabbed a hold of his wrist, completely stopping him in his tracks. “No, I…I want to,” you said nervously, trying to keep your stutter to a minimum.

The corners of his mouth curled up and he gave you one of those smiles that could make you go weak at the knees. God, he was gorgeous.

“Well, c’mon then.”

He led you inside and you were met with a massive king sized bed in the middle of the room. The sheets were all made up and a large blue comforter was draped across the bed. Leaving two fluffy cotton pillows at the head of the bed. And suddenly you were overwhelmed with nerves as you tried to get a hold of yourself, telling yourself that you’d be fine. It was just to sleep. You were going to sleep and that was all.

“What side do you want?” he drawled, pushing back the comforter and leaving space to get in.

“Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll take whichever side,” you said graciously.

He hummed under his breath. “Okay then. I’ll take the right side. You can have the left,” he said as he pulled back the blanket and slid in on his side.

Then there was you. Standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed. Joel raised an eyebrow at you and was looking curiously at you, so you gave him no more room for questions. You crept over to the left side and gently crawled in, being careful not to get too close to his side.

You pulled the blanket up to your chest and rolled to the left side so you could face the wall and not the other way around. You were way too nervous and right now you just needed to calm yourself down.

Breathe. But you couldn’t. Not when he was in the room. Not when you were in his bed.

The tension filled the air again. This time it was hot and sticky. A tension that tore at your insides that begged to be released. You could feel your pulse speed up, could feel just how in tune with your body you were. You could feel that heat fill the air, make its way to you and work its way slowly into your core. Feeling that hungry desire you so desperately wanted to put to bed. Could practically taste the primal needs that you so desperately wanted to experience.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You turned towards the right side of the bed and audibly gasped when you saw Joel staring right back at you, leaning on his left side. Keeping his gaze on you.

The tension was everywhere then. His deep brown eyes were so calm, so collected. You didn’t move. You couldn’t. His gaze was holding you in place. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. The only thing you could hear was the raindrops that pelted against the window and the breaths shared between you and Joel.

He slowly, ever so carefully reached out a hand and caressed your cheek gently, pushing back a lock of hair and tucking it behind your ear. Still keeping his hand on you, trailing slow circles on your jawline and moving it down beneath your chin, lifting your head just the slightest.

You sucked in a breath when he placed his thumb on your bottom lip, making gentle strokes as light as a feather. Feeling that tingling sensation light up your senses. And then he was sliding over in the bed, sealing that empty space between your bodies.

He was now right next to you, his forehead meeting yours as he dropped his thumb from your lip and filled the space with his own lips. He grazed against your lips, just enough to where you could feel just how soft they really were. You were almost begging him to kiss. Begging him to take control and take all of you.

After a couple seconds of hesitation and waiting for any response from you, he closed the distance and pressed his lips against yours. And there it was. That moment that you had been waiting for for days. And it was exactly what you pictured it’d be like. Exactly what you’d envisioned for so long.

His pace went from gentle to primal. He pulled you on top of him and kissed you deeper, bringing his fingers to rake through your hair, making you groan at the feel of him. He took that as a positive response and drank you in. You parted your mouth, and he chased your tongue with his, swirling it around yours like you were in a dance. Tasting a shot of espresso and honey like taste against his tongue.

He was delicious. A taste you wanted to devour again and again. Never coming up for air.

He grabbed your hips and flipped you around, softly landing on your back. He continued ravaging you with his mouth, twisting and turning his tongue as he took one of his hands and gently slid it up your shirt, just enough to feel your burning skin as his calloused fingers ran over your smooth skin.

He unlatched from your mouth and made his way to your neck, kissing, sucking, biting on your most sensitive spots. He found one in particular hypersensitive spot, and as he sucked on it you let out a moan and dug your fingers into the back of his neck.

“You like that?” he asked with his mouth still sliding up your neck.

“Mhmm,” you groaned out. You heard him chuckle under his breath as he slid his tongue up your neck, teasing at that spot again. You suppressed a moan as he continued teasing you, sliding his hand across your waistband, carefully slipping just the tips of his fingers underneath. The teasing was building heat between your legs. You could already feel you were soaking as another wave of slick found its way into your underwear. You could practically hear the sloshing with every move you made.

His affect on you was almost stifling. He didn’t even have to try hard because you were already burning for him. You were desperate for his touch, aching for his mouth, longing for him to kiss every square inch of your body.

He pulled at your earlobe and planted soft kisses just underneath that, driving you crazy from desire. You fisted his grey shirt and practically begged him to take you. “Joel…” you groaned out, hearing that desperate plea in your tone. That seductive bedroom voice that you were almost embarrassed to use.

He traced his lips over your cheek and hovered above you, staring at you with those deep brown eyes. “What do you want?” he asked with a low drawl, his voice sounding like velvet.

“You…” you answered back quietly.

He focused his gaze on you for a few seconds, letting that tension fill back up the thick air, and then he moved quickly. He pulled off your oversized t-shirt and threw it on the floor. He latched his hands around your back and undid the clasps of your bra, peeling it off and throwing it on the floor right next to your shirt, leaving you completely bare as your nipples were already pebbled over.

He ran his hands over your breasts and moved to get situated in between your legs as he leaned over and ran his tongue in slow circles over your taut nipples. You groaned at the feel of it and moved your leg up, gently wrapping it around his waist. He gave the same attention to the other one as he ran his hands down your waist again, teasing again at the waistband.

He gently slid your shorts off your hips and down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your soaked pink lacy underwear. He gently teased you, hooking a finger under the lacy material and running his finger dangerously close to your center. You squirmed underneath him and bucked your hips, wanting more, needing more.

He smirked up at you as he trailed a finger along the waistband. “This what you want, sunshine? Want me to make you feel good?” he asked in a low seductive voice.

“Please,” you begged, turning into mush underneath his touch.

“Please what?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to answer.

“Touch me,” you pleaded, biting your lip in response.

“Touch you where? Here?” he asked as he took his hand and cupped your center, feeling that pulsing need in between your legs. “Or here?” he slid his hand underneath your underwear and found your folds, gently gliding his finger along your sticky mess. You groaned in response and nodded.

“Already so fucking wet for me, sunshine. Goddamn,” he breathed out, slowly biting the edge of his lip as he drew his hand back out of your wet underwear, gently catching your clit before his fingers disappeared, making you groan in response.

“Let’s get you out of these,” he said as he slowly pulled them down your legs, letting them fall to the floor in a heap, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable to the man with the burning eyes.

He spread your legs and took in your entire body, slowly licking his lips as if he was about to eat you up. It made another wave of slick slide down your folds, landing underneath you on the sheets. Joel’s eyes got darker, more primal as he noticed just what he did to you.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he said as his breathing picked up, and you could see just how hard he was underneath his sweatpants.

Fuck.

He made himself flat on the bed and trailed kisses up the inside of your thighs, so close to your center that you could feel it pulse around you. He gently blew on your center as he made his way down the other thigh, driving you fucking crazy from anticipation.

“Please,” you begged, needing his mouth on you.

“Please what? Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want,” he stated, eyes locking with yours as he left another kiss along your inner thigh.

“Your fingers…your mouth…please.” You were a desperate mess, dying to feel what it’d be like for him to devour you, make you scream as white hot pleasure consumed you entirely.

He muffled out a laugh as he moved to your center, right above your folds. “Such a needy girl,” he laughed.

“Yes, needy for you,” you groaned through gritted teeth, already turned on to the max.

He chuckled in response. “Don’t worry, darlin’. Gonna take good care of ya. Gonna give you exactly what you want.”

Joel spit on the tops of your folds and took his fingers and slowly rubbed the spit over your entire pussy, filling up your center with heat as you heard the sloshing and wet noises take over the room. He slid a finger inside you and slowly started pumping, spreading you even wider as he joined a second finger in. You moaned out at the feel of his thick fingers, as they hooked up and met that one spongy part that nearly had you coming already.

“Hold on, darlin’. Gonna see just how good you taste.” He took his tongue and ran it up the entire length of your pussy, letting you feel just how rough and wet his tongue was.

He spread your folds wide and slowly drew circles around your clit, making you squeeze your legs around his back. That made him more hungry, more starving for your taste. He sucked your clit into his mouth and then released, keeping his tongue busy by flicking your bundle of nerves rapidly.

You cried out with a moan as you grabbed onto his tousled curls and fisted your fingers in his hair. Holding on for dear life. He wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs and stared up at you as he devoured your pulsing clit, sending more slick down the center, right into his mouth.

God, the way he was looking at you was so primal, so full of lust. His honey eyes were no more. They were now big black pits that threatened to take hold of you completely.

He kept his eyes on you as he licked you, drank you down, sucked you into his mouth, and you couldn’t break his lustful gaze at all. It was dominant, intense, so intimate the way he was eating you out with his rough tongue, his index and middle finger sinking deep inside you, stretching you to the max. Working you over so good that you were almost there, so close to orgasm. You could feel it building in your chest and making its way down to your center, growing so hot that you swore you were already seeing stars.

“Taste so good, baby,” he drawled in between breaths, sinking back down on your aching clit.

“Joel…” you moaned, barely able to catch your breath. “Please…”

“I know, baby. I know. You’re so close for me. Let me take care of ya. Want you to come for me. Be a good girl and let me taste ya, darlin’,” he groaned, still flicking your clit with his tongue and pumping deep inside you.

He hooked his fingers and started moving vigorously, hitting that spongy spot in just the right area, pushing you to spill for him. You were almost there, so fucking close that you could feel the tingling sensation start to take over starting from your head, trailing down to your pulsing core and making its way down to your curling toes.

“I…I’m almost there…Joel, I’m gonna come,” you cried, scratching your nails against his scalp, pulling at his tousled bed hair.

“That’s it, sunshine. Come on now, that’s a good girl. So good for me…”

He pulled you down further in the bed and attacked your wet, throbbing mound, feasting his mouth all over you as you could hear him flick and suck your dripping pussy. He stared intensely at you with those black pits and took your bundle of nerves in his mouth, pulling and sucking slowly, trying to feed your growing orgasm. And then you were gone.

You threw your head back and felt your eyes roll into the back of your skull as white hot bliss took over. You could feel your intense orgasm release as you were spilling yourself all over him. “Joel…” you moaned loudly as your legs were shaking uncontrollably while he lapped up all the slick in between your legs and finally released his fingers from inside you, slowly popping them in his mouth as he sucked seductively, lapping up every bit of you he could.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sunshine. Did so good for me. You taste even better than I imagined,” he smirked as he made one final lick to his index fingering, sending you over the edge with his smoldering gaze and seductive words.

You let your body relax into the now soaked sheets, let your legs unlatch from his body as you came down from your high. Your breath was so heavy you could barely hear the storm that was pounding the rooftop outside. You couldn’t hear it because there was a storm of your own inside the room, inside his bed.

He was hovering over you, gently caressing your cheek, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead, saying how good you did for him. Building a fire deep inside you again. Wanting more of him, needing more of him.

You looked down and still saw the bulge thickly lined against his sweatpants. Feeding a hunger inside you that you needed to take care of. You slowly reached for his pants and just as you tried to pull them down, Joel stopped you with his hands.

“Now wait a minute, sunshine. Don’t think you can handle that right at this moment,” he stated as he stared down into your eyes, eyes that were turning warmer with every second you looked at him.

“I can handle it,” you urged, a persistency that escaped from your throat. You honed into his honey eyes and begged with your eyes, giving him those puppy eyes you know he couldn’t resist.

His jaw clenched as you saw him ponder your proposition. Slowly biting down on his lip the longer he looked at you. Giving in slowly but surely.

“Are you sure, darlin’? Might be a lot for ya right now. Don’t wanna make you too sore.”

You reached your arm out and wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer so your lips were just inches from tasting him. You pulled him down further and put your lips right over his ear, whispering seductive things to him. “I want you to make me sore. Won’t you make me come again? With something other than your tongue and fingers. Maybe with something a little bigger…”

You trailed your hand down his rock hard abs, past the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly grabbing the outline of his thick cock and sliding your hand up and down his length through the soft material.

He sucked in a breath hard and grabbed your wrist tight. “Jesus Christ, darlin’. You want me inside you? You want my cock?” he drawled with that thick southern accent of his, pushing you down on the bed again.

“Mhm. Want your cock deep inside me. Want you to fuck me so good that all I can do is scream your name,” you groaned, a low tone seeping out of your mouth.

“Fuck…” Joel moaned. “Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth, sunshine.”

“Only for you,” you said as you fluttered your eyelashes up at him flirtatiously.

“Mmm I like the sound of that,” he groaned. “Don’t worry, darlin’. Gonna take real good care of ya. Now c’mere,” he said as he dragged you lower in the bed and sunk his mouth down on yours, finding your tongue quickly as he swirled his around yours, ravaging him up as you threw your arms over his neck, sinking him deeper to your body.

He broke the kiss and sat back, tugging his shirt over his head and fisting his fingers over the waistband of his sweatpants as he pulled them down and threw them to the floor, along with his boxers. He was left with nothing on, and you gasped at just how large he actually was.

Holy shit. He was massive.

His hard erection was planted against his stomach as the veins wrapped around his length. He was well over five inches and God was he thick. A bead of precum spilt down his tip and trailed down his length, ending in his wiry hair around his shaft.

God, he was pretty. You wanted to know what he tasted like, but more importantly you wanted him inside you. Right now.

He spread your legs wide and crawled up in between your legs, putting the tip right next to your weeping folds, anticipating just how good it’d feel for him to be inside your walls.

“You ready for this, sunshine?” he asked with raised brows, his fingers brushing against your sensitive clit, making slick pool from your core.

“Mhmm. Need you,” you whispered.

“That’s right, darlin’. Gonna fuck you now. Hold on tight.”

He slowly pushed inside you, stretching your walls just to the point of pain, making you wince at the size of him. He slowly started going in and out of you. Pushing your legs even further apart. He picked up the pace a little, digging into you deeper, making you whine into his ear at the pressure that was building.

“Taking me so good, sunshine. You want more?” he slurred into your ear.

“Mhmm,” you moaned out.

“Good. Now I know you’re flexible, so I’m gonna lift your leg, okay? Gonna make you feel me deeper. Let me make you feel good,” he drawled out with a purr.

“Please,” you begged.

He took your left leg and lifted it over his shoulder, wrapped your other leg around his back. You could feel that extra pull, feel him hit that spongy part of your walls as you moaned out his name.

“That’s right, darlin’. Want you to scream my name. Wanna know just how good I’m makin’ you feel.” He fucked deeper into you, picking up his pace as you heard the wet, slick sounds of his cock driving into you, sliding up and down, making you lose absolute control of your body. You felt like you were floating. The pressure was building so intensely that you were almost coming undone. Almost there.

“Joel, I’m so close…I’m so…” you moaned out.

“That’s it, sunshine. Say my name. Be a good girl and come for me, come on my cock,” he groaned.

He slammed back into you, bottoming out at the back of your walls as you felt yourself holding on for dear life. The pressure was everywhere. You could feel that white hot sensation creeping back into you.

He pressed his thumb down on your aching clit and worked it slowly, circling you in just the right area. Feeling your body letting go, feeling wet slick pool down your walls as you scratched your nails down his back and moaned his name loudly.

“Joel!” you screamed as you felt your walls clench around him and then suddenly release, opening the flood gates of your intense orgasm.

“Oh, that’s a good girl. That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he growled as he rammed up into you, chasing your intense orgasm with his own growing desire, almost there for him too.

“Joel, want you to fill me up, come inside me,” you begged, watching his eyes burning into you, getting lost in those black pits.

“Whatever you want I’ll give ya,” he said with gritted teeth, so close to orgasming, baring his teeth and trying to hold on for as long as possible.

A few more thrusts inside you and he was finished for. He took one final plunge into you and bit down on his lip, rolling his eyes back as he furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Goddamn, baby. Feels so fuckin’ good inside you,” he growled, stilling his tired body, slowly releasing himself from inside you as his seed spilt down your thighs. White, hot shots of come spilling all around you.

He collapsed on the bed and brought you to his chest, wrapping a strong arm around you as you threw a leg over his hips, finding that perfect comfy spot close to him as you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck.

And then it was all fast breaths and longing stares, just you and him tangled in the sheets together. The absolute perfect end to a Friday night. The only place you wanted to be. In his arms.

He grazed his hand up and down your arm, holding you close as he let his other hand caress your cheek, sliding his fingers into your thick waves. Lulling you into pure bliss, right on the edge of sleep.

“Should really get you cleaned up, sunshine. We made quite a mess,” he laughed as he looked to the soaked, scrunched up sheets, still feeling his seed in between your legs.

You hummed out a quiet response. “I’ll be alright. Save it till morning. I just wanna stay right here in your arms,” you faintly said, words barely leaving your mouth.

He looked closely at you as he took in all your features, coming to a conclusion. “Alright, baby. But in the morning I’m gonna clean you up in the shower,” he said, continuing to trail his fingers over your arm, gently sliding down your back, making you sigh deep into his strong chest.

“Sounds perfect,” you hummed out, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Alright,” he said with a low chuckle, continuing to stroke your long locks, lulling you to sleep.

“I’m so tired,” you breathed out, voice as quiet as a mouse.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ve got you,” he hummed into your ear, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Such an angel,” he whispered, fingers digging into your scalp, his other hand stroking slow circles up and down your back.

You listened to the rain softly pelt the window, taking in the slow breaths coming from Joel, feeling his chest go in and out as your hand rested against his bare skin, letting his soft, raspy voice hum you to sleep.

And then you were out like a light, falling into a deep sleep where you dreamed of dark eyes and twisted bed sheets, reliving the blissful moment over and over again. This was what peace felt like. He was peace, your safe place. And that’s where you’d continue to stay. Never wanting to leave his side.

Your hero, your savior, your everything.

Part 4

Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list 🥰 @amyispxnk @janaispunk @joelswritingmistress @tuquoquebrute

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #protective joel #joel x reader #joel x you #smut #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrohub #pedro pascal #pedrostories #angst

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 10 months

Text

play with fire

pairing: ethan landry x female!reader

WC: 1.7K

warnings: stabbing, blood mentions. should be it.

summary: intermission to act three

A/N: wrote this in one day so that may explain why it might suck and not make sense at parts. also had this song on repeat as i wrote and was inspire by the ethan edits that used this song.

@alecmores 💗 (even tho they hate me for this one)

been in the drafts since may 6

masterlist / ethan landry

🎧 play with fire the red means i love you beast

the subway stations of new york were always packed and busy with rushing bodies, but with it being halloween, it was doubled and worse with people wearing costumes. many wearing the ghostface costume, and it felt like they all had eyes watching your little group of friends.

you are stuck near the back with ethan by your side and holding your hand. your group of seven was on the way back to the abandoned theater to lay a trap for ghostface and end this shit before more people die. you just gotta get through the next few stops in a crowded metal tub and hope you aren’t picked off one by one.

you could barely hear anyone over the loud talking and screeching of wheels. the crowds started to get thicker and your hand slowly slipped free from ethan. you stood still as your head swiveled left and right trying to spot his head of curls over the crowd. you pulled your phone from your back pocket and tried calling but you had no signal. with one more look around you finally spotted him with mindy who looked pissed by his mere existence, her guard never dropping around the boy, sticking to the thought of him being a ghostface.

you push past people, saying “excuse me” or “sorry” only a few times before not caring. you saw ethan’s head looking to where you saw mindy stalk towards and then his eyes looked around frantically.

you walked up behind him and grabbed his bicep. he jumped at the touch and turned around, his eyes alert, but melted away once he realized it was just you.

“was wondering where you went.” he pulled you into a hug. an excuse to have you close so as not to be separated again.

“where’s mindy?” ethan jerked his head to the left and you saw mindy who leaned forward and watched the two of you. you waved a hand for her to come back, but she shooed the two of you away.

“what’s up her ass?” you grumbled. you felt the shake of ethan’s chest from his chuckle and could faintly hear the melody. “still thinks i’m ghostface.” he spoke beside your ear as he rubbed your back.

moving your face away from his chest, you looked up at ethan whose eyes dimmed just a little at the thought of his friend not trusting him. “well i don’t. and mindy is always judging people, it’s the ‘horror expert’ thoughts.”

ethan flashed a quiet smile, it was there and now it’s gone. you tugged his chin with two fingers before pulling him in for a distracting kiss. as you pulled away you kissed the tip of his nose before turning in his arms, back to his chest. the two of you, plus mindy, just waiting for the next train.

it finally pulled up after a few minutes and you moved with the crowd. mindy continued to stay away from both of you and you narrowed your eyes toward her. “isn’t it best to stick together?” you would have asked her if you could move without someone elbowing your ribs. ethan and you weren’t too far from mindy who leaned against a door as she stared down at her phone. ethan held the metal bar that was attached to the ceiling while you stood in front of his chest with your hand grasping the metal pole beside you.

everyone was swaying with the momentum of the train going and then stopping. some people would get off then more people would crowd the small space. you could barely see mindy at this point and you still had multiple stops to make. you leaned your head on ethan’s chest and focused on his heartbeat, it sped up just a bit and you smiled tenderly.

“i wish you stayed home.” you heard ethan beside your ear. his tone was a bit strained.

with a tilt of your head, you stared into his eyes. his honey-brown, homey eyes. made your insides melt like ice cream on a hot summer day and your legs turn to jelly. “if we stick together, our chances are higher. plus, i can’t leave you. rather get a few cuts and bruises than worry a hole into my floor about your well-being.”

you let your free hand play with ethan’s curls. his eyes closed at the sensation, at your touch. you loved the pull, the power you had over him. the hand moved from his brown tresses and slid to hold his cheek in your palm. pushing up on your tiptoes and dipping your eyes to his lips, ethan closed the distance. he let go of his backpack strap and slipped it around your waist and tugged you in closer.

noses were pressed to cheeks, lips were getting slick with spit and hands were leaving burning touches. you hummed into ethan’s mouth as he got a bit brave and moved his tongue into your mouth. you snaked your arm around his neck and locked him in place, not wanting the moment to end anytime soon.

you saw the flickering of light behind your closed lids and even with your hearing picking bits of ethan’s moans, you could tell no one would hear a thing. releasing the pole, you wrapped your fingers around the sturdy handle and slipped the knife from your pocket slowly. you made sure to keep the weapon concealed as you decided to take a breath.

glistening lips only an inch away, breaths fanning over the skin and smiles beaming, and eyes shining like stars in an open sky. you kept ethan close. “i love you.” you whispered, but knew he heard you.

“i love you too. can’t wait for this to be over.” and ethan moved back in.

you smiled into the kiss as did your boyfriend. it did have to end, but you wish the relationship didn’t. all part of the plan though as you reminded yourself from backing out.

with ethan distracted, you took the plunge and sunk the gleaming knife into his abdomen. you heard his gasp and felt his mouth move. you made sure to keep him enclosed with your arm still tight behind his neck as you swallowed his grunts of pain.

“it’s okay. it’s okay, baby. the worst hasn’t even happened yet. just breathe.” whispered to his ear as you pushed his head onto your shoulder. you felt his arm flex and his hand grabbing the material of your shirt.

“y/n…” your name was a cry from his mouth. the one you kissed just a second ago. you had to shut the sound from your mind. “i wouldn’t scream for help. kinda noisy.” a hard edge to your voice before dropping it and switching back to airy and light.

“you know,” you kept talking to continue the look of a normal couple being sickly in love on the subway, “you were supposed to die in the apartment, but i couldn’t do it. i love you way too much for you to go in a brutal way. plus i wanted to spend our last moments together and in fantasy.” you petted his hair.

you tugged the knife upward, ripping his stomach open. ethan’s groans of pain were muted by the chatter and music playing from a radio. you placed kiss after kiss to his temple. wanting him to know that you cared for him deeply, but the plan always came first.

“i’m sorry, ethan. you weren’t originally part of the plan, but then anika changed her mind. some bullshit about how if her love interest dies, mine should as well.” you rattled away. you made a pass of the car, no one was paying you any mind. not even mindy.

“now,” your voice dropped lower, “you may be wondering, ‘why are y/n and anika ghostface?’ well simply put, boredom… maybe a psychotic.” at the word psychotic, you twisted the knife and you groaned as ethan sank his teeth into your shoulder.

“it’s fine, baby.” nails scraping his scalp, “i know you hate me, i know. and i understand. i would hate me too. i just want you to know,” turning your face closer with your lips brushing the shell of his ear, “our whole relationship… it was one hundred percent real. every kiss, every touch. every word i moaned in bed or shouted when drunk. the whole nine yards.”

your eyes got teary and the people around you got blurry. your heart ached, felt like it was starting to sink to your stomach. while your brain was telling you to man up and finish the job. you slammed your eyes shut and heaved a shaky sigh. you didn’t want the lecture from anika about weakness.

“y/n…” ethan’s breath skated over your neck. you just hummed as you rubbed his shoulder blades. “i’m just… disappointed.” his chest was heaving with each word. “but i still… love you.”

the announcer prepared everyone for the stop. with tears sliding down your cheeks you noticed an empty bench behind the two of you. with ethan leaning on you, you pushed both of your bodies backward until his knees bent and he slumped down. you sat on his lap to cover the knife and blood staining his blue polo.

“i have to meet our friends at the theater. don’t want to be late for the big show.” lips meet his moist forehead. “i have to pull the knife out just before the stop. but if you would just allow me…”

you tilted ethan’s face back to yours. his skin was losing a bit of color and his lips were being stained a light red from the blood pooling in his mouth. “one more kiss?” you dived in before ethan gave a nod or a noise. your smooth lips clashed with his that was beginning to pool with blood. you moaned at the taste and scent. fingers curling tight in his coils.

the loud screeching of wheels was followed by the sway of bodies. and then you heard the swoosh of the doors opening and the thundering of multiple footsteps. you yanked the knife out and pushed off ethan’s lap. joining the swarm of moving bodies and blending into the crowd even though you guessed mindy still wasn’t paying any mind. you couldn’t help the smirk that appeared out of thin air when you thought of the fate she was about to meet at the hands of quinn. you immediately headed out the exit and up the steps.

time for act three.

...

tags: @astrxq

#Ethan Landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry blurb #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry angst #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry scream 6 #Scream VI #Scream 6 #scream 6 imagine #scream 6 x reader #jack champion scream 6 #Jack Champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion image

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mixtape-racha · 9 months

Text

greenlight | lee minho

☆ part 2/8 of the 5 seconds of stray kids series ☆

words: 1.56k // warnings: soft dom!minho, dumbification (kinda)

“tell me you want me. tell me you want this as much as i do. we could have all night if you just say the word.”

and when minho looked at you with those bright eyes you’d grown to love, how could you deny him? in fact, you were sure you wanted this more than anything in the world.

your arms swung with minho’s hand in yours as you left the movie theater and headed back to the bus stop. it was your second official date after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and a movie after dinner seemed perfect - neither of you particularly enjoyed loud or flashy things anyway; your first date ever was literally just visiting the animal shelter and admiring the cute cats there.

although you had had your fair share of relationships during your early adulthood, you were sure that minho was your first real love. being with him, everything was perfect, and it made you feel like you were floating above cloud nine. you were lucky to live so close to him, too - being only across the hall in your respective university apartments - which meant you could spend as much time as you wanted with him to develop your budding relationship.

in fact, you only had one line left to cross. minho was in no rush to have sex with you - well, thats what he told himself, anyway. of course, he wanted to. everything you did was like a drug to him, and many of your date nights ended in him sloppily fucking into his palm before the scent of your perfume left his hoodie. but he was never going to rush you into it, and you had shown him no sign of needing him as bad as he needed you.

but god, he couldn’t have been more wrong. your trusty vibrator had finally given up and died from so much use after you and minho began your relationship. all he had to do was wink at you, and you were soaking. let alone if he put his hand on your thigh while driving, or leant down to whisper in your ear during a party. even during the movie - all he did was rub your arm comfortingly where he had an arm over your shoulders, and you had to clench your thighs to stop you from pouncing on him then and there. but you didn’t want to rush or push him into sleeping with you, and he seemed to have himself together a lot better than you did.

god, both of you were so oblivious.

you had decided very early into your meal - minho had insisted on taking you for sushi and stopping at a milkshake place on your way to the cinema - that you were going to stay at his dorm that night. now, with your skimpy underwear and innate craving to feel him all over you, you weren’t sure it was your best idea. i mean, after all, what was stopping you from pouncing on him like a wild animal in desperate need for a meal?

the bus ride was quiet - it was pretty busy, and neither of you particularly enjoyed that, so you situated yourselves at the back of the bus, sharing minho’s headphones as arctic monkey played. his flatmates (jisung and hyunjin) had gone out for a gig tonight, taking his car, and so you knew they would end up drunk in the backseat, parked in a random mcdonalds parking lot, leaving the entire dorm for the two of you until the early afternoon, most likely.

that thought had you craving your boyfriend even more, knowing you could be as loud as you wanted, and maybe - if he wanted to explore - not be confined to just his bedroom.

it wasn’t that either of you were inexperienced, but the idea of taking such a big step in your relationship was so important to you both that neither of you wanted it to be a rushed or impulsive decision. but god, you wanted him more and more as the bus approached your stop. you knew he wouldn’t care that you weren’t in pretty lingerie, or that you hadn’t shaved your legs. you knew he would think you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and you knew he’d voice that too. he would do anything to make you feel special and loved, and that night what you needed was him to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you.

the bus finally reached your stop, and you were so out of it that you allowed minho to manhandle you to your feet, pulling you along after thanking the driver. he chuckled at your vacant expression, rubbing your cheek softly.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby, hmm?” he questioned as you entered the elevator, only moments away from his apartment where you could finally have him all to yourself. your words seemed to betray you, mouth working faster than your brain as his words made you tremble.

“need you, min. just– need you.” your words came out as a whine as you nuzzled your head into his shoulder, which slightly inhibited his ability to lead you out of the elevator and to his front door, but he didn’t mind at all.

“yeah? want me to take you all night, huh?” you had previously discussed all your likes and dislikes in bed just to cover all bases before anything actually happened, and unsurprisingly a lot of your kinks lined up with minho’s perfectly. “just say the word, angel, and you know i’ll give you anything you want.”

he knew that when you were tired and needy, you almost lost the capacity to think for yourself, and that you were more than willing to submit yourself fully to him and let him do all the thinking for you. he was more than happy to indulge you like that, but he needed to be sure you were in the correct headspace to consent - especially as it would be your first time together doing more than heatedly making out or going down on one another.

he lead you gently into the apartment, kneeling down to help you rid yourself of your shoes and your jacket before pulling you into a warm hug. you both swayed gently in the entryway, your brain firing at almost 100 miles a second, hands grasping onto your boyfriend’s skin wherever they could reach.

“please, min. just wanna be good for you, want you to make me feel good.”

your words were all he needed to pull you into a searing kiss, guiding your hands to rest on his hips while his wandered upwards to cup your cheeks. without breaking the kiss - he had the layout of the apartment mapped in his head - he carefully guided you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed once you were both inside.

his tongue pressed on your lower lip, demanding dominance before you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to massage yours in the nicest way possible. all the while, his hands were nimbly working on your shirt buttons, popping them open with ease before he slipped the sleeves down your arms and discarded the item behind him.

left clad in just your cycling shorts and bra, all of your senses seemed heightened, and you whined pathetically as the material of minho’s shirt rubbed against your bare skin.

“what’s wrong, hmm?” he asked, lips barely leaving yours to mumble out the words. you whimpered and tugged at the hem of his shirt, which made him chuckle. “use your words, baby, or i can;t give you what you want.”

“shirt, min,” you whimpered, eyebrows furrowed as you pulled away from the kiss and looked up at him with doe eyes. “off.”

yet another chuckle left his lips, and he pushed you back gently until you fell on the bed, reaching up to rid himself of his shirt.

“why don’t you take those shorts off for me, love. wanna see if those pretty panties you’re hiding look as good as that bra, yeah?”

he was so condescending in the best way, and it lit a spark in your core. your body seemed to be working on its own as you peeled your shorts off and laid out on the bed to show yourself off to him. this seemed to please him as he grinned and removed his jeans, crawling onto the bed and resting above you using his arms for support.

“you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” when you whined again, he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand and a glint in his eye. “stop stressing your pretty head, baby. i’m gonna take care of you - just wanna look at you first.”

it was something he enjoyed, just looking at you. admiring you, if you will. knowing you were all for him, so pliant and willing to do anything asked before he could ever finish a sentence. it was a power trip, for sure, knowing you trusted him enough to have complete control over you like this, and he loved every second.

seeing how you squirmed under him, under his stare, had his throbbing in his boxers and he couldn’t wait to ravish you. the flush on your cheeks, spreading down your chest and across your ears. he’d never seen anything more beautiful, and he couldn’t wait a second longer to show you that.

he shushed your whines with a gentle kiss to your lips, reaching down to hook your leg over his hip.

“hush now, pretty girl. i’ll take care of you. let that pretty brain go blank, and let me do all the thinking and work for you, yeah?”

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @skz-streamer @hyunjiins @backintomykpopphaseagain @demetrisscarf

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cultofdixon · 1 year

Text

It Takes a Village

Daryl Dixon [HINTS] / Rick Grimes [PLATONIC] • She/Her Pronouns • Everyone upon meeting you has seen you as “the little sister” even if you’re only blood related to the Rick Grimes. No one hates you, you do your part and even go beyond. So when this new change in your life started to grow…everyone was going to pitch in • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / One-Night Stand / Anxiety Attacks / Illness / PTSD / Canon Violence Mentioned • Re-Writing Canon [literally ignoring 90% of the Savior arc deaths]

Requested by: Anon

The walk of shame feels even worse during the apocalypse Y/N thought as she tried to be quiet when walking through the courtyard of the Kingdom.

“Maybe yea shouldn’t have drank so much tonight”

The familiar voice caused Y/N to freeze in her tracks before turning toward the sound finding Carol in her new spot at the kingdom, holding herself a glass of whiskey that Abraham gifted her as she was comfortable in her spot.

“I barely drank tonight…I’m just. Leaving the scene before the guy gets the wrong idea…”

“Not a long term gal? Isn’t your brother thinking of marrying Michonne?”

“Oh god. Rick…Don’t bring this up to Rick” Y/N begged Carol as she approaches the woman who scooted to the side on her bench. Letting the younger Grimes sibling sit beside her.

“I won’t. But if this guy does try anythin’ yea don’t like…you let me know.”

“It was just a one-time thing. I think he got that idea loud and clear” Y/N leans back into the bench looking up at the starry night. “But I will…I’ll let you know”

“You go back tomorrow?” Carol asks watching Y/N nod. She was only visiting the Kingdom to deliver some seeds for them to rebuild their gardens and to bring medicine back to Alexandria. “You know I could use company here”

“What do you mean? Your boyfriend is company”

“Yeah yeah. But I’m taking someone I could go hunting with. Or sneak off with just for a breather.” Carol sighs. “I’m not a relationship person either, but I’m bending”

“Ezekiel is a lucky guy, and everyone knows he’ll treat you right” Y/N shot her a smile while tightening the laces on her boots. “Part of me wants that one day…but I don’t know if I even want that”

“That’s normal, hun” Carol pats her thigh when she leaned back in a reassuring way. “Wanna stay with us tonight or stick in the theater like you usually do?”

“Can I stay with you?”

“Can I stay with you—-Bitch, I wouldn’t have asked” Carol laughs rising to her feet and holding her hand out for Y/N who instantly took it, letting her lead the way.

A few weeks went by and Y/N suddenly stopped going on runs, visiting her family scattered in other communities, and the worse of all…being too tired to spend time with her niece and nephew…

“Yea think it’s what Glenn had back at the prison?” Daryl frowns watching Rick shrug for the most part. “We have the medicine now unlike when we were stuck in the prison”

“But she ain’t coughing, or coughing up anything really. She’s throwing up and is extremely tired, that’s about it” Michonne chimes in helping Judith down after she finished her breakfast at the kitchen island. “If Siddiq was back home then he could check—-“

“Which I brought back the second Carl radio’d Hilltop” Glenn interrupts the group by entering the Grimes’ residence with the Alexandria doc that Carl saved during the “down period” of the Savior War.

Both Rick and Michonne have Carl a confused look as he came downstairs after giving Y/N another glass of water. He noticed Siddiq’s return and knew that’s what they were staring at him about.

“I lost my mom, I’m not about to lose my aunt too” And that triggered all kinds of thoughts to everyone in the room.

“Lead the way, Carl” Siddiq states in an instant not waiting another moment as the Grimes kid lead the way to where Y/N was staying in their home. They live in one of the town houses on the other side of Alexandria, but the second she got sick, Rick didn’t want her too far from him.

“Could be worse than the prison”

“Or a savior poisoned her”

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted those fucks. Just cuz they killed one of their own that night, doesn’t make it alright to just jail the son of a bitch and let fear course through everybody”

“We get your stance on that. But let’s not to side tracked.” Glenn interrupts once again. “I know we moved a lot of the equipment from the Sanctuary into each of the communities because of what they have taken. But with that knowledge we could look more into it. We don’t have to work blindly”

“I agree with Glenn. Ain’t taking any chances” Rick states only for Carl to sprint down the steps and out the house, on a mission for Siddiq. But the action caused the archer to chase after the damn kid.

Sometimes the Grimes can be dramatic

As Carl rummages through the infirmary with the mental list fresh in his mind, Daryl storms in and grabbed his shoulder so that he could look at him.

“What did Siddiq find?”

“She’s dehydrated? That’s about it” even if he is almost 18, he will never learn how to lie. Especially to Daryl.

“I’ll yell at yea if you don’t tell—-“

“Daryl what even is your relationship with my aunt?!” He snaps back. “Whatever. Siddiq thinks she’s pregnant and since I told yea that. You gotta tell me—-“

“I ain’t sleeping with your aunt” Daryl snaps back and at least the two had their possible answer. But the pressing question in both of their minds…who the fuck is the mystery father if she is? “What does Siddiq need”

“I can’t find the makeshift IV bag. I’ve got a few tests but they all read different things…” Carl shows the boxes to Daryl as he took two away from him tossing them back since they weren’t pregnancy tests but the rest were. Then he reached into the cabinet to get the IV line and the bag along with it.

The two came back and when Carl headed back upstairs, Daryl grabbed his crossbow and headed back out with an even more confused Rick following behind.

“What are yea doing?”

“Going to Carol”

“You can’t—-“

“I ain’t sayin’ shit to her. I gotta ask her something” Daryl didn’t wait for him to say anything more as he went to get on his bike and head out right away.

The second he reached the Kingdom he went looking for Carol to ask about the party they held a few weeks ago. It was one of those parties that Deanna used to hold for new people since the Kingdom took in new folk from the Sanctuary that wanted to get away from that place. He knew Y/N was at it but couldn’t be there himself because he was asked to watch the Sanctuary, which felt more like a punishment.

“Daryl! What are you doing here?!” Ezekiel cheers in his usual excitement but given the archer’s serious expression that he always bears, he knew to tone it down instantly. “You looking for someone?”

“Carol have yea—-“

“She’s in the gardens. Or at least that’s the last I saw her. She could also be with Henry who started teaching some of the younger kids how to fight in what he calls “Morgan’s way” it’s really sweet—-“

“Thanks”

Ezekiel watched him leave and was left even more confused on why he was there. At least Daryl didn’t have to go searching for their kid and found Carol in the first place he told him.

“This is a surprise. How are you pookie?”

“Did yea see who Y/N went to the party with a few weeks back?”

“Where the fuck is this coming from?” Carol set the sharpening block beside her along with her knife to give her best friend her whole attention. “I didn’t even go to the party”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like those kind of things. You know this”

“You were supposed to watch her. We agreed—-“

“Daryl. Everyone agreed on that. For everyone. Not just Y/N. What’s gotten into you?” Carol frowns gesturing for Daryl to sit but instead he started pacing to try and calm himself down.

“I need to know who she left the goddamn party with. Who took her away—“

“No one took her. She wanted it just as much as the guy did. I don’t know who the guy is but she did tell me about the much needed stress relief”

“Yeah well that son of a fucking bitch didn’t wear protection and I need to bash his goddamn teeth in”

The words sunk in almost immediately as Carol rises from where she sat and quickly took Daryl’s arm heading back toward his bike.

“You’re taking me to her, now”

What Daryl didn’t know was the conversation between her and Y/N. And how much more personal it got to be

________

“You look like there’s more on your mind” Carol frowns for a moment as the two were walking to her place in the Kingdom.

“What if the unthinkable happens?”

“I’m sorry?”

Y/N didn’t know how to put the words together as she stops walking only for Carol to grab her shoulders.

“What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything. But what if it happens? I don’t fucking know the guy, and honestly it was just stress relief. I could do perfectly fine without him in my life but the fuck am I supposed to do…if I’m pregnant…”

“Y/N. Didn’t he wear protection?”

“He swore he did! But when does anybody believe a man when they say that?”

“I mean. Ezekiel is—-“

“The most perfect man. But this isn’t about him! You and I both saw what happened when a baby came into this world…I lost my sister in law who was my best friend before my family grew in the new world. But I’m de-railing…what if—-“

“No” Carol shushed her immediately. “If shit happens and you do end up pregnant, we’ll do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen. And you don’t need a partner to raise a baby. You have a family. A village or whatever the cheesy saying is. But it’s true. You have a village and you’ll never be alone. And I know for sure that everyone who loves you, would reassure you every day if they have to”

________

Well. It was positive and Daryl wasn’t the only one angry at the guy about it.

“You motherfucker—-“

“Daryl. Stop it” Y/N shoves the archer back as the man cowered a bit behind her. “This isn’t going to erase what happened”

“Yeah man. Besides it was just uh. A one time deal. She’s the one keeping the damn thing” He shrugs.

“Oh so yea blaming her?” Daryl snaps almost pushing Y/N over as she stumbles which made him quick to change his attention. He caught her and before anymore could be exchanged between those two, Rick cut in shoving Daryl away along with Y/N.

“Listen. She doesn’t need yea. Won’t ever need yea” Rick directs the guy away from his family. “But if I ever hear rumors…that are offensive toward my sister?” He suddenly grabs the man’s collar forcing him to look directly in his eyes. “There’s plenty of us that’ll put yea six feet under”

As Rick stepped away and Daryl gave one last glare before following his brother, Y/N gave the man a what the fuck just happened sort of look before quickly following the two out of the kingdom.

The pregnancy was smooth. Felt like it went by so fast because Y/N was taken care of. Granted there were moments where she snapped at her brother for getting too close after returning from a run involving taking out a few walkers. Same went for Daryl but his was more, he had to shower the second he came back to Alexandria after doing who knows what. Carol visited her every other week and that time gave her some space to come to the decision of marrying Ezekiel which she knew would make Y/N cry the second she told her. The start and finish of the bridge happened around her second trimester and during that time it gave her the excuse to step out of Alexandria to spend time with an overly excited Maggie who would stay with her the entire time they were at the makeshift camp for the communities. Giving her some tips about newborns given she wakes up the most compared to Glenn when it comes to Hershel Jr. Which unintentionally brought the anxiety back of being a single mother and the fear of doing this all alone.

But she was never alone. After getting everything settled in the Sanctuary and Carol taking over for sometime, Daryl moved into the basement living of her place. Carl also found himself spending the night at his aunts during the nights he’d find Y/N taking midnight walks. At least when he’s at Alexandria and not visiting Enid in Hilltop. Other times Rosita and Sasha would spend time with Y/N gossiping about Rosita’s relationship with Siddiq and how Abraham keeps testing Sasha’s patience with their watchtower shifts.

When the date got closer that was when everyone in Alexandria hovered whenever they saw her. Especially the rest of the Grimes family. The only hero was Michonne. She would shoo Rick out whenever his questions toward how Y/N’s feeling got a bit too extreme. He was just worried given what happened to Lori and what else could happen without the help of a fully stocked hospital.

All was fine, when Shepherd Grimes came into this crazy world perfectly fine.

Causing his own kind of chaos.

As the little light comes through to the basement apartment, Daryl didn’t wake to it at first given it was his day off. But Dog wasn’t the one either…the soft tug on his blanket alerted him and the sniffing of his Mal came after. He sat up in his bed seeing the two year old boy smiling up at him.

“Shep. It’s early”

“I’m thirsty Uncle Daryl…” Shepherd rubs his eyes as Dog investigated his action by sniffing, making the little one tiredly giggle.

Daryl sighs tossing the blanket off of him before moving to the edge of the bed to get up. Next picking up Shepherd like it was nothing and making his way to his small kitchen.

“Mama sleepin’?”

“Yeah”

“Why didn’t yea get yer mom?”

“She sleepin’ and Jude says you don’t sleep” The stupid goofy smile the kid had when saying that, Daryl couldn’t get mad at that assumption as he had a few sippy cups down in his kitchen since this isn’t the first time Shepherd came down there. He went on a run with Glenn and Rick to get a lot of baby/kid items from abandoned neighborhoods and stores for not only Shepherd, Hershel, Judith, and Gracie but also the newest addition RJ. Rick Jr. Grimes, son of Rick and Michonne.

“Mama is scary when yea wake her too early anyway” Daryl finishes getting the cap on and handing the cup filled with water to the little one in his arm. “But she’ll scream like a banshee if yea ain’t upstairs”

“What’s a…ba…ban…bunsha”

“Close enough, just a screamin’ creature” Daryl made his way upstairs with the mini Y/N Grimes as he gripped onto his sweater to keep him steady enough to take a sip from his cup. “Yea tired?” He asks the child watching him shake his head which lead to him being set down on the couch in the main house before sitting beside him. “I’ll stick with yea until Y/N wakes up”

Daryl couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest when the small child scooted over to sit beside him and lay against him while drinking his water.

When it got about an hour or two later making it still an early morning but enough for Y/N to wake. She came down from her bedroom still in her pajamas finding both Daryl and Shepherd asleep on the couch. Y/N quietly went to grab her Polaroid camera from her pack and took a quick picture of the two. The flash woke Daryl slightly but he didn’t fully stir until Y/N carefully picked up the sleeping child.

“Go back to sleep” Y/N mouths to the archer before smiling and carrying Shepherd upstairs.

As the day continued on, Rick found himself with his baby strapped to his chest and carrying Shepherd by the back of his overalls. Like luggage if you will. He agreed to watch his nephew while Y/N went to visit Maggie for Hershel hand-me-downs and to go hunting with Carol.

“Uncle Rick?”

“Yeah?”

“Will mama be home before bedtime?”

“Yeah, she reassured me that she would” Rick smiles to the child setting him down on the steps of his place only to be greeted by Michonne.

“Hey buddy” Michonne smiles kneeling down to Shepherd’s level seeing that smile of Y/N reflect in her son’s. “Carl is about to leave to take Enid on a trip and made sandwiches. And I know he made an extra one just for you” she smiles poking his stomach to get a giggle out of him. “How about you go see him?”

The small child ran inside leaving the adults for a moment as Rick couldn’t help but watch his nephew and think about his sister.

“She was just as energetic. Hopefully he doesn’t get her attitude but, he’s perfect”

“She made a perfect child just like we did” Michonne smiles rubbing the small back of the baby that Rick held bounded to him.

•

“How’s Shepherd? I can’t wait to see him when Ezekiel, Henry, and I come over next week” Carol smiles walking beside her best friend.

“I think he prefers waking Daryl up over me. Found them on the couch again” Y/N knelt at their spot watching a rabbit approach one of the snares, making their conversation turn down its volume. “If he had nightmares he’d come to me…but he gets Daryl every other time”

“Your son knows you’re scary to wake up already” Carol couldn’t help the laugh but thankfully the trap caught its catch. “But that boy loves his uncles. Uncle Daryl especially.”

“Very true” Y/N says softly as she got up heading toward the trap to take out the rabbit only to turn around to a mischievous look on Carol’s face. “What?”

“I know he’s 2 and can’t remember where he put his shoes but has he ever asked about his biological father? Big words to him but you get my point”

“No, one of his books has a set of parents in it and he believes he was created with magic inside of me. I’ll take that over a one night stand any day” Y/N uses her foot to open the trap again and quickly retracted to avoid triggering it. “But I can see where this is going…He knows Rick and I are siblings…but uh”

Carol stepped closing with a go on look on her face watching Y/N’s complexion get redder. “Yeah?”

“He probably sees Daryl as a father figure…just doesn’t call him dad. And we…yeah. We. No…”

“Y/N. I know the first few months of having a baby there were emotions flying. But he’s two now and those hormone influenced feelings have simmered a little…but…”

“I don’t want to ruin what’s perfect” Y/N instantly knew what to say and Carol has always been right about Y/N’s feelings toward Daryl, that it makes it complicated in her mind not to tell Daryl given she knows how he feels.

But for the sake of the child, Carol wasn’t going to make things complicated and let Y/N do things her way.

Even if every fiber of her wanted to say something to Daryl about how she felt. But sitting on the picnic bench in the secluded corner of Alexandria watching Daryl play with her son and niece as careful as he could be. Those moments were enough.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction

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rillils · 4 months

Note

i hate my angst loving self so much sometimes

think about a confused and not-entirely-there bucky screaming at steve, asking him why he left him there on the snow, asking why he didnt come back for him, telling him how long he waited for him to come and save him

FINE HONEY, YOU WANTED ANGST, I'LL GIVE YOU ANGST. AND I'LL CRY ABOUT IT 😭

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, tw: suicidal thoughts, very mild gore, nightmares, post-catws, angst is definitely not my thing what am i even doing here asjdhsjdh wordcount: 3815 a side note: while the language here is used in accordance with steve's profound sense of guilt, it doesn't reflect the author's personal beliefs on the matter - aka IT'S NOT HIS FAULT SKDLKS MY POOR BABY 😭😭

It always starts off quiet, like the darkened hall of a theater in the split second between the curtain opening over the stage and the actor’s first line. Silence, please. The show is about to begin.

The scenery changes sometimes, but it’s the mountains Steve sees most often in his dreams: the soulless gray of stone, and the blinding white of snow coating everything, from the peaks, to the valley, to the copse of fir trees, huddled together like children in the cold. Just like he remembers from that day in the Alps. No one knows how to torture him better than his own mind.

The wind rises sharp and icy, lifting sleets of frost with it, and a chill rolls down Steve’s spine. It’s not the cold, though.

It’s fear, congealing like a dead weight in the pit of his stomach. The show is about to begin. And he’s watched it all to the end countless times before.

“Steve?”

His head whips around, and Bucky’s right there, like he always is. A fixed point, unchanged, unmovable, his boots sinking soundlessly in the thick layer of snow beneath them.

He looks so beautiful, so oddly alive against the backdrop of his desolate place; a man at the peak of his youth, the pink of his cheeks nearly glowing next to the deep blue of his uniform, his hair combed to a movie-star shine, parted neatly to the side. It’s cruel, how perfect he is. Preserved like a cherished heirloom in Steve’s mind, never fading, never aging; a living picture, soft and rosy-cheeked. He belongs in a dance hall, in a crowded street, in the cheerful chaos of the fourth of July, in the color and noise of fireworks, in the tangle of ooh’s and aah’s under the firelit sky. He doesn’t belong here. But he’ll never leave this place.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s head tilts to the side, confused. “You left a long time ago.”

“Bucky,” Steve tries to say, but the name dies on his lips.

The light in Bucky’s eyes dulls to a flicker, carrying a heavy gloom over his features. He looks so sad, all of a sudden. He never looked sad when Steve was around, Steve remembers that – and Steve never learned how to make it better.

He can never make this better.

“Steve.” All the color’s draining from his cheeks, quickly, leaving only the paleness of death behind. His eyes – they pierce right through Steve, empty and cold, so cold, and Steve shudders from head to toe.

“I waited for you for so long,” Bucky’s blue lips say, with a mournful lilt Steve used to hear in his mother’s voice when she would sing to him, all those heart-twisting songs about a home she’d never see again. “Where were you?”

Something dark spreads from within across the pristine blue of Bucky’s coat, dripping slowly from his shoulder, black like ink–

blood

– smothering the rich color underneath, reaching down, down–

he fell

– down along Bucky’s arm, until it’s streaking the back of his hand–

blood, it’s blood, he fell, he’s going to fall

– pooling ruby-dark at Bucky’s fingertips.

Soon the drops will spill all over the fresh snow, staining it red, too.

“You left me here.”

Steve can’t breathe.

“Why did you leave me here, Steve?”

Steve can’t breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps, and the next breath stings in his lungs, ice-cold and merciless, “I’m so sorry, Bucky, so sorry. It’s all my fault, all my fault,” he chants, hands clawing at his own chest. But what will it help? He can’t undo this. He can never undo this. “I should have held onto you,” he sobs brokenly, and it’s strange, how he can never tell when he starts crying in his dreams, but he always feels the tears streaming down his face, real as his grief is real, clogging up his throat. “I never should have let you fall.”

Bucky steps forward, dark blood trailing behind him on the ground. Steve’s heart jolts like a spooked horse, pounding loud and fast with adrenaline.

“Why didn’t you look for me?”

He sounds so gentle. So devastatingly sad.

“Did I mean so little to you?”

Steve shakes his head, No, no, no, everything, you meant everything, always, I swear, tears flicking off the edge of his jaw to be lost in the snow-packed wind. “I t-thought you were dead,” he sobs, like he’s still curled up into the blown-up flank of that train, like he’s still got his face pressed to the ice-burn of its metal and praying for everything to end, now, before reality can reshape itself around him and tell him that Bucky is gone forever.

Something mean slithers behind Bucky’s eyes. “And you would have left my body to the wolves?” he says, his voice dangerously sharp over the moaning wind. “You didn’t think I deserved a proper burial?”

It’s snowing on the outside, but it’s inside that Steve feels ice gripping at his guts.

“You could have sent me home to my folks.”

It burns.

“To my sisters.”

It burns so bad, the shame crackling under his skin.

“At least then my family would have had a body to cry over. But it never even occurred to you, did it.”

Steve’s tongue feels glued to the roof of his mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he pushes out uselessly, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve–”

“Or did you think that I was like you?” Bucky presses on, a cruel sneer forming on his white face. “Is that it? You fooled yourself so nice, you really thought I was like you? Like poor little Stevie? With no one left in the world who would miss me? No one who would even care if I was dead or alive?” He pauses, lips curling as though a new and amusing thought only just occurred to him. “Oh. Stevie, no. Did you think you were my whole world? Are you really that pathetic?”

“No,” Steve rasps, swallowing back tears and still drowning, drowning in them, “I never thought, I never– Please, Buck, I’m so sorry–”

Bucky’s silhouette blinks in and out of sight, and when he comes back, one moment later, he’s standing right before Steve, so close he need only reach out to touch him. His sneer is gone, but the depth of hurt in his eyes slices at Steve’s heart just as sharply.

“They took me, Stevie. You left me behind and they took me. Look,” he says, showing Steve the torn flesh where his left arm used to be – it was here just a moment ago, it was, Steve could swear it, it was right here – the bloody pulp of it, a frayed shard of white bone jutting out through the ripped muscle, sickening. His mouth, when Steve can finally look back, is curled back to show his teeth, the smile almost kind if it didn’t feel like a knife tearing at Steve’s own flesh. “This is all your doing. Isn’t it pretty?” Bucky tells him sweetly. “Tell me it’s pretty, Steve. Tell me it’s pretty.”

Without warning, Bucky’s hand darts up to clamp around Steve’s chin, gripping his face viciously. His touch is like ice, searing painfully into Steve’s skin, and Steve staggers in place, helpless but to look right into Bucky’s wide, desperate eyes.

“I was so scared,” Bucky whispers, hot tears spilling over his deathly pale cheeks. “I was locked in that place for so long, I couldn’t tell day from night anymore. It was so cold, and I was so alone, so alone without you, Stevie.”

His fingernails claw into Steve’s skin until they’re drawing blood, and Steve can only sob, can only take it, can only hope this will sate the hollowness he sees in Bucky’s eyes, if only for an instant. But it won’t, he knows it won’t. It never does.

If he could kneel at Bucky’s feet and beg for his forgiveness, keep him warm with the heat of his own tears, wash the blood away–

“I thought I was going to die. Every time they dragged me back to that table, I would tell myself, this is it. This is how it’s going to end,” Bucky tells him gently, nodding his head. “Sometimes, I even thought I should end it myself, before they could. But do you know what the worst part was? I didn’t die. No matter how bad I wanted it, none of the stuff they put me through ever did it. Hope kept me alive,” he snarls, soft through his bloodied smile. “That was my curse. I believed in you. I thought you would find me, save me. I told them you would come for me, and they laughed in my face, Stevie! They knew better.”

The sound that spills from Bucky’s mouth is the twisted, poisoned imitation of a laugh, emptied of all feeling, sharp like fingernails scraped across a blackboard.

“Don’t say that,” Steve whimpers, shaking his head, “please, don’t say that, no.” And he’d cover his ears if he could, lock that ugly truth out of his mind forever, but no muscle in his body will move until Bucky’s done with him.

“Do you know what happened then, Steve? You do know, don’t you?” Bucky asks, thrusting his face into Steve’s until only mere inches separate the tips of their noses – his eyes staring into Steve’s, a creeping echo of insanity gleaming from their depths. “They took my arm first, and then they took everything else.”

Hell. This is Hell.

“Because of you.”

This is what true torment looks like. No fire and brimstone, no howling souls of the damned, no blazing hail raining down upon him.

“It was always because of you.”

Just him and Bucky’s ghost, and a winter that never thaws.

“Bucky...”

The snowstorm rises against him with violence, angry, roaring in Steve’s ears, spreading frost over his chest, his arms, his bare face, freezing the tears caught in his eyelashes. Quiet, it demands. Don’t you speak to me. You have no right to speak to me.

But the yawning hole in Steve’s chest won’t stop screaming at him, starved for forgiveness, for a respite, for a mercy he never earned.

“Please, Buck... please...”

Bucky’s hand guides him down, pushing him to his knees. He crouches over Steve, gaze locked with his, heedless of the blood dripping dark and thick between his fingers; leaning in like he’s about to share a secret.

“I held out until I just couldn’t anymore. I tried to be strong, for you,” Bucky says in a harsh whisper. “But you never came.” His face, twisted by grief, wet with new tears. Steve cups it in his palms, but it’s no use: he can’t soothe this hurt. It’s too late now.

“Bucky, Bucky, sweetheart, forgive me– please, forgive me...”

Bucky’s grip on him relents; his fingers smear red over Steve’s cheek, four bloody streaks, and he strokes his knuckles over them, unbearably gentle.

“I waited for you for so long,” he says, mournful. His face is as cold as ice between Steve’s hands, stinging, burning. “Why didn’t you look for me?”

It hurts, it hurts so bad, so deep inside Steve’s heart.

“Why didn’t you look for me?”

The wind surges up around them, rattling Steve’s bones from within. The snow’s soaking into his pants, swallowing up his knees, colder, colder, the blizzard’s smothering him, blinding him, only Bucky’s eyes bright in his vision, crying, accusing, screaming, screaming, screaming–

“WHY DIDN’T YOU LOOK FOR ME?”

Steve jerked awake in the darkness, gasping for breath, a handful of sheets clutched dangerously tight in his fist. He barely even registered the soft, alarmed noise coming from the other side of the bed.

“Steve? It’s all right, you’re safe now.”

His eyes scoured the dark bedroom frantically, fighting through the chilling veil of ice still creeping at the edge of his vision. His heart hammered loud like thunder in his ears, pulsing so wildly in his throat, he thought for a moment that it would burst out of his body.

“Steve.”

Where was he?

The mountains–

“It was just a dream. You’re safe now, I promise. You’re home.”

His gaze focused on the only source of light: the faint glow filtering in through the blinds, the familiar orange hue of the street lights in their neighborhood, casting a striped pattern on the floor. A rug, there was a rug there – and a pair of slippers flicked just a bit too far from the bed.

“Come back to me, baby.”

The crumpled lumps of two discarded socks, that never made it to the hamper – oh, Bucky hated it when he did that.

“Sweetheart, can you look at me?”

A flicker of white–

– snow–

– Alpine, uncurling from her favorite spot and slipping soundlessly out of the room.

“Can you look at me? Steve.”

He turned his head towards the sound, staring wide-eyed into the shadows until finally, the outline of Bucky’s body emerged, sitting only an arm’s length away from him.

“That’s it, that’s good, Stevie.”

There was kindness in his voice, but his brow was creased with worry. His torso was half-twisted towards Steve, his body poised as though ready to reach out for him, but Bucky hadn’t touched him yet. Good, that was good. No. It hurt. That hurt.

Steve swallowed.

“Breathe with me, sweetheart. Can you do that? For me? Slow and easy, c’mon, with me.”

It was only then that Steve became aware of his own heavy breaths, the harsh sound of which filled up the room, gasp after gasp. He let go of the sheets and lay his hand on his own chest, where he could feel his pounding heartbeat, and tried to match Bucky’s calm, measured breathing as best as he could. He thought he was going to throw up.

“That’s it, just like that,” Bucky encouraged him.

Bucky–

Something flashed before Steve’s eyes; a fragment of a pale white face, with sneering lips and blood-stained teeth, taunting him with its cruel laughter.

You left me behind and they took me.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It was just a dream, it wasn’t real.”

Bucky shifted minutely on the bed, and a fleck of light caught the metal plates of his arm, a silver gleam darting quickly in the night.

Steve’s chin trembled. His throat closed up.

They took my arm first, and then they took everything else.

The tears came back before he could stop them, gathering hotly behind his eyes, pressing urgently to spill over.

“Bucky,” he choked out, and in the next moment he was crawling into Bucky’s open arms, curling his shaking body into Bucky’s sturdy frame. Bucky cradled him close, rubbing a soothing hand between Steve’s shoulder blades as Steve sobbed freely, pouring all of his anguish in the crook of Bucky’s neck.

“W-when you fell,” Steve stammered pitifully, clutching at the back of Bucky’s t-shirt with the desperation of a drowning man, “I should have come looking for you, I should’ve been there, should’ve– should’ve brought you back, I–”

“No, no, Steve,” Bucky rumbled, rocking him gently in his arms, “don’t do this to yourself. Please, baby, I’m begging you.”

Steve shook his head no, hiding himself deeper into the nook offered by Bucky’s neck, just beneath the hinge of his jaw. His chest felt too tight, too full – like a balloon filled with water and straining to contain it, the paper-thin skin tense to the point of bursting.

“I should have come for you, they – they never would have taken you, I wouldn’t have let them,” he stumbled on helplessly, “I would have died first! God, I would’ve... I would have died first, I swear, Buck, I swear...”

Bucky stroked his hand over Steve’s hair, kissing the spot above the shell of his ear, dark with cold sweat. Steve felt the dampness of it across his whole body, under the clinging cotton of his pyjamas, the unpleasant moisture cooling on his skin and leaving him to shudder in Bucky’s embrace.

“Look at me,” Bucky called softly. It was a simple request, laced with just the same gentleness Bucky would use sometimes to coax Alpine into his arms, but still Steve felt panic pool in his stomach.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to look Bucky in the eye, not like this. Not when the truth – Because of you. It was always because of you. – was out at last.

What a scam he was. A whole lifetime spent preaching bravery, and the one time it truly mattered, he couldn’t even be brave enough to face the consequences of his own mistakes.

Please, don’t hate me, he sobbed silently against Bucky’s neck. You should. You have every right to. But please... please...

“Sweetheart, please, look at me.”

It took more strength than Steve had ever even known he possessed, but slowly, hesitantly, he let himself be pulled out of his hiding spot, and lifted his gaze to meet Bucky’s, if only for a fleeting moment.

Bucky’s flesh hand reached up to cup his jaw, working his thumb tenderly over Steve’s skin to wipe his tears away – a sweet, but fruitless endeavor, as more salty tears rolled down Steve’s cheeks, relentless.

“The truth is, neither of us could have known I would survive that fall,” Bucky said.

Steve shook his head, his eyes screwed shut against the flood of fresh tears. “I should’ve tried anyway, I should have come to you. I should have been there with you.”

Bucky grasped him by the arms, barely squeezing at all. The force wasn’t in his touch; it was in his voice, quiet to match the nighttime gloom, but firm nonetheless.

“What if they had taken you, too? What if they’d made you like me, what then?” he said, an edge of desperation coloring his voice, as if he couldn’t bear the very thought. “Do you think you could have lived with yourself, if you’d woken up one day to find that you had the blood of innocents on your hands?”

Steve’s head snapped up then, heat flashing fiercely in his chest. “What would I have cared, when you were there with me!” he cried out, panting heavily in the wake of that outburst.

Perhaps he couldn’t call this bravery; but when Steve could breathe again, their eyes finally met again.

If he’d feared he would see hate, or disdain, or resentment looking back at him, he didn’t find any of those. What he did find instead, staring at him from Bucky’s ever-familiar face, was the stubborn mark of love, shimmering brightly in Bucky’s eyes.

“Of course you would have cared,” Bucky whispered fiercely, cradling Steve’s face in both of his hands. “It would have killed you, and it would have killed me too. I could have never, ever forgiven myself, if they’d gotten their filthy hands on you because of me.”

His voice wavered, heavy with the weight of unshed tears. Steve could see the glossy sheen of them, threatening to spill over Bucky’s cheeks any second now, and felt his own heart split in two at the sight.

“Bucky,” he rasped, wetly, clasping Bucky’s wrists with his own hands to hold onto them, turning his face into those beloved palms to kiss them helplessly, one and then the other. Bucky never stopped holding him.

“Listen to me,” he said urgently, “listen to me now. We can’t change the past. We can’t, Steve.” A new sob ripped itself painfully from Steve’s throat, one he couldn’t have helped if he wanted to. “We can’t. It’s done, it’s there, we can’t take it back. And God, do I wish we could, believe me. But I want you to hear me when I say this: I am so grateful for what we have now. In the present. Our present.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath that rippled through his whole frame, as he openly struggled to keep his words clear and his voice steady. He was always the braver one, Steve thought, thrusting one of his hands out to grab a fistful of Bucky’s t-shirt, right over his breastbone.

“Steve. God, could you have ever dreamed that we could have this? I never even dared to hope for something like it, not even on my best days.”

He paused. Steve clung to him, his chest tight with emotion.

“The way we got here... Would I have chosen that? If I’d been given a choice, would I have wanted it to happen like that? No, of course not,” Bucky continued. “But if you asked me now, would I do it all over again, just for a chance to be here with you? I would say yes.” Steve whimpered, shaking his head, tears rolling down his face; but Bucky held him firmly, looking him right in the eye and nodding just as stubbornly, a watery smile on his lips. “Yes, Steve. Yes. A million times yes.”

He broke at last, and Steve lost what little control he had of himself. He tugged Bucky forward by his shirt and threw his arms around him, crushing their bodies together as if his life depended on it. Bucky returned the embrace with that same urgency, holding him tight as Steve muffled his sobs against Bucky’s shoulder, and buried his face in Steve’s hair in return.

The pinprick-like sensation of Bucky’s tears wetting his skin, as Bucky trembled quietly against him, felt like a bruise to Steve’s naked heart.

“Forgive me,” he begged, and he couldn’t have said what it was that he was seeking forgiveness for: if the pain he had caused Bucky now, or the one he couldn’t prevent so long ago.

“There is nothing to forgive,” Bucky murmured in his ear, his voice thick. “But I’ll say it, if you need to hear it.”

“Please,” Steve whimpered.

Bucky hugged him impossibly closer. “I forgive you. Always, sweetheart.”

The tightness within Steve’s chest unraveled, and in that moment, he breathed anew. Relief washed over him – and he cried, and cried, like a person cries when they’re gifted with kindness for the first time in a very, very long time, he cried until he thought he’d exhausted all his tears.

Bucky laid them both back against his pillow, chest to chest, shushing Steve’s hiccupping breaths with whispers of sweet nothings, never once letting him go.

“All that’s left to do now,” he said softly then, pressing a kiss to Steve’s brow, “is for you to forgive yourself.”

Steve burrowed deeper into his warmth, spent.

It would take a long time for that, and a tough, strenuous walk on the tortuous path towards that healing place. In the meantime, though, he could wrap himself into the safety of Bucky’s arms, and slip into a dreamless sleep for once.

#stucky just stucky #stucky #stevebucky #rillers scribbles #I KNOW HONEY #THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU WERE GOING FOR BUT I JUST HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM #I SHOULD NEVER BE ALLOWED TO TOUCH ANGST I'M OUT OF MY DEPTH AGSDJAHDKAJSJDLASKDJ #give me fluff please 😭😭#i need cuddles and smooches for my babies 😭😭#oh my god i cannot #*lies on the floor*#ALSO HONEY I LOVE YOU I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GREAT DAY <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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