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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

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Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?

(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)

I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️

Ghost x FVirgin!Reader Word count: 2,9 k Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down.

A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet. This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust. I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me. I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further. Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘

Simon Riley was a one of a kind man.

He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him.

Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.

Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.

And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.

Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him.

After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.

A bedrock.

With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.

After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.

In real life, things were not that breezy.

Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two?

What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth?

It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.

He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.

Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.

And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was.

He felt safe.

In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects.

Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?

You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth?

Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone.

Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm.

Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.

Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside.

. . .

Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.

The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.

"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy.

You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck.

"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.

"Don't be. This has been fun."

He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest.

"But it's about time I torture you, right?"

Oh God…

Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.

He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.

He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant.

His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.

The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.

"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.

"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.

"You afraid…?"

"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.

"Mm. That makes two of us."

He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient.

Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy.

He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.

"Alright… Come here."

He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide.

The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding.

You feel both lost and found with him. In him.

He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.

Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.

"Simon…?"

"Mm-hm?"

He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.

"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.

Great…

Here comes the awkward.

He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.

"Is that so?"

His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.

"Yes…?"

A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch.

"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"

Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.

He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower.

He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.

"Sweetheart."

His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…

"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.

"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.

"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."

You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.

He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.

"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.

I want you.

You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.

"You want it?"

"Yes."

That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

“You want it with me?”

“Yes.”

"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.

"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.

"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."

Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear.

His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.

"Oh–"

He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.

"You like that?"

"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.

"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."

You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.

"Simon?"

"Speak your mind, love."

"Are you disappointed…?"

He stops again, a breath away from you.

"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"

He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.

"Love, I'm honored."

You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.

"Silly little thing…"

It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.

You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.

"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."

The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…

"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"

The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside.

Oh God oh God–

You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.

"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"

You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen.

"Yes."

#ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #ghost fluff #is this too soft?#is there such a thing as too soft #omg I think I'm part of the Ghost babygirl crew now #i accept my fate #also no beta we die like men

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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months

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Home is where you are | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> When you hear someone talking about Bucky you offer them your help to find him.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.773

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (T) Bit of violence (punches)

𝐀/𝐍 -> Co-Written with my best friend @imtryingbuck. Thank you so much for listening to my complaining and to write this together with me.❤️❤️

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | April 3 | Theme: Cap Quartet | Washington DC, Uniform, Found Family, favorite duo | @catws-anniversary

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You didn’t mean to listen in to the conversation that was going on just to your left but you didn’t have anything better to do then just to sit there with cuffs on your wrist. Sitting in the uncomfortable chair in the hallway of the local police station wasn’t something you were planning on doing on a Friday night but the man who wouldn’t leave you alone as you walked down the street deserved to have his head knocked into the wall.

“He isn’t-“ the blond man started but got cut off by the woman he was standing with.

“Whether you knew him before he’s still the Winter Solider and we need to stop him!”

“We haven’t heard anything about him since we last fought-“

“Regardless, he still needs to be stopped”

“Bucky isn’t a bad person, I know him!”

Hearing that name your head turned to face the three people standing there, the blond man stood tall with his arms crossed over his broad chest, the red headed woman stood in a similar stance whilst the black haired man leant against the wall with his hand in a crisp packet.

“What are staring at?” The woman snapped at you.

“Come here.” You said to the blond, who looked at the two people he was with furrowing his eyebrow he made his way over to you.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes and I can help you. Bucky? I know him.”

“Steve come on we can’t trust her, she’s literally in cuffs” the woman said again.

“Blue eyes, brown hair, dimple chin, silver arm? Yeah I know him.” This Steve guy stood up straighter as you described the man in question, his eyes slanted as he looked you up and down.

“How do you know him?”

“He saved my life.” You shrugged, turning to the redhead “he isn’t a bad person, a bit weird but not bad.” Turning your head back to the blond you smiled up at him. “Steve Rogers, good ole Captain America, you know Bucky has a photo of you in a little book of his?”

“H-how?”

“Took him to the Smithsonian to help him remember, saw photos of you and took one with him”

“Where is he?” Steve asks.

“Who are you?” The other man asks, finally speaking up.

“I’m not going to tell you unless you help me, and I’m Y/n.”

“She’s full of it Steve, we can’t trust her!”

“You are so snappy Miss Romanoff, yeah I know who you are. I can’t be giving my secrets away for free now can I?”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to tell the nice police officers that I didn’t do anything and that I’m an absolute angel” you smiled up at him. Steve thought over what you wanted before nodding and going over to the desk. Whatever he had said to them worked because the officer who had the pleasure of shoving you into a wall and put the cuffs on you very tightly came over and let you go.

Steve grabbed ahold of your arm and dragged you out of the station, putting you in the car and made the other man drive. “What was she arrested for?” Sam asked.

“Assault”

“I barely touched him.” You huffed.

“You cracked his skull open.”

Steve told Sam to pull up at the motel, there they could get some rest and then go to rescue Bucky. You went to the bathroom but not before Natasha checked it out to make sure you couldn’t escape first.

“She’s been in there for ages now.” Sam noticed.

Natasha knocked on the door to check on you, when not getting a response back she kicked in the door. “Shit! Shit!”

“What? God damnit!” Steve saw the window open and couldn’t see you.

All three left the room to go looking for you, they saw you running down the street, Steve ran after you whilst Nat and Sam got in the car.

“Leave me alone! God why are you so fast?” You screamed.

“Just stop!”

“No!”

The car you were in not long ago came speeding past you and cut you off, Sam and Nat jumped straight out as you tried to run past them. You felt a hand on your arm so you stopped, turning around and ducked when Natasha threw a punch to your face. You threw a punch back and began fighting with the black widow. Both of the men stopped dead in their tracks at seeing how Nat was losing against you.

“Stop. Y/n stop it!” Steve shouted.

“Tell her to stop!” He does, the redhead listened and began to take a step back. “I’m-god I’m so unhealthy-I’m not taking you to him!”

“But you said you would?”

“I don’t trust you. Your going to hurt him and I-I can’t let that happen”

“I’m not going to hurt him, I swear. He’s my best friend.”

“Y-you work for SHIELD. They will hurt him.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt him. You have my word”

“He gets hurt and I’ll haunt you down!” Steve nods and promises you that you have his word. You nod back and sigh before lying down on the ground exhausted from the chase and fighting against the black widow.

Sitting in the back of the car the next morning, Steve kept his eye on you as you stared at Nat through the mirror. “You said that Bucky saved you? How?”

“I was at the base they kept him at, he got sent on a mission and when he came back he got me out of my cell. We’ve been on the run ever since.”

After telling him a bit more about you and Bucky, Natasha nodded, while Steve’s eyes were still on you. You had his full attention; he wanted to know all about his friend.

"So, where are we going?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“Smithsonian.”

“A museum?”

“Yeah. We have met there often; he wasn’t there the last time, but maybe now,” you explained.

Steve is the only one who really looked like he trusted you, while Sam and Natasha weren’t pretty sure if they could trust you. But you were mostly focused on how to react when you see Bucky; you have told him about your feelings for him, just like he did. You were dating, but then you needed to escape, and Bucky told you to stay in the apartment he brought. After that, you met a few times at the Smithsonian.

When they parked the car, you immediately got out of it, wanting to rush into it, but Natasha stopped you by holding your arm and pushing you against the car. You gasped, and when Steve stood next to you too, she let go of your arm.

“Don’t dare to run away,” she says.

You rolled your eyes, pushing her softly away, and made your way together with them to the entrance of the Smithsonian.

“You three know that everyone recognizes you even when you wear those caps?”

Natasha ignored you while Sam sighed, and Steve placed his hand around your shoulders.

“Surprisingly, they don’t,” he smirked.

Together, you entered the museum, and no one recognized the other three. You made your way to the place you always met Bucky; it’s a bit hidden behind some of the uniforms the group Steve led wore.

“That was your outfit? Looks like leggings,” Sam laughs and points at Steve’s outfit.

You walked a few steps further when Steve tapped your shoulder, and you turned toward him. Narrowing, while he just put his finger on his lips and shoved you behind him. You saw a man with long brown hair, his metal arm glistening in the slight light of the room, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. But Steve showed you to stay in place so he could talk to the man standing just a few meters away.

“Buck?” He asked, walking closer, and the other man turned around.

Bucky’s eyes widened, his jaw dropped slightly, and he prepared himself to push the other man away and get out of the building.

“S— Steve?”

“Hi, pal. Please, we can help you escape Hydra.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, unsure if he could trust Steve, but he nodded. Steve walked slowly closer to his friend, until he reached him and smirked at the brown-haired one.

“Two of my friends are here too, and we brought someone who really wants to see you,” Steve told Bucky.

When Sam and Natasha let you walk closer to them, Bucky immediately recognized your form behind his friend. His eyes widened, and a beautiful smile appeared on his lips. You walked toward him, placing your arms around his neck, and you pressed yourself tight against him. Bucky’s arms were wrapped around your body the moment you reached him, his face buried in the crock of your neck while he inhaled deeply.

“My doll,” he mumbled, pushing you softly away.

He captured your cheeks with his big hands, his thumbs wiping your tears away — those you never knew were rolling down your cheeks. The relief that you felt when you saw the men you loved, that you could just wrap your arms around him, and that you didn’t see any injuries on his body. Bucky leaned closer, looking deeply into your eyes, before he closed his beautiful blue ones and pressed his soft, plumb lips on yours. The kiss was breathtaking; your knees went weak, and you grabbed his arms tightly. He deepened the kiss, sighing softly before he pulled away. Bucky smiled at you; his blue eyes lit up when he saw the same big smile on your pretty lips and the way you looked at him with nothing but pure love.

“I love you so much, doll.”

“I love you, too.”

Steve smirked, while Sam looked at Natasha with an amused face because she was the whole time looking at Steve.

“You should ask him out,” he said.

Then their gazes went back to you; you’re still smirking at one another. You trailed your fingers through Bucky’s soft brown hair, and he had his hand still on your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours once again.

"Bucky, let’s go home, yeah?”

“B— But I am.”

“In the Smithsonian?”

“No,” he chuckles, looking directly into your eyes. “In your arms, my doll, he said, and you blushed.

But he was right. Home isn’t a house; home is the place you are with the people you love the most. People make a house feel like home, and Bucky is doing that. He makes everything feel like home as long as you’re together.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden

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eddies-ashtray · 11 months

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Okay but: Eddie and fem!reader. Maybe they’re lab partners or friends or something, and Eddie has had a crush on reader FOREVER, so long that he’s just about given up on it being reciprocated. Like “I’ve come to terms with it, I’ll just pine from afar forever.” But one day reader just flat out says she likes him, or like “are you ever going to ask me out or????” and he is just absolutely floored.

Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you like what I came up with!

(Content: Lots of oblivious Eddie, a splash of oblivious reader, childhood bullying, pining Eddie, vague references to biology shit I know nothing about (sincerely, a humanities major), & a completely unnecessary backstory).

WC: 2.2k

♡*♡*♡

Eddie hadn’t always lived in Hawkins, Indiana with uncle Wayne. For his first few years, he lived with his mother and father in the city of Indianapolis. Then, when his mother passed away when Eddie was seven, and his father could no longer afford to live where they had always lived, they moved back to his fathers hometown of Hawkins.

Eddie knew right away he disliked being the new kid at Hawkins Elementary. He knew no one and no one knew him, but they all knew each other. He felt like a zoo animal; something foreign and strange for the other kids to gawk at from a safe distance, but never someone to approach, never someone to play with at recess. He was ignored and simultaneously singled out and picked on constantly.

One chilly October morning at first recess when the leaves had just begun to turn, Eddie perched on the swing in the playground, once again alone. As he stared into the damp sand beneath him, the grating sound of a familiar voice shouting took him off guard.

Instinctively, he looked up, small hands clutching the cool chain links of the swing and watched as Andy approached. He felt his stomach drop like it had when his mom took him to the fair and let him ride the kiddie coaster when he was five.

“Get off the swing, it’s my turn now,” demanded Andy when he stopped in front of Eddie on the swing.

“But…there are other swings,” Eddie said meekly, pointing to the other three swings to his left, gently swaying in the breeze.

“Yeah, but you’re on my swing!” Andy argued.

Eddie felt something else bubbling up inside him, different from the usual humiliation he felt when confronted with Andy or any of the others who saw him as an easy target. Something that quickened his breath and made his fists tighten on the chains.

“It’s not your swing!” Eddie argued back. This was the first time he had ever done so in his weeks at his new school.

As soon as he’d said it, as soon as he’d let the anger bubble over, he regretted it. Because Andy took two steps forward and before Eddie could even process what was happening, Andy shoved Eddie off the swing.

He fell into the sand with a thud, a dull ache immediately throbbing on his tailbone. And though he’d had worse injuries and the soft sand helped to break his fall, he still felt hot tears brim in his eyes and his bottom lip wobble as Andy cackled cruelly and took his seat on his swing.

But before the tears could spill over and cause him further humiliation, a small hand came into view, one outstretched to him where he lay in the sand. The hand was attached to an arm, a body, a face which he had never seen before. This girl was not in his class, though she looked to be about his age.

Eddie didn’t trust the hand, worried this was going to be another cruel joke. So he continued to lay in the sand, unmoving.

“C’mon, let’s go play over there,” she said, looking back at the play structure with the rusted monkey bars and silver metal slide.

And because she just seemed like she wanted someone to play with, Eddie decided to trust her. So, he took her hand and she helped him up, both of them grunting with the effort of it.

“I’m Y/N, what’s your name?” The girl said as they walked away from the swings.

“Eddie,” He sniffled.

And, so, ever since you had shown him that small kindness, Eddie had been quite enamoured with you. Though you had not become close friends after that day, Eddie remained grateful for what you had done for him. You had shown him that he wasn’t alone and that people could be kind.

Eventually, he found his people, but you always had a special place in his heart.

***

About a decade later, Eddie finally, miraculously, gets paired with you in biology. After all these years of admiring from afar and (as much as he hates to admit it) pining after you, he finally had an excuse to talk to you, to get to know the very first person in Hawkins to ever show him kindness.

“Hey, did you want to come over after school so we can finish filling out this worksheet? I know it’s not due until the end of next week, but if we get this done today, we can get to work on the final assignment,” You say, absentmindedly shuffling through weeks of notes and worksheets.

But Eddie doesn’t hear what you’re saying despite the fact that his eyes are on you. That’s the problem, really. Of course, he loves the sound of your voice, is eager to listen to anything you have to say, thinks he could listen to you talk about all the different shades of white in the colour spectrum or the different types of bricks that there are for hours on end.

But today, you wore a new lip gloss that made it nearly impossible for Eddie to focus on anything but the shiny pout of your lips.

Finally, you look up from your assorted papers, your pretty eyes (God, you have such pretty eyes) connecting with his.

“Eddie? You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. Totally…What were you saying?” He asks, head dipping lower so he can hear you over the din of the busy classroom.

You lean in slightly, unconsciously, before you repeat yourself, and he can feel your soft breath on his skin. Eddie forces himself to suppress a shiver as goosebumps raise on his forearms.

Yes, yes, he knows he’s pathetic; nearly sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your breath on his skin. But inevitably, his feelings for you have only grown stronger since you became lab partners at the start of the term. But he doesn’t want to screw this up. And he has to admit, he feels silly for pining after you all these years, so he doesn’t want to confess his feelings, especially when he can’t be sure that you feel the same. He couldn’t face that all too familiar feeling of humiliation if you rejected him–which, in all honesty, he feels is fairly likely; you’re his polar opposite, you would look ridiculous together.

So, he’s trying to convince himself he’s okay with just being friends.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Eddie agrees to your plans.

He inhales the scent of your strawberry shampoo as you shift away and neatly stack your papers together.

Clearly, he is not.

***

Somehow, Eddie has the great misfortune (and pleasure) of ending up doing your shared homework in your bedroom. He must be in hell. More to his true feelings though, he must be in heaven.

He had assumed you would sit down at the kitchen table and get to work, but when Eddie began wandering in the direction of your kitchen, you called out to him.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh,” Eddie says, turning to see you halfway up the shag carpet stairs. “I just thought we’d be working in the kitchen.”

“My bedroom is better. C’mon,” You say, turning and continuing your trek up the stairs. And what can he do but follow?

But Eddie can’t imagine what you’d meant when you said your bedroom was ‘better’. Is sitting on your bed, your bare right thigh grazing his denim clad left one, better than sitting on separate chairs in your kitchen? In some ways (in fact, in many ways), this is definitely better. But it is definitely not better for his concentration. Or his sanity.

“So, this one here,” You say, your shoulders brushing as you lean over his lap to point at the diagram on his worksheet. “Is the superior articular process, and this one is the inferior articular process.”

Eddie might pass out.

He watches you as you scribble the words onto your worksheet in small print and proceeds to inscribe the same words onto his worksheet in the same place.

He suffers through the afternoon, surrounded by artifacts of your life, dying to pick up every last trinket on your dresser and request a detailed history of the object, dying to unpin the photographs from your cork board and examine every last square inch of the image. He resists the urge to lean even further into you or to rest his head on your shoulder when he gets bored. He stops himself from staring as you pick out a cassette and begin swaying to the music as it croons from your cassette player.

After all that suppressing and resisting, you finally conclude, “Alright, I guess we’re done.”

And Eddie swears that despite your chipper tone, your satisfaction with finishing the homework, there’s a hint of something else. Something akin to disappointment. But he couldn’t imagine why.

He ignores it as he packs up his things, shoves his pens and his doodle-cluttered papers into his backpack. He ignores it as you walk down the stairs together. He ignores it as he laces his boots up. He ignores it as you open the door for him. And he ignores it as he says goodbye to you and walks out your front door.

He only gets halfway down your driveway before he stops in his tracks at the sound of your voice.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Eddie!” You shout. You don’t quite sound angry, more fondly exasperated than anything.

This, he cannot ignore.

He spins around on his heels.

You’re strolling down your driveway towards him with determination.

You’re stopping in front of him, looking up at him, hands on your hips like you're about to admonish him for tracking mud in the house.

He blinks. Once. Twice. Still not getting it as you stand in front of him in your frilly white socks without shoes.

“Were you ever going to ask me?” You wonder genuinely, eyes searching his for answers he isn’t giving you.

“Ask you what?” Eddie replies, genuinely perplexed.

A soft smile creeps onto your face, like a reassuring realization is coming to you.

“You really don’t know?” You ask softly.

Eddie shakes his head. You look down at your socks for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“I wanted you to ask me out. Y’know…on a date?” You explain, swaying nervously, hands held sweetly behind your back.

Eddie’s lips part gently in shock, all his synapses firing at once. He cannot comprehend that his childhood crush–this girl who he’s been absolutely smitten with since he was seven–has just confirmed that she feels about him the same way he feels about her.

“Eddie? You alright?” You ask, reaching out to place your hand on his bicep. He hadn’t known he needed steadying until your hand met his skin.

With that touch, a sudden surge of confidence rises within him.

His dimples pop into his cheeks as he grins. It’s not self-satisfied or cocky. How could it be? He never would have thought she would want to go out with him.

His heart pounds against his chest as he says sincerely, “Just give me a time and place and I’ll be there.”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be oblivious.

“For our date,” Eddie replies simply, like he isn’t about to pass out asking the prettiest girl he’s ever seen on a date.

For a moment, your eyes light up and then an embarrassed smile spreads across your face before you bury your face in your hands. Then they slide around to frame your face and you look up at him, clearly embarrassed about your lack of understanding.

Nonetheless, you reply, “Friday, 7PM? Pick me up here? I don’t really care what we do, I-”

But you don’t complete the sentence. Instead, you glance at your socks again.

“You what?” Eddie wonders, dying to hear what you have to say.

You meet his gaze again. “I just wanna see you.”

Butterflies erupt in his belly. But he tries his best to keep his cool, to not squeal like a schoolgirl right now. That, he can save for later when you’re not standing in front of him, eyes shining in the setting sunlight.

For now, Eddie gasps in faux flattery (though he really is quite flattered) and proceeds to fan himself with his hand, like a demure princess. “Well!”

“Oh, shut up,” You say, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I had us doing homework in my bed and you still didn’t get it!”

Eddie laughs softly at your willingness to tease him back and his face flushes at the reminder of his obliviousness.

“In my defence, that’s pretty damn subtle,” Eddie quips and you roll your eyes fondly.

“Just pick me up on Friday, you idiot!” You shout as you begin making your way back towards your house.

“See you Friday,” Eddie confirms, shouldering his backpack as he watches you walk back inside and he starts slowly walking backwards down your driveway. He’s still watching before you shut the door, nearly in disbelief that any of this actually just happened, that you’re even real.

You wave as he reaches the end of your driveway. He waves back.

Eddie starts planning your date on his walk home and by the time he gets back to the trailer, he knows exactly what you’re going to do this Friday.

♡*♡*♡

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joelsgreys · 11 months

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to hell and back l two

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l main masterlist l next chapter

summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. canon violence, canon language, reader has a flashback, mentions of slavers, implied threat of assault, guns, reader gets groped, reader has a panic attack, a lot of angst, trauma. soft Joel, protective Joel, and i even threw in some domestic Joel because just imagine that old man making you a nice lil late night snack. 🥹 i think i got most of the major warnings out of the way, i’m sorry if i missed anything!

Word Count: 8.7k

Smoke was coming off my jacket

and you didn’t seem to mind

I left a long trail of ashes and

you said, I like your style

California l Spring, 2023

Your hand trembled slightly as you gripped your pistol and aimed it at his chest.

You’d never pointed your gun at another human being before. At least not one that was still alive.

“Hey now, it’s alright. You can trust us.”

Anxiously, you glimpsed from the man who had just spoken to the woman who stood beside him.

Surely the two had to be related. Both possessed the same fiery red hair, a face full of freckles, and vivid green eyes. They stood before you with their weapons lowered in an attempt to show you that they weren’t a threat to your safety.

The man, who had to be in his mid to late thirties, moved to step forward, but halted in his tracks when he caught sight of the way your finger had twitched over the trigger. “My name is Mark,” he said, carefully gesturing to himself with his free hand. In his opposite hand, he clutched his rifle, an assault style weapon that made your gun look like a fucking toy in comparison. Still, it was you who had the upper hand, at least for now. “This here is my sister. Her name is Jessa.” He paused and when you said nothing, he asked, “Can you tell us your name?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you shook your head at him in response.

You didn’t trust them.

Not quite yet.

Jessa, who was younger and looked to be closer to your own age, offered you a kind smile. “That’s alright. You don’t have to tell us your name until you feel comfortable.” She took a look around at the small, makeshift camp that you had made for yourself. “Are you all by yourself, sweets?”

You quickly wracked your brain.

“No,” You fibbed. “I’m with my father. He should be back any minute now. He’s armed and he does not take all too kindly to strangers, so you’d best be on your way before he sees you.” You added in a steadier tone, “He won’t even think twice. He’ll just kill you on the spot, so you better leave right now. Or else.”

Amused, Mark let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, come on now, dollface. You don’t have to lie to us,” he stated, shaking his head. “Let’s try this again and let’s be honest this time, alright? How long have you been alone?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed harshly.

Fuck.

He had seen right through the bullshit threat.

“For about three or four days now,” You admitted, your shoulders sagging in defeat. “I was with my father and my sister. The three of us were on our way up north. We were trying to get to Seattle to the quarantine zone, but then they were—”

You suddenly stopped.

It felt like someone had driven their fist right into your gut, knocking all the wind out of your lungs and hindering your ability to speak.

You couldn’t even say it out loud.

Gruesome images of them being torn apart limb from limb flashed through your mind. Bile slowly started climbing its way up your throat and your stomach churned violently.

You were going to be sick.

“Are they both dead?” Mark questioned you.

You nodded, whispering shakily, “Yes.”

Jessa frowned. “I’m so sorry for your loss, honey. If it’s any consolation, me and Mark know exactly how it feels. We lost our entire family about three years ago. It’s the hardest thing we’ve ever been through.” Swinging back her own rifle behind her, she approached you and reached out, placing her hand over yours—the one that was still clutching your weapon. She didn’t even so much as flinch at the way the barrel was now pointed at her, how it was just an inch or two away from her chest. It didn’t seem to faze her that all it would take was you bringing your index finger down a bit harder on the trigger and she would be dead. “We know you must be fucking terrified, but it’s okay. You can trust us. We’re good, honest people and we just want to help you. But we can’t do that if you try and kill us, now can we?”

Slowly, Jessa guided you to lower your gun. She then looked over her shoulder, exchanging a look with her brother, as if asking him to back her up.

“Yeah. She’s right. We just want to help you,” he repeated after her. “We aren’t going to hurt you. If we wanted to, we probably would have by now, don’t you think so?”

You let out a tiny breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding and loosened your iron grip on your pistol.

He did make a fair point.

Now that your gun was pointed at the ground, he could have easily killed you. And yet, he’d made no move to blow your fucking head off.

Maybe they really were good people.

But what if they weren’t?

What if it was just a trap?

You didn’t know what to fucking think.

All you knew was that you were so helplessly lost now that your family was gone.

You were afraid.

Alone.

Jessa turned back to you. “Listen, we’re part of a settlement,” she informed you. “It’s not all too far from here, maybe six or seven miles tops. We’ve got a really big group of people and we’re always looking to bring in anyone in need. Come with us, sweets. There’s plenty of food, water, and we can you into some fresh, clean clothes too. How does that sound?”

You momentarily hesitated, still unsure whether or not you could trust the two strangers.

How did it sound?

It sounded too fucking good to be true.

“It’s a safe place,” Mark assured you from behind her. He could see the reluctance written all over your face.

“It’s as safe as safe can be,” Jessa promised. She touched your arm and flashed you another smile, one that was more kind than the first—one that was so comforting it made you feel like you could actually trust her. “So? What do you say? Will you come back with us? Will you let us help you?”

You nervously bit the inside of your cheek.

Scared, starving, and exhausted, their offer for a safe haven was much too tempting to decline.

Besides, how long could you possibly survive out here all on your own?

“Alright,” You finally agreed after a moment. “I’ll come with you.”

“There’s just one condition,” Mark stated, falling into step beside his sister in front of you. “We’re going to need you to hand over your weapon.”

“What?” You stared at him. “Why?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s protocol,” he said, waving a hand dismissively at you. “It’s purely for safety reasons. Anyone who comes into our group must surrender their weapons. We want to be sure that we’re bringing in someone who isn’t going to be a threat to our people. We have children, so we just want to be cautious, you know?”

“I guess that does makes sense,” You admitted.

“You’ll get it back,” Jessa reassured you. “Once you speak to the council and they determine you aren’t a threat, you’ll get your gun back. Okay?”

Left with very little choice, you agreed. “Okay.”

Mark held out his hand for the weapon.

Slowly, you placed your pistol in his open palm.

“Perfect.” Jessa chirped. “Now grab your things and let’s get going. If we hurry up, we can make it back before nightfall.”

Nodding, you turned around to grab your pack.

The second you turned your back, the barrel of the same gun you’d just handed to Mark poked you between your shoulder blades and you froze, your blood running cold in your veins.

“Hands up, bitch,” Jessa commanded. Her warm and friendly tone had vanished. “And turn around towards me slowly. Now.”

Terrified, you did as you were told and you lifted both of your hands, turning around on the heel of your sneaker to face her.

Her expression, much like her tone, was frigid.

Hostile.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say when I say it.” She held up her rifle, aiming it at you. “And if you don’t, you fucking die. Do you understand?”

“Please,” You choked out. “Don’t—”

“Do you fucking understand?” Jessa repeated in a hiss, her finger hovering over the trigger. When she was met with a small, meek nod, she turned to look at her brother. “Cuff her.”

Mark smirked. He tucked your gun away into the waistband of his jeans and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pair of rusted handcuffs. He walked around and stood behind you, instructing, “Hands behind your back.” Once he had both of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to slip on the cuffs, tightening them so hard that the old oxidized steel dug painfully into your skin. “She’s a pretty one,” he murmured. As soon as he made certain the cuffs were securely fastened, he put a hand on your ass, groping it roughly. “Oh, you’re going to be popular with the guys, dollface. Kind of makes me want to break you in, right here and right now—give me a few minutes with her, Jess.”

Completely paralyzed with fear, all you could do was stand there in silence as his hands continued to roam your lower body, feeling you up through your jeans. He squeezed at your inner thigh, then brushed up over your zipper.

“Mark! That’s not what she’s for, you idiot,” Jessa reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Now quit fucking around and let’s start heading back to camp.”

She whirled around and started leading the way.

Mark grinned and pressed his mouth to your ear as he whispered in cruel reassurance, “Don’t you worry, now. I’ll get my chance with you—we’re all going to our chance with you.”

He grabbed you by your upper arm and roughly shoved you forward, leading you to what would inevitably be hell on earth.

Joel leans against the tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes are fixed intently on you, carefully observing you from where he stands, more so out of concern rather than curiosity. Something isn’t right.

It’s late in the afternoon and the two of you had been about halfway into the six hour trek down south to Jackson when Joel offered to stop for a while, just long enough for the both of you to rest and take a quick breather, find a second wind before finishing the journey—but as he continues watching you, Joel starts to realize that perhaps stopping had done you much more harm than it’s done you good.

Just a few feet away from where he’s standing and keeping a watchful eye on you, you sit perched on top of a small, flat boulder hugging your knees up to your chest with both hands wrapped tightly around the grip of your pistol.

You’re in a trance like state, staring straight off into the distance at nothing in particular. Your face is completely blank. Emotionless. It appears that while all the lights are on, nobody is fucking home.

Squinting against the sunlight, Joel takes a closer look at you. He sees it so clearly, the faraway look in your eyes.

You are gone. You’ve checked out and completely disconnected from reality.

He would go as far as saying you’ve disconnected from this fucking planet.

You’re sinking, slowly drowning in some kind of thought or perhaps it was a memory—whatever it is that’s currently preoccupying your mind, it sure as hell isn’t anything good. He has no fucking clue how he’d managed to clock it so easily, so quickly, but Joel had sensed something was wrong the instant you’d drifted off.

The deeper you go and the further you lose yourself, the harder your hands clutch at your grin, the thin delicate skin on your knuckles stretching taught over the bones. It’s not until Joel notices the way your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as your breaths quicken, the way you start struggling for air, that he knows it’s time for him to intervene before you worsen and suffocate under the weight of whatever it is that’s sitting so heavily on you.

Pushing himself away from the tree, Joel begins to approach you, taking extra care so as not to spook you into turning your pistol on him and pulling the trigger in a moment of panic. He lifts both of his hands and holds them out in front of him. Cautiously, Joel makes his way over towards where you’re sitting on the boulder, his footsteps slow and careful.

“Hey,” he calls out to you, keeping his tone firm, but somehow still gentle as he tries to garner your attention. When you don’t even acknowledge him or his presence, he tries again, speaking a little bit louder. “Hey. S’okay. S’alright. Everythin’ is alright—come on back now.” Joel draws closer and closer to you, taking tiny step after tiny step on the steel toes of his worn, black leather boots. “S’alright, darlin’. I need you to come back to me now, okay? You ain’t where you think you are. You’re alright—”

The sound of a twig snapping underneath his boot startles you. Jumping to your feet, you aim your gun at him with shaking hands and wild, terrified eyes.

Even as your finger trembles over the trigger, Joel remains calm. “Hey, c’mon. Take it easy. S’okay. You’re alright. Look, it’s me. It’s just me and I ain’t gonna do anythin’ to hurt you,” he swears. He shows you his empty hands, hoping that you would be able to snap out of it and realize that he isn’t a threat. That you aren’t in any kind of danger. But as you hold your weapon, chest heaving as you panic, Joel knows it doesn’t matter that his hands are empty. It doesn’t make a fucking difference. He knows it isn’t him who is standing in front of you.

It’s someone else. Whoever you were seeing standing there in his place, it’s someone who had done god knows what to you. Joel has a gut wrenching hunch it had something to do with the marks he’d seen around your wrists back at the cabin. The mere thought of it is enough to send an unpleasant chill up and down the length of his spine.

Joel speaks again. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He feels the sudden urge to reach out for you, but knowing it would be unwelcome, he resists it. All he can do is try and use his words to bring you back to the present. Back to him. “Breathe. You’re safe. I need you to breathe, can you do that for me? Do you think you can breathe for me, darlin’?”

Somehow, his voice penetrates its way in through the thickness of the white fog that you’d been lost in. You had been stumbling around helplessly in it, desperately searching for a way through. Joel’s heavy, deep Southern drawl permeates the memory, causing the haunting images from that fateful day when your life had taken a sharp turn for the worst to dissolve into nothing.

“Just breathe. Nice and slow. Inhale through your nose, then out through your mouth. Easy does it.” Joel controls his own breathing, slowing it down to demonstrate. He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth.

You stare at him with wide eyes as you fight to get the rise and fall of your chest to match his. How the hell do you know what to do?

Joel can practically hear your question ringing in your mind amidst the chaos. “My kid, she gets these awful nightmares sometimes. Wakes up in a panic thinkin’ she’s somewhere else, somewhere she ain’t safe. So my brother’s wife, Maria, well she was kind enough to show me what to do whenever it happens. She taught me a couple different breathin’ techniques that help soothe Ellie and calm her down. Told me it helps if I do them with her,” he explains to you. He can tell that you’re now coming out of the worst of it and that you’re finally starting to get some oxygen back into your lungs. He lowers his hands. Your pistol is still aimed at him, but Joel trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t pull the trigger and blow his fucking head off. “C’mon, breathe. There we go. That’s it. Easy does it, now. In through your nose and out through your mouth, that’s it. That’s a good girl.”

It takes you a good minute or two, but your breaths fall into sync with his own and before you know it, the two of you are breathing together in harmony.

Oh. You’re not in California.

The man standing before you doesn’t have red hair and green eyes. He doesn’t have that twisted smirk on his face. He isn’t putting his hands on you. He’s not hurting you. He’s helping you.

Swallowing dryly, you lower your weapon. Your gaze meets Joel’s and somehow you find the courage to look him in his eyes for the very first time. Even though you had turned your gun on him, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it all. He isn’t upset or angry. The look of worry on his face has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you could have easily killed him just now. It’s as if he’d known for certain that you wouldn’t pull the trigger.

“There we go,” Joel says after another minute passes by. “You see? You’re alright. You’re safe.”

There’s comfort in his words, in his deep brown eyes.

Fuck, there’s comfort in him.

Still. Your mind refuses to allow you to accept it.

At least, not completely.

Averting your gaze, you shuffle your weight from one foot to the other and then back again.

Joel clears his throat lightly. “It’s gettin’ real late,” he murmurs. “We should get a move on. We’ve still got a bit of a way to go and we really don’t wanna get ourselves caught out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere after dark for too long, y’know?”

You give him a small nod and start to gather up your belongings. You pick up your canteen, which is now almost completely empty after you’d shared your water with him during the first leg of the hike, and shove it into one of the side pockets of your back.

“S’kinda cold,” Joel states. “And it’ll only get colder as nightfall approaches. You, uh—you warm enough in that little denim jacket?”

You shrugged a shoulder at him, not thinking anything much of the question. I’m fine.

However, as if on cue, a chilly breeze blows its way through Wyoming’s plains, causing you to shiver.

Joel quickly shrugs out of his brown jacket. “You mind if I—?”

You toss him a confused glance.

Do I mind if you what?

Joel steps towards you and lifts his arms as if he’s going to put them around you. Flinching, every muscle in your entire body goes rigid and he halts. “S’alright. I’m just gonna give you my jacket, that’s all,” he assures you, his arms frozen midair. He patiently waits for a small nod of approval. Once he has it, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and then takes several steps back, giving you your space. “Should keep you from freezin’ your ass off out here.”

As he turns around and walks over to where he had set his rifle down, you stand there somewhat stupefied over what he’d just done. Something so simple, and yet you can’t seem to wrap your fucking brain around it.

Willing yourself to move, you carefully slide both of your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, wrapping it around your body. The scent of him, a mixture of earthy sandalwood and whatever soap he uses to wash his clothes, fills your senses and a strange, but pleasant warmth radiates throughout your chest, gradually spreading itself to the rest of your body from head to toe.

Ignoring the feeling, you pick up your backpack along with your bow and quiver of arrows, slinging everything over your shoulders.

Joel slings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and turns back to you. “Ready to get goin’?”

Pistol in hand, you gesture for him to go ahead and walk in front of you, much like he’d done for the first half of the trip.

He lets out a small sigh. “Alright, I get it. Still don’t fully trust me. Well, we’ll keep workin’ on that, then.”

A couple of hours had gone by. The slanting rays of the setting sun give a warm orange tinge to the skies as late evening begins settling itself in.

“Y’wanna know somethin’?” Joel asks, breaking the silence between you.

You look up at the back of his head, your eyes fixing themselves on his mop of thick, unkempt salt and pepper waves. Occasionally, as you’d been slowly trudging along behind Joel, you stole glimpses of the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck and brushed against the collar of his henley.

Despite the lack of a response, Joel continues to talk. “Earlier at the cabin, just when I was startin’ to come back around, I heard a woman singin’ to me. At least, it sure seemed like she was singin’ to me. It was a real pretty song too.” He glances over his shoulder at you with curiosity. “Was that you?”

You blink at him, keeping a straight face.

“Hm, no I s’ppose it wasn’t you,” he answers his own question. He turns his attention back to the path ahead of him. “I reckon that it must have just been some sorta dream I had while I was out cold. But it sounded so vivid, y’ know? It sounded so fuckin’ real. And the strangest part of it all is that I don’t know how it’s even possible for me to dream of a voice like that,” he muses aloud.

Oh? Unable to help yourself, you move yourself from behind Joel and fall into step beside him. Now it’s you that’s riddled with curiosity. What do you mean by that?

Joel glances down at you. He grips the leather strap of his rifle and shrugs his shoulders. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a voice quite like that in my whole entire life,” he tells you. He shrugs once more, his arm brushing against yours by accident. Joel half expected you to deck him for it, but much to his surprise, it doesn’t seem like his touch had bothered you. “It was too fuckin’ gorgeous. So beautiful that part of me wonders if it was someone or somethin’ out of this world.” He pauses and peered at you, detecting a slight glimmer of light in your eyes. “Felt like I had a real life angel singin’ to me.”

You feel the corners of your lips threatening to turn upwards into a smile. Turning your face away from him, it takes everything you had in you to force them back down.

“Well look at that. You’re walkin’ right next to me,” Joel observes after a minute, raising an eyebrow.

Your head whips back around.

“Must mean that I’m doin’ somethin’ right, huh darlin’?”

You snort and roll your eyes.

I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking.

Still, you remain at his side.

The rest of the trek is silent.

Night had just fallen by the time that you and Joel finally made it to Jackson. The moment that you set your sights on the massive wooden gate out in the distance, your heart begins to pound, slamming against your ribcage.

The closer the both of you draw to the barrier, the easier it is for you to see the men and women who are standing on a platform on top of the gate, heavily armed as they keep watch—their lights illuminate the perimeter of the settlement and light up the velvet purple sky.

You stop dead in your tracks. Oh fuck that.

Joel shakes his head. “S’alright. Don’t be scared.”

There’s six people standing on top of that gate armed with fucking assault rifles. And you don’t expect me to be scared? Are you for real?

“Look, things might be a little tense at first when the patrolmen see us,” he admits, raking a hand through his hair. “None of them have any idea that I’m still alive, but as soon as they see that it’s me, they’re gonna stand down. All I need is for you to stay calm and follow my lead, alright?” He nods at the pistol in your hand. “M’also gonna need for you to put your gun away and out of sight.”

You glare at him, your eyes flashing angrily in the darkness.

You said I could have my weapons on me.

Joel holds up his hand. “I promise that I ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you, alright? I swear it on my fuckin’ life,” he vows. “You have my word. No one’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them. Just stay calm and do as I say. Please,” he adds, a hint of desperation lacing his tone. “Y’think you can do that for me?”

Your mind is screaming, begging you to run and run fast. Instead, you find yourself reluctantly tucking your gun into the waistband of your jeans, concealing it just like Joel had asked you to do.

“Stay behind me,” he instructs, shoving his own rifle behind him. He begins leading the way towards the gate and beckons for you to follow close.

The second the two of you step out from the darkness and into the light, the sound of firearms cocking breaks through the silence of the night.

“Stop right there!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Freeze! Or we’ll fucking shoot!”

“Melissa, it’s me!” Joel calls out, holding up his hands. “It’s Joel!”

“What?”

He huffs and yells again, “It’s Joel!”

“Wait a goddamn minute, everyone fucking stand down!” Melissa loudly barks the order at the five other patrol men and women who are standing on either side of her with their firearms aimed and at the ready. “Joel? Joel Miller, is that really you?” She leans her body forward over the gate and squints at him, letting out an incredulous laugh. “Well butter my fucking ass and call me a goddamn biscuit, the man is fucking alive! Quick, open up the gates! Somebody go and get Tommy! Let’s go, fucking move it people!”

Joel drops his hands, sighing in relief.

You, on the other hand, are scared shitless and wonder if it’s too late to make a run for it.

“Remember,” he says, looking back at you. “Calm. Okay?”

You force a small, tight nod of your head.

Okay.

The gate’s doors pull apart and he leads you up to them and through to the other side where you and Joel are met with a frantic crowd of at least two dozen people—the obnoxious, overlapping chatter coupled with the blatant stares you’re receiving cause an overwhelming feeling of anxiousness to wash over you in a massive wave that, if you allow it, is going to drown you right there on the spot. Refusing to make eye contact with anybody, you fix your gaze on Joel, keeping it focused on the broadness of his back as more and more people circle around the both of you, caging you in with nowhere to run.

“Joel!” Melissa elbows her way through the large crowd, rushing up to him. She grabs him by the arms, giving him a quick once over. “Holy shit! We thought you were fucking dead! I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Where’s Tommy?” Joel asks her.

“At home with Maria. Lisa went to pull him out of bed—where the hell have you been, Joel? It’s been three fucking days!”

Joel purses his lips together tightly. He can feel you inching yourself forward, trying to stand as close to him as possible as more people join the scene. The toes of your boots touch the heels of his, your chest lightly brushing against his back. While Joel doesn’t blame the people of the town for being curious, he isn’t all too fond of the way they’re staring at you—the gestures and the finger pointing, the mutters and the whispers. He doesn’t have to see you to know it’s making you uncomfortable, and his priority is to get you out of there and somewhere where you would feel safe. “Listen, it’s a real long story that I ain’t got time for right this minute. I need Tommy—”

“Miller!”

A loud, booming voice comes from behind Melissa.

It belongs to a tall, bulky blond haired man—his mere presence is intimidating, proven by how it had taken absolutely nothing for the crowd to part and make room for him to pass through. Smirking, he saunters up to Joel and remarks, “I thought you were a fucking goner.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, but he says nothing.

The tension between the two men could be sliced with a fucking machete.

His blue eyes flit over Joel’s shoulder to you. “Well, well, well. Who is this sweet little lady?”

You step even closer to Joel, pressing yourself against his backside and taking a fistful of his shirt.

“None of your fuckin’ business, that’s who.”

Keith’s smirk widens. “Actually, as head of safety and security for this community, it fucking is my business,” he reminds him. “She infected?”

Joel raises his eyebrows. “Does she look fuckin’ infected to you?”

“You know the commune’s rules, Miller.” Without tearing his eyes away from you, Keith calls over his shoulder, “Bring out one of the hounds! Now!”

Behind him, Joel hears a small gasp.

Hounds?

Joel whirls around. “Hey, s’alright,” he says quickly before you can start to panic. “We have dogs that have been trained to sniff out the cordyceps infection. S’just gonna smell you, that’s all.”

The crowd backs away as a woman with cropped hair brings out a large black dog on a chain leash attached to a brown leather harness. Once it catches sight of you, the unfamiliar newcomer, the animal begins to bark and growl, thrashing around as it tries to lunge towards you. The dog tugs and pulls at his leash so violently that he nearly knocks his handler over. The woman unclips the leash and sets the dog free—it approaches you, snarling and baring its teeth.

You start to back away, but Joel stops you.

“Relax,” he mutters to you under his breath. He moves to stand beside you and holds out his hand, offering it in an attempt to comfort you and ease the fear. He hadn’t expected you to accept it, so when you place your hand in his and lace your fingers with his own, he’s taken by complete surprise.

You squeeze his rough, calloused fingers as the dog comes closer towards you. Nervously, you hold your other hand out to it, prompting it to snap at you, its teeth snapping together. Somehow, you muster enough courage to hold your hand steady and the animal growls, but then gives it a sniff. When it doesn’t detect what it’s searching for, the dog happily wags his tail and gives your hand a friendly lick before running back over to its handler who puts the animal back on the leash.

You breathe out in relief.

“There,” Joel snaps at Keith. “You satisfied?”

Keith clicks his tongue. “Almost,” he drawls. He walks over to you, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’s your name, dollface?”

Your stomach drops at the nickname. Looking down at the dirt, you don’t reply.

“Aw, she’s shy! Well isn’t that just adorable.” Keith lets out a raspy laugh, causing a couple of the onlookers to laugh along with him. “What’s the matter, sweetie pie? Hm? Cat got your tongue?”

Joel drops your hand, his nostrils flaring. “Back off asshole or else—”

Ignoring him, the blond patrolman eyes the weapon hanging on your shoulder. “That’s a really nice bow you’ve got there,” Keith states, cutting off Joel’s threat. “But we do have rules here. Newcomers have to surrender their weapons so they can be stored away securely. We don’t know you and until we can know for sure you won’t be a threat to the people of this town, you’re going to have to surrender that bow along with all other weapons you’re carrying.” Keith lowers his voice as he adds, “And I would advise you not to try and hide anything because I’m going to be the one to pat you down—and I’ll be thorough. I don’t take all too kindly to liars, so keep that in mind.”

“You just threaten her in front of me?” Trying his hardest not to cause a scene with so many people watching the three of you, Joel keeps his voice low and quiet—but the sharp, dangerous edge to his tone can’t be missed.

“Of course I didn’t,” Keith responds, innocently. “All I was doing was letting her know how we work around here in Jackson. We’ve been operating the town the same way for years now for a good reason. The rules we set in place apply to any and all newcomers, regardless of who they came here with.” He holds out his hands to you. “Surrender all of your weapons to me. Now.”

Shaking your head, you take a step back. This was not what you’d agreed to. This wasn’t the promise that Joel had made you back at the cabin.

Joel glares at him. “She ain’t surrenderin’ a goddamn thing—”

It’s too late.

Keith steps towards you and goes for the bow. As his hand shoots out to take it from your shoulder, you quickly turn your body and swiftly dodge it. He feels his face burn with red hot anger as several onlookers gasp at your act of rebelliousness. Furious, Keith reaches for you again and grabs you, taking the upper part of your arm in a harsh grip that makes you squeak out in pain.

You lift your opposite arm and swing a curled fist up towards his face, but he catches your wrist in his other hand before it can connect with his jawline.

Joel!

You try to say his name, but you fucking can’t.

Your mouth opens and nothing comes out. For as hard you push and try to force it, you can’t find your voice. Instead, all that falls from your lips is a pathetic, strangled little cry. You yank and pull, struggling as you try to tear yourself out of Keith’s grasp.

Livid, Joel nearly goes fucking blind with rage. He snatches Keith by the collar of his leather jacket, ripping him away from you. Though he’s still sore as from the fall off of his horse three days ago, he uses every ounce of strength he has left in him to throw him down into the dirt at the feet of a fellow patrolman named Wyatt. “Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. Her.” He barely manages to bite out the words through gritted teeth. “Ever.”

Wyatt helps him up to his feet. “You alright, man?”

“Get the fuck off me!” Keith snarls, pushing him away. His chest is heaving and his face turns a deep shade of red. Whether it’s because he’s embarrassed or if it’s because he’s angry, no one can quite tell the difference. One thing is for damn sure, he isn’t used to someone going against his authority and everyone watching holds their breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. After all, the man going against him happened to be their leader’s brother in law. “What the fuck is your goddamn problem, Miller? It’s protocol—”

“Not today it ain’t.”

Keith approaches him, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He stands so close that the two of them are chest to chest, ready to tear each other to shreds. “Do you think just because your fucking brother is second in command, you can just do as you please? Is that it?” He questions, bitterly. “It doesn’t fucking work like that. We have rules set in place for a reason, Joel. We are going to do this by the fucking book whether your little girlfriend here likes it or not, got it?”

Stepping around him, he starts towards you but Joel is quick to block his path. He stands in front of you and squares his shoulders.

He speaks, his voice dangerously low. “You listen and you listen good. If you even so much as think about layin’ another fuckin’ finger on her, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of tonight pickin’ up your teeth off the ground. You understand me?”

“That a threat?”

“It ain’t a threat. It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

Keith pulls his arm back and he’s about ready to take a swing when he’s stopped by the sound of Tommy Miller’s frantic voice.

“Joel! Where is he—where the fuck is Joel?”

The much younger, raven haired man approaches the scene, shrugging a blue denim jacket over his cotton white t-shirt. The instant that he spots Joel, he runs up to him and throws his arms around his shoulders. “Fuckin’ Christ, I thought I fuckin’ lost you out there! What the hell happened?”

“Where’s Ellie?” Joel demands. “She okay?”

“She’s fast asleep at my place with Maria and the baby. She’s been with us this entire time.”

Joel’s shoulders sag in relief.

Tommy looks around, frowning. “What’s going on? What’s everyone doin’ out here?” He then sees you and raises his eyebrows at his older brother. “Joel? Who’s that?”

“Look, I’ll explain everything, can we just—can we talk in private?”

Although he’s confused, Tommy nods.

“Of course. C’mon, let’s go back to my place.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Tommy states as soon as Joel had finished recounting the story—well, what he could remember, anyway. It wasn’t much.

You’re sitting beside Joel across the table from Tommy and Maria in the kitchen of their home. All three of them speak in quiet, hushed voices so as not to wake Ellie and Samuel, Tommy and Maria’s infant son. Maria had offered to go upstairs to pull Ellie out of bed so that she and Joel could reunite, but when Tommy mentioned tonight had been the first night since Joel had gone missing three days ago that she had finally managed to fall asleep, everyone agreed it would be best to wait until the morning.

“So, she saved your life,” Tommy concludes. His brown eyes, even darker than those of his older brother, flicker over to you once again. You sit there in complete silence, staring at the top of the wooden table, refusing to meet his gaze—or that of his wife.

Joel nods. “She did, Tommy. I don’t fuckin’ know how, but what I do know is that if it wasn’t for her, then I wouldn’t be sittin’ here at this table right now.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair. Though the couple had been kind to you, it didn’t make it any easier when they stared at you like you had a second head.

“She saved your life and you don’t even know her name?” Tommy’s in complete disbelief.

“No. She doesn’t talk.”

Maria hums. “I have an idea. Let me find her a notepad or something to write on,” she suggests after a minute. She stands up, wrapping her cotton blue robe around herself, concealing her pajamas as she walks over to the kitchen counter. It takes her a bit of digging around, but in one of her junk drawers, she finds a pen and a small notepad. She makes her way back over to the table and sets the items down in front of you. “Can you write down your name for us?”

You don’t move a single muscle.

“It’s okay, honey. Just write down your name—”

“Best we don’t push her too much,” Joel warns her, holding out his hand to stop her from coming too close into your space.

You glance up at him, your lips parting slightly.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you. “You ain’t gotta tell us anythin’ until you’re good and ready. Alright?”

Tommy clears his throat. “Joel? Can me and you have a quick word in private please?”

Your heart skips an anxious beat.

No, wait! Please don’t leave me.

Less than eight hours ago, you’d been wary of this man, unable to fully trust him. Now, just the mere thought of him leaving your side puts you on edge.

“S’fine, we’re just gonna be out in the hallway,” he assures you. “It’ll only be for a minute or two.”

Realizing you didn’t want to be left alone with her, Maria jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the gas powered stove. “I’m going to make myself a hot cup of chamomile tea. I can boil water for an extra mug if you’d like some?” she offers, warmly.

You’d turned down food and water already, much too afraid to accept anything from her. However, a warm drink did sound tempting and truth be told, Maria did seem like a nice woman. She’s Joel’s family—maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at the very least try and trust her too.

Finally, you nod your head.

“Great,” Maria smiles, looking pleased. “I think it’ll do you some good. Chamomile is very soothing. It helps me relax—something that’s hard to do when you have a fussy six month old,” she kids as she whirls around and goes about preparing the tea.

After making certain that you’ll be fine without him, Joel follows Tommy out into the hallway.

“Joel, what were you thinkin’ bringing her here?”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Tommy sighs. “We need to be careful about who we bring into Jackson—”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now? You worried about this girl bein’ a threat?” Joel stares at him in complete shock. “You serious, Tommy?”

“For all we know, she could be a threat. She didn’t want to give up her weapons, Joel! She even took a swing at Keith!” He hisses. “And she did it in front of a fuckin’ crowd!”

“He put his fuckin’ hands on her—”

“She didn’t cooperate, Joel. You know damn good and well what happens when someone isn’t willin’ to cooperate with the rules. It leads to nothin’ but trouble and you know it as well as I do,” Tommy says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Her first impression here wasn’t a good one. And to make matters a whole lot worse, we don’t know anythin’ about her. It’s a risk takin’ her into the community.”

Joel can’t even believe what he’s hearing.

“So you’d rather I just left her out there alone?”

“Look Joel, we don’t know what she’s capable of,” Tommy reminds him, quietly. “If she’s managed to survive out there all on her own for this fuckin’ long, then who the hell knows what she’s done or what kind of blood is on her hands—you might be thinkin’ that she’s some helpless little victim, but maybe she’s not. Hell, we’ll never know because the girl can’t fuckin’ talk. Or maybe she just won’t talk. Either way, we’re runnin’ a huge risk by takin’ her in without knowin’ who the hell she is or where she came from.”

Joel glares at him. “Listen here, whether she can’t talk or just won’t talk, that doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” he says. He pauses briefly, long enough to take a peek back into the kitchen where you’re still sitting at the table. After she’d finished making the tea, Maria took the two steaming mugs and sat down in the chair beside you. She’s now trying almost desperately to get you to write down your name on the notepad. He immediately notices the way that you’d started wringing your hands together anxiously in your lap and he knows you’re debating in your mind whether or not you should reveal your identity to the stranger. He turns back to his brother with a frown. “She ain’t a helpless victim. She’s a survivor. She saved my fuckin’ life out there, Tommy. If it weren’t for her, I would be dead right now.”

“And where is she gonna stay?”

“With me and Ellie, of course.”

Tommy almost laughs. “Wait. You’re gonna be in charge of her? Someone who won’t fuckin’ talk to you? Whose name you don’t even know? Are you serious?”

Joel doesn’t even think twice about it. “Yeah.”

“Look Joel, I know you can be kind of a fuckin’ dumbass, but you can’t possibly be this goddamn dumb, big brother. Think ‘bout it—”

“I already have thought about it. She’s stayin’ with me.” Joel shrugs. “I know it ain’t gonna be easy, but maybe I can get her to trust me enough to talk to me.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “You really think she can talk and she’s just choosin’ not to?”

“I think she wants to talk, but she can’t. She’s too scared right now. But if I can get her to really trust me—”

“That girl ain’t gonna fuckin’ trust you, Joel.”

“She trusted me enough to come to Jackson,” he says, fiercely. “That has to mean somethin’, I just know it does.”

Tommy exhales a long and heavy sigh. He already knew just how fucking stubborn his brother could be. There’s no changing Joel’s mind once it was made up.

Maria steps out into the hallway. “No luck,” she tells them, shaking her head lightly. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s been through. If she’s too terrified to even give us her name—”

“It must’ve been somethin’ real bad,” Joel finishes for her. He places his hands on his hips. “I think I might have some idea of what happened to her.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Joel lowers his voice as he briefly tells Tommy and Maria about the scars he’d seen around your wrist. “Like she’s been in handcuffs or somethin’,” he murmurs. “Think it could’ve been FEDRA?”

“Possibly.” Maria thinks it over for a moment. “There’s also a good possibility that she’s been a prisoner in a slave camp.”

Slavers.

Joel’s stomach churns at the thought of it. He’d heard about those kinds of groups, about the cruel and inhumane things they did to their prisoners.

He fucking hoped that wasn’t it. But something in his gut told him not to be so goddamn naive.

“Listen, we feel for the girl, Joel. We do,” Tommy admits. “And we’re willin’ to give her some time to adjust, same as we did with you and with Ellie—same as we do with all newcomers. But regardless of what she’s been through, she’s still gonna need to pull her weight around here, just like the rest of us. She’s expected to take on work duty just like everybody else. It’ll be hard findin’ the right job for her if she’s not gonna talk to anyone so the sooner you can get her to break her silence, the better it’ll be,” he advises. He points a finger at his brother. “From this point on, she’s your responsibility.”

“I can handle it, Tommy.”

“For your sake, I really hope you can.”

“Good to know you’ve got faith in me,” Joel makes the sarcastic comment under his breath, but he’s certain Tommy had heard it. “It’s gettin’ pretty late now. She’s exhausted and so am I. M’gonna take her back to my place and get her settled in for the night.”

“What ‘bout Ellie?”

“Best she just stays here with you two tonight. As soon as she’s up in the mornin’, you can bring her on over to mine if that’s alright with you and Maria?”

Tommy nods. “You got it, brother.”

“Besides, I figure it’ll give me a bit of extra time to think of how I’m gonna explain everythin’ to her.” Joel suddenly realizes that he hadn’t given much thought about how he was going to tell Ellie about you—how he was going to explain your condition to her and how you’d be sharing a roof with them from this point on.

Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, good luck with that one.”

Rolling his eyes, Joel roughly shoves past him and back into the kitchen.

You hadn’t drank the tea Maria had made you, but you’d wrapped your hands around the ceramic red mug to warm them up.

“C’mon,” he beckons to you with his hand. “Let’s go. M’gonna take you home now.”

Home.

The word rinds oddly in your ears.

You stand up from the table.

“Wait.” Maria picks up the notepad and pen, handing them over to you. “Here. Take these with you. Just in case you decide you want to use them.”

Joel pushes through the front door, switching on the lights in the foyer of his home before stepping aside to let you in. He watches as you stand there at the door looking rather apprehensive. “It’s okay, darlin’. S’just me and you here tonight.”

Carefully, you step over the threshold. When was the last time you’d even set foot in an actual house? One with running water and electricity?

You couldn’t remember.

Joel shuts the front door behind you and locks it. “Let’s go upstairs.” He gestures for you to follow him up the cherrywood staircase. “It’s pretty late, so I’ll show you the rest of the house tomorrow in the mornin’,” he promises you over his shoulder. At the top of the staircase, Joel switches on more lights that illuminate a short hallway. He points to a door at the end of it, stating, “That one there at the end, that’s mine. This one here is Ellie’s. We also have a third spare, it’s right across from her.” He nods with his head towards the door of the bedroom he’d been referring to. “Go on. Open it up and check it out for yourself.”

You want me to open the door?

Seeing your expression, Joel chuckles. “Go on. It’s alright. There’s nothin’ bad in there. I promise.”

You momentarily hesitate. Fingers trembling, you reach out and grasp the brass door knob, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. You peek inside and flip the light switch next to the door frame.

You gasp. Holy shit, is this fucking real?

The spare bedroom is fully furnished with light oakwood furniture—a dresser up against one wall, a desk nestled in the corner, and two nightstands on either side of the most comfortable, full sized bed that you’d ever seen. The décor is minimal, but whoever had occupied the space before had a clear adoration for simple, warm, earthy tones. You nearly smile at the shades of mud brown, forest green, and autumn orange. Setting your things down on the hardwood floor, you make your way over to the bed and sit down, planting your hands firmly on either side of you. You relish in the softness of the cream colored duvet comforter.

“I’m guessin’ you like it.” Joel can’t help but grin a little. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go see if I can get you one of my shirts or somethin’ that you can sleep in. Make yourself comfortable.” He spins around on the heel of his boot, disappearing into the hallway.

Unable to resist, you lay back onto the bed. Your body sinks into it, melting right into the mattress. It feels like a fucking cloud.

Joel reappears in the room just seconds later. “I can see you took what I said about makin’ yourself comfortable quite literally.” His voice causes you to shoot back up into a sitting position. Joel stands there at the door holding a long sleeved, navy and white flannel shirt in one hand—in the other, he’d been holding a gray hooded sweatshirt and from his arm swings a brown canvas tote bag. “Not too sure what you would prefer to sleep in. I figured you might want somethin’ on the warmer side. Here’s a couple options to choose from. I’ve also got t-shirts if you’d rather sleep in one of those.”

Standing up from the bed, you walk over to him and he holds out the articles of clothing for you to see better. It’s his flannel you gravitate to the most. Taking it from him, you run your fingers over the fabric.

“I can throw your clothes in the washing machine for you first thing tomorrow so they’ll be clean by the time you wake up,” he adds.

You breath out shakily.

A fucking washing machine.

“Overwhelming, ain’t it?”Joel drapes the hooded sweatshirt over a nearby chair, deciding to leave it for you as well. “Trust me, I get it. I felt the same when I first got here with Ellie. It took a lot of time for the both of us to adjust to this new way of life after being out there for so long,” he confesses to you. “The important thing is to take it one step at a time, darlin’. And somethin’ is tellin’ me the next step for you is probably takin’ a nice hot shower?”

Your mouth falls open. A hot shower? Hot?

“You’ll have to share a bathroom with Ellie.” Joel leads you out of the bedroom and to another door adjacent to yours. He shows you the bathroom, telling you which knob in the shower was for hot water and which one was for cold water. “You can use Ellie’s shampoo, m’sure she won’t mind. I’d offer you some of my own, but I don’t think you’ll wanna walk around smellin’ like sandalwood and spice.” Joel hands you the canvas bag he’d had draped over his arm. “Here. Should be pretty much everythin’ you’re gonna need. There’s a bar of soap, a couple clean washcloths, a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste. There’s also a razor.” He pauses. “It’s a men’s razor, one of mine I’ve never used, but I reckon it does the job just the same as a woman’s razor.”

Amused, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What the hell are you trying to say? That I need to shave?

“Not that you have to use it,” he adds quickly, his cheeks burning bright red at what you thought he had been insinuating. He shifts awkwardly from boot to boot. “I tossed it in there just in case you’d want to, but you ain’t gotta use it, that’s not what I meant at all—”

Deciding you don’t want to see him squirm, you lift a hand up to stop him and shake your head.

Truth be told, you actually couldn’t fucking wait to shave your legs.

Calm down, cowboy. It’s all good.

Realizing he hadn’t offended you, Joel relaxes. “I’ll let you get to your shower. You take as long as you want, but just try and leave some hot water for me since I’m next,” he chuckles. “As soon as we both get all cleaned up, we can meet downstairs in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat before bed. Deal?”

Deal.

He’s about to leave you to it when you stop him, grabbing his arm. Wait a second, Joel.

Joel’s eyes meet yours. “Yeah?”

Thank you.

Your gratitude might have been silent, but it was there and he knew it.

Feeling brave, Joel reaches up and places his hand over yours for a moment, his thumb brushing against the softness of your skin. “No need to thank me, sweetheart.”

Letting his hand drop away from yours, Joel then turns and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him to give you your privacy.

Once you have the hot water running, you kick off your boots and start to peel off your clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor near the door. Completely naked, you turn your back towards the oval shaped mirror hanging over the bathroom sink, unwilling to take a look at the scars on your body—painful reminders of the cruel punishments you’d endured during your time in captivity.

You grab the toiletries from the tote bag Joel had given you and set them on the side of the tub. Pulling the yellow floral curtain aside, you step into the shower and position yourself directly underneath the scalding hot water, letting it burn your skin to give you an entirely different kind of pain to think about, even if it was just for a minute until your body adjusted to the temperature of the water and it no longer hurt.

You begin washing yourself, trying your hardest to keep from crumbling. But you couldn’t. Lump in your throat and a tightness in your chest, tears brim your eyes, ready to fall.

You’re willing to let them.

Two years. For almost two fucking years, you had been suppressing your emotions. You’d been in a constant survival mode, there had been no time to feel anything. And now here you were, standing in a fucking shower with all the freedom in the world to just let it all out.

Silent sobs wrack your body, bringing you down onto your knees.

Joel’s shower had been a quick one.

You hadn’t left him very much hot water—but he couldn’t even be mad about it.

He pulls on a pair of light gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He haphazardly dries off his hair and makes his way downstairs, knowing you would be heading down there any minute now to meet him like you’d agreed. Without much time to make a proper meal for you to eat, Joel goes about the dimly lit kitchen and prepares a couple of cold turkey sandwiches. He’d just plated them and set them on the table when the soft padding of bare feet on the hardwood floor prompts him to look up.

His breath catches in his throat. You stand there in the doorway wearing nothing but his flannel shirt. The hem of it falls to the middle of your thighs, and it takes everything in him not to think about the fact that you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt. His fucking shirt.

Clearing his throat lightly, he makes sure not to let his gaze wander where it’s not supposed to. “I bet you feel a lot better, don’t you?”

You sigh softly. Oh, you have no fucking idea.

Noticing you’re holding your hands behind your back, Joel shoots you a puzzled look. “What’cha got there?”

You bring your arms forward. Clutched in your hands is the notepad and pen that Maria had given you.

Although he takes it as a sign that you are willing to communicate with him, Joel knows better than to get too far ahead of himself. He’d wait until you were ready to make the first move and he’d follow your lead. “I made you a sandwich to eat,” he tells you, pulling out a chair at the table. “C’mon, come have a seat.”

After you sit down, Joel goes over to the sink and fills two glasses of water, one for you and one for himself. Setting them down on the table, he finally takes a seat across from you—that’s when he notices the redness in your eyes. You’d been crying. Even though he wants to ask you if you’re alright, Joel decides against it for the time being and the two of you eat in comfortable, tranquil silence.

“I can make you another one if you’re still hungry,” Joel offers when you polish off the last couple bites of your sandwich.

Shaking your head, you place your hands on your belly signaling that you’re full. You’re not, though. You’d eagerly scarf another three of them down if you could, but you were a lot more exhausted than you were hungry and you couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed upstairs and get some sleep..

Joel studies you. “You okay, darlin’?”

You shrug. This has just been a lot to process.

“I know it’s gonna be tough for you. It’s like I told you earlier, it’s gonna take some time to adjust to your new life here in Jackson. But I need you to know you ain’t alone anymore. I’m gonna be here to look out for you. And trust me, I know you don’t really need me to.” Joel pauses and shoots you a crooked little grin. “Hell, you took a swing at Keith. You’ve got bigger fuckin’ balls than half of the men in this town. Includin’ myself.”

You let out a huff of amusement from your nose and the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile—you don’t try to force it down.

Joel blurts the words before he can even think to stop himself. “You’ve got a real nice smile, y’know.”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you move your empty plate off to the side and grab your pen and notepad. You swiftly scribble something onto the blank page, then slide it across the table to Joel.

He picks it up, an odd sensation fluttering inside his chest when he realizes what you had done.

You’d written down your name for him.

He says it out loud, and then looks up at you.

“That’s a real beautiful name.” Sincerity drips from his tone, going hand in hand with his compliment.

Cheeks burning, you glance down at your hands, which you’d begun wringing together on top of the table. It was out of nervousness, but this kind was different. You couldn’t quite explain it.

“I know it’s gonna take a whole lot more than a hot shower and a sandwich to get you to trust me. But I swear that I’m gonna do whatever I can to show you that you ain’t got anythin’ to be afraid of. Not with me around. Okay?”

Okay.

You open your mouth, trying to repeat the word back to him.

Joel’s eyes widen slightly. You wanted to talk to him—you were actually trying to talk to him. But it was a clear struggle. Something wasn’t letting you find your voice.

Clamping your mouth shut, you sigh and sink back into your chair. I’m sorry. I can’t.

“It’s okay,” he says, softly. “We’re gonna take this one step at a time. Together.”

#to hell and back fic #to hell and back #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller comfort #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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lxkeee · 4 months

Text

⋆.˚ ⭒˚FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

—part two

pairing: lucifer morningstar x fem! archangel raphael! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: friends to enemies, so it's angsty

notes: hehehehe idk yeah, this is now a series of sort 🤯 also, eat well simps /affectionate. I'll be basing off the seven virtues' appearance off from esbellesantos' Fanart but I wouldn't like fully follow their headcanon personality and make a different personality for them.

Part One | Part Three | THE SEVEN VIRTUES

So many years have passed after Lucifer's trial, during those years [y/n]'s gigantic and majestic wings finally grew. Three pairs of majestic wings now prodding on her back, a golden halo on top of her head. The [y/n] that was just a background character has now risen up the ranks, God seeing her potential and granted her the title of archangel, now one of the seven virtues of heaven.

[y/n] who was once upbeat and cheerful has now grown cold and mature as she took the responsibility god has placed upon her shoulders. Heart closed to other immortal beings but opened to the mortal ones.

She rules a specific area of the skies, as the seven virtues are tasked to watch their own territory and to make sure to maintain peace and order with the heavenly beings.

She sat on the chair just by her balcony, a small table in front of her. A cup of steaming coffee on the table as she read a newspaper containing some daily heavenly news. A gold wedding ring on her ring finger. She stared at the bright, white, and blue scenery outside her home. Clouds all over the place, other lower ranked angels flying around.

She lives in a huge mansion by herself despite being married.

“Darling I am here~!” a male spoke as the sound of the door to the living room was slammed open. Speaking of her husband, familiar footsteps tapping on the pristine white and gold marbled tiles as the person arrived to the balcony of the living room.

“Azrael, to what do I owe you the pleasure?” [y/n] asked, gently placing back down her coffee cup on to the table. Tilting her head to look at her husband. Tall, slender, mischievous.

Don't get her wrong, she and Azrael don't like each other romantically but they are more on platonic. They only got married... Well... Because of boredom and they did promised each other to marry each other if they remained single even when they've reached a certain age. They promised to divorce each other if they find the one that is right for them. Despite their odd friendship, the two trust each other a lot. Azrael was one being there for her when Lucifer fell from grace.

“I just have some news to share with you, I think this will catch your interest dear.” Azrael winked at her, leaning against his black staff. Eyes half lidded as he awaited for her reaction.

[y/n]'s eyes stopped moving along the words of the paper she was reading, tilting her head to look at the taller angel with curiosity, eyebrow raised. “Really now? Tell me dearie.” she says with a smirk, lifting her coffee cup and bringing it to her lips.

“Lucifer apparently wants to have a meeting with heaven. He wanted to propose another idea of his.” Azrael says with a smirk, his smirk widening as he watched [y/n] choked on her drink.

She clears her throat, getting the caffeine out of her esophagus. The revelation brought back so many memories that it caught her off guard.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” she asked again, eyes blinking. Having second thoughts whether she heard him wrong.

Azrael crosses his arms and smirks, “You heard me, he's coming up here to tell us about his plans for the wayward souls down there.”

“Really now?” [y/n] asked with a scoff, wiping her lips with a clean white cloth. She lost her hope in humanity, she believes that the people who didn't properly use the free will gifted to them by Lucifer, shouldn't be given another chance as they wasted that opportunity to live a good life.

“I doubt that the others would agree to whatever plan he has to show.” [y/n] says, sipping her coffee once more.

Azrael laughs, wiping a tear off his eye. “My, you used to agree with his views. To see you disregard his plans before even hearing is just too cruel, [y/n]” he says with a mischievous smile on his face, a sing-song tone in his voice.

“They got gifted free will and look what they have done with it. I believe those souls are better off staying down there and looking back at the times they could've done better.” [y/n] says coldly.

Azrael shrugs, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Well, I don't really care about mortal life that much considering I am the angel of death. My duty is to guide them to the afterlife.” he says, shrugging. Walking to the railings of the balcony and leans his back against it.

“Well, that's the only reason I came here. I have duties to attend to and the meeting will be happening in a few days. I'm sure it would be quite a lovely reunion with all eight of us.” Azrael says with a smirk, excited how the meeting will go with all seven virtues plus Lucifer in the same room. He can tell it would be tense and chaotic.

“Good luck in your work.” [y/n] says with a lazy shrug making the taller angel laugh.

“Adios~” he says before disappearing in a puff of sparkly black smoke.

Turning back to the world outside her home, dull [e/c] eyes looking over the blue horizon. She sighs, closing her eyes as she sighs.

“A meeting huh, it's been awhile since I've last seen him.” she mutters, eyes opening. Cold and calculative. “This should be interesting.”

Timeskip to a few days later...

Lucifer paced back and forth inside his room, a guest room heaven prepared for him. The meeting would happen in two hours and he is beyond nervous. It took so much time to convince them to listen to him but they finally agreed because he persisted.

He expected that it will be only Sera to judge his plans, the anxiety and fear he felt when Sera told him that the seven virtues themselves would grant him an audience to his plans for hell.

He doesn't know much about the seven virtues as it was only implemented a few years after his fall but he knew that it consists of powerful angels that kept the order and peace of heaven. He can list a few angels that are probably one of the seven virtues.

But despite all this, his heart has been aching. He's in heaven, he's standing on the same ground as [y/n]. He misses her, so goddamn much.

Did she miss him too? Probably not.

Remembering how bad their goodbye was, there wasn't any to begin with.

Lucifer sighs, patting up his dark pink suit to ease up the creases. Despite the years that have already gone by, [y/n] never left his heart. He never forgets, every detail of his world no matter how miniscule it is... He can't help but think, [y/n] would've loved this, this is her favorite color, her favorite food, and etc.

He loves Lilith but he also loves [y/n] (more even!) and he knows it's too late to admit that and he's afraid to admit to himself that... He may have made the wrong choice of ignoring her advances.

His gloved hands moved to his collar, adjusting it. “Don't think about her Lucifer, you have a meeting to do and this is for the sake of your people and family.” he says to himself. Taking deep breaths to calm his fast beating heart.

He is ready to propose his plan on making a hotel to redeem sinners.

The seven virtues of heaven sat in a u-shaped table, all seven virtues wearing a mask that hides their faces. In front of them stood a very nervous Lucifer.

Not a single one of them aside from Lucifer talked, they listened to him talk about his plans for hell.

It is a good plan but without proof, it is useless.

“With the hotel, I am sure sinners would find a way to redeem themselves and join you guys here in heaven.” Lucifer says, a nervous smile on his face as he ends his presentation. Standing in front of the seven virtues is a real nerve wrecking. He can sense the power emitting from each and every one of them. One wrong move and he's done for.

“The idea is cute and all but without evidence, this... This is completely useless.” Gabriel says, a bored tone in her voice as she lazily held the folder filled with the details of Lucifer's plan and letting it fall into the table with a loud thud.

Lucifer flinches from her remark and the sound of his hopes and dreams of his people hitting with a loud thud on the table from Gabriel's actions.

“I agree.” Michael says, removing his mask. A mischievous smile on his face. “Lucifer, you don't know what these mortal souls are capable of. How can you be so sure the hotel would work if you yourself aren't sure they wanted to redeem themselves in the first place?” Michael asked, voice filled with authority, eyebrows raised as he asked the question, looking down on his twin brother, Lucifer.

Lucifer flinches, starting to get nervous.

“Well... We wouldn't know if we'd tr—” he says but getting cut off.

“You've never seen the horrors and atrocities these mortal souls commit with their free will. War, corruption, death, murder, drugs... Anything you can name it. What makes you think these people would want to make themselves better?” Jophiel says, his voice shaking. A laugh escaping his lips as he remembers the horrors he's seen on earth, a mocking laughter.

“They're truly terrible, these souls don't have a place here in heaven.” Michael sneered.

Azrael just smirked as he watched the scene unfold, [y/n] keeping quiet beside him. His hand intertwined with hers to comfort her.

“But they're souls, human souls just the same with the one's up here in heaven.” Lucifer defended, clenching his fists.

“They are not the same, the souls here in heaven have earned it.” Camuel says with a smile, finally removing his own mask.

“Ugh, the work I have to do carrying each soul to their destination is quite tiring. Annoying even. Especially when a soul curses at me for bringing them to hell when they only have themselves to blame.” Azrael says with a groan, smirking as he removes his mask. Looking at Lucifer challengingly.

Lucifer's eyes widened at the cruelty of their words, six virtues now staring at him face-to-face, aside from one virtue who kept quiet.

“Well, each one of us already said our opinion aside from Raphael here... Or should I say, [y/n]? Do you have something to say?” Azrael says, a teasing smile on his face. [Y/n] glaring at Azrael as she slightly squeezed his hand.

Lucifer's eyes widened, heart beating faster than ever before when he heard the name. Even more so when the last virtue removed her mask.

Cold, bored, calculative, and dull.

No longer the bright sparkling [e/c] eyes Lucifer loved before.

“Is this even necessary? All of you had already said what needed to be said.” [y/n] says, removing her hand from Azrael's as she leans her elbows on the table. Putting her chin on her knuckle. A lazy and bored look on her face. A shiny gold band on her ring finger, a wedding ring.

She's married? He asked himself but that question isn't too important as he is focused on something else. How cold she is. That something Lucifer isn't quite used to.

The others looked at [y/n] expectantly making the woman sigh, “Very well then, I would have to agree with the others.” she says coldly.

This isn't his [y/n]. Where was the [y/n] who used to be so kind, bright, cheerful, and had hopes for humanity? What happened to her?

Lucifer stood in fear, not knowing how to act now that [y/n] is revealed to be one of his audience.

“Humans. They are selfish and vile creatures. Destroying the planet our creator had given them, killing and hurting their own kind. Poverty, hunger, corruption, death. If you haven't given them the apple, they would be living in peace and harmony and with no worry in eden but you took that away from them and now they're doomed to suffer.” [y/n] coldly explained. “You cannot see it personally and that is your burden to carry, your punishment.”

Lucifer can't speak, mind blanking as a loud ringing was heard on his ears. Hands shaking, he couldn't breathe.

Where was the one person who believed in him? Did he fucked up so much to even lose her too?

“You're really mad huh?” Azrael says, placing a hand over his cheek. A similar gold band on his ring finger. Lucifer's eyes widened.

Azrael is married to her. Lucifer thought. Defeated.

“Well, this court finds no evidence that this hotel would be effective. I suggest you leave now or you'll face the consequences.” Michael says, voice is booming and filled with authority. The other virtues glaring at him. Halo's shining down on Lucifer as if to mock him, to show him that they are in power.

Why do you still look so disappointed in me? More so even?

Lucifer asked, looking at [y/n] who avoided his gaze.

Azrael showing off his wedding ring to him with a smirk on his face, making Lucifer's eye twitch.

“This meeting is over.” Michael says, glaring down on Lucifer. “Leave or else you'll suffer the consequences.” Michael says, angelic weapons now aimed warningly at him.

Fear coursing through his veins, Lucifer left. Despite wanting to stay and talk to her, he couldn't. Poofing away in a cloud of sparkly red smoke.

“You okay?” Azrael asked beside her as they flew back to their respective territories. Passing by many clouds, the skies now have a dark shade of blue as the sun has set a few hours ago.

“Nope, but I will eventually.” she says with a sigh making the dark haired male smile.

“You know, I didn't expect him to be so small. You used to be the same height but now you're taller than him.” Azrael mutters with a small laugh.

“They don't have the sun there, Azrael. They don't have the necessary vitamins to grow taller.” [y/n] says with a small laugh. The joke making the male angel laugh hysterically.

“HAHAHAHA! Since when did you make such jokes [n/n]? A really dark one too!” he says before winking at her, “No pun intended.”

The unintended pun making the girl chuckle. Azrael smiled, happy he got to make her smile after that stressful meeting.

I based off the seven virtues here aside from Raphael and Azrael image.

Also, I based this off from the "more than anything" song that Lucifer tried to look for ways to help his people and also based off from that one panel of an episode (I forgot which one) where he was wearing the same outfit Charlie is wearing, the pink suit? Yeah, I imagined he did the hotel concept and told Charlie about it.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z

#AZRAEL AND READER ARE PLATONIC OKAYY #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lxkeee answers #lucifer morningstar #lxkeee updates #probably #should i make him a love interest? 👁️👁️#love rival of Lucifer?#they are besties who got married for shits and giggles okay lmfao

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andvys · 11 months

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Pretty when you cry E.M.

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! Smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, alcohol, age gap, reader is 22, Eddie is 41, cheating (reader gets cheated on by her asshole bf but it’s okay eddie makes her feel much better), slightly dark!Eddie, mentions of Eddie's scars from the upside down, mentions of bullying

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x younger!fem!reader

Summary: You came home from college to surprise your boyfriend but walk in on him with another girl. To escape your thoughts and the pain he had caused you, you go to the hideout for a distraction and it might turn into the best night of your life.

Word count: 5.8k+

stranger things masterlist

You always feared that this day would come.

The worst thing that could happen finally happened. There was a reason why you never wanted to fall in love, why you never wanted to give your heart to a person, knowing that they could crush it any time they wanted to but you trusted him. He was a good person, he was a sweet guy, a loving one. He treated you like a princess, he took care of you and spent every possible minute with you, his eyes never strayed away from you. He never entertained other girls, he never seemed interested in anyone but you. It was easy to trust him, to fall in love with him. You felt safe with him, even when you left for college, you knew that nothing bad would happen but now it did.

You came home earlier than you were supposed to. It was finally Christmas break and you were excited to spend time with him, you were excited to surprise him but in the end, you were the one who got surprised.

With a smile on your face, you walked up the stairs to his apartment, you held the keys in your hands that he gave you a few months back, you couldn’t wait for him to scoop you up into his arms and kiss you but you never got that.

You didn’t walk in to him making dinner in the kitchen or to him sitting on the couch and watching one of his favorite horror movies, no, you walked in on him fucking another girl on the couch. She was on top of him, her lips attached to his, they were both moaning loudly, desperately and as though that wasn’t heartbreaking enough, you heard him whimpering her name.

Meg, Meg, Meg…

You were so caught off guard, shocked and hurt that at first, you didn’t realize who she was. Only as he said her name, you realized that she was the girl that used to bully you in school. The girl that used to make your life a living hell until he came along.

“I love you, baby.”

A wave of nausea rushed through you when you heard his words and her reciprocating them.

You wanted to yell at them, to grab her by the hair and drag her off of him so you could slap the daylight out of him but instead, you left as soon as you came.

The tears didn’t come until you were out in the cold again and you were able to catch a breath, you placed your hands on your knees and hunched over, feeling like you were going to throw up but nothing came out, instead a sob fell from your lips.

Your chest was hurting and your stomach churned as your mind replayed the scene you have just witnessed. You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths.

You couldn’t believe it.

You felt so betrayed and hurt. How long has this been going on? How long has been fucking her? How long has he been with her? Clearly, it wasn’t the first time. He loves her. God, he loves her.

You never dealt with pain very well, usually, you would drown it in something.

Tonight, you chose alcohol.

You went to the bar, the only one in town. The one you were never really fond of. The Hideout.

Finn would always drag you here, usually just to get the drugs that the intimidating bartender would sell. The man always sent shivers down your spine, in a way you shouldn’t enjoy. While he always treated your boyfriend coldly, he was always more welcoming towards you. Always sweet and kind, maybe a little too kind.

He scared you a little though, not because of the rumors that people spread around or because of the things he was accused of when he was younger. You never believed those things. You were scared of something that he held in his eyes whenever he looked at you.

Normally, you would never come here without him but there is no him in your life anymore and you desperately need a drink and a good distraction. You walk in after wiping your tears away. The bar isn’t really crowded, it never is. Only a few men occupy some tables.

You sigh as you take your heavy coat off, placing it on the hanger before you make your way towards the counter. Sure enough, Eddie Munson is here. Unlike the last time you had seen him, his beard is now gone, his clean shaven face makes him look younger, though you always liked the scruff. His curls are laying softly on his shoulders, the sleeves of his flannel pulled up to his elbows, showing off his tattoos.

You swallow nervously as you take a seat by the bar, he has yet to notice you, too busy preparing a drink for the man at the end of the bar. Licking your lips, you place your elbows on the counter and straighten your back as you watch him.

You came here for something else, you know it, deep down, you know it.

After placing the drink in front of the man, he turns around, finally, his eyes fall on you. He raises his brows, a smirk pulling at his lips as he throws the towel over his shoulder, making his way over to you. He looks around, probably looking for your boyfriend that he won’t find anywhere here tonight.

“Well hello there,” he smirks as he comes closer to you, he eyes you slowly, “long time no see, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you breathe, forcing a smile onto your face.

Eddie always made you feel nervous, you never managed to utter many words when he was around him.

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Yes,” you mumble, looking down to avoid eye contact, “can I get a drink?”

“Sure, what can I get you, sweets?”

You look up at him through your lashes, catching him staring at your lips. You blush when he doesn’t look away.

“Just– something strong, please.”

A chuckle falls from his lips, he nods and steps away, “something strong, got it.”

You watch him, staring at his back as he fixes your drink. He is taller than Finn, his shoulders are broader and generally, he is much more attractive, not that you would ever actually admit that to yourself.

“There you go,” he says, placing the drink in front of you. You look at the rings on his fingers, his rough hands, the thick veins. Your eyes move up to his wrist, to the scar on his forearm, the tattoos.

“Thanks,” you whisper. Your fingers brush his when you reach for the drink, your breath hitches in your throat and you tense up a little.

Eddie chuckles to himself as he pulls his hand away, he stares at your flustered face. He always enjoyed the little reactions he got from you whenever he touched you briefly, whether it was a hand on the small of your back, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear or his hand touching yours, you would always get flustered under his gaze. Your eyes always flashed with desperation and guilt, you were intrigued by him, he could see it in your eyes, though the guilt of enjoying the way another man could make you feel with such little touches always led you to stepping closer to your boyfriend, reaching for his hand and clinging to him as though he could make you feel what he could.

“You’re welcome,” he smirks, placing his hands on the counter, he watches you a little closer, noticing the red rimmed eyes, the glassiness in them. You cried before you came here. He wonders if it was your boyfriend’s fault. He hopes it was.

“Where’s your little boyfriend?”

You clench your jaw and furrow your brows, tensing up at the mention of him.

Oh yeah, it was definitely his fault.

You shrug, tearing your eyes away from him, you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip of the bitter liquor.

“He’s fucking some other girl.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, clearly, he didn’t expect that. Who in their right mind would cheat on you? Eddie knows that he shouldn’t feel that way about someone who is much younger than him but he can’t help it, the first time he saw you, his heart stopped in his chest, you stole his breath away, you made him shiver. He was at the little flower shop, getting a bouquet for Robin’s birthday when he saw you. You were picking out flowers in your cute little sundress, sunglasses perched on your nose, a soft smile pulled at your lips as you picked out peonies. He was sure that he experienced love at first sight, he stared at you like a fool, unable to move, unable to speak. You didn’t see him though, you were too focused on all the pretty flowers.

You saw him a few days later though, when you walked into the hideout with your boyfriend, that was one year ago. The disappointment he felt was huge when he saw you hand in hand with a man who most likely had it all, money, a fancy car and a bright future, and the right girl.

The right girl that he fucked over.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he sighs, not really knowing what else to say. Eddie was never good with words, he was better with actions. He reaches his hand out, placing it on top of yours.

He would never do this to you.

Your lips part and your breath gets caught in your throat, looking back at him, you see the sympathy in his eyes but also something else.

Tears well up in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, you blink them away and shrug, acting like it doesn’t hurt, acting like he didn’t tear your heart out and stomped all over it.

“He is fucking the girl that used to bully me when I was still in school,” you mumble, “I saw them together, he told her that he loves her.” Your voice wavers a little, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Anger wells up in his chest, yeah, Eddie doesn’t know you very well, your previous interactions were brief but he always felt a little protective of you, maybe a little too much. Always keeping his eyes out to see if anyone is making you uncomfortable when you were here.

“What a fucking asshole,” he mumbles, shaking his head, “you want me to beat him up for you?”

A small chuckle falls from your lips, your eyes crinkle with amusement as you meet his eyes. Eddie smiles at you, clutching your hand tighter.

“No, I can do that, I just needed a moment to myself first.”

He chuckles, “and that’s why you came here?”

You nod.

For the next half hour, you make small talk with him, he asks you about college and you ask him about the latest gossip in Hawkins, knowing that the drunken men always talk about the things their bored housewives tell them.

All throughout your conversation, you feel yourself craving more of his attention.

His eyes skip down to your lips before they find yours again, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here by yourself, you always looked so scared to be here.”

A shiver runs down your spine, your skin tingles beneath his hand, though you still wrap your fingers around his thumb. You lick your lips and nod.

You were never scared to be here. You were never scared of him. You were always scared of the way you felt around him. The way he made that fire burn in your lower belly. The way he made your heart stutter. The way he made your skin feel so hot and tingly. The way he made you squeeze your thighs together. The way he made you crave him.

“Why’s that?” He asks as he looks at you with a smirk on his face and a knowing look in his eyes. He knows damn well why you were so afraid to be here but he still wants to hear you say it.

There was always a tension between the two of you. You longed for him just as much as he always longed for you. The eye contact you held was always special.

“I wasn’t scared to be here,” you admit with a shaky voice.

“No?” He mumbles, tilting his head.

Beneath the dim light, you see the very slight wrinkles on his face, the laugh lines that are barely visible, Eddie looks very good for his age, he is only 41 but some other men his age look much older. His skin is rough against yours and he is tall, much taller and much older, something about that, makes you crave him.

Your relationship is clearly over and even if you still have to go through it, to realize everything fully, to deal with it, you finally allow yourself to feel what you have always felt deep down.

Your attraction for the older man.

You shake your head, “no,” you mumble, you take another sip of your drink, some of the liquor dripples down your chin, you put the glass down. Eddie watches the single droplet rolling down to your jaw, he reaches his hand out, cupping your cheek with his large hand, he catches the drop with his thumb.

Your lips part in surprise, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his touch, he stares at your lips, bringing his thumb up to your bottom lip, he swipes the liquid off and looks back into your eyes with a darkened look in them, suddenly, he wraps his lips around his thumb, licking the liquor off his finger.

He smirks, satisfaction runs through him when he sees the look on your face.

“Then why did you look so scared?” He asks, continuing your conversation.

“Huh?”

He chuckles, licking his lips. You are still staring at his lips with desire in your eyes.

“Why did you look so scared whenever you were here?” He asks, looking over your shoulder to see some customers leave, he waves at them, giving them a small smile. That only leaves the man sitting in the booth by the window. Eddie redirects his eyes to you, “were you scared of me?”

When you don’t answer right away, Eddie finally throws the towel on the counter and leaves his spot, he makes his way towards you and suddenly, you grow more nervous, more intrigued, more desperate.

When you were in pain, dealing with personal struggles or looking for a distraction, you always opted for harmless things, books, movies, baking, writing but as you got older, you realized that, that, simply wasn’t enough. Sometimes you needed drinks, weed and parties but even that was never the right thing. There was an itch you needed to scratch and right now, you realized what you need. What the right thing is. It’s right in front of you.

The right thing– the right one.

It’s the one with the dark curls and the even darker eyes, the rough and intimidating looking man that is secretly a soft one, deep down. The one that hides behind this dark facade to make himself look more intimidating, to protect himself, to make himself look less vulnerable. He is what you need.

He sits down in front of you, close enough for you to smell his cologne, the whiskey he probably had before you walked in. You can feel his energy, you can feel the way he feels about you, the way he always felt about you.

Maybe you came here for a reason, maybe you came here because you knew that the distraction you needed– you wanted wasn’t the drinks, you came here for something you always wanted.

Him.

You always wanted him. That’s why you were so afraid to be here, you were scared to lose control, scared of what you would do if he made a move on you– would you stop him? Probably not.

You certainly won’t stop him now.

“No, Eddie.” You whisper. Your drink is long forgotten, you are intoxicated by him. He sits close to you, towering over you with his tall frame, his knee is pushed between your thighs and his hand finds it’s way to your knee.

His heart flutters at the way you say his name.

You stare into each other’s eyes with a sense of longing. Neither of you say anything, he waits for you to continue but you stare at him, at his lips, at his thick neck, you stare at him for what feels like forever, not moving, not speaking.

And he waits for you. He keeps his hand on your knee, squeezing it a little.

When the last customer finally leaves, you decide to show him instead. You place your feet on the floor, standing up, you step towards him. His legs are spread, you step in between them and look up at him with a needy gaze. Instinctively, he places his hands on your waist as you cup his cheeks.

You’ve been waiting to cross that line and he has been waiting for you to cross it.

You take a shaky breath and before you decide against it, you slam your lips against his, kissing him, like you always wanted to.

He smirks and pulls you tightly against him as he kisses you back right away. His hands leave your waist, instead he wraps his arms around your shoulders and hugs you tightly as he deepens the kiss with a loud moan.

God, you wish you had done that much earlier.

Your pain, your broken heart is long forgotten now that you finally feel what it’s like to be kissed by a man.

His lips are rough against yours, he kisses you like no one ever kissed you before. Rough, passionate, delicate. He makes your stomach burn with need. Wetness pools in your panties.

His tongue meets yours and the kiss gets deeper and deeper, rougher and more desperate. He gets up and picks you up with ease, without breaking the kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto his neck as you smile into the kiss. Eddie carries you over to one of the tables, placing you on top of it. You pull him flush against you.

He groans as he feels you grinding against him.

“Baby… fuck, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, “hold on,” he chuckles as he presses another kiss to your lips, “gotta– fuck.. I have to lock the door, hold on.” He pats your cheek after giving you another kiss before he pulls away from you, rushing around the counter to get the kiss, he keeps his eyes on you.

You smirk at him, spreading your legs wider, you push your dress up, sliding it further up your thighs.

“Wait for me,” he grunts as he rushes towards the door, locking it up quickly and turning the main lights off, leaving the dim lights from the bar on.

When he is back in front of you, you grab his hand and pull him back to you, “do you want to fuck me, Eddie?”

His eyes darken, blood rushes to his dick.

“You have no idea how bad I want you, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he cups your cheek, “but are you sure that you want it?” He asks, sweetly. “I don’t want you to regret anything–”

“Shut up and fuck me, old man.”

He looks impressed, words caught in his throat and a smirk tugging at his lips.

Neither of you ever expected this to happen, especially not like this. But this is how you end up under him that night. He kisses you roughly, leaving your lips puffy by the time he makes his way down to your neck, he sucks on your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your shoulder after pushing the sleeves of your dress down your arm.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, y/n,” he murmurs against your skin, “first time I saw you, I thought you were an angel.”

You gasp, eyes closing when he pushes his free hand under your dress, he toys with your thin tights before he rips them apart, earning another gasp from you, “‘m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll buy you new ones, I promise,” he says as he finally touches you.

You place your hand on his shoulder and the other on the table behind you as you tilt your head to give him more access to your neck.

“Eddie,” you whimper.

His lips feel so soft yet so rough against your skin, his other hand cups your pussy, feeling how wet you are for him makes him groan in pleasure.

“I’m not gonna lie, when you walked in with that prick, I was disappointed,” he admits as he places his fingertips against your clit, rubbing you over your panties, “shit, I wanted you from the first moment I saw you, baby.”

You gasp, lips parting at both his words and his touch. You buck your hips up, trying to grind yourself against his hand.

“Y-You did?” You whimper as you push your hand into his hair, gripping his curls.

“Yes, fuck yes,” he grunts, “pretty thing like you deserves a real man.”

He pulls away from your neck, staring at it for a moment, with a sly smirk, he admires the bites and hickeys he left for him to see. Then his eyes meet yours and his heart softens.

You look vulnerable but also needy.

“Show me how real men fuck,” you whisper, licking your lips.

“Gladly baby,” he smirks, pecking your lips one more time before he pushes you down. You lay your back flat against the table, swallowing nervously as you wait for him to touch you. Eddie bunches your dress up at your waist and pushes your tights down your legs. His eyes flash with hunger when he sees the black lacy thong you’re wearing, he swallows, laying his large hand on your lower stomach, he looks into your eyes, “you wore that for him, huh?” He asks as his fingers reach for the band, “you wanted to surprise him?” He asks with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

You don’t want to talk about him, you don’t even want to think about him, not when you finally have what you want.

“It’s all for you now.”

“Damn right, baby.”

He rips them off of you, chuckling darkly at your little squeal, he brings the panties up to his face, sniffing them, he closes his eyes and moans.

“Eddie!” You gasp as your face flushes with embarrassment.

He only chuckles at your reaction, pushing the panties in his back pocket, he grabs your soft legs and throws them over his shoulders as he leans down.

Suddenly, you push yourself up on your elbows and look up at him in surprise, “w-what are you–” Before you can even finish your sentence, Eddie licks a stripe up your wet pussy, moaning filthily at your taste.

You gasp, your eyes roll back and you instantly reach for his hair, grabbing it roughly as you feel his tongue on your clit, “o-oh my god!”

He smirks against you, pushing his tongue against you as he eases a finger inside of you.

“H-Holy fuck– Eddie! W-What–”

Your stupid boyfriend never ate you out before, he can tell by your reaction, by the gasps and the moans and the confused look on your face that quickly fades away when he begins to fuck you with his long fingers.

“E-Eddie.. Shit, that feels so good,” you whimper, “please don’t stop, please!” You beg.

Pride rushes through him, he gets to make you feel good, he gets to touch you, he gets to be the first– and last, who eats you out, who tastes you on his tongue, who makes you moan, who makes you feel good.

Eddie feels his cock throbbing in his pants, his heart beating fastly. Too many nights he has dreamed of this.

He moans so loudly against you, sending vibrations through you.

You watch him as he eats you out, as he replaces his fingers with his tongue and fucks you with it, all while he looks into your eyes. No one had ever done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he grunts against you, “gonna take you home and make you sit on my face later.”

Your stomach flutters, your pussy clenches around his tongue and you whimper at both his words and the feeling of his tongue inside of you.

“E-Eddie!”

Your stomach is burning, tears are pricking at your eyes as he sticks his fingers back inside of you all while his tongue is still buried deep inside of your wet cunt.

“Y-You are.. you’re so good, E-Eddie.”

He groans against you, fucking you deeply with his fingers. You cum without a warning, your orgasm crashes over you so suddenly, you are grabbing at his hair and squeezing your eyes shut, holding your breath as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers.

He laps up all your juices, enjoying the way you whimper and squeal when he licks around your sensitive clit, you jolt up and grab his hair tighter, trying to push him away. He chuckles, the look on his face shows you that he is smug about making you cum, knowing damn well that your boyfriend never got to do it.

“Taste yourself,” he says, holding his fingers out for you, “wrap your pretty lips around my fingers, princess.”

You push yourself up and do it, you part your lips for him and he wastes no second to stick them into your mouth. You wrap your lips around his sticky fingers and swirl your tongue around them, putting on a show for the older man, you moan and take them in a little deeper. You know what he thinks about.

He groans and stares at you in awe as he thinks about the way you would look on your knees, how pretty you would look with your lips wrapped around his cock, how your eyes would tear up and how you’d moan.

“Mhmm.”

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You release his fingers with a pop! “fuck me, please..” You whine.

He puts your legs back on the table and pushes himself back up, he grabs your waist and smashes his lips against yours, already addicted to the way your lips feel against his. He pushes the rest of your sleeves down, you help him, taking it off and releasing your breasts as you push the dress down to your stomach.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he cups your boobs, “pretty fucking tits,” he moans as he leans down to kiss them, rolling your nipples with his fingers.

You look so beautiful, sexy, unreal.

“Ah! Eddie.. Please, stop teasing, I want your cock inside of me,” you whine.

His dick is so hard, he feels as though his jeans are about to burst but he can’t help but tease you a little further as he continues to play with your nipples, “how long have you been thinking about this?” He asks.

“I-I don’t know,” you whisper, truthfully. Your mind always took you back to him but you always refused to let those thoughts in. You reach out to him, trying to take his flannel off, he lets you. He drops the red material to the ground but when you reach for the hem of his shirt, he grips your hands and stops you. His eyes flash with vulnerability, “not my shirt, sweetheart.”

You frown as you stare at him, “w-why not?”

He blinks, touching your hands gently, “I got some pretty nasty scars,” he admits.

Oh, Eddie.

“I-I don’t mind,” you whisper, “but you don’t have to show me.”

He smiles at you, pinching your chin, he brings you closer and kisses your lips, “someday, okay?” He says like he already knows that this is no one time thing.

“Okay,” you whisper.

You unbuckle his belt and help him push his jeans and boxers down, eyeing him hungrily. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. Your eyes widen and you can’t even stop the gasp from escaping. Eddie is big. Bigger than your cheating boyfriend. His hair is trimmed, you catch a glimpse of his pale skin on his lower stomach, a sliver of a scar peeking out from beneath his shirt, it makes your heart stop but you tear your eyes away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Y-You’re so big.”

Eddie smirks and cups your cheeks, “it’s okay, baby. I know you can take it.”

You clench around nothing, you feel yourself getting wetter at his words, at his touch, at the look in his eyes.

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you nod hastily.

He smirks, “that’s right, you’re never going back to that prick, I’ll make sure of that.”

You whine and pull him closer, looking down desperately as he finally grabs his dick, sliding it through your dripping folds.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he grunts as watches the way your pussy flutters, he slides it into you slowly, raising his head to look at your face, he keeps one hand on your cheek. The look in your eyes is needy, your face scrunches up in pain as he inches into you. He is concerned but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t enjoy the way you are squirming beneath him.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper in pain as he stretches you open. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks, eyeing you in concern.

You shake your head, “no! No… please don’t stop,” you whisper as you dig your heels into his ass and take him even deeper, making him moan in pleasure, “j-just fuck me, please, fuck me!”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice, he lets you adjust for a moment before he begins to roll his hips. He pulls out and slides back in, easing you into it and when you are finally used to his size and his length, he puts one hand on your hip and the other on your boob as he starts thrusting harsher. His rings dig into your skin but you don’t mind, you like knowing that he will leave marks.

He moans louder and louder, just like you. You both get lost in the feeling, loving the way you feel with each other.

“God, your pussy feels like heaving, y/n,” he moans as he fucks you deeper.

“Y-You too, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” He breathes, smirking darkly, “you like the way I stretch you open, huh?”

“Yes!” You squeal, “I love it!”

He moans as he feels you clenching around him, the movement causes him to fuck you rougher and deeper.

“You needed a real man to fuck you, huh?”

Tears well up in your eyes, you hold him tighter against you and bite your lip as you nod at his words.

“Stupid boy didn’t know how to treat you, how to fuck you properly,” he grunts as he pulls you flush against him so he can kiss you, “I can fuck you better, baby.”

He feels so good inside of you, you feel every vein as he pounds your pussy roughly. His hair tickles your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You never let your boyfriend fuck you without a condom, yet you let him and you would let him, again and again.

“H-Harder,” you whimper.

“Harder?” He chuckles against your lips, “you’re insatiable, little thing.”

He pushes you down, slamming you back against the hard surface, he grabs your legs and places them on his shoulders, looking down at you with a wicked smile as he starts to fuck you from a new angle, one that allows you to feel him even deeper.

Your eyes widen for a moment, a loud squeal leaving your lips as you feel more of him. You grab the edge of the table tightly, tears blur your vision but you still look at up at him, at the older man who fucks you like you always craved to be fucked.

Pleasure takes over his body and awe flashes in his eyes as he stares at you, as he watches his cock pounding into your squelching cunt.

He holds your legs tightly against his chest, he kisses your calves and watches the way your boobs bounce, the way you breathe heavily and grip the table as you moan and cry for him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

He hears your moans, your sweet and sultry voice. It makes his dick throb and his heart soar.

“You look so pretty when you cry.”

Your walls flutter around him, your moans get higher, your eyes threaten to flutter shut but you don’t want to look away from him. He looks so pretty.

He starts thrusting slower but harder and deeper.

Your moans turn into gasps while his turn into needy grunts.

“Feel so fucking good around my cock, so fucking perfect,” he moans, “never letting you go again, gonna make you mine.”

“P-Please…”

“You want that huh?” He smirks, “you want to be mine?”

“S-So bad!”

He knows that your words come from desperation, you are so lost in the feeling, you would tell him anything right now but it still makes his heart flutter.

“Mine, you’re fucking mine now, sweetheart.”

The dark look in his eyes should scare you but it doesn’t, if anything, it brings you closer to the edge, it makes your cunt flutter around him, it makes you crave him even more. Now that you have finally let him in, you will let him do anything.

“Gonna fill you up with my cum, breed your little pussy and make you mine forever,” he grunts as his moans get louder.

He fucks you so roughly, he steals your breath away, you don’t even know what you’re gasping for at this point but when he places his fingers on your clit and rubs it fastly, you cum hard, gushing around his thick cock as he gives a few more thrusts before he cums too, releasing himself inside of you and painting your walls white with his thick cum.

He places your legs back down carefully, not pulling out just yet as he leans down for a kiss.

You whimper and shake, the feeling of his cum inside of you, of his cock still in your pussy sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He claimed you, in so many ways tonight.

He marked you up, he kissed you in a way that made you addicted to him, he came inside of you.

His lips move smoothly and slowly against yours, he touches you gently, sighing softly as he kisses you sweeter than he did before.

“You’re mine now,” he whispers, “forever.”

His words are sweet but there is also something so dark about them and you might love it a little too much.

“I’ll take care of you now, okay?”

“Okay, Eddie.”

#older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #dark!eddie munson

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odinsonslut · 1 year

Text

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n: I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm.

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated.

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued.

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself.

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention.

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond.

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.”

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

2K notes · View notes

bitchlessdino · 1 year

Text

Do it already (m)

Pairing: best friend's brother!Chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, slice of life

Word count: 6.5k

tags: actor!chan, childhood friends!chan, possessive!chan, yearning!reader, plot rich, reader with tits, reader masturbation, kitchen counter sex, reference to drugs, oral (giving and receiving), mouth fucking, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink, unprotected sex. tender love and care

Summary: You and the Lee siblings were like three peas in a pod. That didn't last long when Chan went for his dream and left you and sister to yourselves. That was no problem since she was the best friend you could ever have. Now he's back, hot, fit, oozing sex appeal and you're wondering what it'll take for him to rail you like a train on tracks.

author note: this banner took 3 minutes to make. It's take a lot shorter if i didn't have so many spelling errors. point is this banner is the coolest bc i found a template already premade. it's been a while since i wrote a lengthy chan thing that wasn't just smut so, here you go. enjoy! and thank you to everyone that voted on the poll to make this happen. also, every thought the reader had been once my own, I overindulged once again

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You remember Chan eating dirt at the ripe age of 5. You were the cause of it. You thought it was funny to make a dirt and worms pie with real dirt and worms. You were right. He’s hated you since.

His sister, Chanmi, agreed with you. She thought you were really funny. Chan eventually got over the dirt pie, and found it incomplete without your presence. You became best friends after that and basically followed them everywhere. You always wanted siblings and since mom couldn’t afford to push out anymore, you settled on being fake siblings with the Lees.

Then Chan decided to pursue his dreams when he was 14. That was okay. You had more in common with Chanmi, anyway. His disappearance made you and Chanmi closer. She relied on you and you doted on her. It was a mutual symbiotic relationship. You couldn’t see a life without each other.

You ended up in the same college as well, living across the hall from each other in the same dormitory. Now you really couldn’t see a life without her.

When it was time to graduate, you really worried you’d drift apart by now. When she reassured you wouldn’t, you trusted her word, as she trusted yours when you made that same commitment. It was time to commemorate it, so in came your joint graduation party. Your families and mutual friends had joined together and celebrated the end of an era. You would now go off into a world that you feared more than it would fear you. But you had Chanmi. You couldn’t imagine a better person to do it with.

Chan had hardly crossed your mind in all these years until the very moment he walked through your front door. You could hardly recognize him in the Armani blazer and dress shoes, but it was him. He had the same sharp yet attentive brown eyes since he was a teenager. He was simply all grown up now, as have you. Chan had come to visit a few times in the time he’s been gone but you only ever saw him a brief passing, caught up in your own life.

Once our eyes have landed on him, it’s as if time has stopped. The acting school must’ve done this because his image seemed to be crafted in utter perfection. He was slightly taller than you remember, chiseled than you remember, and the least of all, more handsome than you remembered. You emphasize that you never saw Lee Chan attractive, not once, but here you were, devouring every detail of him.

He saunters over with flowers in his arms–noticeably two bouquets, one full of daisies and another with sunflowers–and stands before you and your best friend with a smile on his face. He congratulates Chanmi, handing her the bouquet of sunflowers and a hug, and within earshot saying how he knew she could do it.

Then came you. The expression on his face is something you’ve never seen him make. It bordered the line of surprised, startled, perhaps aroused, and you don’t know what to make of it. You clenched your legs anxiously before you pushed yourself up from your seat, seeing how much taller he really gotten since. It was funny since you had gotten used to being the taller one in your youth but it seems some of that has changed, along with everything about him.

“Congratulations, Y/n.” He hands you your daisies, unable to tear his gaze from you, fingers brushing against yours as he places them in your hands and electricity flows through you both.

“No hug,” you ask, trying it. His grin gets wider, arms now coming around you, and you feel his larger than life biceps close in a tight embrace. The scent that entered your personal circle now engulfed your senses, blackberries and cream. He smelled sweet, comforting, and if you help it, down right edible.

You sigh, hugging closer, closing your eyes to fully appreciate his warmth and he spoke to a lethally soft tenor, “You’re looking good, Dirt cake. Welcome to adulthood.”

He felt strong and safe, yet left you breathless when he smoothed his hand over your back. You wonder how there can be so much tension in a seemingly platonic gesture. He makes you feel like the only other person to exist, but it ends when he pulls away, and his ghost lingers over your form.

The attention is all on him when his parents see Chan arrive, proud to have gotten the family back together again. Your parents greet him the same, having once known him to be a placeholder of a son they would’ve loved to have. Everyone is joyous.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, the rest of the party or the rest of the night that matter, thinking only what he’d like underneath those clothes. As children, you’ve had your fair share of beach days, pool parties, joint family vacations to rented lake houses, but that was a time when Lee Chan wouldn’t even be considered in your dating pool. You were both children, almost like family at some point, and thinking of him in any manner besides that was icky. So, so icky.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t watch him tear off that blazer and put it away in a closet. His muscles ripple through his expensive dress shirt, sleeves pulled up to cut off at the elbows, revealing blue veins so thick and pulsing you imagine how they’d feel against your tongue at the sight of them. You lie in bed at the thought of them, overwhelmed at the pool it causes between your legs and goes to reclaim your arousal. Your digits languidly follow the trail of their escape and bite on your other pillow to muffle your ache.

Your head throws back into the duvet as you plunge two eager digits in your sopping core. The perfect arch you make goes unnoticed in your lonesome. You pleasure yourself in solitude, when in your mind one other person takes your fingers’ place.

“Cum all over me, sweet angel. I can feel you close.”

He had never uttered those words in his life, at least not you, but can hear them almost as clear as day.

Your hips slew in a circular type motion. Your moans get more curt as you bite hard into the cotton felt. Legs tense up, lifting off the bed, and hushed whimpers are all you communicate as you’re overcome with your release, taking the time for your legs to settle down. Your pulse would take a longer time to process your journey. Chan was still on your mind after all. Along with all the guilt built up from the considered betrayal you’ve made to his sister, your best friend, you were wondering if you could ever face her, or Chan, again.

“Oh my god, when was the last time we were out together like this?”

Chanmi’s enthusiasm combated your desire to hide away forever from guilt. You pick apart your burger, making sure there were no pickles as you’ve requested, and humming content as your message was received. “3-4 years. If you include that lunch, Chan took off in 10 minutes.”

The culprit chuckled, depositing a fry in his mouth. “I'm in high demand. You should be proud to be sitting so close to me.”

Chanmi snickers, shoving a nugget in his face, “Here, shove this in your pie hole.”

He happily accepts the excuse to shut up and enjoys it like it’s the most delicious thing on earth. “Yummy.”

You all laugh at his lighthearted nature and talk as if no time has passed. It’s familiar, warm, but jarring, because seeing you all united together proved that time came with age, and apparently for Chan, a new appreciation for a fully equipped gym.

He’s the same personality-wise, but you can’t help but focus on the physical. Looking at him while talking felt like he had been body swapped with some foreign adonis. You don’t forget the more stylish hair cut he sports, tapering slightly short at his sides and longer up top. He was becoming everything he meant to be.

“How’s shooting,” you curiously ask, “I’m sure it’s really exciting to be working on a bigger project like this.”

Chan took off the middle of your childhood to enroll in a boarding performing arts school. He wanted to pursue acting professionally one day, and he believed the networking and immersion of the curriculum would allow him to hone that skill. He made a pretty penny doing TV commercials in his attendance there, but his senior year he finally got cast in a small film. His mini break.

He played a minor role but got all the perks of a lead, besides the fame. He pushed himself hard to get recognized in his field of work. Corpses on criminal mind-esque shows, taking on five-minute extra characters, becoming a regular on a cable show with a beloved modest fandom, and finally now he’s done it. He was going to be a lead on an online streaming series that would be broadcasted internationally. Although, he hadn’t gotten the male love interest he strived for. He had claimed the role of the second love interest instead, and everyone always loved the second lead more than the first, he rationalized.

“It’s so exciting. Everyone is so talented and cool. I almost can't believe it.” He expresses with an excited glint in his eyes.

“It’s a big deal,” You cover his hand with yours, squeezing it affectionately. “You deserved this.”

You exchange proud smiles at each other. You wish you could feel the warmth from his lips as he lets out a quiet “thank you” as he places his over hand on top of yours. This feels too tender to be real, and you wonder how you could ever have noticed those creased smile eyes in the past.

The moment is interrupted when a text tone goes off and Chanmi claims it. “Oh, gotta go. I have a date.”

Chan rolled his eyes as his giddy sister hops out of her chair, releasing himself from your hands, and they suddenly drop cold. “Can't believe you planned a date in one of the few days I’m in town.”

Chanmi lands a quick peck on your cheeks and sticks her tongue at brother in defiance, scurrying away in a quick farewell and she’s gone behind those double doors of the restaurant. This leaves you three: you, Chan, and the impending arousal that slicks your walls for being alone with him any longer than a second.

“It’s crazy isn’t it,” Chan breaks your silence, “you guys graduating, me being in a lead. It’s so wild how far we’ve come.”

You nod, “It really is. Everything’s different now.”

“Well, besides school, what else has happened? Now’s the time to catch up.”

You hummed, “where do I start?”

Let’s see where you could start.

The moment you walk right through that front door, I cannot stop thinking about your hands on my body how you would press me up against a wall and fuck me senseless, stupid, or just straight up use me until I can’t even remember my own name. It’s been only a few days since I last saw you, but every day since then I thought about you. I touch myself to the thought you. I wondered how you would say my name. I wonder if you would say my name at all. I even wondered what you would want me to call you, if that was even necessary. For you, I would lay my body with only the purpose of fulfilling every one of your desires. I’d have myself milk you until the end of our days.

You kept that to yourself. You were ashamed those words even ran through your mind in the brief moment it did, and you held your breath. “Well, since college is over, I can focus on the internship I got into. It’s a lot less intense than I’m expecting, just waiting for that adrenaline to pick up when it does.”

“You’re so grown up. I can believe I missed that.” There’s so much tenderness and fondness in his eyes.

I could say the exact same about you.

“So, Chanmi’s dating. You seeing anyone lately?”

If I was, they’d be gone the second I saw you.

“No, not really,” you respond, averting your gaze to your drink, “college guys kind of suck if I’m being honest.”

Humor is evident as Chan stifles a laugh, wiping away the reminder of his sandwich away from his face. “That I’ve heard of. Good. You deserve more than a guy just trying to get his dick wet.”

You halt, pleasure churning in your stomach at his vulgar language, hunching over the diner table in anguish. The pool of arousal spreads further. “That’s one way to put it. And you? Anyone caught your eye?”

Please say no. For the love of god and Buddha, say no.

“No luck on my end, either.”

Fuck yes.

“Oh, well, that sucks.”

“I have had a lot of work on my hands, so I don’t really fall into the practice of dating. I guess I’m just taking things as they come”

You nod, completely aligned with him. You didn’t see the point in dating apps if its purpose was only to put you out there in the world. You did plenty of that on your own.

“And sex?” What are you doing?

He snorts, his pearly whites on display. “What about sex?”

Stop before you’re in too deep. “Are you having any?” For Christ's sake.

He bites his lip, amused, taking the last sip from his sprite before setting it aside. “At the moment, no. Why? Are you offering?”

YES.

“No,” you scratch your head, blinking in feign innocence, “just gathering intel to sell to paparazzi before you become a superstar and leave us.”

He crumbles up a napkin, a scrunched up smile on his face, before launching it at you, “You jerk. And no, I’m not fucking anyone.”

God, the way he cusses feels like drugs in my veins.

“Are you asking because you are,” he asks, “are you having sex with someone?”

There’s a sense of childish curiosity in his voice, like peers gossiping about the latest tea, but beneath it is something else. He circles his drink from his hands, eyes locked in place, mouth dropped in a way that screams ‘I dare you to answer’ and how his jaw tenses up after immediately asking, sets a fire into your inner thighs.

You let out a suffocated breath, pinching the skin of your thigh to snap you back into reality before the heat in his gaze singed your mouth shut. “Nope.”

He hums, relief grazing his harsh brows. “Not hung up on anyone?”

“No. Need an ex to be hung up with someone,” you quickly answer, before the bitter taste of regret stings your tongue.

“Interesting.”

You narrow at him. “What's so interesting about it?”

You want me. Just say it so I can lunge across this table to get to you.

“I haven’t seen you in years and you’re beautiful, smart, single. It doesn’t sound right.” He answers with a shrug.

Call me beautiful one more time. I will suck your dick right now under this table. I don’t care about being caught.

“There’s not really a reason, it’s just how it is. And maybe I’m not looking. Considered that?”

The only person I’m looking at is right in front of me—God, I can smell your cologne from here. Fuck. I want to devour you.

“Maybe, but me personally, I’d sweep you up before any guy could get the chance.” He chuckles.

Then do it. Stop teasing me.

“Chanmi would probably kill me tho. Probably say it’d ruin our dynamic.”

Oh shit. Here you were, lost in a head fogged up with lust and you hadn’t considered your best friends seeing you get shacked up with her brother. You were betraying her every second you though about her brother in a lewd sense. Although, she made no indication she’d be bothered by such a thing, but who wouldn’t? You weren’t going to let yourself off on a technicality.

“Don’t think we have much to worry about, though. I think we’ll be just fine.”

His words were like an anchor dropped in your gut. You didn’t know what was worse. Messing around with your best friend’s brother or the possibility of him rejecting the idea before it even started. You lose feelings in your legs, exhaling through your nose, and cry a little on the inside. You force an agreeing smile on your face. “Yeah. Chanmi doesn’t have to worry about anything.”

The meal comes to a close and you tell Chan you should get going home and he insists on driving. You were insane if you were going to spend another second in his presence, knowing fully well how he made you feel. He’s basically rejected you. It was over. Quit trying.

“Let me know if the AC is too cold. I can turn it down.”

You were that insane.

“All good.”

You sit in silence. The radio envelopes the air and you interlock your hands in discomfort, while Chan focuses on the road. It's not a long drive from your place, but it sure felt like it was. But it gave you all the time to reflect. You needed some of that. Maybe you could get your common sense back.

Of course, Lee Chan wasn’t going to fall for you. Not like this. Maybe if you and his sister weren't attached at the hip, it’s possible. But then again, he would be living a life of fame, the spotlight, other people way hotter and more suitable for him. Face facts.

“So, since you haven’t dated anyone, I’m assuming you’re a virgin.”

Oh. He was going to keep going.

“Um, not quite,” you chuckle nervously.

He raises a brow. “So, you lied to me.”

You shake your head, “Of course not. I’m not having sex right now with anyone or a single person consistently, if that’s what you were saying, but I’ve had sex.”

“Did you?”

Something in his tone makes you want to turn your head to his side. You don’t regret your decision seeing the whites of his knuckles as he grips the wheel. His voice may have sounded friendly, but he held himself taut, visibly restraining himself.

Oh, Chan.

“Yeah. I didn't consider them exes, just flings,” you thought to add.

“Flings.” He repeats.

You grin to yourself. “Yeah. I think a few times in high school and then a few more in college.”

“My, my. Aren’t you all grown up now?” You can almost hear him gritting his teeth, and you relished in it.

“Well, this is me.” You point at the building Chan forces himself to park at. He tightens his jaw in view, tapping the leather of the wheel in contemplation. Possibly at the revelation you’ve revealed to him. You lean in where your face comes into view, smiling an innocent smile. “Want to come in, Chan?”

You can see the dilemma in his eyes. There's a war going on his brain and either way, he was losing. Inevitably, he helps you unbuckle his seat before deciding to do the same thing to him. He plays your game with a humorless smile. “Why not?”

When you’re finally alone in the comfort of your home, it took everything in you to not jump him right then and there. His eyes scan over your living area, taking in the kick knacks, the tchotchkes you bought over time. It was as if he was rediscovering you, all of you, and for some reason, that made you more nervous than anything else. But that meant he was curious about you. He wanted to know more past what he saw as a child. He wanted to see you.

He snorts, crossing his arms, eyes finally landing on you. “I like your apartment. Am I the only guy you brought here you haven’t fucked?”

That could change.

You shrug, gallantly walking further and further away from him. “I don’t usually bring people over here. If I’m hooking up, it’s usually at their place.”

You let him watch. His eyes trained on your walk, a resisted urge tempted in every step you take. “You know that’s incredibly dangerous, right?”

“Anymore dangerous than letting them know where I live?” you retort.

He saunters over to you, side grinning in challenge. “Why are you trusting towards me?”

“Because,” you mimic his arms, “We have nothing to worry about. You said so.”

He glares down at you, taking one step closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever do you mean, friend?”

He cocks his head, “You’re really testing your luck aren’t you, Y/n?”

You shrug, an obvious grin on your face, “I’m not testing anything. Exactly what are you implying?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n. You don’t want to find out what happens.”

“That’s funny,” now you’re the one backing him in a corner, pushing him, showing him, knee his shins until his fingers grip back in the arm of a couch, saying words you only ever dared to think, “Maybe don’t be a coward and fuck me already.”

His breath noticeably hitches and drinks in your assertion and feeds you back tenfold, pushing himself off the couch and colliding your lips, and a shock of immense arousal takes over your body. Goosebumps pebble your skin and involuntarily you moan in the lip lock, taking you longer than necessary to realize that Chan has backed you against a wall.

Your hand crawls into his hair, pushing him down to deepen your kiss as his hard member prods at your stomach. Hands run down to catch him, his clothed cock in your hands, feel how the zipper of his pants constricts him from taking up any more space, and you help spring him free.

“All this fat cock all for me? Chan, you shouldn’t have,” you playfully comment.

“It's what you wanted, isn't it?” He thrusts up against you, hiking up your leg to dig into your already pulsing core. “You want me to want you. To fuck you? Is that it?”

“Yes.” You answer definitely. “I want you to want me so bad it hurts. Just as badly as I want you.”

“It’s not some addiction you have? Move on from one fuck thing to the next?” He questions, venom on his tongue. He speaks with doubt, but his body defies him, drawn to you like opposing ends of a magnet, in need of you as much as you were in need of him.

“I don’t say things I don't 100 percent mean, Chan. If I wanted to just fuck you, I’d do it already.” You squeeze around him slightly tighter, wrapping your fingers around strands of his hair harder, hearing that stuttering grunt of his to reveal itself. “There's fucking, and then there’s you, Chan. I don’t just want to fuck you. I want to worship you.”

You catch a glimpse of his reaction to your startling response before lightly shove him off of you to get on your knees, scraping them against the textured wood. Lowering yourself gave a good view of the shift in his eyes, watching how they go from pure animosity to earth shattering enthrallment. Your hands come up to his hips, fingering from the waistband of his briefs and pulling it down with his pants, just to push it aside. His cock is big, hard, veiny, perfect to push down your throat.

You wrap your fingers around his girth, fingers trailing over his veins, counting the estimated inches. Disappointment didn’t even cross your mind.

“You have such a pretty, pretty cock,” you gasp, “have you thought about it? My lips wrapped around your cock. I know I have.”

Chan’s bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth. His eyes dilate as your lips purse over the curve of his tip, kissing the slit. His mind then settles on your previous words, wondering what they entail. “Worship? With that kind of offer, I’d hate to refuse. What about you?”

“What about me?” His shaft hugs the curve of your cheek.

“If you’ll worship me, what’ll happen to you?”

Your smile stretches across your face before kissing his length between speeches. “Well, if you let me. I’ll be all yours. Your tits”—kiss—“ass,”—kiss—“your pussy,”—“your mouth. I’ll be all yours.”

Chan can’t help but smile with you. His hand finds a way to thread through your hair, getting a good angle tug, and ripping a flirtatious giggle from your lips. “I get all that? Deal of the century.”

You hum in agreement before you feel him hug the inside of your mouth, fluttering your eyes at his size. Your tongue runs along his skin, taking it calmly, slowly. You make sure you’re breathing from your nose, savoring every second.

Chan breathes out controlled breaths, boring his lust driven gaze into your presence. His cock is more than pleased in your hot, wet mouth coating him in drool Your sweet, swollen lips were like the cherry on top of sundae. They were gloriously full and glossy getting him off. “Your lips are perfect around me. And this mouth is mine, you say?”

You nod as you bob down, not expecting him to thrust inside you, flinching against the wall. He puts either hand on either side of your head, holding you in place. Your eyes shut tight, feeling him twitching in your throat before pulling out. A ribbon of translucency stretches from your lips to his head.

“My pretty, little mouth.”

There is a darkness in which he stares at you, like releasing of pandora’s box. He was lost in power, greed, filth. Whatever it was, you were ready for more and you didn’t mind what it took. He pets your hair, dragging his fingers from root to tips, saying his scary final words before he fills your cheeks more with his cock. “Cherish that last breath. You’ll need it.”

Your head stays pinned to the wall, cock plunged in your mouth, the view of Chan’s unfailing erection and groin the only sight you’re able to take in this moment of suffocation. He wasn’t slow with it and he didn’t plan to be. Groaning, his hips push in your mouth, the back of your head hitting the wall behind you with every thrust, and the length flossing the pipe of your throat. You become a makeshift version of a glory hole. Your hands steady themselves on his hips until they are forced to pin above your head.

You wretch at his sheer force, but take every inch. Your tears burn your cheeks, feeling the tremble of your limbs. You cough, gag, swallowing him as you’re pushed past your normal limits and finally meet the base of his cock. He rams in you, lips to lap, mouth stretched and sore. Full didn’t even begin to describe how it felt for him to fuck your mouth like this.

He shows mercy when he feels close, thrusting in all the way and holds in your mouth for an exact five seconds until he lets you go. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribble all over your chin and neck, but a dazed smile on your face despite the mess. A hand to your neck, he pulls you up from the ground, pressing you full bodily back in the wall.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty fucking whore.” he hisses.

His hand invades the depths of your pants. Your sopping folds are easy to find as they coat his fingers like syrup, sweet and thick. “Pussy’s mine, hmm? Ass too?”

“Yes. yes, take all of me.” You impulsively part your legs, the gateway of your throat closing up as his grip gets tights. All the stars you were seeing shined brighter than the stars in the damn sky.

Chan tugs off your bottoms, throws it aside like garbage and lifts you on top of a kitchen counter. The cool marble stings your ass cheeks but you hardly notice as Chan nose deep in your pussy. His fingers dig deeper, tongue flicking starved at your entrance. “Sweet Jesus, you’re fucking wet. Fucking dripping down my arm.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Chan.” Your leg hangs off his shoulder, feeling light as his tongue makes himself home in your warmth. “I want you, every part of you.”

They were more than enough words of encouragement as he’s lost in your thighs. The curve of his lips suck on your clit, eliciting a moan and would forever be ingrained to every wrinkle of his brain. His fingers–now down to his knuckles–traveling you at an unforgivable pace. He makes it known that he’d give you what you want, anything and everything in between, but he wouldn’t give you his patience.

His hand comes down at you hard on the center of your core, rubbing between every strike as he licks deep stripes, causing your whines of ache to grow louder. “More, Chan please. Touch my pussy more, like that.”

Your pain receptors could usually take so much pain, but with Chan, you’d sacrifice your nerves just to have him cum covering every inch of your body.

Swiftly, he reveals his upper body. Taut, firm muscles, packed in every region. Gleaming with sweat, his honey glazed abs flexes from the tension in his stomach. God, it was better than you ever imagined.

You watch as his strong arms pull you closer in his mouth. He latches on you like a leech, draw circles, finger fucking you until you’re drawing out his name in short bursts. Your jaw drops slack, clenching around his tongue, and pressing himself against you until you’re close. Oh, so close.

He pulls off at the worst moment and before you could protest, you taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling him pull off your blouse in the process. Tits in either of his hands, he roughly squeezes them, pinching tight at your stiff peaks enough for you to let out high pitched screeches. “Chan hurts!”

“Good.” He takes one in his mouth, nibbling one in his teeth before pinching the other one just as hard as before. You’re stuck between pain and pleasure, but as liquid escapes past your legs and the victor is clear.

“My tits…taste so sweet…like honey.” he mumbles.

You feel loved, worshiped, wet. You were wrapped around his finger, and if you get to be soe lucky, he’d feel that same way about you. After he’s done swelling your skin, he’s escorting you to what clearly is your room despite the first time of him being there and he dumps you on the bed.

“Ass in front, right now.”

Promptly, you do as he says, getting on all fours on the bed, lifting your ass welcome for him to take.

“Spread wider. I want to see that pretty pussy.”

Your legs naturally part further, the pigment of your sensitive flesh clear on display. Chan takes initiative. Putting himself between your divide, his tongue finding that familiar sweetness he parted with only a few minutes ago. “You taste so fucking good. I forgot all about saying that while in there earlier. You seem to do that to me.”

His hands come over the flesh of your ass, the sting of his hand is momentary before his tongue’s presence takes over, tasting you, inhaling you delicious scent, “Condom?” He manages to breathe out.

You shake your head, perspiration trailing your forehead. “But I’m clean, and on the pill. Like I said, you can do anything with me.”

Chan is blown over with a sense of relief, fishing his erection before lining up at your slit. He takes full strokes inside you, achingly slow, and you quiver at the fullness but whine when you’re immediately empty. He does that repeatedly, giving you the sensation before he rips it from you in mere seconds.

Yo pound your frustrated fists in the mattress. “Chan give me your cock… I want you please..”

“Really, Is it me you want?” He teases, “Or it is my cock fucking so deep in your pussy you feel it in your mouth?”

Vivid images in your head, you shudder at the depth of his now husky voice, “I want that from you. Only you. Please, I want you to cum in me…”

“Shit.” Hearing that made close already. “F-fine. Just shut the fuck up.”

He thrust in you, finding a pace to reside in. His mouth makes an o-shape at the clench of your wall. “Fuck wet pussy,”—slap—“wet, tight. All for me.”

Chan recalling your moans laced with ecstasy. Hearing you, watching the recoil of your ass hitting his lap, it was something he could get used to, but he could try. He forces his knees on the bed, pushing deeper inside you. He finds your hair before pulling, pushing you into to the mattress and muffling your moans until they melt into an oblivion.

“That reminds me,” he thinks to bring up, not minding the fact you were drowning in the duvet, “what is it you like being called?”

You muffle a response but if you were being honest, you could hardly think with his weight pushed back into you.

“Come on. What is it? Pick your poison.” He slows his pace, a hard, deep stroke taken with every term of endearment, “Baby? Sweetheart? Angel?”

You moan, but not enough.

He blinks, thinking it’s going somewhere when a light bulb goes up in his head. “Mmh, let's try this then. Clench harder, slut.”

You moan even louder, immediately following his command. He then pounds harder in you, lacking any clear remorse as his language becomes grunts, calling you ‘slut’, ‘whore,’ ‘fuckhole,’ every name in the book until you buck at his hips.

Shake as hard as an earthquake, saying his name, speaking your orgasm into existence. It’s all you feel as your vision becomes further away from the comprehensive. You become a lifeless body that takes every second as if you never would again, collapsing on the bed.

Chan, a man with solutions, flips you on your back. A leg of yours comes up on his chest, ankle over his shoulder and he bottoms out inside you, another tidal wave that jumpstart your adrenaline. “I’m not fucking done with you yet. You said you’d be mine and you will be for as long as I want.”

Your leg takes his side as he folds into you, lips messily meeting yours, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, he takes you even deeper and your way to feel can't be described as anything else but bliss. You caress his face, while his hand reconnected with your neck. You’re trailing down to feel down his torso, the pads of his fingers pushing against the column of your neck tighter. Life leaving your body, you count each ab, cup each peck, palm over each stiff peak, and trace over each muscle. If you could leave earth by this method, you would. Your voice is raspy, but takes no break from praising him.

“You’re fucking my pussy so good, feel so fucking good in my hands. Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”

“You like that,” kissing you in a curt repetitive action, sweeter than intended, “can you take…my…cum?”

“Yes,” you frantically nod, “cum in me. I want all your cum in me. Breed me please. I want you, only you, to fuck me, empty out in me, and repeat.”

His load is as warm as a home cooked meal, shooting in you, jerking into your body in a well-practiced motion. His body embraces you, closing in on you, while he tucks you in tight. You only remember the smile on his face when he cums. It looks like love in his eyes, warmth, and you are positive that that’s what it is because you're looking at him the same way. It feels like a perfect happy ending.

But nothing is over until Chan says it is over.

That day turned into night before you know it and all you’ve done is be in each other arms and fucking your shared cum back into places they belong. Despite the performance, Chan ended up being a gentleman, asking you where your spare clean towels were and helping you clean up the mess you’ve made. All the time and energy drained you both and with the lack of motivation to cook, you both called food to be delivered.

In an attempt to be presentable, you take the shirt he once wore and display it on yourself, his scent enveloping you like it were his embrace. That meant Chan had to walk around topless, and by George, that was quite the sight. You join him on the couch. His arm slings over your side, tenderly kissing your face as you feel up his body. You couldn’t help but grin like a love stricken puppy, memorizing every dent of every chiseled muscle, appreciating its entirety. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Chan hums, before muffling a thanks and taking your kiss-swollen lips in his. “I think you’re sexy.”

You giggle, reciprocating, already finding yourself straddling his lap, and that erection that’s already gone and inflated himself. This man had it all didn’t he?

Then it dawned on you. Maybe too late, but it did.

You part from him, eyes furrowed in worry.

Concern is written all over his face, and he curls your hair behind his ear, “what’s wrong?”

“What are we going to do about Chanmi?”

His expression soon matches yours as he sighs. His hand comes behind your head, kissing foreheads, and curls up in a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for us.”

“And If she isn’t?”

His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt. “She’ll just have to.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“And she’s my sister. And I’m her only brother. We are two people she cares about and we’re happy together. Why wouldn’t she be happy?”

Your lips curl up in a small smile. “We’re together?”

His smile reaches his eyes. “I don’t think I’d spend all day like this with you if we weren’t.”

You kiss him, chaste and slow, and letting go before the heat travels back to your head, fogging your rationale. “I like you a lot, Chan.”

“I like you a lot, Y/n.”

“What about your career?”

He rolls his eyes, filling rubbing circles in your hips. “Why? Scared this superstar will run away from you for his chance in the spotlight?”

You grin mischievously, “No, aren’t you worried I’ll outshine you on the red carpet? I’ll be your date for every one of them now.”

“Then they’ll have no choice but to put me in everything under the sun.” He grins back.

2K notes · View notes

lizsos · 5 months

Text

Do I ?

Summary : team BEBE joins sfw2 bada cant help but notice how all the leaders are falling for you so she starts to question herself if she likes you

Genre : fluff , smut

g!p bada x reader

Your Aren't the youngest in team bebe .

Heck , your basically older than most of the girls except bada. It was your personality that made people think your younger than your actual age . You easily lit up any room with your cheerful and bubbly mannerism .

Bada always thought that her teammates are cute babies that she had to take care of ,but you in particular were different than the rest of the girls . Where she takes the role of an older sister for the rest of her members .

It was strange for her, team Bebe is a new team . It started with her gathering some students that she thought were fit for joining the competition . Were she , Lusher and Tatter were close because of their joined proformance for Kai , and the others were students from her classes , y/n was chosen to join the group because Young J recommend her to Bada .

At first Bada was skeptical, the girl looks very merk and shy , she saw her a couple of times talking with other members of Just Jerk while passing . But she didn't really believe that the girl is actually one of the famous instructors there .

But the moments that Bada joined one of her class , she was blown away

The girl can dance for sure

Compered to her innocent and cute looks , her dance was the complete opposite . Every move and every step that she takes looks very sensual and seductively. It makes her heart clench for a second then it recovers . That felt weird for her . She didn't know how to explain it but she knew she was in completely and utterly captivated by the sight in front of her .

The rest is history for them . After she finished gathering the rest of the members, the girls became very close quickly, some of them already knew each other from dancing classes together .

Bada is the playful and strict leader . Meanwhile Lusher took the role of the sub-leader who was always there to fill bada's shoes whenever she has some business anywhere . Tatter ,kyma , and cheche are the energisers and sowoen is the quite maknae , that leaves y/n as the team bebes unofficial maknae .

Why do you say that ? Well since you're a very clingy individual, you are always seen at least clinging onto someone thg you trust . So its normal to see you hugging while talking to the girls your smile itself can easily brighten up the room and its not rare to see you listening to the girls ramble , always with bright smile on your face . The girls really did adore you .

Bada wasn't an exception . Youw ere particularly clingy to her since she was older and she seems to like taking care of you . She sometimes buys you food or even takes you home whenever your practice runs late .

The girls had a suspension that their leader had a crush .

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This was enough proof that the work payed off , cuz team bebe were invited to join Mnet newest dancing show . They finally have the chance to join the biggest dancing show in Korea and prove themselves , both to the dancing community and also the rest of the world .

Entering the fight zone , the members of the team bebe is actually the first team to enter . Sounds of excitement and amazement filled the big room , when team bebe enters , The stage has really improved compared to season 1 .

Bada walks in with y/n latched to her arms . Looking around in awe at the view in front of her , their team banner hanging on top of the wall .

"This looks really fun right ?" Y/n whispered to badas ears , slightly tugging downwards to actually be able to whisper to her .

Bada smiles in response, her heart with that same feeling again , the feeling that she still can't figure about, she shrugs it , and focuses on the younger girl gesture and expression.

Not long after the screen infornt of them turns on , playing what seems to be other teams commentary of team bebe .

"They're just bada copycats"

"Being badas student is their career"

"If they don't watch it , it'll start and end with bada "

This comment continued coming from each team , that lead to the members faces immediately turning sour after hearing the statements of other teams .

Even y/n has a frown on her pretty face .

They glanced at her before going to their designed seat . Sowoen ,Cheche,Kyma and minah on the second bleacher while Lusher , Tatter , y/n and bada on the front . Team bebe shows their frustration at being bad mouthed. All of them being quite .... awfully quite

" don't worry guys ... we'll prove them wrong right?" A bright voice rang out of y/n grinning at them , trying to lift up the mood . Grabbing the banner from badas head and waving it at them . After seeing that they have cheered up , she goes to put it back badas head , not forgetting to pat it lightly making the leader smile a little at the sweet gesture .

Soon after , the rest of the teams began to come one by one . And seats being finally complete, the door in the stage coming out of it kang Daniel. The room breaks into cheers after seeing the legendary hosts of the show .

"Whahh ..... two seasons in a row" somone from the crowd said .

"Its finally starting" . Another one said

"Hello . Welcome to Mnet original show ,Street Woman Fighter 2 . I'm your host Kang Danial , now let's welcome the judges for this season "

Monika of PROWDMON , monsta X shownu , and Mike songz of Kinjaz came out and went to their seats. Cheers could be heard throughout the room, each member fangirling over the judges .

Y/n wasn't an exception . When monika was called , she screamed as load as she can making the rest of team bebe shocked never have they seen her scream this load .

" I LOVE YOU MONIKAAA!" Her screams can be heard by everyone there .

Bada feels a small burn of jealously burn through her , never actually seeing the younger girl being g this excited over someone else before . "Ive had the biggest crush on her ever since I watched season 1 " y/n excitedly tells her members "its a dream to be able to see her in real life . Someone please pinch me"

Her last comment made her recive a pinch on her side , courtesy of Tatter excited to be able to annoy the older girl

"Owww... it hurts " y/n pouted .

"Well you asked for it . I just followed your order " Tatter gives her unnie a teasing grin.

After sometime they were finally given a break time to change into their clothes into a more battle appoprite .

Following her members to their waiting g room, y/n walks with bright smile, now hugging tatter , as she tries to annoy her for actually pinching her before.

Bada just walks behind the rest fo her members, happy that hey are in this together. She can't think of joining this show with other people.

They have finally finished changing and finishing up their makeup ,and now they were making their way back to the fight zone . Y/n was wearing a simple outfit consisting of a light blue baseball Jersey with a crop top underneath it and a white cargo pants , trying to show off her team color.

"The first battle is the (No respect) battle of the weakest" kang Daniel announced. He then began to explain the rules for the battle , making some of the girls look at their own no-respect sticker , wondering who gave them that .

"First to battle is 1 million redy"

Redy than comes out of her seat going around each teammfor a quite some time , knowing that her comments during the first video has really offended team bebes leader .

"The first person that I have no respect for is Bada from team bebe" redy said , moving towards team bebe section . Hearing that bada immediately stands up from her seat quite pissed at redy . The rest of the girls stood up from their seats to hype up their leader .

"I don't respect you that's it " redy shrugged , both of them facing each other ? "Not redy ... but soo Bin ! You're still an eight grader to me " bada snapped back ,hearing her respond the other teams scream hypes for the battle knowing the history between them .,

"Redy began to dance , her body moving along the rather of the song ,bada just looked at her while smirking , nothing how redy uses the same moves as before. She thought that this was going to be an easy since her opponent hasn't really improved from their younger days .

After redy stopped dancing , the music began to change . Bada stared to dance she walks over to redy , pointing out their obvious height difference and a form of taunting . Seeing her moves , the girls began to scream loving the confidence that bada has . A certain girl from bebe has become shy in particular, seeing another side of her leader as she saw her grind the air and showcasing sexual moves, a permanent blush seems to stuck on her face .

After bada finished dancing , she glanced at her team , notching one of them seems to blushing , smirking inside , she went to stand again inthe center of the stage waiting for her battle result

"Judges card open"

The three judges open their cards to show a 3 blue cards for team bebe insinuating that the Leader has won the battle . Team bebe began to scream in excitement when bada arrives at her spot , Tatter goes to put the Winner badge on their board , while bada goes to put the loser badge on 1 millions board .

The rest of the battle then continues with some them being drama-heavy . It wasn't long before y/n eard her name being called out to enter the fight zone . Tackimg the mic she decided to walk around , looking at the people around her ,whispers could be heard among the contestants,. "Shes really pretty she could pass as an idol " Capri whispers to Biggy . The girl nodding to her comment , not believing that there are a lot of pretty girls this season .

"She looks cute . I wonder how she will dance " Kirsten said to the members of jam Republic . "Yeah , she has the same vibe as Audrey, sweet and innocent " ling nodded agreeing to her . "Its rare to see you invested babe" ling said as she nudged kirsten. "What ?? No , I'm just curious about her I havent seen her dance yet " Kristen trys to defend herself "hmm .... sure , whatever helps you sleep at night" latrice decided to join in .

Their gaze simultaneously drifted to you when they hear you talk .

"The dancer that I don't have respect for is Chocol" y/n called out , making the room shout in surprise . "Waaaaa . No way ! I know I have no guts to call someone out from WolfLo " harimu screamed

"She really has some guts " mina myoung nodded at the small girl sitting next to her .

Chocol then nodded and got inside the battle zone , nodding to the younger girl " its not that I don't respect you unnie , I heard alot about you so I wanna see for myself " y/n said " Well I won't disappoint you then " chocol winked at her playfully making the younger girl blush , suddenly felling shy from the girls charm

Standing up to try getting a clearer view of her battle , bada silently watches the scene infront of her , the rest fo the bebe girls decided to follow along their leader to the side of the stage to watch their favourite member.

"Ready ? Fight ! " kang Daniel said . The music starting right after .

Chocol get to dance first she lets her body move along the beat . Her style was bery groovy and relaxed compered to the other dancers that she saw previously . Y/n just standed at the side watching seriously, face flat , trying to cover her excitement at seeing chocol cool moves . Without realising it , y/n is surprised that chocol is moving forward , body moving closer to her . Suddenly the both of them are face to face , h/n tried to step back , her body moving on its own . Chocol just smiles at her and blows a kiss her before moving back to the center and doing a flashy move before the timer runs out

Y/n is left there in surprise. Cheeks redder than tsubakill colo , trying to hide her face with her hands . The music then changed and she prepared herself . Removing her hands from her face , her expression immediately changed from its previously embarrassed state to looking cold and fierce .

As angles of Tibet by Amaarae started playing she began to jump a little

( your preformance )

You began to make your hips to the rythem hitting every beat , hips moving . Your gaze remained fierce , not giving any fucks to your surrounding , while staring at Chocol with cold eyes. Surprising the crowd around her , not expecting the bubbly shy girl to be dancing this way looking intimidating. She continued her dance with passion shaking her ass at chocol at the end . "Three two one . Battle over " Daniel said into the mic .

Y/n then stopped her movement. Throwing her gaze to her team who are screaming at her excitedly waving their arms to cheer her one . Both she and chocol move to the center waiting for the battle result . "Judges card open " danila announced.

The shy girl , covers her face with her hands , anticipating the result of her battle . The judges then open their cards showing all thee blue cards . The girl gasped in shock not believing she's able to beat such a strong dancer. Especially one that's really hard to beat .

"Y/n really surprised me . To be honest I wasn't really expecting much at the begging , but after seeing her dance I've stared to wonder how come I've never seen her before . Your moves are really fun to watch especially the details in it and the power behind it ." Monika said

"It was a really close battle to be honest " Mike started " y/n really showed us that unique kind of dance that is rarely done and even Chocol showed us the basics of hiphop and how not everyone can pull it off "

Y4n bowed to the judges after hearing their comments , happy and shocked at the same time after listening to the results she goes to face Chocol who smiled at her "its a pleasure to battle with you" y/n bowed

"Its a Pleasure to be dancing with such a beautiful and talented women " Chocol winked and went to hug her placing her arms around the girls waist . Surprised at the unexpected gesture , y/n just squeaked in response and after sometime she goes to uwarp her arms away from the girls neck . Their hug ended. And the girls went back to their teams , one with a smirk on her face and the other one why a shy redded face and a shy smile .

Upon getting closer ,team members wore a teasing smirk on their faces , ready to bully the shy older girl . What she didn't notice is one face that frowning and glaring at the figure of the wolflo members .

Yah, Unnie, what is that?" Tatter exclaimed at the girl in shock. Not believing her eyes that her shy and small unnie can dance that sexy. "And the hug too, are you perhaps flirting with Chocolunnie?" Minah added, gazing questioningly at the girl in front of her. This seems to make the leader frown deepens upon hearing

the younger girl question, questioning herself ( Do i like y/n ?)

"What? No!" Y/n denied the accusation immediately, crossing her arms into an X to further prove her point. "It's just heat of the moment I'm sure.' They goes back to their respective seat. Y/n choosing to cling to Lusher, seeing as the girl hasn't made a move to tease her. After watching battle after battle, they are finally done with filming for today. The teams are going to their waiting room and preparing to go back home, tired after a long day of filming.

The girls of Bebe follow along, moving up the stairs and walking to their room, chatting quietly along the way. After resting and packing their bags, the girls all walk together outside. Their steps are soon stopped by a silver-blonde haired girl that calls Y/n, "Hey, Y/n right?" Kirsten approached the Bebe group. "Huh? Yeah, hi, nice to meet you" Y/n replied in English. "Im Kirsten, nice to meet you guys!" she cheerfully introduced herself to the rest of Bebe, "Anyways, I'm realy surprised with your dance move earlier and would like to congratulate you for winning that battle, it's definitely a cool battle to watch" Kirsten complimented.

The shh said girl blushed after hearing her comments, not used to being praised, especially by a very talented dancer. "Ah, not really, I'm really glad that you enjoyed the battle. Your battle is really cool too, I want to learn your dance style for sure," she complimented, giving Kirsten bright smile to support her statement. "Haha... thank you for your compliment. I'll make sure to teach you some move in the future" "Well, I'l be going now, see you later guys!" Kirsten waved to the rest of the Bebe girls and blowing a kiss to Y/n "Bye pretty!"

The girls immediately teased Y/n after Kirsten figure disappear from their sight. "Wow, Y/n the Ladies Collecter," Cheche commented, making the rest of the girls burst out laughing with the exception of their leader and a blushing Y/n. "It's not like that guys, she's just being friendly" Y/n try to defend herself.

"Uh huh... friendly" Kyma makes a teasing gesture. The rest of them then walk outside, going to their respective vehicles, teasing Y/n along the way. The still quiet Leader finally speak up after the whole thing, "Y/ n, do you need a ride home?" she asked. "Yes, if it didn't bother you" the said girl answer, going to cling herself to Bada's arm, missing the unusually quiet girl touch after being ignored throughout the shooting.

"Okay... Bye girls, take care!" Bada announced to the rest of the girls, walking with Y/n that's still latching on her arm towards her car. Going to the passenger side first, and opening the door for Y/n, taking her bag before making Y/n enter the car. The smaller girl smile and thanked her for her actions. Going to close her door, Bada then went to open her car trunks and putting both her bag and Y/n bags inside before closing it and going inside the driver seat.

Bada started the car before driving . She gave Y/n her phone to play songs, knowing that she likes listening to music , Y/n just takes the phone, entering the password before opening spotify and choosing a calm song, God's forbid she can't hear any more hype songs after today long shooting. Both girls stay quiet during the drive, having thoughts in their minds for today events. Bada decided to end their silence, "How are you feeling?", Snapped out of her trance, Y/n goes to answer the question of the oreo haired girl, "Im fine. It's just very exhausting. I can't believe how exhausting it is to film this show" the smaller girl groaned out, lips turning into a pout. Chuckling at her response, Bada took a quick glance at the cute girl beside her. "Yeah, I mean, I didn't expect to watch so many dance battle's in a day".

"I know right?" the smaller girl pout deepens. "But it's still fun to meet so many new people" Hearing her response, Bada mood turns sour again, remembering how many girls flirted with Y/n throughout their shoot. She didn't like the fact that people are flirting with her girl. Well, not her girlfriend exactly, but Y/n is hers. The girl frown at her thoughts, she didn't like Y/n right? or did she .

After today events, she's starting to think that she has been denying her feelings for the smaller girl. The realization hits her like a truck. Wow, she really likes the girl beside her. Not long after they arrived in front of Y/n apartment. The girl thanked Bada for the ride before going to get out of the car. "Thanks for the ride unnie" she smile widely at Bada, giving her a close eyed smile. She then closed the door and move into her apartment. Realizing that the girl forgot her bag in the trunk, Bada turns off her car, getting the girls bag from the trunk and went to follow her. Pressing the number to her floor, Bada went out and press the bell to the girls room. Not long after she heard footsteps

approaching and the door opening. "Bada-unnie, why are you here? Did you need something?" the h/c haired girl asked, confused on why her leader is in front of her door. "Im here to give you your bag" she showed the bag that is slung over her shoulder, " You forgot it in the trunk". "Thank you so much" Y/n takes the bag that Bada handed to her before moving forward to hug the taller girl. Arms wrapping around her waist before going to release herself from the hug,mher movements is stopped by Bada arms wrapping around her.Tucking her chin on top of the girl head, and hugging her closer. Both girl just sigh in comfort, the hugs seems to take away all their stress of filming. "I love you, Y/n" Bada suddenly blurted out.

Shocking both herself and the girl that she was hugging. Releasing herself from the hug, Bada quickly composed herself and take a hold of the surprised girl hands. "Ive always liked you ever since I met you .

You were kinda shocked from what bada just said but something about that made you feel relived so you answered her back " I love you to bada unnie " bada responded to your answer by pulling you by the neck and kissing , you immediately, kissed her back

Bada was satisfied by finally tasting your lips . Bada slowly pulled away from the kiss and said " how about I show how much I love y/n " in a slow sudctive voice . You were kind of surprised with how bada said that but you answered her "please bada "

Bada couldn't stop herself anymore she kissed you one more time but this time more rough , she pushed her tongue in your mouth and carried you to your apartment and closed the door behind her .

"Please be rough bada " bada was kind of suprised by your comment but she didn't complain

"Anything for you princess" she said but soon said

"on your knees," Bada's jaw was clenched, palms flat against the door, effectively trapping you in. Scoffing, you tugged on her shirt yanking her closer to you, "why don't you make me?" You could almost see the shocked expressionon badas face , "so you're playing that game, huh? fine, have it your way." Was the last thing she uttered before you were pushed down to your knees, a large veiny hand tangled in your roots as you winced in pain.

"ow! Bada− it took me like 3 hours to style my hai−" you were cut off by your bada's hardened length slapping against your cheek, effectively shutting you up. "I don't want to hear your blabbering," she sighed, pushing the bulbous tip past your lips as she shuddered in delight. "now, get to work, slut."

You whined at the derogatory name, licking the underside of her cock before taking her in your mouth again, suckling lightly on the tip. She hissed when you slowly started to take hierfully into your mouth, fingers tangled in your hair tightening with each inch you swallow. You took half of her before abruptly pulling off− her brows twitched in annoyance and she breaths a quiet "enough" before slamming into your mouth forcefully, the mushroom tip reaching the very back of your throat as you sputter and gag on it, not expecting her to be so rough but you asked for it so thats what you get . She keeps going before pulling out almost completely− then brutally thrusting back into the wet heat of your mouth.

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The end

#bada lee #bada lee x y/n #bada lee x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #smut #fluff #bada imagine

431 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months

Note

Could you do some headcanons of a Mc reader dating the BB League Elite 4 + Kieran but miraidon gets super jealous.

It gets to the point where they get out of their Pokeball to growl á them.

Amarys

While she isn't too good at expressing emotions herself, she can read the emotions of others quite well.

Apparently this extends to Pokémon, especially after she notices your Miraidon acting rather irate around her. It even got to the point where they kept bursting from their pokeball to growl at her whenever you're together.

"It seems your Agias has suddenly grown a dislike for me, [y/n]." She remarked one day. "But I cannot figure out why..have I done something to upset them recently?"

"Nothing that I know of. Although I think it's worth mentioning that they're actually called Miraidon, not Agias."

"..is that so? Then I will correct this error right away."

Both of you think that after she apologizes, the problem would be resolved...yet it continues, with Miraidon always budging into your conversations, trying to get you on their back and fly/drive off without warning, etc.

All of this happens despite there being no danger present.

Eventually, you chalk up their protective nature to one probable cause: Jealousy.

You were spending more time with Amarys, and perhaps that made your futuristic companion worried you'll spend less with them.

When you brought this up to your gf, she's surprised and isn't too sure how to resolve this..

Considering she's new to relationships, she didn't expect a Pokémon of all things to become so jealous of her.

You end up suggesting that the two bonded (outside of timed flying trials of course) so that they could learn to trust her more.

Despite lacking emotional depth, she still tries her best, knowing this would greatly benefit all three of you in the long run if you were going to continue dating.

Crispin

"Hey uh..your Pokémon is giving me a funny look again.....w-was the sandwich too spicy for them? I can always turn down the heat."

He's straight-up convinced that Miraidon is mad at him because he's making their sandwich the wrong way.

So he keeps changing up the ingredients, hoping to satisfy them (yet it doesn't help when they keep popping out of the pokeball and scaring him).

You've figured out ages ago that they were simply jealous of how much time you were spending with your new bf.

Alas, you're dating a chef who's not only a hothead, but an airhead as well.

"Do you think your Miraidon and Magmortar got into an argument? Because they keep staring at him like they wanna rip him apart..haha.."

"No, honey..it's you, not your Pokémon."

"....ohhh so you're saying I got into an argument with Miraidon! Yeah that makes sense..I did sorta lose my cool with them the other day..."

Sometimes you wonder if a bonk from that frying pan of his would help knock some sense into him....

Instead, though, you just have him sit down in the club room while you explain Miraidon's jealousy in detail.

Crispin finally understands and immediately feels bad (and a little dumb knowing it took him this long to realize it). He's rushing to apologize to your companion, promising to make them the best sandwich possible--hot or not.

He still gets nervous about kissing you/holding your hand when they're nearby, often feeling the need to hide behind the pan.

But you reassure him it's okay.

Drayton

Tbh he kinda relishes in the huffy demeanor your Miraidon has been displaying in recent days.

The way they gnash their teeth, circle around him, make sparks fly, hover over you, and light up their eyes as though preparing to use Electro Drift...

Yep, despite how flashy and futuristic they are...all Drayton sees is another dragon type Pokémon who's throwing temper tantrums.

And being such chill guy around dragons, he has no fear and instead teases them behind your back, getting them riled up.

"Oh c'mon. You don't scare me. I know you've been looking out for [y/n]...and watching them hang out with Kingdra and Archaludon-"

"Agiiaaassss.."

"...there it is." He laughs. "Look, I'm not "stealing" them from ya. So let's just try to get along for their sake, alright?"

"......"

"Right. I knew we'd come to an understandin'."

Somehow, the two are VERY good at hiding this little grudge from you, although you have noticed Miraidon being more protective than usual over you whenever Drayton's around.

But it boils over when they saw you shining his Archaludon's armor while on a picnic date, throwing a fit and almost having a fullblown battle with each other without either of you at the helm.

Luckily, all the other dragons on your team diffused the situation...

You're a little bit outraged (pun not intended) that Drayton never told you of Miraidon's jealousy issues--and that he was taunting them for it.

"C'mon, they know I'm only kidding around."

"...our Pokémon almost broke the damn table."

"I'll pay for the damages."

"I think you're missing the point here, babe.."

Lacey

From the moment she started showing you around the school...she wondered why Miraidon was acting weird.

Her first thought was that they could sense her being a fairy type trainer, but she isn't sure what to do about that, so she keeps quiet.

But after you two started dating, they grew more protective of you and jealous of her..and it's something she notices waaaay before you do.

After it gets to the point of them jumping out of their pokeball to scare her (and quickly go back in without you seeing them), her nerves were shot.

Even so, she doesn't want you to worry. So she keeps trying to be friendly towards them, but it's hard.

Doesn't help that Granbull is being quite sassy towards the electric/dragon type, too, growing just as protective over Lacey as they are over you.

And ofc she has to quell their argument before things turn ugly...and one day, it almost did.

"I'm sorry, but this is NOT right!" She crosses her arms, standing between the two Pokémon. "Granbull, I know you're better than this. And Miraidon, I know you don't trust me, but you need to-"

"What's going on, Lace?"

"!!!"

You were gone for all but two minutes, and you come back to your poor gf trying to stop a Pokémon battle from taking place.

Finally, she admits that Miraidon has been acting extremely jealous and it's made her nervous.

You feel terrible for not realizing this sooner, and promise to speak to your companion about it.

Least to say..you wind up coddling them and giving them treats, reassuring them you'll still pay attention to them--but they had to be nice to Lacey and not antagonize her fairies.

Reluctantly, they agree on the condition of getting a sandwich everyday.

Kieran

Considering Miraidon saved his life, it was definitely strange when that same Pokémon now seemingly hated his guts..

This all happened the moment you and him starting dating, with them popping out of the pokeball (and not because he mentioned sandwiches) and growling before you could share your first kiss.

It was embarrassing for Kieran, and he doesn't know how to earn their trust back.

He just muddles over the fact that he was...definitely less-than-kind to you, their trainer, back before the trip to Area Zero.

He said things to you that he didn't mean, things he regretted saying..and suddenly he wonders if Miraidon could have possibly heard all of that.

If they could hear you both discussing sandwiches, then surely....

It genuinely starts to stress him out, as he's trying so hard to make amends with everyone and not be hated anymore.

And yet he seemed to be forgiven by all...except for Miraidon.

Maybe they even regret saving him

You notice that your bf is starting to cower behind you at their presence, being scared to look them in the eye, etc.

Eventually, you get him to confess that he thinks your companion despises him, and the guilt resurfaces enough to make him cry, kneeling and pleading for their forgiveness.

But you comfort and reassure him that Miraidon's only jealous of you two spending so much time together.

"R-Really? That's all it was...?"

"Yep. I already gave them a stern talking to." You help him stand up. "I'm sorry they keep coming off as aggressive. They just gotta warm up to you a little more, that's all."

"So they don't..hate me?"

"Nope."

After that, Kieran tries his best to earn the dragon type's respect, becoming a bit braver with each interaction.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon kieran #pokemon crispin #pokemon lacey #pokemon drayton #pokemon amarys #miraidon #headcanons

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marleemutt · 6 months

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TLDR: im a black trans artist who can use some help right now following the sudden passing of my only sister - her doberman is now the responsibility of my parents and we can use help for his food, supplements, toys etc.

Kofi (help me send Chewy orders to my parent's house)

Wishlist (literally send him things like toys, treats, etc.)

⬇️ more info ⬇️

hey guys

some of you might be aware of this already, but early October, my eldest sibling & only sister suddenly passed away due to a seizure, she had been dealing with epilepsy her whole life.

this has been incredibly difficult for me, and my family. her passing was incredibly sudden, she was only 30.

for the past month or so ive been struggling to find any motivation to draw, and barely able to work.

she was the incredibly devoted owner of a doberman named Remi(Ramsey). Me and my sister traveled 4 hours to pick him up three years ago. He's a goofball who tears up socks and needs constant supervision. My parents love him, but I can tell he is a lot of work for two people who have fulltime jobs and have lived long lives.

I'm going to try to help them take care of him as much as possible, I feel that it's the least we can do to honor my sister's memory, since she loved him so deeply.

My sister always wanted a doberman, for years she would watch videos about dobermans and talk about them to anyone who would listen.

Remi wasn't easy to raise - I shared a room with my sister when she got him in 2020, she still worked a 9-5, five days a week, so I was his nanny for most of his difficult childhood. I was his chew toy for the first year of his life about - but that only made him bond closer to me. If he wasn't following my sister, I was choice #2. Dobermans are "velcro dogs", they were bred to guard their owners, and because of this, they are fiercely loyal. I've been moved out of my parent's place for going on 3 years, and my sister had just moved with Remi out a few months prior to her passing.

A week before my sister's sudden passing, we had to board Remi at my dog daycare job while my family and I took a trip out of state. When dropping him off, although he was happy to see me again for the first time in months, the moment my sister turned her back to him he began to panic. He got through the boarding all right but my coworkers told me he would cry and wait by the door for me or her. When my sister picked him up, they said he jumped all 80+lbs into her arms.

Since my sister's passing, Remi has been directionless. He's with my family, people he trusts, but he's bored, confused, and heartbroken. My sister would often take him to the dog park, social events, on runs, etc. but my parent's can't do that in their age. If my apartment allowed large dogs, I would take him, but I can't, and I see him maybe twice a month if possible.

Ramsey's Christmas List

I made a christmas list for him of things that might help my parents better take care of him. We're trying different food brands out because he struggles with frequent stomach issues, and we can't seem to figure out what food my sister was feeding him. This list is by no means a necessity for him, but I tried to add things to help with his boredom and keep him stimulated when my parents can't give him all their attention.

i do want to state that my family is capable of providing him with the essentials to live, we arent irresponsible. i would just like to help my parents out since a 3 year old 80-90lb doberman is a lot of work to be suddenly placed on them soley. And I worry for his health and well-being sometimes - Remi has a tendency to eat/tear random objects when he's bored.

please consider donating whatever you can. Everything goes directly to him.

thank you for taking the time to read this, and possibly reblog if possible. ❤️

#artists on tumblr #black artist #black lives matter #mutual aid #doberman #doberman pinscher #trans artist #trans day of visibility #tdov

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bipanicoverthegravessiblings · 3 months

Note

I’ve been following this blog ever since your first headcannons and I’m in love with your writing. I’ve been DYING for someone to request this but nobody has so I will! Could I request a Yandere Andrew with a willing fem reader? She’s just pretty chill and doesn’t mind Andrew’s possessive and yandere nature and is even willing to cut ties with people because she loves him and genuinely sees nothing wrong with it?

P.S I just love the Ashley and Gabriel ship! I think it’s adorable! I love Gabriel’s design and the pairing looks adorable together! I’m always looking on Tumblr multiple times a day to see if you’ve posted something new.

If you accept, please take your time and have fun! Thank you!

Anon- you are so sweet. Thanks dog <3

totallynotcryingtotallynotcrying—

Yandere!Andrew Graves x Willing Fem!Reader

You can’t remember the last time someone cared about you as much as Andrew did

Someone who would do the things he did just to protect you

Really you couldn’t be luckier

Most women would be terrified to see the dark silhouette of their partner standing outside their window late at night

Not you though, you know he was just making sure you were safe.

You waved to him once, and though it was difficult to see- he waved back

It was endearing how much Andrew cared about your safety

It was sweet how much he noticed about you

Small details that would go overlooked, like the shampoo you used- or the way you held yourself while conveying emotions. He noticed.

Andrew loved you. And you loved him.

“I’m just…worried.” Your friend’s voice felt like the vocal equivalent of chewing cardboard. If it wasn’t for the subject right now, you would’ve tuned her out ages ago. But this concerned you and your life, so you listened, “Like- he’s a stalker Y/N! Straight up stalker! What if he like- wears your skin like a jacket or something.”

“Hm.” You shrugged, “I’m sure he’d sew a lovely jacket then.” A small grin formed on the corners of your mouth as your friend gave an annoyed sigh.

“I’m being serious! He’s obsessed with you!”

“Boyfriends are supposed to be obsessed, aren’t they not?”

“No! Like weirdly obsessed!” You could hear the desperation in her voice, “Y/N, you don’t get it. I’ve been- I’ve been getting letters, voicemails, goddamn post it notes on my desk to stay away from you and they’re all from him. He broke into my house!”

Andrew….did all that?

“Oh my god…” you let out.

“Thank you!”

“Oh my god…he- really must not trust you then.”

“WHAT?!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as your friend yelled into it.

You slowly brought it back to your ear, “Well- yeah? I mean- clearly he doesn’t trust you.”

“Clearly he’s insane!”

Alright- you had enough.

“Look,” you took a breath, trying to remain calm, “If you have a problem with my boyfriend- that’s fine. But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult him.”

“I’m not insulting him I’m—“

“Don’t call me again.” You said flatly, and not a second later hung up the phone.

You should feel awful. You should feel apologetic for what you said. You should consider your friend’s words..

But you didn’t.

It wasn’t like how they thought it was.

That friend, and any others who had something to say could fuck themselves over it

It was hard every time you had to do it

But Andrew- bless his soul- always comforted you

Hell, sometimes he even did it for you cause he knew how difficult they could be

He’s so sweet

Still would make them call, but you slowly blocked out the incessant sound of the phone’s ringing

When one of those conversations would bring you down, Andrew would be right there to lift your spirits

Andrew’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs trying to lift the corner of your mouth into a smile. The more he did it, the more it amused you- causing an actual smile to stay.

“There we go.” His head tilted a little as he gave you a small smile of his own, “Much better.”

“You’re a dork.” You buried your face into his chest, sighing happily as the familiar feeling of his hands stroking your hair.

“I’m your dork.” He hummed, “And I like your smile. So you better keep it, or I’ll carve it on to you.”

“Awwww, is that a promise?” You tilted your head up to look into his pale green eyes, your chin rested against his chest.

He nodded, “Mhm! Now C’mere.”

He leaned his head down, kissing you softly. You returned the kiss, reaching your arms up and wrapping them around his neck to hold him there. Not like he’d pull away, but as a measure for yourself more than anything.

For all the “warnings”

All the “concern” people gave your relationship with Andrew Graves

You didn’t care

You loved him

You loved his fucked up ways of affection

His twisted form of love

And he loved you back, tenfold

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #tcoaal #andrew graves x reader #x reader #genuinely this ask warmed my heart #I’m glad people like Gabriel and my dumb shit

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celtic-crossbow · 2 months

Text

Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France) Warnings: Sexual Situations; Vague Smut

Summary: Daryl's childhood had lacked so much and at the beginning of the turn, he had never known love beyond Merle's version of it. Now, he had it all and he would never let them wonder how much he cherished them.

A/N: For @louifaith, I hope this is close to what you imagined for our archer. 🩵 - Also, I have Daryl calling reader "pip" because someone suggested him nicknaming her "pipsqueak" in another story and it has just stuck with me. I was as vague as possible about reader’s age but let me be clear - she is above 18. I don’t write for huge age gaps. I don’t judge those that do and I do read them. I just do not write them but I have no control over where your mind takes you. Anyway, the song he hums is attached. ;)

Life was good.

For thirteen years, there had never been a point in time where Daryl had felt like he could say that and genuinely believe it. For an entire year, the Commonwealth had thrived. Not a single threat. The walls held. The governing unit was fair and compassionate. It really was like the old world.

But not for Daryl.

In the old world, he had been a drifter. A useless drifter walking in the shadow of his brother. No job, no friends, no purpose. And he had, at that time, liked it that way.

Not anymore.

Because now he had a job. He had friends. He had a family. He had a purpose. And he had everything he had lacked growing up. He had love, and not just Merle’s variation of it.

Carol had taken over Lance’s position when Ezekiel and Mercer had stepped up to govern. She had pulled Daryl aside and asked him if he wanted to stay in their reformed force, giving him the choice. His decision was to promptly decline. So they put their heads together to come up with something.

Daryl possessed many skills, most of them learned by doing throughout the years. He had one condition that he would not negotiate on, however.

Daryl’s time outside the walls was over.

He agreed to train hunters to take his place and conceded to three weeks on the road with volunteers that he left up to Carol’s choosing. There was more than enough trust between them for him to be comfortable with who she would deem worthy to provide for the community.

Then he was given the job of overseeing construction and structural upkeep, equipment maintenance, and of course, a seat in the governmental advisory council. He was nothing if not adaptable and took to his position quickly, finding that he liked it. He was respected and his suggestions for the good of the community were heard and considered.

If he chose to hunt or ride, it would be for leisure but he’d hardly needed it in the past year. Domestic life had tamed the inner need to hide or escape that had been ingrained throughout the years even before the turn.

Years ago, you had tumbled into his life. A hot mess that he had spent many a day battling the urge to absolutely throttle. You had a stubborn streak a mile wide that made his own nothing more than a small trail. He absolutely couldn’t stand you.

Funny thing, time.

Now you wore his ring and proudly carried his last name. You had wanted the ceremony, even if his proposal was lackluster. He had been seeking you out after the end of the Whisperers.

“Where’s Y/N?” At first no one answered. He barely parted his lips, intent on asking again with a little more well placed ardor when a woman he recognized as a former Hilltop resident spoke up. “I saw your wife! She’s over with the children!” He muttered his thanks and took a single step before you were finding him. “Daryl!” Your body collided with his, knocking the air from his lungs. His heartbeat lowered regardless, feeling you there in his arms, alive and breathing and whole. “I couldn’t see you in the herd. I was about to come find you but Jude, she made me promise to stay.” “M’here. An’ they’re gone” He tightened his arms around you and rested his cheek on the crown of your head. “So I’m your wife now, huh?” He felt the shift of your facial muscles against his chest, knew you were smiling. “What of it?” He grunted. “Ya wanna be?” He felt his heart skip a few beats when you lifted your head to smile at him, beaming and beautiful. “Of course, I do. Might as well be at this point. We sound like an old married couple.” Daryl snorted and then shrugged. “Then I guess we are.” “That simple?” “That simple.” When you grinned, he knew you would never let it be that simple.

You got your wedding, simple and intimate, with only the few remaining people that were closest to the two of you. When Gabriel said the words, you got your ring, too. Oh, the hell and herds Daryl had gone through to get them. Matching bands, camelot black titanium. Crafted to withstand the way the world was.

He was twisting the ring round and round as he walked home, tired from a full day’s work and more than ready for the weekend with his family: you, Jude, RJ, and his little River. His boy was nearly two years old, the spitting image of Daryl with a heaping dose of your attitude.

You were younger than Daryl, still at an age where pregnancy and giving birth was not considered risky beyond the state the world was in and the lack of some resources. It was horrifying yet the best news he’d ever heard in his self-proclaimed useless life.

River Merle came along right in the midst of the unease in the Commonwealth. When they had taken you and River along with Jude and RJ, it had required all the power Carol possessed to stop Daryl from losing his goddamn mind. He was prepared to rip out entrails with his bare hands and use them to strangle each and every trooper that stood between him and his wife and kids. It was not a good time to support Pamela.

It all worked out in the end when, bruised but alive, the people took back the Commonwealth.

And now, here he was. A husband. A father. A boss. A survivor.

Life. Was. Good.

“Ya home, Pip?” The words habitually rolled off his tongue the moment he opened the door and stepped inside. Jude and RJ were watching a movie, the elder looking over with a hey, Uncle Daryl before turning right back to the television. It was the weekend. No reason to bug them about homework.

“Where else would we be?” You called from the kitchen. Daryl unlaced his boots, was in the middle of pulling off the second one when you came out with River on your hip. “Someone’s cranky today.”

“I ain’t cranky.”

“I’m not talking about you but assuming I was says a lot.” You smiled softly, passing off the baby while simultaneously stealing a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He nearly melted, probably would have if you weren’t situating a small human right against his chest.

“Get a room.” Judith was rolling her eyes when Daryl shot her a harmless look.

River’s little arms went straight around his father’s neck, his little hiccups and sniffles muffled against Dary’s shirt. “S’wrong, lil’ man. Mama houndin’ ya over veggies like she does me an’ RJ?” River pulled back, rubbing his left eye with a chubby fist, looking at Daryl with a scowl that he knew very well adorned his own face more often than not. Even being so content with his life, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of what you called his resting bitch face.

“Daddy.” Was all the boy said before burying his face back into Daryl’s shirt.

“He had a nap?” Daryl was jostling his son as little as possible while ridding himself of his precious vest, tossing it over the back of ‘his’ chair at the dining table. His large hand covered a wide expanse of the small boy’s back when he rubbed soothing little circles, following you into the kitchen. You shook your head and took the lid off the pot on the stove. The scent of meat and herbs wafted toward Daryl and his mouth watered, but first thing was first.

“He wouldn’t go down. I think it’s a daddy day.” You smiled at the sauce but it wasn’t meant for the pasta topping at all. Daddy days were Daryl’s favorite. River wanted absolutely no one but him. The baby would fuss during meals, refuse to nap, and absolutely forget about bath and bedtime unless Daryl was there.

“I got ‘im then. See if I can get ‘im down for a bit.” Daryl was ducking and angling his head to catch River’s attention, finally earning a shy smile when blue met blue and the archer scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. Pressing a kiss into the mess of wavy hair, he noticed you standing with your back against the countertop, a certain type of smile on your face.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just sexy.”

“Pfft, stop.”

“We are so playing chess tonight.”

Daryl arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your smile morphing into something else entirely; something sinful. “Oh, yeah.”

Dinner done, older kids in their rooms after teeth brushing and goodnight hugs, Daryl sat in the nursery with a sleepy River resting his head on his father’s shoulder while the chair gently rocked. The baby’s hair was only the least bit damp but he smelled of the lavender lotion that you always seemed to have near the changing table, instructing Daryl to use it after baths and before bed because it was calming.

Bathed and in a fresh diaper and pajamas, mini-Daryl was beginning to drift off while his father simply rubbed his back or kissed his cheek or even held a little hand just to count the fingers over and over. Soon enough there would be potty training and pre-school—Carol had said that was still a thing in the world now and yes, they had one in the Commonwealth—so for now, Daryl just wanted to soak it all up, take it all in.

River would likely be the only baby the two of you would have, so not a single second was being wasted or taken for granted. You kept a daily journal of simple things that some might find trivial but Daryl knew he’d be reading that journal often enough to wear the ink right off the pages. Sometimes, he missed things because of work, but in the end, that’s what happened when you were a parent, he supposed. His old man didn’t care about milestones or daddy days, and his mama wasn’t around for bath time or boo-boo kisses. River would have it all. And as long as they were his to care for, so would Judith and RJ. In fact, since the baby had Daryl, you were currently reading a story to Rick and Michonne’s son before bed.

Man, if Rick could see Daryl now. Would his brother even recognize him? God, would his brother even recognize him? He let his mind drift for a moment to Rick and Merle, just long enough to keep them close and then he was back to River, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek.

You would always rock and sing to the little one but he didn’t need that from Daryl. There was just something about their bond that didn’t require words and hardly even movement. It had been that way since the moment you had pushed him into the world. He had cried, red-faced and angry and cold while Tomi leaned to put him onto your chest. You had your time with him, cuddling and nursing, his little sounds still expressing his discontentment with the change from your warm womb to a loud, bright world.

They had Daryl take off his shirt, which he didn’t understand until you explained better than any doctor or nurse could. The moment River was pressed against his skin, the connection was apparent to anyone who saw. The baby went silent, wide eyes mirroring the ones Daryl himself had. He had felt guilty for the longest time that River wanted you to feed him and then he wanted his daddy back immediately. He still had his mommy days and you said that was enough.

You were always supportive, never angry or jealous. You’d share the moments with him while he enjoyed them with you.

It was all what he’d never had, so he’d make sure River, Judith, and RJ never went without it.

His eyes were slow to open, squinting at the traitorous window that dared let the morning rays creep across the bed and to his pillow. It took a few sluggish blinks to remember what day it was and that he was free to go back to sleep until River required either you or him. With a deep breath, he stretched his arms above his head and looked at you, still wrapped around him with your head on his chest. Naked. Still so very, very naked.

He was barely in the bedroom door before you were pushing him against it, almost catching his fingers when he attempted to mute the sound of it closing at his back. You had his shirt unbuttoned and your mouth on his before he could even take a breath. “I told you,” you panted against his lips, “we’re playing chess tonight.” Daryl grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you easily, spinning you to press you against the door. “Goddamn right, we are.” The first round was a frenzied bout of moaning and skin slapping skin, hands covering mouths to keep the noise down. Your nails had left gouges on Daryl’s ass and back, clawing at him for more. You weren’t unscathed. A bruise was blooming on the curve of your right breast, a perfect black and purple bite he had inflicted at some point. It ended with you lying across Daryl’s torso while he was flat on his back with the pillow halfway over his face. Panting and sweating while the sheet covered neither of you where it mattered. Why it was anywhere near either of you was anyone’s guess. The second time was slower, every second savored. Your fingertips memorizing his face while his hips rolled into you, back arching to push himself deeper. His lips were on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks and mouth. His fingers danced down your ribcage and back up to your breasts, gentle caresses while he pressed his lips over the mark he’d left earlier. You didn’t have to try hard to roll him over. He went willingly, his hands going straight for your hips. You let your fingers roam his chest and stomach. His scars were yours to explore, he’d given that power over to you long ago. The marks no longer held him prisoner after you’d shown him how to be free. You were incredibly attracted to the way his body had softened with age and he worshiped each wrinkle and stretch mark that time and pregnancy had gifted you. You loved each other wholly, without condition.

And you laid where you had collapsed, goosebumps on your skin from the cool morning air. Daryl didn’t want to go back to sleep, so he laid there, watching you and just enjoying the silence with the knowledge that his family was safe. That you had survived together and built something so precious.

When River began to fuss, it was Daryl that slipped out of bed and left you to rest a bit longer. He had no qualms with being the one to get up earlier to take care of the baby.

The weekend went by fast, as it often did. Sunday night, he found himself sitting on the couch after the kids were all asleep. He had helped clean up after dinner and was contently watching you pick up toys and fold laundry. He didn’t step in to help because he had no intention of allowing you to continue for long.

“What?” You finally inquired, obviously catching him staring.

“Nothin’.” He smirked, huffing a laugh that came out as an exhale through his nose. You were still regarding him when he stood and beckoned you with a finger. “C’mere.” Your pretty eyes narrowed but you placed the unfolded towel on the top of the pile in the basket and stepped into his space. Daryl wasn’t romantic, truly believed he didn’t have it in him to be anything near it. Still, when he guided your arms to his shoulders and lowered his hands to your hips, he watched you melt.

“There’s no music, Daryl.”

“Don’t need it.” He shrugged, just swaying back and forth with you, pulling you closer until you rested your head against his chest.

“The formidable Daryl Dixon is dancing with me when there’s no music playing. This’ll make the papers. It’ll be the headline.”

“Stop.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. He was smiling when you sighed, somehow pressing yourself closer to him. You didn’t react at first when he started to hum, whether you were in shock or just relishing the moment. Maybe both. You let him continue.

It was an old tune, one from a favorite album released more than a decade before the first walker rose from the dead. The tune was slow and deep, his chest vibrating with every drone. Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, the corners of your mouth perked.

“What is that?”

“How dare ya! S’Ozzy, woman.” He feigned offense but was tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’ve never heard it.”

Daryl scowled playfully before scrunching his nose. “Remind me why I married ya?” You wrapped yourself around him and with the fondest smile he had ever let cross his face, he held you tighter.

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, I do.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #dad!daryl #daryl fluff #domestic!daryl #Spotify

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justjams2003 · 2 months

Note

Hiii! Super loved your recent work (fast pace) 🩷 I was really hooked and now it's one of my favorite Carlos fics here!

I was wondering if I could request a special part of it? Anything like their life with their kids, their life after carlos' retirement, or something domestic! Thank you 🫶🏻

Hi! I just want to apologize for making you wait for so long. I took a bit of a writing break after finishing Fast Pace. But I got inspired after Carlos won last weekend! Please enjoy:

Summary: Some domestic bliss as you and Carlos pick up your three eldest children after their first day of Grade 1 and kindergarten.

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Husband!Father!Carlos Sainz x Wife!Mother!Reader

Warnings: Carlos is aged up and is in this request now 41. Age difference. A cute happy family. Even still, manipulation, control, obsession. Carlos tampers with your birth control. Kissing. A very slight mention of alcohol.

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen @formulaal tjdjindahouse

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

The first year of marriage was amazing. You spent almost every hour with Carlos. Jumping from airplane to airplane, country to country. You were attached at the hip. The media either loved it or hated it...you actually didn’t know. At some point, a PR team took over your Instagram and it was rare for you to ever actually read the comments or news. Any information you’d receive would come from Carlos and his team, after all, they’re all you really can trust.

That was, of course, until, mysteriously, your birth control pills stopped working. It feels like so long ago, the day Carlos picked you up in his arms, celebrating the news of a child. Now, you wait outside the school gates, seven years later, with a much older Carlos but just as excited. His eyes now crinkle up and he has a few grey steaks at the temples of his hair. But he’s not any less handsome.

Especially when his big strong arms holds your daughter in his arms. Your little girl sits perched on his hip. The only other girl in his life, besides you. She looks so much like him. Dark toughs of hair that you’ve combed this morning with the same wavy texture as his hair. Her big brown eyes gleam up with such love at him.

And at the same time, he carries your son in his car seat with the other arm. He’s sleeping soundly, his dummy bobbing up and down as he suckles in his sleep. You’re so glad Carlos is here to help. You were sad three years ago when he decided to retire at the end of the season. But now, you’re so grateful. You don’t think you could do this with him on the other side of the world.

You feel like you’ve been pregnant forever now. Totally accidently five months after giving birth, now you’re 2 months pregnant again. You groan, everything hurts. Your breasts are engorged from breastfeeding and now being pregnant again. You’ve got constant heartburn and nausea. Your hair has thinned and your nails feel brittle. And yet, including all that, Carlos still believes wholeheartedly that you are the most gorgeous girl in the whole world.

Carlos steps closer to you and places a kiss on your temples. “¿Cómo te sientes, mi amor?” When was the last time that you spoke English? You can’t really remember, because now Spanish also sounds like English. “Tired, mostly, I’ve missed the boys all day, it feels so strange without them home.” He chuckles and nods, “It’s strange for the house to be quiet... You think everything went well?”

You smile and turn to the gates, you know Carlos is worried his children might be bullied or used for his name. That they won’t be able to make proper friends, that all the kids would just use them to get into the celebrity world. You had a meeting with the twins and Junior’s schools to handle this with grace.

You can feel the other parents whisper, talking with each other. You feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn, it’s a woman who looks to be your age, 31. Where has the time gone? She smiles and speaks in Spanish, like everyone else where you live. “Is this your first time?” She asks with a kind smile. You return the expression, “No, not at kindergarten. But it’s still as nerve wracking.”

She laughs with you as you begin your small talk. “But, after this we have to pick up our son at first grade, which makes our stomachs turn.” You laugh and lightly graze Carlos’ arm to show who ‘we’ are. “Is this your husband?” She asks and Carlos nods. “Hi, I’m Carlos. I would shake your hand but my hands are a little full.” He says, referring to the children in his hands. He refuses to let you carry anything while pregnant.

“And I’m Y/N.” You shake her hand and she also introduces herself. Then your ear catches the sound of excited children screaming as the first classroom door opens. Your head snaps to the noise and then you see the teacher you had met with walking to the gate with a trail of kids behind her.

You can see your twin boys anxiously scanning the parents trying to find you. And when the eldest of the two do see you, he grabs his brother’s arm and quickly runs over. “Mama! Papa!” They yell and excitedly run over into your arms. They wrap their arms around you, as you bend down and hug them close.

“Hello, my loves, how was it?” You ask, combing the hair out of their eyes. They look a lot more like you than the other kids. “It was fun, but missed you mama.” Dario, the youngest of the two says. Your girl babbles and makes grabbing hands at Antonio, the oldest of the twins. “Papa, wanna hold sis.” Antonio says, Carlos smiles and puts Bianca down on her little feet. Your kids hug each other, Carlos has raised his sons to have the same protectiveness as he has over their mother and sister.

“Come on, hold my hand.” You say taking each of their hands in your own. Carlos crosses the road first and then you. He opens the car door for you. It’s almost ironic for this retired championship formula one driver to now be the one driving a mini-van. It is his fault, he just can’t keep his hands off his wife. Carlos wouldn’t have it any other way.

He buckles each of the kids into their car seat. The twins next to each other in the back and the two youngest in the front. Your youngest, seven month old is the best behaved. He sleeps in his car seat, that is until the twins start arguing, like always. Who had the best lunchbox, who is tallest, who mom and dad like most. Even though, you made sure they had the same lunchbox, they’re twins and thus the same height and like all parents, you don’t have a favourite.

“Oi! Stop arguing, you’ll wake up your brother.” Carlos commands, his tongue moving fast in his home language. It still gets you all warm when he speaks Spanish. “Sorry, papa,” they say in unison. You just sigh and shake your head. “Papa?” Your daughter, Bianca calls out. “Yes, my princess?” Carlos replies. “Ice-cream?” The little girl asks, your heart melts and you’re certain that your husband is also a puddle. “After we pick up Junior, we’ll go out for ice-cream.”

Your kids scream in excitement, causing your baby to start whimpering and then soon crying. “Ai, mi amour.” Carlos sighs and shakes his head, his eyes meet yours in the rear-view mirror while you sit next to your youngest children. You slightly lean over your seat and give him a kiss on his greying temples. “It’s okay, my love.”

You’ve got Raúl, your youngest, strapped into your sling. Bianca sits high on Carlos’ shoulders, daddy’s little girl. Her fingers gripped into his salt and pepper hair. You can’t help but reach up and untangle her fingers. “My love, when did you start going grey?” You ask Carlos, staring into his warm brown eyes. He just laughs and shakes his head.

“Must you point it out? I feel so old compared to the other parents...” He mutters, the other parents are around your age, some even younger. “I like it though...a silver fox.” He once again laughs and sighs. “No, mi amor.” You grin wildly at his reaction. “41 Isn’t that old...” He mumbles and again you just smirk. “I mean, Alonso was still racing at 41...”

That really does get him, he bursts out laughing. “Yeah, you’re not wrong...” Then you feel Dario tug on your hand. “Look, Mama!” You see kids, with backpacks looking far too big for their tiny bodies, come pouring out of classroom. Then your eldest son, you can’t help but smile seeing he’s chatting with other kids. And then his big brown eyes look up and see Carlos, he begins running.

The little boy runs up and hugs Carlos around the legs. Your twins greet their oldest brother. Bianca waves down to her brother from above. Junior gleams up, you remember when you gave birth to Bianca, Junior wanted to do everything for her. He’d carry her around every chance he got.

“Come, papa said we can have ice-cream.” You tell Junior after he hugs you. “Really?” He asks, his eyes beaming up. Carlos winks and then nods.

Ding! Your phone has a notification. You grab your phone on the nightstand. “Who is it?” Carlos asks, coming out of the shower. All five of your kids are fast asleep. You read the text. “It’s Alex.” She and Charles had married 3 years ago, no kids yet. “What does she say?” Carlos asks, lying down in the bed next to you, taking your phone and reading the text.

“Hey Y/N, we miss you, why don’t we go out and party tonight? Leave the kids with Carlos.” She texted in the group chat, and Kika added. “We haven’t seen you in like years now that Carlos isn’t racing anymore.” Carlos just laughs at their antics. He hands your phone back to you. “Do you want to go?” He asks, raising his brow.

When was the last time you went out alone? When was the last time that you weren’t with Carlos? Since he retired...there hasn’t really been a second alone? It would be kind of nice, to talk about something other than the kids... “I’d prefer if you didn’t...” Carlos mutters, he crawls down to your stomach. He gently lifts your pyjama short and kisses your stomach. “Pregnant and all...”

You just smile, combing your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. You pick up your phone and text your friends in the groupchat. “Sorry, girls, can’t have alcohol...🙈” You get a quick reply back. “Again?!” “Didn’t you like just give birth???” Your cheeks go red at their comments. You feel the urge to send them a photo of Carlos kissing your stomach, but don’t. You do, however, take a photo, saving it for later and then put the phone down.

“I hope it’s another girl.” He mutters, placing small kisses on your stomach. You can’t help but smirk. “I hope it’s the last one.” You mutter, playing with his hair. He pouts, placing his chin gently on your stomach. “Why? You look so fucking good pregnant.” He says, lust in his gaze. You just laugh and roll your eyes. “To you, maybe. But I’m telling you, my love, I don’t want to have to drive a limousine to their schools.”

You can see him think for a moment. “You mean it? No more kids?” He says, jutting out his bottom lip and making his eyes gleam. It’s hard to say no to him, but you stay firm, for once in your life. You actually wanted to stop after the twins. Not that you love Bianca and Raúl any less.

But this number six is the most difficult so far. You’re taking both pre-and-postnatals at the same time. “Yes, I mean it.” You say, stern. You’d like your body to be yours again...“Alright, I’ll get the snip. I don’t want you on those damn pills. I can’t fucking stand them, they’re unnatural.” He mutters, his jaw locking...

Huh...Always thinking about your well-being...

“You look so fucking good as a mom. Seeing how much they adore you. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.” He snarls, his kisses on your stomach becoming more sloppy. He trails up to your lips. Capturing your lips in his. So furious and desperate on your lips. “I love you, mi amor. You’re mine. Only mine.”

Request are open.

#Fast Pace #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #f 1 x reader

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