#i do not really read ao3 but i did this for shits and giggles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cow-smells · 9 months

Text

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji imagine #one piece sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader

6K notes · View notes

rosylix · 6 days

Text

rosy

더 깊이 빠져들겠지 더 조금씩 더 조금씩 넌...

you don't know how to give a hickey.. what are friends for if not to help each other with these things?

pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader

wc: 4.3k

content: nonidol au, fluff, not rly smut but suggestive (mdni pls), shy/inexperienced reader, hickeys (duh), reader is like slightly germophobic idk, a lot of teasing, no use of y/n

a/n: i am so delusional i need to bite this mans neck badly. and yes this is my username. yes it's the loona song. lol

[also read on ao3]

—

God, you should have just kept your mouth shut.

“You don't know how to give a hickey?”

You shake your head and cover your face, hiding from Felix, who's sitting next to you on his bed.

“Wait, really? Like you've never even tried it on yourself?” he asks.

“No?! What, people actually do that?” Your hands lower slightly to reveal your eyes widening.

He breathes out a laugh and you hit his arm. “It's not funny!”

“It's kind of funny.”

“Shut up. I just— like— I never… whatever.” He poorly conceals a teasing smile. “Shut up or you're literally not getting any cinnamon rolls tomorrow. In fact, lemme ask Hannie if he wants your extras.” You pull out your phone.

Before you can do anything, Felix swiftly moves closer to you, his hand pushing yours down. “Whoa, whoa, hey.. that's a little drastic, yeah? Have I ever told you how much I love and appreciate you? ..And your cinnamon rolls?” He smiles sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you.

You grumble but drop the phone and shake his hand away, pursing your lips to fight a smile. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence.

…And then Felix ruins it.

“But you've kissed people before, right?”

You look at him incredulously. “Did I not say to shut up??” you shriek.

“Is that a no?” He giggles. He fucking giggles. You want to punch his pretty face.

“Lee Felix Yongbok I will smite you down right here where you stand if you don't—”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I just mean, it's kind of like the same thing, you know?”

“The same as what? Giving a h-hickey?” You can't help but stutter a little.

“Yeah like it's… I'll show you.”

Felix suddenly moves so he's in front of you and gently grabs your arm. He'll show you?! Literally what. What the hell. You let out a small squeak and instinctively lean away from him.

“Relax, I just meant here,” he touches your arm. “Is that okay?”

You stare at him.

“...Or I could show it on myself but I thought it might be better to feel it? Or I don't have to do it at all of course,” he says quickly.

Oh. It takes a second but the gears in your head start slowly turning enough to respond.

“Oh.” Well, okay, that wasn't as much of a response as you meant to give.

Felix laughs softly and pulls his hand away from your arm. “Sorry, it's too weird, right? No worries.”

But wait, you're actually curious. And isn't it better to figure it out before you inevitably make a fool out of yourself in front of someone else? It makes you a bit nervous but… you're comfortable with Felix. “No, wait, you can uh... show me…?”

His eyebrows raise for a second but then he smiles. “You sure?”

You nod. You still feel a little dazed and you're not really cognizant enough to actually do anything but watch him as he moves closer again. Your arm must feel like a dead weight but he lifts it up and lowers his head, placing a chaste kiss on your inner wrist. “This okay? Usually you um... start with kissing.”

“O-Oh, okay, yeah..” you murmur. What is this sudden weird atmosphere? Maybe you're the only one feeling it. Felix doesn't seem too phased, but you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Shit, can he feel your pulse right now? You really hope not.

He flashes a shy smile and places another kiss there, and another a little higher, and another, and it feels way too intimate and sends shivers up your spine. Slowly, he moves up your forearm, stopping right before your elbow.

“So… then.. you just wanna like... suck,” he says before doing just that, right below the crook of your elbow.

Oh. It feels weird. You must have made a noise or something because he looks up at you through dark lashes, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. You swallow. What the actual hell is happening right now?

After holding excruciating eye contact for what feels like an eternity, he lets his eyes close. Thank god, because it was making your chest feel tight and weird. You continue to stare as he continues kissing and sucking at your arm, face absolutely burning at the strange sensation.

You've literally lost the freaking plot. You just sit there, no semblance of time passing. After about twenty seconds? Twenty minutes? It literally could have been either — he finally pulls away, with a final kiss and light drag of his teeth against your skin.

You hold your breath as he sits up and gently maneuvers your arm so you could see the fruits of his labor. He clears his throat. “Um, so… it's starting to show up. See?” he says a little breathlessly.

You nod, unsure what to say when your best friend literally just sucked a hickey onto your arm. A very platonic hickey. Okay. This is fine. This is totally normal right? It must be or he wouldn't have offered. ..Right? You stare down at the bruise starting to blossom on your arm and finally chance a glance at Felix, but he also has his head down, staring at your arm.

Suddenly as if on cue, his head jerks up. When he sees you looking at him he grins. “Cool, right? How does it feel?”

“Weird…” you mumble. How can he be so nonchalant about this? You want to strangle him.

He nods. “It might be a little sensitive for a bit.” He runs his fingers lightly over the reddening area and you immediately see what he means. It feels tender and tingly under his touch. You shiver. “So.. you think you get how to do it now?” he asks.

“Um… yeah, I mean, maybe?”

“Do you wanna try?”

“Try? What, on… on your arm?!”

A slight blush creeps up his face and he shrugs. “Sure, or wherever… my arm, or my neck since that's where it's usually…”

You feel your face heat up as well. “I…”

“I just thought, if you wanna like, practice? But of course you don't have to.” He looks away and shrugs again, seeming a little embarrassed for suggesting it.

You open and close your mouth over and over again like a fish. Like a stupid dumb fish who somehow got itself reeled into this crazy situation. But honestly, the more you think about it, the offer to practice is tempting. When would you get another opportunity like this? Probably never. And… you trust Felix more than anyone else.

“...Is it really okay?” you ask hesitantly.

Felix looks up, blinking a few times before smiling. “Of course. I mean, it's only fair since I did it on you,” he laughs softly. He seems happy but also a little surprised that you actually appeared to be agreeing to his offer. Honestly, you're surprised too.

“Right, um…” you mumble. You shuffle a little closer to him. His hand slides down from your elbow to your hand, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it with his thumb. To reassure you, you think. It's a sweet gesture.

You lean in slightly towards his neck, deciding that if you do it here, you can hide your face from him and avoid any eye contact. “Um, can I...? Where should I…?”

You're so close to him. You can hear his breath catch a little before he points to the side of his neck with his free hand. “Around here,” he says, his voice somehow getting impossibly lower.

You swallow, the reality of the situation suddenly sinking in. As you lean in further you bite your lip, anxious. You need to break this tension somehow. You just can't do this right now. “Um.. um… do you wash your neck?” you blurt out.

Felix leans back a little. “Do I... do I wash my neck? That's what you're worried about?” he laughs.

“Some people probably don't!” you exclaim. Then you sigh. “Ugh, s-sorry, that's stupid, right? You literally licked my arm,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I just— I don't know. It feels icky. Germs.”

He hums. “You're not stupid.” A pause. “But, I can proudly say I do wash my neck.” He presses his lips together, clearly suppressing another laugh and you just know he's about to tease you. “Wow, how do you even kiss people if you're this worried about germs?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, leaning back into his neck a little to hide your face, your breath hot on his neck. He inhales sharply and seems surprised and, you think, a little panicked?

You instantly pull away. “Felix, are you sure?” You chew on your lip. Is this a bad idea after all?

“Yeah, I-I... yeah, of course,” he says, a little breathless, but you're not entirely convinced. You start to move away fully but he quickly grabs your arm again. “No.. no, wait. Please,” he whispers. You see him visibly try to relax, taking a deep breath in and out. “It's okay. I promise. I was just caught off guard.”

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“No, no, you're good, you're fine. It was me.” Felix clears his throat and rubs your arm reassuringly.

You take a deep breath. “Okay… so.. here?” You lean back in to where you were previously, breath hitting his neck.

He swallows, and you see it because his Adam's apple bobs up and down right in front of your face. What the fuck. “Yeah. Just go slow and… you can start with kissing if you want. Don't overthink it,” he mumbles, sounding more like he's reminding himself of something.

You nod and slowly, so slowly, you lean in the rest of the way and press your lips to his neck.

You expected him to remain still but a small breathy noise escapes him and he leans his head further back, exposing more of his neck in the process. You swear you can feel his pulse thrumming under your lips. “Good... um.. yeah, just... kiss a little bit and then suck. You can use your tongue, too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but you can feel the vibrations against your lips when he speaks. What the fuck.

Your head feels fuzzy. You hesitantly place a kiss on his neck, and then another a little higher, and another, until you reach an area you're satisfied with. You almost want to pull away but remember Felix's words. Right. Just try not to overthink it…

He pulls a breath in through his teeth when you press an open-mouthed kiss and start sucking gently. At the same time, your tongue darts out almost automatically and touches his skin.

You feel him swallow thickly. “Y-You gotta… harder…” he murmurs. “Or it won't mark.”

You hesitate. “Won't it hurt?”

He blinks hard and shakes his head slightly. “Don't worry… I-I'll tell you if it hurts, okay? Just try. Do it like I did.”

You nod and take a deep breath before trying again, this time in earnest, sucking harder and pulling his skin between your lips and even past your teeth.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his grip on your arm tightening, “Like... like that. And you can.. use your teeth a little too.” His voice is getting thick, low, and raspy and, god, you feel a little dizzy.

But you want to please him, so you bite down softly and let your teeth run over the area. A quiet, high-pitched whine escapes his lips, and his hand shoots up to cover his mouth, body jerking back slightly. He suddenly seems to realize the noise he made and looks at you, wide-eyed.

You pull back again, a little breathless. “D-Did it hurt?” You really didn't think you bit that hard, but you can't hide the worry in your voice.

His hand drops from his mouth, face flushed and breathing labored. His eyes look a little dialed out. “No... no, it didn't.. hurt.” It seems like it takes all his strength just to say that. “Sorry, I just...” he takes a few more seconds to gather himself, “Um, kinda sensitive…”

…Sensitive? Oh. Oh. It was good. He liked it. You almost sigh in relief. But then… wait. He's sensitive there. He… Your brain isn't working. You find yourself leaning back in to his neck without thinking.

Felix doesn’t protest, just sits back, exposing more of his neck to you. You feel his body shudder when you lightly drag your teeth over the area before attaching your mouth more firmly and sucking at his skin.

He can’t stop the whimper from leaving his throat. “That feels really good.. you’re doing good,” he pants.

Your heart swells from the praise and you double down on your efforts. You hear him try to suppress another whimper but it’s more strained this time. It happens again and again, little noises and whines that you're not sure if he's even aware he's making. Every noise pulls and tugs at something in your stomach.

It feels intimate, so insanely intimate and you think you might combust on the spot if you go any longer. It's a bit nerve-wracking to pull away and face Felix but you force yourself to, licking your lips as you retreat.

Your eyes immediately widen at the sight in front of you. A pretty, deep pink bruise begins to blossom on his neck and your heart skips a beat at the realization that you did that to him.

Felix hasn't said anything. Is he upset? You chance a glance at his face and—

Oh. His eyes are closed and a faint sheen of sweat coats his flushed face, which is pulled taught in a mixture of bliss and something like pain. His chest is heaving, breath coming out in quick gasps. You stare at him, the only thought in your mind being: God, he's gorgeous like this.

He blinks rapidly and seems to finally come to. When he finally refocuses his gaze on you, he lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a weak laugh.

“...Good?” he asks.

Good? Good? Your head is spinning. It's not good. Nothing is good. Life is meaningless and everything you know exists on a floating rock spinning in the void and you think you're gonna pass out and never wake up. It's not good. It's fucking crazy. But you just mumble, “It's… showing up, I think…”

He raises an eyebrow. “That right? Let me see then.”

Felix grabs his phone and pulls up the camera, angling it so he has a clear view of his neck. He lets out a soft whistle, bringing his hand up to feel where the hickey is. You watch dumbly as he presses his fingers on it and lets out a shaky sigh. Then he looks at you and grins before throwing you a thumbs-up. “You did great. It's already pretty dark.”

You actually want to kill him. Your brain is melting and he's acting like this is the most normal afternoon of his life. Maybe it is. Does Felix do this type of thing often? The thought makes you shiver.

You throw your hands over your face. “I-I didn't mean for it to be that—like—ugh…”

His smile softens. “Hey, hey, you don't have to be embarrassed. It's…” he searches your face for a second and suddenly reaches over to gently pull your hands away. “It's not that bad. You did really good. Besides, it’s my neck, yeah?” His tone shifts to more of a teasing one, like he’s amused you’re overreacting a little. It just serves to frustrate you more.

You sigh. “Um… I really—it's really okay..?”

He nods. “Yeah, of course it is. It’s just a little mark, nothing serious.” He looks at you thoughtfully for a bit and you feel yourself getting flushed under his gaze. “You know.. you can try it again. If you want. Just to practice. Or for science, or whatever.” He laughs.

What. You’re stunned into silence. Science? You stare at him incredulously and he just grins back before leaning even further forward. This can't be your Felix. This is actually crazy.

Felix smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “…Come on.” He brings a hand up to your face and pokes at your cheek softly. “Do it again. Try a different spot. Make it darker.”

He's obviously teasing you. So you're flabbergasted when what comes out of your mouth is, “W-Where..?” Where? Literally what are you saying. Like, where is the nearest exit? Where has your own sanity gone? That's what you should be asking.

He shrugs. “Anywhere. The other side?” He points to the unmarked side of his neck. Then he pushes his shirt down slightly, revealing a sliver of his shoulder and collarbone before looking back at you, eyes expectant with a bit of an impish gleam. “Maybe.. here?” he mumbles.

Your head spins. Oh yeah, you're definitely gonna pass out. It's so over. Life and death and the universe… fucking craziness. You're falling. You're dying. Everything is melting. Nothing's real.

Oh wait, you're actually falling, your head plopping down on his shoulder as you let out an embarrassed groan.

You hear him laughing softly. “Someone's eager—”

You’re a bit confused but then your eyes focus on the place your head is now laying and—Oh god, you’re right where his shoulder and neck meet. Right where he just told you to suck a hickey. Great.

You instantly lift your head up, face burning. “No, I didn't—I wasn't trying to—”

He brushes the hair out of your face. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not forcing you or anything. Are you overwhelmed?”

“Um, yeah, but— y-yeah. Sorry.” God. How pathetic do you look right now?

“Don't apologize. I was just teasing. It makes sense to be overwhelmed. It's a new experience.” He sits back and laughs but there’s a bit of a nervous waver to it. “You're fine, seriously. Maybe we got a little carried away, huh?”

“Uhh— yeah….”

He gives you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry for being pushy. Let's just... just forget about the whole thing, yeah? Let's play some video games or something.” He clears his throat.

He's moving on but your head is still spinning. This really is the most normal afternoon for him, you think. Because how is he so chill? Your body is still buzzing with nervous energy and you can't just switch off and forget about it, can you?

You can't. “Uh— Uh, wait—...”

“...Yeah?”

You drop your head back down onto his shoulder. “Um… is it bad if I… kinda…”

You trail off and he doesn’t respond for a few seconds. You don’t dare move, waiting for something, anything. When he finally does say something his voice sounds strained. “Kinda what?” he asks quietly.

“Um.” Fuck. “Nevermind.” You go to draw back but Felix quickly places a hand at the back of your head, preventing any movement.

You hear him exhale quietly. “I don't mind, you know,” he whispers. “You can do it. If you... if you want to.” He slowly starts running his fingers through your hair. “If you wanna practice. The more you practice, the more comfortable you'll be with it, right?”

You hum against his shoulder, the justification mulling around in your head. Of course. Of course that's why you want to. For practice. For science.

He continues. “Yeah, do it. Uh, j-just, I mean— if you want. A-As practice. Try to… see how dark you can make it… or… ” For all the talk he was making before, he stutters now, and you can't help but find it a little endearing. Maybe he's actually a little nervous as well.

Fuck it. Who cares. You've lost the plot. You press your mouth against his skin, giving a few open-mouthed kisses before gently sucking at it.

You hear his breathing stutter and he shifts slightly. “Yeah, j-just…” he lets out a shaky sigh and presses his hand a bit more firmly on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. The angle is still a bit awkward to reach, so without much thinking, you crawl slightly onto his lap.

“Oh,” he mumbles, his body goes tense for a second before relaxing again. He's completely still, like if he moves you’ll pull away, but eventually his fingers start running through your hair again. It isn't a particularly suggestive position, you're sitting back more towards his knees, but suddenly everything feels charged with tension.

You hear a low, almost imperceptible groan as you continue sucking lightly from the new angle. “You're doing really well,” he mutters encouragingly. “Just a little more… harder. And like, bite a little, remember?”

Right. You comply and bite down a little. Felix lets out a small whine, hand tightening in your hair. “Good… uh, just like that..” he mumbles. “You can try moving a little more, if you want—”

You don't need to hear more, instantly moving your mouth higher up his neck without much thought. His fingers slide down until his hands are completely resting between your shoulder blades, pressing you closer. Shivers run down your spine where he touches and you attach your lips to the side of his Adam's apple.

“A-Ah…” a shaky moan escapes him, taking both of you by surprise. His hands suddenly jump down to grip your waist tightly. Oh. He seems much more sensitive here. You swear you're dizzy. Maybe you're dying. You think you’re fine with that honestly.

You want to bite him. You let your teeth sink into the skin a little. He lets out a shaky half-laugh, half-groan, tilting his head back and pulling you towards him. “Y-You learn quickly.” A deep pink flush runs high on his cheeks, and his breaths are unsteady. You’ve never seen him like this, so undone, and it's making you feel powerful. You want more.

You decide to give in to that and bite down harder, feeling his body jerk. He moans, breathy, and whispers, “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that feels so good.” One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, fingers gently grasping the base of your hair. His thumb brushes up against your earlobe and for some reason it sets tingles off all down your spine.

…Does it really feel that good? You can't help but wonder. It mostly just felt weird on your arm but you suppose that's different. Different from your. Neck. Oh fuck, now you're thinking about it. His mouth on your neck. His mouth on your neck. You're floating. You're crashing. Everything is cool. Everything is burning.

Your brain is practically short-circuiting and you start sucking on the same spot before pulling back just enough to bite down and suck at it again, this time a little harder.

His breath stutters and you feel his head tilt to give you more access. There's another small gasp that comes out as a strained “Fuuuck…” when you continue. You think you're actually delirious at this point.

Then, “W-wait..” he says urgently, his chest heaving. His hand that was on your neck slides down to grab your shoulder now.

“That's… good. We should.. stop. I…” he pants heavily.

You pull away instantly. “O-Okay. Yeah. Sorry.” You feel restless, fidgety, more than just from nerves.

“No, you're fine, god. It's me. I'm getting too…” he shakes his head. “You did really good, I…” He presses his hands against his eyes and takes a few deep, slow breaths.

When he drops his hands he seems mostly back to normal. “Um.” He laughs a little. “We, uh… how's it look?”

You stare at his neck and shoulder. Oh, fuck. In truth, it looks fucking insane. Like he got mauled or something. Oh my god. That was you. What came over you?

He raises an eyebrow at your silence. “Guess I gotta see for myself,” he says and places his hands on your waist to lift you up and off of his lap. As if you weigh literally nothing. What the fuck.

With your head still reeling at how he lifted you like you're nothing, you don't really notice him reaching for his phone to see himself until you hear him suck in a breath.

“Wow… I'm gonna get so many comments tomorrow.”

“What?!” you shriek. Oh god. Of course it'll take a few days to fade. You hadn't even thought about that. The light mark on your arm is easy to brush off as nothing but the rosy hues on his neck are unmistakable.

He laughs. “I'm just kidding. I'll have to.. cover it with makeup I guess. Don't worry.”

“You better…” you mumble, embarrassed.

He hums. “Hmm… Well it isn't really fair... What should I do…” He leans in, studying your flushed face. “Wanna match?” he says with a cheeky grin.

“What?? Felix!”

“I'm joking! Jeez…” He pokes your cheek. “Unless all this blushing isn't just from embarrassment and you're actually into this?”

Your face is positively burning. “Shut up. You're annoying as hell,” you grumble.

He gasps dramatically. “After I gave up my sanctity for you to practice on me? This is how you treat me?”

You can't help but giggle at his dramatics but you quickly steel your expression and glare at him equally as dramatically.

You're really grateful everything seems to be normal on his end. You're trying your best to act the same, but in truth, you feel like a fucking mess. His joking comment about you being into this… No, definitely not. There's no way. It's probably just because it's your first time doing this with anyone, so of course it's going to feel crazy and weird and confusing. Right? Yeah. But still. Even long after the two of you move on, playing video games and hanging out like normal, you can't shake the feeling that something's weird. Something shifted. You don't know what the fuck it is though. You just try not to think about it.

How are you actually supposed to go back to normal after this?

—

a/n: so on a scale of 1 to 10 how painfully obvious is it that i've never given a hickey in my life.

no but um haha any feedback good or bad would be super appreciated!! pls leave a like or reblog if u enjoyed it makes me so happy. tysm for reading <3

786 notes · View notes

impishjesters · 8 months

Text

Aggression Distraction

warning(s): canonical character..death? (it's Kaufmo), nondescript type of panic/anxiety attack (honestly the whole thing glosses over exactly what type of mental state you are in, just that you aren't doing so hot after that experience), cursing, minor suggestive content note(s): This can be read stand-alone but goes in hand with my previous post about Jax with a partner (platonic or romantic) who suffers from depression/suicidal tendencies. Can be read as platonic or romantic but written with more romantic intention in mind, consider it like pre-dating romantics or whatever. A/N: It's worth mentioning that Jax's behavior is a little back and forth, which is intentional. This stuff is new territory for him, but you matter to him so he's trying to be a rock for you, he's just gonna be a little shit while doing it though. ♥ AO3 version

With the latest addition of Pomni and the recent departure of Kaufmo, things had taken a slight turn from the usual day-to-day. You weren’t particularly close to Kaufmo, but to see him abstracted like that? Someone you knew, for god knows how long to just..stop existing like that?

It was horrifying.

As nonchalant as Jax had been over the whole thing like he’d seen it a million times, it had yet to leave your brain. Even days later. Days? It’s still hard to tell the passing of time.

Jax had taken notice when your gaze lingered on Kaufmo’s old room, the large red ‘X’ over his face. Every time he’d swing by your room to pick you up or drop you off he’d catch you staring, and he knew it wasn’t a good thing. Sure, nobody really liked Kaufmo, and you knew him for an even shorter time than them, but he had an inkling what had you so..distracted for a better term.

The first day or two after the events left everyone a little thrown off. Pomni stuck by Ragatha like a little duckling, Gangle had taken to trying to fix her comedy mask, Zooble did whatever Zooble does, and Kinger? Yeah, nobody cared what he did. But you? You distanced yourself or tried to at least, Jax was never far behind.

It was sweet really, he’s still getting the hang of this whole situation the two of you got going on and it’s been going on for a while. Honestly? It’s almost scary how well he knows you and is able to silently confront you without you realizing something’s even wrong, like some weird sniffer dog.

The thought makes you giggle.

Jax’s head lifts and his gaze falls to you with a brow raised, it’s not the first time you’ve randomly giggled but usually there’s a reason, generally something he did. And he wasn’t doing shit worth giggling over. Waving him off that it’s nothing he shrugs it off and goes back to his little task that his torso is blocking.

To be honest, you aren’t even sure what he’s doing anymore, he kinda just showed up and said “I need my favourite doll for this new little prank, so get off your butt and come to my room.” And then proceeded to drag you off your bed and over his shoulder like a sack of rice into his room.

A prank that he has still yet to tell you if there even is one.

During the time spent together, there’s something you’ve managed to pick up in the way he always goes with the crowd. Sure there are times he’s alone, but it’s different, it’s like he wants to be alone compared to the times he seemed to be following others around simply because he didn’t want to be by himself. It was something you yourself used to do after all. Hanging out with people you didn’t really care about simply so you weren’t completely alone.

Now if you tried to confront him on this little theory, he’d no doubt make some comment about how he’s not sure if it’s sweet or creepy that you’re staring at him so intently. Then immediately follow up with some spiel about how he can’t watch funny stuff happen to others if he’s alone. “Think of all the funny shit I’d miss!” Or whatever.

“Are you ever going to tell me what this latest ‘prank’ is?”

“Mmm..” he hums as if debating, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell you it’ll be a—“nope!” Called it.

You wanna call him out that there isn’t even a prank, he’s not even doing anything other than sitting there polishing a…bowling ball? You sit up from your spot on his bed confused. “Is that.. the bowling ball from—”

“What you think I went back down to that creepy place just for this exact bowling ball?” he scoffs, this place has plenty of the damn things he doesn’t need that one.

As tempting as you wanna say yes, you know just how lazy and manipulative he can be. “You? No. Making someone else fetch it with some excuse about how it’s got meaning and worth to you? Now that I can see.”

His eyes squint as he throws a grin over his shoulder at you, one that looks almost painful if not for the fact that he’s almost always grinning.

“You know me too well sugar,” he turns to face you, bowling ball balancing in his hand like it weighs nothing to him, “but I hate to break it to you. This really is just a different bowling ball, but now you got me wanting to send Gangle down to see if she’ll actually do it.”

“Behave.” You playfully chide. It’d be hypocritical to say “poor Gangle” after all, you’ve also sent her on a wild goose chase once or twice, even if you felt a tad guilty later on.

He scoffs and places a gloved hand on his chest in mock offense. “I always behave. I’m the textbook definition of the word gentleman.”

“Oh yeah? In what book?” Slipping off his bed, you walk over to him and reach out to the bowling ball only for him to yank it out of reach. Even sitting the bastard has enough reach to keep anything away from you.

Jax waves his arm about every time you try to reach for the ball, there’s no real reason to keep it from you, he’s just fucking around at this point. Plus this little endeavor has kept you distracted and him mildly entertained. “Oh, now that’s just rude doll, have a heart.” You stop trying to get the ball and he waggles it at you like he’s trying to tempt an animal. “You don’t think I’m a gentleman?”

“A man? Yes.” You scoff and push the ball out of your face. “Gentle? Only when you want to be.”

He hisses and tosses the ball aside letting it roll away, no longer finding it fun. “So harsh, you really do wound me.”

You flinch at the loud thud, unsurprising at the lack of dent the ball should have created under normal circumstances. “Oh bite me.”

“Is that an invitation?” His shit-eating grin nearly splits his face in two, it’s a shame the others aren’t around, he loves seeing their reactions when the two of you banter like this.

Like an old married couple.

You roll your eyes and step into his personal bubble, one of his ears twitches out of habit and his shoulders tense but they gradually relax as you get yourself situated on his lap.

It takes everything in him not to spit out something insultingly sweet, he’s heavily aware of your mental state right now and that wouldn’t help. Though he really wants to joke about how this definitely seems like an invitation seeing as how you’ve walked into his bubble and made yourself at home on his lap. Maybe later.

Silence falls between the two of you, huddled up against him with your face buried into his chest. He pulls the blanket off his bed and drapes it around you, it’s not cold per say, but you had voiced once that you still liked the habit of curling up into a blanket. Specifically how you were a fan of blanket sushi? Much to his original confusion.

“You know I’ve seen some pretty gross things wrapped in seaweed, you by far are the grossest sushi-filling doll.”

To which your immediate reaction was to question whether or not he’d still try and eat you. That was definitely not something he thought would leave your mouth. Luckily his quick tongue bit back something along the lines of “Not while the playschool toys are around baby”.

Jax placed one hand on your back applying light pressure while rubbing small circles, the other falling loosely to rest on your lower back. Your arms tightened around him and he gave you a squeeze back, when you got too embarrassed early on to keep asking for him to squeeze you the two of you settled on this unspoken method of asking. And it wasn’t always limited to full-body squeezing either, you’d squeeze his hand, arm, or leg and he’d squeeze back.

The longer the silence went the more his irritation grew, not at you though, just overall irritation at the silence, at seeing you like this. Kaufmo’s abstraction itself wasn’t what had you like this, he knew you thought of it more like Kaufmo dying. Which, who’s to say that you weren’t wrong for thinking that? That thing wasn’t Kaufmo, and now he’s in the cellar doing whatever it is abstracted things do. If Caine couldn’t fix them they might as well be considered dead.

The topic of death and dying almost never came up in day-to-day conversation, maybe a joke here or there but nothing like this. And you were doing so well too.

If he had the ability to fall asleep he would’ve, not that it wasn’t cozy and domestic as shit being all huddled up with you, but he was getting bored. His leg began to wiggle, lightly bouncing you in the process, something you recognized as him being antsy and an unintentional aid in soothing you.

Another squeeze to the lilac torso resulted in another returned squeeze, except unlike the first time, the grip didn’t loosen. It wasn’t suffocating but grounding, the hand on your back stopped moving, and both hands were glued to your back to apply pressure like a weighted blanket. If asked, Jax would probably lay himself on you like an actual weighted blanket—but part of you felt like he’d enjoy that too much and force you into some shitty deal to get him off of you.

The thought sparked a tiny giggle, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Jax. What the fuck were you giggling about? Meanwhile, his ass is going numb (it’s not) sitting here holding you like he’s trying to wrestle a balloon and not pop it. Mood swings aside he’s grateful for the sound, it’s not much but it shows him you were coming out of it. Especially when the giggling starts to pick back up.

“What’s so funny you little brat? Finally gone bonkers?” It’s harsh but there’s a fondness in his tone that only causes you to giggle harder. The lost grin slowly returns to his face and he purposely jostles his leg harder now, bouncing you more chaotically.

The giggle turns into a full-on laugh and he can’t help but find himself grinning more at the sound. “Okay, okay! Enough jostling, I’ll lose more brain cells if you keep it up.”

“Oh, you still have those?” He chuckles. “Here lemme just.. shake those loose too.” Both of his legs wiggle, jostling you back and forth like a boat would, his arms caging you in so you don’t actually go flying.

You let out a squeal following more giggles and hold tightly to his neck until he comes to an abrupt stop. “Jeez, that’s a real workout on the legs..” he mumbles, letting out a little exhausted sigh.

“Hey you did that all on your own, you have only yourself to blame.” Your grip doesn’t leave him in its entirety as you shift on his lap turning sideways, he loosens his grip and grumbles out a “watch it” until you settle down.

After making grabby hands at the arm not trapped behind you he rolls his eyes and relents, giving you his newly free hand. It’s obvious that Jax is pushing his limit at both sitting still and being this vulnerable, and you could keep going on and just soak up the affection full well knowing he won’t actually blow up at you. The others however will pay the price of his pent-up aggression. Perhaps you could lessen that by…

You give his palm a few gentle prods with your thumbs like it’s a squish toy before bringing it to your face, moving it in such a way that allows him to take your jaw and squish your cheeks between his thumb and fingers.

And oh boy does he squish, a bit too roughly but it’s not unbearable as he moves your head side to side. He knows what you doing, letting him have some playful aggression with you to lessen what he’ll put the others through.

You’ve done it before but it rarely does much, he’ll play nice when you’re around then subject the others to his full bull shittery when you’re gone. It does give him a good chance to just fuck with you and squish those cheeks and rattle you around, you’re at his mercy and you happen to make some particularly cute little noises after all. It’s a nice and rare chance to soak up being able to have your face in his hand without him having to subject himself to any embarrassing vulnerable shit of outright asking to touch your face in such a.. intimate-like gesture.

His internal struggles are lost on you though, simply content on his lap, in his arms letting him squish and waggle your head around. You silently count down the minutes, or guesstimate the minutes until he’s had enough and lets you go. At least this time he has the decency to help you stand versus shoving you off his lap and onto the floor.

Jax brushes the imaginary dust from his clothes and puts a hand on his hip, gesturing the free hand towards you. “We done here babe?”

You nod, rocking back and forth before shaking your head. “Lean over real quick.”

He rolls his eyes and groans but does as asked, leaning over to be on your level. Before he can ask why he’s breaking his back you lean up and press a quick kiss to the side of his mouth before pulling away and racing out of his bedroom.

The grin slips for a split second while he processes that you literally had him lean down, just to kiss him and then bolt. That face-splitting grin returns as he strolls out of his room just to see you at the end of the hall giggling like a maniac.

“You know what? I’ll give you a head start, better hope I don’t catch you!”

You bolt off with a squeal and he chuckles, maybe when he catches you he’ll just settle all that pent-up aggression toward you—he’s long overdue for an intense tease session after all.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax

1K notes · View notes

joelscruff · 1 year

Text

one thing i'm missing (joel miller x reader) PART FIVE

i'm SO appreciative of all the kind words, it all means so much to me. thank you so much for reading & here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. masterlist | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: (for this chapter) fem!reader, smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), unprotected p in v sex (very tender & loving), cunnilingus, pet names, soft!joel word count: 5.1k

Pulling yourself out of Joel's arms was probably the most difficult thing you'd ever had to do, but you'd been standing there kissing in the hot spring for at least twenty minutes at that point, smiling at each other between stolen pecks and tender whispers. The way he looked at you now was still the same but somehow less guarded, more open. He didn't try to hide the way his gaze darted to your lips, to your breasts, to your legs and back up again. You felt so safe in his embrace, his fingers trailing up and down your back in a steady motion as he kissed you sweetly. You never wanted the moment to end.

But it had to. Ellie was waiting back at the cabins and it wasn't wise to leave her alone for much longer. You'd obviously checked the entire resort for infected but you'd been caught off guard before; it was always better to be safe than sorry.

“We need to go back,” Joel murmured against your lips, almost like he'd read your mind, and you felt yourself pout.

“I know, but I don't want to.”

He smiled, kissing you again, hands palming your shoulder blades, “I know. I could kiss you for hours,” he groaned playfully against your mouth, “Suddenly I'm sixteen years old again.”

“Cute,” you giggled, “I bet you were adorable.”

“I was a football player,” he teased, “Got all the cheerleaders.”

“Suuure you did.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You think I'm joking? They loved me. Don't I look like a cheerleader magnet?”

You rolled your eyes, “All my cheerleading knowledge comes from Bring it On, did you ever see it?” He shook his head, “It was a movie about cheerleaders, it came out a few years before the outbreak. I remember my sister rented it and let me watch it with her.” You smiled at the memory, it was one of the more concrete things you could remember from before the world had gone to shit.

He groaned again, shutting his eyes, “Please don't remind me how old you are, I just went from sixteen to fifty-six in about five seconds,” you laughed and he shook his head, trying not to smile, “I'm serious, I really do forget that you're...” he trailed off.

“Young?” you finished for him, “I know. I'm sorry. If I could change it I would. But unless we find a time machine out here I think we're stuck the way it is.”

“I just worry,” he was suddenly serious, brow furrowed, “You know, when we tell Ellie...she might think it's weird. I mean, she sees you kind of like an older sister, doesn't she? I don't want her to think I'm being a creep or something. That's half the reason it took me so damn long to...” he gestured between the two of you, “...do this.”

You stared at him for a second and grimaced.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “What's that face?”

“Well...um...Ellie actually knows.”

His hands dropped from you like he'd been shocked, “She what?”

“The whole time,” he said for about the tenth time as you walked with him down the overgrown path back to the cabins, both of you now fully dressed, “She knew the whole time.”

“I think that's a bit hyperbolic,” you patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, trying to keep up with his fast pace, “She didn't really know anything, and to be fair even I didn't really know what exactly this was between us until about an hour ago, so I mean...”

“I thought she had PTSD or something,” he gritted through his teeth, “I thought she was traumatized.”

“Turns out she's just a matchmaker.”

He rolled his eyes, “Please stop trying to make this funny, it's not funny.”

“Joel, slow down,” you grabbed his arm, “Stop.”

He huffed to himself but stopped in his tracks, spinning around to face you, “What?”

“This is a good thing,” you told him softly, trailing your fingers along his forearm soothingly, “Yes, it's surprising, yes it's kind of annoying that she never said anything, but wouldn't you rather this than the alternative?” your hand found his and squeezed it gently, thumb caressing his knuckles which now felt smoother from the soap and warm water, “She's not traumatized, she's okay.”

You watched his expression soften as you soothed him, slowly nodding at you and closing his eyes when you reached your hand up to stroke his face gently. He smiled at your touch, hand resting tenderly on your wrist as your finger traced the shape of his lips.

"Don't ruin today," you said quietly with a reassuring smile, "You just kissed me in a hot spring, let's focus on that."

He smirked, "Did a lot more than kiss you."

You bit back a laugh and started walking again, shaking your head, "You really are sixteen at heart, aren't you?"

Ellie had already finished her lunch by the time you both got back to the cabins. Admittedly, you would have gotten there sooner if Joel hadn't kept stopping every so often to admire you, appraise you, thumb your cheekbone and kiss you softly in the middle of the path. You weren't complaining though. You'd been waiting to see this side of Joel for so long, knew it was there somewhere beneath the surface just waiting to have a reason to come out. Turns out, that reason was you.

"How was the bath, Joel?" Ellie asked from her place at one of the picnic tables, journal open in front of her.

"Very... informative," he replied, voice a bit stiff, making direct eye contact with her.

She stared back at him in confusion, "Well that's ominous."

"I told him," you explained quietly beside him, and you watched guiltily as her jaw dropped.

"What the fuck?" she slammed her journal shut and extricated herself from the picnic table, then stomped over to you with a hellish glint in her eye, "Why would you do that?!"

"Ellie, I'm-"

"Look, I'm sorry if I crossed a line but you're the one who asked," she interrupted, face going redder and redder with every word, "I was gonna keep it to myself, I told you it was none of your business."

Your brow furrowed in response, confusion settling on your face. Joel, who obviously hadn't been there for the conversation, immediately began to defend you.

"She did the right thing," he said firmly, although his voice had become a bit more tender at Ellie's sudden surge of emotion, "I have a right to know."

"Neither of you have a right to know anything," Ellie growled, clutching her journal to her chest and backing away from the both of you, "Jesus, I may have been born after the outbreak but I thought this kinda shit was supposed to be private until the person themselves actually wants to talk about it."

Joel froze then, making a similar puzzled face as you, "Wait, what?"

You slowly began to put your hand up, lips parting, "Hold on, I think we're talking about two different things here."

Ellie's angry expression faltered, looking from Joel to you and back again in total bewilderment. She held her journal even tighter against herself and realization suddenly doused you like a bucket of cold water.

"Oh my god, Ellie, no. I didn't tell him about that," you gestured to her journal, shaking your head frantically, "I told him that you knew about us."

She froze, lips forming a small "o" as her grip loosened on her journal. The anger was gone but her skin had somehow gone even redder, "Oh."

"I'm confused," Joel said, eyebrows raised.

"And you're gonna stay that way, sorry," you winced, patting his arm carefully and trying not to feel too bad when he frowned at you, "Ellie and I, we talked about, uh, two completely different things earlier. She thought you were mad at her for...something else."

"For what?" Joel suddenly looked concerned, peering over at her again, "What else should I be mad about?"

"You actually wouldn't be mad about the other thing," you said quietly, eyeing Ellie again. Her eyes had begun to fill with tears and she was still standing there quite dejectedly, "It's just personal, girl stuff. Nothing to worry about."

"He might get mad," she suddenly said, biting on her lip and giving you a worried look, "He's old."

"Hey-" Joel began but you put your hand up again to stop him, shaking your head.

"He would never be mad about that, Ellie. Trust me," you took a few steps toward her and opened your arms a bit, "I'm not mad, am I?"

She nodded slowly, the tears fading before they'd had a chance to spill over, "That's true."

You closed the distance between the two of you and hugged her tenderly. It was the first time you'd actually shown her any physical affection; you'd been too scared to cross her boundaries before, worried it would trigger something deep within her about David. Obviously, those worries no longer existed.

She buried her face in your jacket, sniffling a bit, "This is so embarrassing," she whispered, voice muffled.

"Hey, it's okay," you whispered back, quiet enough so only she could hear you, "What you're feeling is totally normal, believe me," you pulled back a bit to look at her again, hand coming up to cup her face, "I only yelled earlier because you took me by surprise, you know that right?"

"I know," she nodded, "And I know I shouldn't have been looking at you. It's just...it's not like I'm ever gonna see another pair of boobs out here in the middle of nowhere. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

You laughed, rolling your eyes, "I get it, but yeah, no more looking at me like that, okay?" you scrunched up your nose, "It's not appropriate, I'm sorry. Not because I'm a girl but because I'm an adult. But after all this is over I'm sure you'll find a girl who will actually let you look at her boobs."

Her skin, which had faded back to a gentle pink as you'd spoke, suddenly surged a bright red again, and she began to pull away from your hug, "Okay, no more boob talk please," she groaned, "This is way too awkward for me to handle."

You chuckled and released her, stepping away and turning around to see Joel still standing there with a look of pure confusion etched all over his face. You walked back over to him and gave him a pat on the shoulder fondly.

"What was that all about?" he asked both of you, "Are we fighting or not?"

"Not," Ellie responded with a small smile, "Definitely not."

At around one o'clock you'd already overstayed your welcome at the springs and knew you had to get back on the proverbial road again. As much as you would have loved to spend another night in the cabin with Joel, in an actual bed, you both knew that time wasn't on your side. You still had a ways to go before Salt Lake City and you all just wanted to get it over with, have all of this behind you and be able to go back to Jackson with a clear conscious.

"So since you're not actually traumatized, we could probably start traveling by road again," Joel suggested about three hours into the days' hike, giving Ellie a semi-irritated look.

"You're never gonna let this go, are you?" she replied with a groan, "Come on, I did you a favor and you know it."

Joel flushed red and you giggled quietly, walking ahead of them a bit and listening to their familiar banter. It was so natural to settle back into things, the step you and Joel had taken together not really changing anything in the grand scheme of your little trio. It was a relief to hear them laugh together, rib each other, knowing Ellie was okay and Joel was okay and that was all that mattered.

Your mind kept playing back the image of him standing in front of you a few hours ago, baring himself to you, not just his body but his soul and his heart. My girl, he'd murmured to you in the spring, don't want anybody but you, you hear me? Nobody.

You smiled to yourself; you were his now. His girl.

Ultimately you all decided to stick to the heavy cover of the woods, knowing it was better to be safe than sorry. It would take a bit longer to get to the city but at least there was a less likely chance of one - if not all - of you dying before you got there. The forest just made more sense, and with it came the promise of another cozy night under your sleeping bag with Joel. It would be different this time, and you shivered at the notion.

"So you guys are together now, right?" Ellie asked a few hours later when you'd set up camp again, sun setting as she poked at the fire the way Joel had showed her.

You looked at Joel, unsure of what to say, but to your satisfaction he gave you a soft smile and then said kindly to Ellie, "Yeah, kiddo. We are."

Ellie had never set up her sleeping bag as far away from you as she did that night. You and Joel both watched as she settled into it and turned to face away from you, almost completely out of your eyeline and hidden by the dark branches of the trees. You'd both protested, but she'd been stubborn in her decision.

"You deserve alone time," she'd said, addressing you both like you were children and she was the adult, speaking slowly and clearly, "I'm giving you guys a free pass to be gross, please just let me."

"This is the most awkward conversation I've ever had," Joel had grumbled, head in his hands.

"Everybody poops, Joel," she replied, purposely trying to sound wise.

You'd both looked at her in confusion.

"Everybody poops," she repeated, "And everybody has sex."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Joel had groaned, and practically kicked her away from the fire, "Go to bed."

"I'm just sayin'!" she'd called back with a grin, making her way over to her faraway sleeping spot, "I can't hear you over here!" and she was right; once she'd gotten into her sleeping bag you couldn't even hear the rustle of the fabric, let alone see what she was doing.

"God, she is so much like Sarah sometimes," Joel muttered beside you, and your eyebrows went up in surprise at his mention of her, turning to peer at him gently. He smiled crookedly at you, "She used to try to set me up on dates with her teachers."

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh, "And how'd that work out?"

"Let's just say I'd lost my sixteen year old mojo by then," he replied with a grin, "Made Tommy go to the parent-teacher conferences so I wouldn't have to face 'em."

"Really? You were that against dating?"

He shook his head, "I wasn't against datin', just not with Sarah's much older and very married teachers."

You shrugged, "Nothing wrong with someone who's older, I think it's sexy," you wiggled your eyebrows and he rolled his eyes, tossing a pebble into the fire.

"Well, anyway, I did go on a few dates - ones that she didn't set up - but nothing panned out," he looked over at you and smiled tenderly, "Was waitin' for you, I think."

You scoffed, "Oh, now that's bullshit."

"No, sweetheart, that's flirting," he replied, and suddenly his hand was on your thigh, palm warm and flat through the denim, "Woulda thought you knew that."

Immediately your eyes fell to his hand, swallowing tightly at how large it was on your thigh, thumb gently stroking you through your jeans. You looked back up at him and involuntarily licked your lips, feeling a cascade of tingles flutter through your body when you saw him looking right at you.

"...Are we gonna have sex?" you asked bluntly, voice quiet, and the expression on his face changed from sensuality to shock as he released your leg and groaned, covering his face.

"How do you both do that?" he asked, voice muffled by his palms, "How do you just say shit without any thought?"

You covered your own mouth, trying not to giggle too loudly. He was right, you and Ellie both did have a bluntness about you, a desire to say what you felt before really thinking about it. You supposed asking him directly if you were going to have sex was probably not the sexiest thing in the world, but you were desperately out of practice.

"I'm sorry," you laughed softly, "I'm just... I'm not good at this. It's been a long time since I've...." you shook your head, "Like, I'm talking years, Joel. That long."

He gave you a smile and dropped his hands again, placing his left back on your thigh and squeezing it gently, reassuringly, "We don't have to, it's okay."

"But you want to," you replied immediately, "So do I, I'm just worried that..." your gaze scanned the tree line until you saw Ellie's still form, far away in the darkness.

"Let's just get in bed," he breathed, squeezing your thigh again, "We'll figure it out."

You felt yourself blush, starting to feel slightly self conscious as the reality of what was about to happen - because it was about to happen, you knew that - set in.

"Sleeping bag, you mean," you replied a bit breathlessly.

He cringed, "Oh. Right."

You both laughed and any tension you'd been feeling melted away in the warmth of his voice, the softness in his expression. You trusted him so much, you knew that if you asked him not to touch you he'd listen, would respect you completely. Your ears burned red as you shuffled over to the sleeping bag and thought alternatively that if you asked him to touch you, asked him to do pretty much anything to make you feel good, he'd do that too.

The safety you felt climbing underneath the sleeping bag beside him was unmatched; the last time you'd slept this way under the stars you'd still just been friends, allies, protectors. Now you were his girl, and you guessed that meant he was your guy. The thought made you smile.

You cuddled in close beside him, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. There was no more hesitation, no more questioning what anything meant, you were his and he was yours. Simple. Sweet.

You laid like that for a while, both of you secretly waiting until you were sure Ellie was asleep, even though you doubted she'd be able to hear you at this distance. Still, you waited, and so did he, just holding each other and quietly enjoying each other's company.

"I want to," you eventually told him softly, burrowing yourself into him more and inhaling his scent, so much fresher after his bath in the spring, "Take it slow, though, okay? Be...be gentle."

"Of course," he murmured, kissing your head again, "I'll go as slow as you need me to, I swear. The second I do something wrong, you tell me."

The next few minutes were pure bliss on their own as you both undressed each other in the darkness, feeling for buttons and zippers and laughing breathlessly as you exposed yourselves to one another again. It was different this time, laying there getting naked instead of standing across from each other. You reveled in how strong he felt beneath you, the way his fingers trailed up and down your back like they had in the spring, pulling you closer.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, and carefully flipped you so he was on top, his big hands gliding across your body hungrily, "Don't know how you're real."

His words made you feel so warm, so safe. Your hands came up and tangled in his hair as he leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue dancing across the sensitive little bumps that trailed across the flesh. You whimpered and pulled slightly at his curls, soft and silky under your touch.

You felt one of his hands snake down your torso and cup you where you were completely bare for him, already wet and begging to feel him. His finger slipped between your soft lips, opening you up for him and rubbing circles into your clit gently. He continued to suckle at your breast, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin in the best possible way.

He pulled back to look up at you, eyes hooded and lustful, "Feel good, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you breathed, voice breaking, "Feels so good, Joel. Need more."

He smiled at you knowingly and pressed one final kiss to your nipple, thumb tracing it lightly before he slowly began to shuffle downward beneath the sleeping bag. You watched in slight confusion before you realized where he was going, what he was doing.

"Oh, fuck," you whispered, and he looked up at you again.

"Gonna taste you, that okay?"

You nodded, cheeks flushing a bright red, "If you want to."

He chuckled like you'd said something funny and pressed a tiny kiss to your hip bone, wet and warm, "I want to, baby. I've wanted to."

You watched with your lip between your teeth as he disappeared beneath the confines of the sleeping bag. Part of you wanted to lift it up and watch, but you weren't sure you could handle that level of vulnerability, not when you were already feeling so shy. You just closed your eyes and leaned your head back, taking deep breaths and focusing on the way his lips pressed more gentle kisses back and forth along your hips, your belly, your thighs. He was so tender, so sweet, so loving, it almost made you want to cry.

When he licked a gentle stripe along your center you felt yourself involuntarily begin to fist the blanket beneath you in both hands, trying not to make too much noise as he tasted you for the first time. His breath was so hot against your pussy, his lips damp and tongue so wet as he circled the tip of it around your clit, one of his hands pressing flush against your stomach, the other snaking up to your inner thigh to hold you open. You shook in his grasp, feeling yourself drip down onto the blanket, shaking even more when he pulled back to lap up what he could from one of your thighs.

"Joel," you moaned softly, eyes still closed as you reached down and felt for his hair, tugging on it gently.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, waiting for your reply before he went any further.

"Yes," you whined, "More." You didn't know where this demanding version of yourself had come from but he didn't seem to be complaining, chuckling softly to himself as he leaned back in to taste you again. He sucked gently on your clit, his beard pressed firmly against your throbbing hole. You couldn't see him but you knew he was probably covered in your wetness, practically dripping in it. The thought made you tense up, stomach tightening as you felt his tongue slip from your clit to your entrance and slowly prod its way inside.

"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fingers tightening in his hair, "Right there."

Listening to your encouragement, he pushed his tongue further inside of you, nosing your clit and holding you open a bit wider. He moved his hand from your stomach and brought it down to touch your pussy, slicking up his fingers before delicately pressing one in alongside his tongue. You writhed beneath his touch, pulling his hair probably a bit harder than you'd meant to, but he didn't seem to care.

"Gonna come," you said it apologetically, slightly ashamed as your legs squeezed his head between your thighs as he continued to fuck you with his tongue and finger, nose still pressed firmly against your clit like it belonged there. He didn't say anything, didn't stop, just kept licking and sucking and fingering until you were a complete mess, whimpering out his name hopelessly in the darkness. He kept going throughout your whole orgasm, only stopping when you told him to, completely overstimulated.

"You doin' okay?" he asked you softly, crawling back out from underneath the sleeping bag. You were right; his face was glistening with your release, beard wet and shining.

You reached up and touched his wet chin, scrunching up your nose, "I'm sorry."

He looked surprised by your words, "For what?"

"You're a mess," you replied, feeling embarrassed, "And I came too early."

He shook his head with a smile, "Sweetheart, the mess is the best part."

He didn't want you to suck him, admitting to you with a hint of guilt in his voice that he would end up coming before getting to actually be inside you, and you made a mental note to make sure you tasted him next time. It was only fair.

Plus, you wanted to. Very badly.

You now found yourselves laying underneath the sleeping bag again, him spooning you from behind and kissing your neck as he fingered you steadily, groin pressed firmly against you. It was so different now that you were both naked, his cock sitting large and heavy against your ass while the head bobbed back and forth along your lower back, leaving your skin sticky and wet. Your eyes were closed, a stream of whines and whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed a third finger inside and fucked you slowly, whispering things in your ear that you'd only dreamt of.

"Takin' my fingers so well," he murmured, kissing your ear tenderly and pulling some of your hair back and out of your face, "Gotta get you ready for my cock, don't wanna hurt you, baby."

"I need it," you moaned, leaning back into his touch, feeling his hand reach down to cup one of your breasts, "Joel, please, I'm ready."

"Okay, sweetheart," he whispered, "Lay on your back for me."

Lying there underneath the sky as Joel situated himself above you, seeing his gorgeous body silhouetted against the shape of the moon and the twinkling of stars, you knew in that moment that this was exactly where you were supposed to be. You watched with tender fondness in your eyes as he placed his hands above you, leaned down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, and aligned himself at your entrance.

"I'm so glad you exist," you breathed, wanting him to know how you felt, wanting him to feel it the way you'd felt it that first night.

"Baby," he breathed, brow furrowing as the head of his cock slipped inside you slowly, "I don't exist without you."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he pushed himself inside inch by inch, watching your face and making sure it felt good, making sure you wanted it. You'd never wanted anything more in your life than you wanted him at that moment.

He found a rhythm easily, fucking into you slowly and steadily while he cradled your head and peppered kisses all along your skin, showing you continuously how much he wanted you. In response you held him tighter, hands pressed flush against the width of his strong back as he plunged in and out of you. Every so often he'd make sure to look directly in your eyes, give you those special smiles he reserved especially for you, and whisper to you how good it felt.

"You're so big," you whispered, voice broken and weak, "So fucking big."

"Doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked, slowing a bit and peering down at you with concern, "Don't need me to stop?"

You shook your head frantically, "No, don't stop, feels so good, Joel," you looked up at him earnestly, feeling tears prick in your eyes, "Go faster, please."

He didn't need telling twice, picking up his pace, bringing down one of his hands to thumb your clit as he fucked you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You dug your nails into his back, eyes shutting tightly as he pounded into you over and over.

"Where do you want me to come, sweetheart?" he groaned in your ear, breath hot against your skin, "Tell me where, quick."

"Anywhere," you whimpered, biting down hard on your lip as he rubbed your clit furiously, wanting to get you there at the same time as him, "You can come anywhere you want, please."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, "Tell me when you're coming, wanna come with you, baby."

"I'm close" you replied almost immediately, eyes going wide as you watched him start to fall apart above you, "Oh my god, don't stop, don't stop." you gripped his wrist tightly as he pressed harder on your clit, sending you over the edge, "Right there, Joel, right there."

You felt him pull out of you as you began to shake with your orgasm, body convulsing underneath him as he aimed his cock at your breasts and painted you with his come, marking you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, his fingers still stimulating your clit over and over until you'd finished.

"Oh my god," he groaned, deep and husky, the last few aftershocks wracking through his body as he released his fingers from your clit and brought them to his cock, slicking himself up as he fisted himself a few more times, small spurts of come still pulsing out of him and onto your chest.

"Fuck," you breathed in response, throwing your arms above you and laying there panting. The stars had somehow moved from the sky and were now permanently dancing behind your lids, white and sparkling every time you closed your eyes.

Your body was heavy and warm, relaxed and satisfied. You didn't want to move. And you didn't have to, feeling Joel wipe you gently with some of the toilet paper you'd stolen from the resort, taking extra care to make sure he cleaned your thighs as well. Eyes still closed, breath becoming more and more even, you felt him swipe the tissue along your breasts, slow and gentle.

"Almost done," he murmured, ripping off another piece and pressing it to your forehead where you realized you were practically drenched with sweat. He wiped it off and stroked your hair, kissing your temple lightly before settling in beside you. He pulled you in close, his body still naked and warm, heart pounding quickly against your back.

"I love you," you whispered into the darkness.

He pulled you impossibly closer, nosing your neck and breathing you in, "I love you," he whispered, like he'd said it a thousand times before.

And maybe he had.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fic #*#fic: one thing i'm missing

1K notes · View notes

illegal-spiegel · 1 year

Text

You Take My Breath Away

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x gn!reader (x Chuuya Nakahara)

Genre: Fluff?, angst, hurt/comfort?

Warnings: this fic contains dark content. if you don't like that, please keep scrolling and dni. S2 spoilers, strangling (bloodshot and swollen eyes, bruised and sore throat, can't speak, etc.), murder/death, throat slitting, blood, Dazai is overly protective ig, toxic behavior overall, typical su!cide mention from Dazai

Summary: Dazai gets protective over you when you get hurt, on more than one occasion, and takes matters into his own hands to make sure they never hurt you again.

WC: 7.5k

Read on AO3!

You giggle like a schoolgirl as Dazai tickles your sides, your face starting to hurt from how hard you’ve been smiling. That always seems to happen to you when Dazai is around. “Quit it!” you squeal, smacking at Dazai’s hands.

Dazai only seems to chuckle and continue his evil acts against you. “Say the magic words!” he bargains.

“Never!” you shout, leaning away from him and bumping into Atsushi who is sitting right beside you. He doesn’t seem to mind it though, he just watches you both with a fond smile on his face. “Atsushi! Help!” you cry, tears lining your eyes the longer and harder you laugh.

“No one can save you now! You’re at my mercy!” Dazai shouts back, waiting for you to say the magic words that will rid you of his tickling.

And listen. You tried to hold out, you really did! But you’ve known Dazai for more than seven years now and he knows all your most ticklish spots by now.

“Okay! Okay!” you concede. He slows his fingers but doesn’t stop them. “Dazai is the most handsome, funniest, smartest guy ever, and I smell like rotten eggs!” As soon as you finish, Dazai lets up. He stays hovering above you though from where you leaned away from him, a soft smile on his face.

“Awe, you really think so?” he coos, fluttering his lashes at you.

“No,” you wheeze, holding your poor, aching sides. “I mean yes! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you screech, a scared laugh escaping you when he threatens to tickle you again.

“Hm. That’s what I thought,” he says as he sits properly in his seat.

You pant as you sit up straight as well, waving your hand at Atsushi as an apology. Then again, the little traitor didn’t even try to help you. “The train is sure taking a while,” the white-haired man suddenly comments. You hum, pushing your hair out of your face as you nod in agreement.

You raise a brow as Dazai suddenly stands up, face blank and serious. “There’s an urgent errand I need to carry out,” he announces, staring out at the tracks in front of him.

“What is it?” Atsushi asks with great urgency, seemingly nervous. You can’t help but smirk. You’d bet every last penny you own that Dazai is about to say some dumbass shit.

“I need to use the bathroom!” he cries, hands going over his crotch as he starts to do a peepee dance. Atsushi’s face falls as he stares at the higher-up, unbelieving he just said that. You only end up cracking up, laughing as you watch him dance in one place. It makes your sides ache but in the best way possible.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Permission?” you tease, smirking at the man. He continues to stare you down as he dances from foot to foot faster and faster. You snort and roll your eyes. “Okay, go,” you say playfully, waving him off.

“Thank you!” he cries, zooming away. “Ah! I’m not gonna make it!” This causes you to snort again. You don’t know why he insisted on holding it for so long then. You look over at Atsushi and only laugh harder at how bewildered he looks.

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” you reassure him, patting him on the back. He turns to look at you now, giving you a small smile.

“I always thought Dazai was so cool and mysterious…but…” You raise a brow when he trails off, jumping to conclusions.

“But he’s a bit of a dumbass?” you guess, chuckling. Atsushi goes tense, nervous about referring to his higher-up in such a way, especially since it seems that Dazai has ears everywhere. He glances at the way Dazai went before slowly nodding his head with a laugh of his own.

“Yeah, something like that,” he agrees, his chuckles dying down when you both hear the train whistle a bit a ways. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he suddenly asks.

“Yes, I’ll help you hide a body, but only if you killed them with good reason,” you respond, completely serious. At his flabbergasted look, you snort and nudge his arm with yours. “I’m kidding.” He relaxes. “Sort of.” You laugh when he tenses up again, his body relaxing when he realizes you’re just messing with him again. You and Dazai love pulling pranks on him together.

Speaking of…

“How long have you and Dazai been dating?”

Your laughter instantly dies and you feel choked up all of a sudden. “Wait what-”

“I mean, I figure it’s been a while. You two share your affection so openly and he’s always going on and on about you-”

“Wait what-”

“So I was just curious how long it’s been. You two seem really happy together.”

At the last part, any reply you had ready to go suddenly dies on your tongue. You two seem really happy together. What the fuck are you supposed to say to that? You two aren’t even talking talking, let alone dating. Where did Atsushi get an idea like that? Have the others said something? Or is this a prank that Dazai is pulling on him and forgot to let you in on it?

Before you can think of a response though, the train is arriving. You sigh in relief as you two both stand up and walk towards the train, looking left and right for Naomi and Haruna.

“Haruna, Naomi!” you hear Atsushi shout. You turn to look at him before looking past him to see the two girls. You sigh in relief a second time, a smile coming to your face. Thank goodness. “Are you alright?” he asks when you get close enough to them.

“We are. I never thought they’d come after the clerks in the office,” Naomi responds with a warm, relieved smile.

“At least you’re safe now!” Atsushi says brightly.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re alright,” you agree, giving the girls a smile to which they return. “We’re gonna escort you both to the extraction point,” you add on.

“Oh! I wanted you to meet someone!” You raise a brow at this, turning to look towards the train when Naomi motions towards it and turns to face it. “We got to know each other a little on the train.” With that, a small child comes walking out, holding a creepy doll. You raise a brow when he bumps into Atsushi and just starts laughing. Someone needs to teach this kid some manners…

Your brows furrow when the kid suddenly turns and rolls up their sleeve to show off…

What is that?

Are those…razor blades taped to his arms? Alarm bells immediately start going off in your head. Something isn’t right here.

“Wanna play a game?” the kid suddenly asks, a maniac grin on his face.

Before you could respond, Atsushi starts mumbling to himself. You turn to look at him, finding his eyes are leaking what appears to be blood. “Atsushi?” you say unsurely, reaching out toward him.

“You mentioned before that you came here to protect me…” Dazai says unsurely, trying to put the pieces together. When things suddenly click into place, he gasps before spinning to face the way he came. “Dammit!” he shouts before taking off. “No, no, no! Fuck!” he hisses, running back to you two.

He swears, if Q has done anything to yo-

He comes around the corner only to find you being dangled in the air, Atsushi holding you up by your throat while growling and grunting. Dazai lets out a growl of his own as he sprints toward the man. He’s not thinking clearly. What should he do?

He dashes past the two other women who seem to be harmed but overall fine. He wraps his arm around Atsushi’s throat and presses heavily on his windpipe. Now that he’s closer, he can see that your eyes are bloodshot and they’re starting to roll back into your head. How long has he been holding you like this? Why aren’t you using your ability? Do you not want to hurt Atsushi?

To his horror, Atsushi ignores Dazai and continues to strangle you. Dazai doesn’t want to hurt him since he knows it isn’t actually him, but he’s running out of options. His eyes flicker this way and that way looking for a solution.

This is when his eyes spot the doll.

Dazai quickly lets Atsushi go before bolting toward the hideous toy, picking it up, and instantly screaming, “Ability: No Longer Human!” His power surges through the toy and he turns to find Atsushi snapping out of it. He gasps as he lets you go, your body hitting the ground hard. Atsushi grasps at his throat where Dazai had choked him.

Dazai barely looks at him though as he hurries over to you. He lifts your body to cradle you in his lap, brushing your hair out of your face and his hands ghosting the marks on your neck. “(Y/n)?” he whispers, his whole frame shaking as he clutches you close.

You let out a wet, ragged cough before slowly blinking your eyes open, tears cascading down your cheeks. “I-” you try to force out, but it seems you can’t make any further noise.

“Shh, don’t try to speak. You might damage your vocal cords further,” he advises. He lifts his head and does a quick survey of the area. The other two ladies are indeed fine. Hurt, but fine.

But where’s Q?

“Your new friends are so fragile, Mr. Dazai!” he whips his head around to find Q smiling at him on the train as it starts to shift forward. “But don’t worry! What I really look forward to is breaking you–whether that be through you directly or your new love here!” Q giggles and continues to grin at him maniacally. “Remember how you made me suffer? Soon you’re going to feel that pain, Mr. Dazai!”

“And instead of capturing you next time and showing you mercy by simply ripping your heart out, I’ll torture you slowly and painfully until you're begging me to kill you,” he responds darkly with a sinister expression. Q had his mouth open to respond but goes quiet, eyes wide. He wasn’t expecting such a terrifying response for some reason. They stare at each other as the train takes Q further and further away.

You’ve never seen Dazai so angry before and you don’t even know why he’s so mad. The world sounds like it’s underwater, or like you have cotton stuffed in your ears. He isn’t mad at Atsushi, is he? It wasn’t his fault. You need to tell him that.

You reach up and loosely grip the lapel of his coat, weakly tugging on it as you try to speak. All that comes out though is breathy whines and wheezes, words unable to be formed. He turns to look at you, his grip suddenly tightening on you. “Shh, I know. It’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s all over. Everything’s alright. I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You close your eyes, the last of your tears falling down your cheeks. He pulls back when you suddenly go slack in his arms, his eyes widening a tad when he realizes that you’ve passed out. He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, cradling you close to his chest. That was close, too fucking close.

“I'm such a screwup.” Dazai opens his eyes and turns to look over at Atsushi, finding the man crying as he stares at the marks blooming on your neck. “That should be me, not them. I shouldn’t even be alive. I don’t deserve to be alive…”

Dazai doesn’t know why, but hearing him talk like that angers him further. Yes, it should be him hurt instead of you. It should be Dazai. It should be any of them but you. You should never be hurt. You weren’t even supposed to come with them today.

Dazai watches for a moment as Atsushi pathetically cries and blubbers on about who knows what. Dazai slowly and gently sets you down on the concrete before moving in front of Atsushi. “Atsushi,” Dazai grunts, frowning down at the man.

Atsushi lifts his head, his eyes red from his crying. Before Atsushi could even blink, Dazai is slapping him across his face. Hard. “Pull it together. They wouldn’t want you talking like that,” he mumbles before instantly turning back to you. They need to get you back to HQ stat.

* When you wake up, you feel like your throat was run over by a motorcycle. And then they reversed over it again just to make sure they got the job done. Your hands shakily come up to gently clutch your throat, your vision a little blurry until you blink a few times. Even then though, things are still a little blurry out of one of your eyes.

You try to move your head only to be met with pain in your neck. You slowly take a deep breath, finding it a little hard to breathe, before trying again. You take your time in sitting up, making sure not to move your head or neck too much. Your eyes go wide when you see a head of brown hair on your bed, and a chair keeping him close. You smile and slowly reach over to card your fingers through his hair.

You barely get to do so though since he’s suddenly springing up. You gasp and rear your hand back from the shock, hissing when it causes you pain. “You’re awake! Woah! Stop! Okay!” he screeches, going into panic mode when he sees your face contort into one of pain. You weakly laugh, it sounding nothing like your usual laugh. This one is all scratchy and hoarse, your throat sore and dry. Your laughter quickly stops when it becomes too painful.

“Wait! Okay! Everyone remain calm!” he continues to shout even though you two are the only ones in the room and he’s the only one panicking. You smile hard. “You want some water? Never mind, you need to drink some. You’ve been out for a while.” And with that, he’s zooming off to assumedly get you some water.

You’re not alone long before he’s back, offering you a glass of water with a stick poking out of it. You take the stick out to see a sponge at the end of it. At your bewildered look, Dazai explains, “Akiko said that you might not be able to drink very well, so the sponge will give you smaller amounts to drink and make it easier to swallow.” You smile at him and nod your head before starting to do just that. Your throat aches with each swallow, but the water feels good.

Dazai suddenly grabs something from the desk beside you and sets a notepad and pen in your lap. “I want you to use this instead of trying to talk, okay?” he says softly, hand resting on top of yours for a moment before letting go. You nod your head and hand him the water before picking up your pen.

Where’s Atsushi + the others? They okay?

You hold up the notepad for him to see, watching his eyes flicker over the words. His face hardens for a moment, just a split second, before relaxing again. He huffs out a laugh as he says, “Of course that’s the first thing you say.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, they’re alright. They’re all resting. It was a crazy day.” You nod your head, letting out a small sigh. Is Atsushi really okay? “You can see them soon enough. Akiko and I agreed that you need your rest and shouldn’t have any visitors until you’re better.”

You raise your brow at this. Then why are you here mister? You turn the notepad for him to see, smirking at him. Your smirk only grows when you see some color come to his cheeks and his eyes shift away from you completely.

“I’m your hot nurse, of course. All patients need one,” he replies playfully. Despite his joke, your chest flutters at his kindness. You smile softly as you reach out to him, setting your free hand over his. He instantly flips his hand over to properly hold your hand, weaving your fingers together. “Besides, I told you that you can’t die without me. You’re the only one I’ll commit double suicide with,” he jokes further, smirking at you now.

You let out a weak laugh and roll your eyes. Typical Dazai.

It didn’t take long for you to be up and out of bed. Everyone knows that you never stay down for long, even if you have the worst injuries of them all. You hate being bedridden, especially when something like this is going on.

Currently, you’re looking over some files of what’s been going on while you were out of commission. The Guild are some serious bad guys, and that’s coming from someone who used to be a part of the-

“I really don’t feel like working.”

You lift your file a bit to look down into your lap where Dazai has made himself home. His face is smushed into your tummy and his butt hangs high in the air. You smile at the position. He’s such a dork.

“Are you seriously going to mope around like this the whole morning?” You look up to find Kunikida there. You smile up at him and his hard expression relaxes when he sees your cheery face. “Good morning, (Y/n). How are you feeling?”

“Right as rain, Kida!” you greet. At your chipper voice, Dazai whines and wiggles his ass in the air.

“Any other time I’d be up for having this conversation with you, but not now, please,” he whines, shoving his face further into your body.

“What happened to the energetic young hero who just helped save this town from the brink of destruction?” Kida asks in a monotone, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh.

“Boss has me lined up for this new job and I don’t wanna,” Dazai cries, giving a fake sniffle, causing you to roll your eyes. Dazai continues to wiggle his ass in the air and you grin wickedly as you reach out to slap it. Dazai jumps with a yelp, turning his head a bit with his jaw dropped. “Kunikida! I didn’t know you felt this way,” he playfully purrs to the shocked man.

Kunikida’s cheeks go red as he huffs, his hands now placed onto his hips. “Is that the same one Atsushi and the boss were talking about yesterday?” he asks curiously, completely ignoring Dazai’s comment.

Before anyone can respond though, the boss man himself is suddenly appearing behind Kida. “Correct.” Dazai lifts his face to turn and look at him, grunting as he rolls over to face the two now, keeping his head in your lap.

“Good morning, sir,” Kida greets the older man, reminding you of a soldier in the army with the way he’s acting.

“Dazai, (Y/n),” he says, completely ignoring the man and causing you to pout. Always so serious and straight to the point. “What’s the status of that meeting with the Port Mafia?”

“I’ve made the arrangements,” Dazai reports. You smirk when you see Kida’s face go into shock, eyeing the three of you.

“Do you think their boss will come?” he asks.

“I’m sure he will,” you answer.

“It’s the perfect opportunity for him to kill you, after all,” Dazai adds, smirking a bit.

Fukuzawa closes his eyes for a moment and gives a slight nod. “I’d prefer that to having bloodshed amongst our people,” he says as he walks off. You sigh and look down at Dazai when he groans, discovering that you’ve been combing your hand through his hair the whole time. Oops.

“Hey, Dazai, (Y/n)...” Kida starts softly as Dazai whines and wiggles around in your lap like a child when you stop playing with his hair. “What’s the secret meeting with the Port Mafia all about?” Kida suddenly shouts, causing you to jump. Dazai simply rolls to a stop in your lap, overall seeming unbothered by the man’s raised voice. Typical.

“Well, I have to admit that our little Atsushi’s idea has really snowballed,” Dazai sighs, staring out the window.

“Since The Guild is now our biggest threat, it only makes sense for us t-” you start to explain before Kunikida suddenly cuts you off.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” he shouts, speaking a mile a minute. “I’m totally lost here…” Kida admits, rubbing the back of his head. “First of all, why are you guys the ones arranging this meeting?” You open and close your mouth, unsure of how to answer. You tilt your head down to look at Dazai, finding him a bit wide-eyed. He turns to look at Kida now as if Kida should know the answer to that already.

“Because we used to be with the Port Mafia?”

Kida’s entire face goes blank with confusion and shock. “Huh?”

“Oh!” Dazai suddenly realizes, expression lighting up. “Did I not tell you that? My bad!” he hisses, giving him a ‘sorry’ look.

“What?” Kida shouts, making you flinch back a bit. These two are always such a rowdy bunch.

“Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” you apologize, giving him a sorry smile. He just blinks and stares at you stupidly, making your smile grow. Yeah, guess it is some pretty shocking information.

“You were in the Port Mafia?” he asks you, jaw completely unhinged. “Dazai I can actually understand. But you?”

“Hey!” Dazai whines with a pout.

You and Dazai come to a stop in front of the abandoned building. You place your hands on your hips as you look around you. “Well, this doesn’t seem suspicious at all,” you say sarcastically.

“Are you sure you should be here?”

You turn to look at Dazai, smiling over at him. “As I told you a hundred times before, I’m fine.”

“I don’t want you here…” Dazai mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns to face you.

“And who’s going to stop you from murdering Q as soon as you lay eyes on him?” you respond, sighing as you place a hand on Dazai’s chest and the other staying on your hip, feeling him relax under your touch. Chuuya probably wouldn’t give two shits.

Before he can respond, lights are suddenly cutting on around you. You turn to look at the lights, squinting at how bright they are. You raise a brow when you hear many guns being cocked, your hand falling from his chest as you turn to face your enemies.

“Pleasant evening, isn’t it?” Steinbeck asks, eyeing you from afar. “You even brought a date!” he teases Dazai. You remain expressionless as you study the two men in front of you. Are these guys serious? “Hm, seems our strategist has hit the nail on the head once again in predicting your movements,” he continues.

Dazai slowly turns to face them, a smirk resting on his lips as he watches them with amusement. “Figures it’d be a trap…”

You two stand side by side as you assess the situation in front of you. Now if only a certain someone would show u-

A rock comes soaring from the air and crashes into the crowd of men surrounding you, taking out a big chunk of their numbers. “About time…” you mumble, tilting your head back to look up into the sky as the redhead slowly floats down to the ground. You hear Dazai grumble angrily beside you as he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on it.

“Let me set one thing straight,” Chuuya starts as he stares down the enemy, hands resting on his hips, “(Y/n) is not Dazai’s date.” You huff and roll your eyes at the man. That’s what he has to say right now out of all things?

“Says who? Did you invite them here?” Dazai asks. Chuuya opens his mouth to answer him, but Dazai swiftly cuts him off. “No, I didn’t think so,” he sassily finishes. He sighs and tosses his head back. “Man, I knew there was a reason that today was gonna suck,” he mumbles. Ah, so it seems they didn’t fill Dazai in on this part of the plan. Probably a good idea, honestly.

“The hell?” Steinbeck suddenly shouts. “I never heard anything about this in the strategic forecasts!”

Just as Steinbeck starts to grow a plant from his hand to attack Chuuya, Dazai comes up behind him and touches his shoulder. “Sorry, I can’t let you do that,” Dazai sighs out, canceling the man’s ability.

“Gah! The canceling ability,” he huffs, sweat lining his forehead.

“This is such a drag,” Dazai groans, stomping his foot like a child. You giggle and bump his hip, causing him to almost fall over.

“At least you’re with me,” you coo playfully. At this, he instantly perks up and sighs dreamily.

“You’re so right, my beautiful (Y/n).” Your cheeks start to flush, but you’re pulled out of the mini moment by Chuuya.

“Hey! Stop flirting! We’re on a mission here!” Chuuya hollers as he flies into the air in front of Steinbeck using his ability and kicks the blond away from the three of you.

After this, Chuuya comes to stand at your other side, slipping his jacket off as he surveys the group around you. He drops it onto your head, to which you give an offended ‘hey!’ You smirk to yourself though as you start to slide it on.

“For crying out loud…this is the worst day I’ve had in years,” Dazai grumbles.

You brush off your hands as you follow the two men inside, Chuuya laughing at Dazai’s expense. “If the day comes when you two get along, I’ll know the world is ending,” you joke, starting to head down the staircase inside the building.

“What will you do on your last day on Earth?” Chuuya asks, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You turn to look at him, smirking as you lean into his space.

“Why? Got any good ideas?” you purr, bringing your face close to his. He sputters in surprise, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, unsure of how to respond. You cackle as you pull away and walk ahead of him, your laughter calming down when you find Dazai glaring at you both.

“I’ll have you know that if there was only one day left on Earth, (Y/n) would be spending it with me and we’d be having a great time,” Dazai scoffs, leading the way down the stairs. You bite your lip to try and contain your smile as you follow after him.

“Ha! As if they’d want to spend it with you of all people!” Chuuya laughs, pointing at him from behind you.

“Yeah? And why not?” Dazai fires back.

“Boys,” you warn, coming to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and turning back to look at them to find them glaring at each other. You huff, blowing hair out of your eyes.

You then turn to look into the dimly lit room, finding Q pinned to the tree with his doll sitting right beside him on the chair. “He’s here!” you announce, hoping that will distract them. Luckily for you, it does.

Also unluckily for you though, Dazai comes marching right down the stairs and heads right for Q with a murderous intent in his eyes. “Dazai!” you shout, grabbing ahold of his arm and using all your might to hold him back. “Stop it!”

“What’s with him?” Chuuya asks confusedly. He’s never seen the brunet so worked up before, especially over this. Is there something he doesn’t know?

“Just help me!” you screech at the shorter male.

Chuuya quickly jumps into action and grabs his other arm. “Hey, meathead! Would you cool it for a sec?” Chuuya shouts at the man.

To your relief, he lets up. To your disappointment, he turns his anger onto Chuuya. “No! Do you know what he did to them?” he shouts, backing the man up into the wall opposite from Q. You sigh as you rub your hand over your forehead.

“Dazai, enough-” you start. You go ignored though.

“No, I don’t know. Enlighten me,” Chuuya snaps. He reminds you of a cat who’s been backed into a corner and has its hair bristled.

“Chuuya! Don’t-”

“They almost died because of him, and I’ll be damned and sent right to hell if I let him get away with it,” he says lowly, fists shaking from the rage brewing inside of him. You walk over to the duo, setting your hand on Dazai’s back. You frown when instead of relaxing like he normally does, he only grows tenser under your touch.

“If you had to kill everyone who has almost killed me, half the population would be gone!” you exaggerate, trying to reason with him.

“Fucking good riddance then,” Dazai huffs, still eyeing Chuuya.

Chuuya silently stares up at him, debating his next words. “What happened?” he asks, eyes softening as he worriedly glances at you as if the attack just happened.

“They were almost strangled to death. They had bruises on their neck, eyes bloodshot and swollen, and they could barely swallow or breathe,” Dazai mumbles, eyes shifting down the ground as his knuckles become white with his grip. Your body goes tense at the recollection of what happened.

“I’m fine,” you reassure them both.

The room is silent for a moment after that, and Chuuya stares at you, at a loss for words. He’s relieved of trying to find the right thing to say though since Dazai is sighing and standing up straight. “Give me your knife,” he demands.

“Dazai-”

“Why?” Chuuya asks, hand resting where said knife is hidden.

“I’m going to kill the little bastard one way or another. Are you going to help me or not?” Dazai asks lowly, staring straight into Chuuya’s soul. Chuuya stares right back at him, going over his options. He slowly turns to look at you to find your rapidly shaking your head.

“Knock yourself out,” Chuuya says as he suddenly takes it out and tosses it to the younger man.

“Nakahara!” you hiss disappointedly, quickly reaching for the covered knife. You grab it at the same time as Dazai does, starting a power struggle with him over who gets the weapon.

“(Y/n), let go,” Dazai warns.

“No! This is the whole reason I came with you! To make sure you wouldn’t do something stupid like this!”

“Chuuya,” Dazai says, making your eyes go wide.

“No-” you start to argue, taking a step back from Chuuya as he comes towards you. “Chuuya, no!” you shout. You begin a power struggle with him now as he comes up behind you and grabs under your arms, preventing you from using them or getting away from him. “Chuuya, stop! Dazai, please!” you scream, struggling against the man.

They both ignore you as Dazai walks over to the kid who is still unconscious against the tree. “I’m surprised you’re helping me,” Dazai comments as he stops in front of the boy.

“My orders were to take him back alive, but hearing what he did to (Y/n)...” He pauses for a long moment. “I’d do anything for (Y/n)...” Chuuya confesses. “So, do what you want…”

“You aren’t doing this for me! You’re doing this against me!” you cry. You don’t know why you’re fighting so hard to save this kid’s life. Dazai’s right. He almost had you killed.

“Very well,” Dazai responds, ignoring your cries. “I will.”

“Osamu! Stop! Don’t do this! What would Oda say?” you scream.

This has Dazai pausing his raised hand, thinking over your words. You start to relax, glad you got through to him.

You go tense again though when his arm swipes in front of him in one fell swoop. Blood spurts from the new cut on the boy’s throat, covering the knife and Dazai in blood. You go limp against Chuuya, closing your eyes to prevent yourself from watching further as Q bleeds out from his sliced throat.

You shove Chuuya off of you just as he wraps his arms around you for a hug now. You shake your head as you head up the stairs, a frown heavily etched on your face. “(Y/n)...” you hear him mumble, following after you. You hear another set of steps follow you and Chuuya’s after a moment, and your body goes tense.

Just as you reach the entrance, something akin to a tentacle is wrapping around your throat. You cry out just as the tentacle silences you, picking you up and starting to throw you around like a ragdoll.

“(Y/n)!” you hear two sets of voices scream.

You’re suddenly thrown back to the moment when Atsushi was choking you. The anger in his eyes, the fear. You had no idea what was wrong with him other than the fact that he wasn’t acting like himself. He kept mumbling things, seeming to believe that you were the enemy. You couldn’t even use your ability against him, afraid that you’d hurt the poor man. That’s how you got into the situation.

Unlike Atsushi though, this bitch can face your wrath.

You use your ability against your opponent, causing him to grunt from the ground. You regain your ability to scream as you’re thrown into the building you came out of, the air leaving your lungs though as soon as you make contact. Feet pound towards you as they run at top speed, going from attacking the man to making sure you’re okay. You wheeze as you try to get your breath back, your hands holding your throat.

“(Y/n)!” Dazai shouts, collapsing to the ground beside you and cradling your face in his hands. You’re getting deja vu.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, looking from between your eyes to down at your neck. He lets go of your face to move your hands to assess the damage to your neck.

“I’m fine,” you croak, gently pushing at his chest to get him to stop.

“Grantors of dark disgrace…” Chuuya begins to chant as he starts to slip off one of his gloves. As soon as you hear that first word, your eyes are going wide.

“Chuuya!” you shout, trying to gain his attention.

“Now you’ve done it,” Dazai singsongs, smirking to himself.

“Nakahara, stop!”

“You need not wake me again…” he finishes the chant before his ability is activated, red lines starting to appear all over his body.

“Shouldn’t have messed with our (Y/n),” Dazai continues to singsong without a care in the world. You punch his chest–receiving an “ow!” in response from him–as you stand up and move towards Chuuya.

“Nakah-”

Just before you reach him, he’s taking a step forward and causing a big crack in the earth around his feet, a gust of wind almost blowing you away.

“What am I even looking at right now…?” You turn to find Steinbeck leaning against a tree. Oh, so that’s where he went.

Before you can even blink, Dazai is coming up behind him and holding the bloody knife he used to kill Q up against the blond’s throat. “Want me to fill you in, worker bee?” Steinbeck gulps and turns his head a bit to look at Dazai over his shoulder. “That right there is the fully realized form of Chuuya’s gift. His corrupted form allows him to manipulate nearby gravitons, creating a black hole which swallows everything in its path. The drawback is he relinquishes control, attacking in a blind rage until he wastes away.” Dazai then pauses, the two men watching Chuuya attack the man-creature.

“And do you want to know why Chuuya is doing this?” he whispers into the man’s ear. You’re close enough to where you can hear them and you can see Steingbeck’s eyes flicker to you before Dazai even speaks. Steinbeck doesn’t even get to nod or verbally answer before Dazai is continuing. “Do you see the person right here with us? The beautiful one glowing under the light of the moon?” You tense when the attention is suddenly brought to you, your cheeks turning to fire at Dazai’s description of you.

Steinbeck tilts his head a bit and makes eye contact with you. You watch as his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple. He gives a faint nod, eyeing you for a moment. “Well, your partner here made the mistake of hurting them. You know, this knife I have pressed against you right now is bloody because I just got done killing someone who harmed them. Then, not five minutes later, your partner goes and makes the same mistake and does something similar that someone had done to (Y/n) before.” He sighs and clicks his tongue while shaking his head from side to side. “People just never learn.”

“What does it matter if we hurt them or not? Y’all never got this worked up over other people!” Steinbeck mumbles, eyeing you warily as he speaks. He hisses when Dazai presses the knife even closer, a drop of blood gliding down his neck as Dazai presses the blade to his throat.

“Ah ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” he advises. He sets his head on the blond’s shoulder, also beginning to study you now. His eyes are completely different from Steinbeck’s though. Dazai’s hold what they always hold for you when he looks at you, no matter his mood, no matter the situation.

Adoration. Fondness. Love.

At least, you like to think it’s love.

“(Y/n) isn’t just anyone. We both love them, you see,” Dazai confesses, looking away from you to continue watching Chuuya. Your jaw completely drops at this, your heart suddenly going into overdrive. He can’t be serious. “Typically, I’d never say this out loud, let alone to the enemy. I don’t like people knowing my weaknesses, and neither does Chuuya,” Dazai continues his confession. “But, seeing Chuuya how he is right now, I doubt either of you will live for much longer,” he finishes his thoughts, picking his head up just as his partner figures out that he needs to attack the monster from the inside to defeat it.

He finishes with the man, blowing him to smithereens and almost blowing you away with it. Once the wind dies down, you open your eyes to find that Dazai has, once again, cut an enemy’s throat. You sigh and turn away, deciding you’ll deal with him later.

You quickly start running towards Chuuya as he manically laughs, watching as blood drips from his mouth and head. He starts to throw balls of energy around, causing small explosions when they land.

“Nakahara!” you scream as you near him. He suddenly freezes in place, the black hole he was forming in his hand dissipating at the sound of your voice. He turns around just as you launch yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly.

There are only two things that can snap him out of this. Dazai’s ability and you. Not your ability. You.

He’s stiff in your hold as you hug him, not back to himself yet. Your brows furrow when he pushes at your shoulders to get you to back up. Your eyes go wide when his lips are suddenly on yours, a gasp escaping you, to which he uses to his advantage to slide his tongue into your mouth. You taste the metallic of his blood, your hands pushing at his chest to no avail.

You gasp again when he’s suddenly forced away from you, Dazai holding his wrist as he activates his ability. “Bastard,” he growls, glaring down at Chuuya. “You’re lucky I don’t beat you to hell for pulling a stunt like that-”

“He can’t control himself. You know that,” you remind Dazai as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand to clean Chuuya’s blood off of your lips.

“He kisses you every time! How is that an accident!” Dazai snaps, glaring down at the redhead as his red lines finish receding. Chuuya grunts as he falls forward, only being held up by Dazai’s grip on him.

You rush forward to catch him, letting him lean against you. “(Y/n)...” he mumbles into your collarbone.

“I’m here,” you whisper back, smacking Dazai’s arm to get him to let him go. Dazai glares at you but let's go, placing his hands into his pockets. Chuuya grunts and collapses into your arms completely. You grunt right back at his weight and quickly lower yourselves to the ground. You even take it a step forward and lay back, Chuuya’s head resting on your chest. “I got you…” you whisper, staring up at the starry sky. He lets out a pleased sigh before going utterly limp against you. The last thing you see is Dazai standing above you with a disapproving look on his face before you close your eyes.

When you wake up this time, it feels like deja vu again. You’re in the same room, in the same bed, with similar injuries, and with a worried brunet sleeping by your side. Only this time, he’s literally sleeping in the bed beside you instead of in the chair by the bed.

Your face is pressed into Dazai’s chest and you can tell he’s asleep by his slow breaths. You wonder how long you’ve been out. Has Dazai been asleep long or did he do that thing where he worries about you so much that he can’t rest until he knows you’re okay and then passes out from exhaustion?

Either way, you’re glad that you both were able to get some rest, even if it was accidental. You pull yourself back a bit to look up at him, noticing the few marks he has on him. Guess he didn’t get away scot-free either.

You look up at his messy bedhead and want to touch his hair so badly. You remember what happened last time and decide not to wake him. You slowly back up and sit up, letting out a heavy sigh as you run your hand through your dirty hair. You could use a shower.

Just as you’re about to get out of bed, a hand is grabbing your wrist, making you gasp. You swivel your head around to look at Dazai, only to find him seemingly still asleep. He looks like he’s asleep still, but you can tell he’s awake now. “Don’t leave me yet…” he mumbles, grip tightening on your wrist a tad. You sigh and lay back down, facing him and placing your arms between you both.

He moves his grip from your wrist to your hand, intertwining your fingers. He opens his eyes and finally meets yours, a weight lifting from your shoulders when you see his brown eyes. You give him a soft smile, watching as he returns the expression.

You watch as he opens his mouth, hoping he’s going to say something sweet and romantic. “Chuuya can suck it. I don’t see him sharing a bed with you,” he says with a pleased smirk. You scoff and let his hand go, rolling your eyes.

“You’re such a child.”

“Am not,” he argues with a pout.

“Are too,” you argue right back.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Then so are you!” he fires back, smirking at you.

You open your mouth to retort before closing it again, squinting your eyes at the ex-mafia member. “Touché,” you cave, relaxing into the bed again. “But seriously, you two are like two friends fighting over your favorite toy,” you grumble. You purse your lips when he grabs ahold of your hand again.

“First of all, we aren’t friends-”

You snort. “Yeah, okay-” you respond sarcastically.

“Secondly,” he pauses, staring into your eyes, “You are our favorite toy.” He brings your hand to his face, kissing the back of it. “And I refuse to share,” he whispers decidedly, looking up from your hand to stare into your eyes with a determined look.

“Don’t call me a toy,” you decide to respond with, ignoring the rest of his words. You also ignore the way your heart flutters at how possessive he is over you. He chuckles at that, shifting in the bed to get closer to you.

“You started it,” he reminds.

“Did not,” you defend.

“Did too,” he coos, getting even closer.

“Did not,” you mumble, his nose touching yours.

“Did too,” he whispers, breath fanning across your face.

“Did-” your response is cut off by his lips meeting yours. You hum and lean forward, pressing your lips harder against his. His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, keep your head angled just right for him to kiss you.

“Don’t let him kiss you again,” he whispers once you two pull away.

“I’ll think about it,” you coo, winking at him. He glares at you, wrapping his limbs around you and clinging to you like a koala.

“Fine. You can’t ever leave this bed then.”

“Not even to pee?” you ask with a laugh.

“Nope.”

“What if I just invite Chuuya to this bed?” you argue with his logic.

“I’ll kill the ugly bastard if he even thinks about setting foot into this room,” he decides, making you laugh.

“Right, sure,” you say sarcastically, cuddling into him.

“I will!”

“Whatever you say, baby,” you concede, letting out a yawn.

“Did you just call me baby?” he asks.

You quickly close your eyes and let out a heavy breath, pretending to be asleep. “Hey,” he says as he pulls back a bit to look at you. “Hey! I know you aren’t asleep already!” he shouts, shaking you a bit. You whine and smack at his hands, burrowing closer to him and hiding your face in his chest. He huffs and lets your arms go to wrap his arms back around you. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to your hairline. He rolls his eyes when he feels you smile into his chest. He knew you weren’t asleep.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLIST

More with Dazai

Join my discord server (I also have an 18+ one that is personal invite only. If you want access to that DM me!): https://discord.gg/qnDxJ6rr67

Special thanks to @celestair for being my super seggsy beta reader

Tag List: @nojamsss03, @katsuhera ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

1K notes · View notes

queenimmadolla · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you.

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Can you leave this on his desk?”

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them.

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything.

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so.

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then.

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him.

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around.

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking.

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public.

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

──

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him.

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.”

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there.

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies.

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis.

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down.

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real.

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it).

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying.

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should.

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel.

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear.

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose.

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular.

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness.

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards.

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party.

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme.

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author.

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door.

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection.

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were.

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party.

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.”

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you.

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that.

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello.

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked.

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?”

He finally blinked, licking his lips again.

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public.

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?”

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack.

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken.

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger.

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle.

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you.

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it.

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you.

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath.

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions.

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did.

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated.

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses.

“. . . You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.

2K notes · View notes

moog-rt · 3 months

Text

GO TO HELL [ch. 4]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter Three

➨ Chapter Four

Next: Chapter Five

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

A/N: shout out to my very own "power bottom at rock bottom" (aka my roommate) for harnessing her inner Angel Dust and feeding into some of his dialogue.

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER FOUR

The car ride home was mostly silent and incredibly tense.

You also couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. When you looked around to sate your paranoia, you found nothing suspicious and whittled it down to the anxiety having your face plastered across every news channel in hell.

On your way out of her father’s manor, you decided to fill Charlie in about your hands and cheek. She said it was a gamble whether her dad would react well to your being human or not. Being neutral to it, however, was something she would not have imagined. She was just relieved that you were alright.

She theorized that he may have assumed you were just wearing face paint for ‘shits and giggles’ (your words, not hers). There were some demons in Hell that did have skin tones similar to when they were human, so it wouldn’t be too outrageous for you to, as well.

Though it would be no surprise if he jumped to the conclusion that you were human due to your being televised all over Hell the day prior.

Not knowing where his head was at was going to kill you.

But worrying about that wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Charlie believed you two had searched everywhere in her old place that was likely to hold the key to you getting home. To your relief, the likelihood of returning was slim to none.

There was no need to stress over her father figuring you out since you wouldn’t have to risk running into him again.

The only thing you needed to focus on was getting those godforsaken cobwebs off the chandelier in the hotel foyer.

Vaggie was able to get the place mostly cleaned up in the time you were gone, but there were still a few things left that you were able to help with. After all they had done for you, this was the least you could do for them in return.

As you climbed back down the ladder, you saw Charlie pacing and muttering to herself. Even though you only met her recently, you knew how much the hotel and her plan to redeem sinners meant to her.

If this didn’t go well, she would absolutely take it to heart. She seemed like the type to barricade herself in a room to sulk for weeks on end. Or maybe bawl her eyes out whilst shoveling heaping spoonfuls of ice cream down her own throat.

Probably both.

“You know, this place is really coming together,” you said as you walked up to her.

She paused to face you.

“You think so?” she asked, glancing around the foyer in search of anything in need of tending. “Gosh, what if he doesn’t like the color scheme, or—or the motifs? What if he decides he isn’t interested in redemption at all?”

“Hey,” you said to get her attention as you leaned back into her view. “If he weren’t interested in what you’re offering, he wouldn’t be coming by to check things out. And I really don’t think your choice in décor will be what turns him away.”

You chuckled a bit as you glanced at the odd horse statues and slightly tattered wallpaper. It wasn’t modern or trendy, but it did have character. That was for sure.

She nodded with a far-off gaze, ruminating on your words.

“Even if he does decide that this isn’t for him—though I don’t think that will happen—there are so many people down here! I find it hard to believe that you won’t find some who are interested,” you continued. “Think about all the souls that believed they’d be going to Heaven but ended up here instead. They’d probably give up an arm and a leg to be redeemed.”

Her shoulders slacked, and her back loosened as she released a deep breath. Looking back at you, her face appeared more relaxed.

“Yeah…you’re totally right,” she said with a soft smile. “We just need to be patient.”

“I think this guy would be stupid not to accept your offer.” You bumped her arm playfully as you went to continue tidying up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her smile and walk off, presumably to do the same.

Everyone was putting the final touches on everything when there was a knock on the front door. You paused in the middle of sliding the sofa across the room so you could get a look at whoever was there.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other in surprise.

“I told him to text or call before showing up,” Vaggie grumbled, running a hand through her bangs as she went to answer the door.

He was quite…tall.

You had forgotten their appearances could vary so much. Charlie, her father, and Vaggie were relatively similar to a regular person, despite some slight cosmetic differences. This guy, however, had an extra set of limbs and was covered head to toe in what looked like fur.

Upon closer inspection, he also had what appeared to be three additional pairs of eyes underneath his primary ones.

Was he supposed to be a bug?

You shuffled forward as Charlie introduced herself. She had fixed up your makeup once you returned, so there was nothing to worry about regarding your own appearance. You had double and even triple-checked beforehand.

“This is it?”

“Uh…yes?” Charlie said meekly with her hands clasped in front of her chest.

He gave the foyer a hard once-over.

“Eh, anything’s betta’ than my current digs,” he said with a shrug and started walking around. “You got drinks?”

“No? The point of redemption is to stop engaging in sin,” Vaggie stated, crossing her arms. “Which means cutting out drugs?”

“You’re kiddin’ me,” he said as his body slumped. “What the hell am I supposed to do then? Play checkers?”

“Ooh, Checkers would be a fun way to break the ice!” Charlie sang, clapping her hands together.

This earned her a blank look from the new guest.

“Aha…” she laughed awkwardly at the bland response, then turned to gesture at you. “Well, this is our current resident! We have faith that she will be redeemed very soon.”

You gave a wide smile as you were being shown off. Should you strike a pose? Put your hands on your hips and puff your chest out in pride?

You didn’t mind being a fake example of a sinner-gone-good to help her out. It was the least you could do at this point. Plus, when you finally got the hell out of there, you could all play it off as you being ‘redeemed’.

“Yup, yup. Sin-free life has been pretty great,” you said, crossing your arms.

The guy already seemed exasperated. Vaggie was right when she said he was more interested in free rent than redemption itself.

“What did you say your name was again?” you asked in an attempt to keep the conversation from dying out before it had even started.

He perked a bit and plastered on a sultry smirk.

“Angel Dust,” he said as he swiped a hand through his hair(?) (head fluff?). “If you’re interested in gettin’ to know me betta’, I’ve got a nice collection of videos I can refer ya to.”

“No,” Vaggie groaned. “He’s a pornstar.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“I mean, more power to you,” you shrugged, and he snickered.

“Wasn’t expectin’ that sorta career choice to fly with someone aspirin’ to cross through them pearly gates.” He tilted his head as he eyed you carefully, leaning down slightly to be more at your eye level.

“What makes you think that?” you asked, raising your chin. “In my opinion, a redeemable gal like myself should be respectful of other’s bodily autonomy.”

“Last I checked, the pious types weren’t so down with cock-suckin’ hoes. I mean,” he paused and smirked, “some of ‘em were down with us cock-suckin’ hoes, but they did their darndest to pray that shit away afterward. The guilts part of the kink.”

Vaggie’s stance tensed more and more with each word that came out of his mouth. You were pretty sure her eye was twitching.

“Good people are accepting people!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her arms out.

“You ain’t ever have to deal with the living, sugar-tits,” Angel said, draping himself over the couch in a way you were sure would be put on the front cover of a Playboy magazine. “But sure.”

You all began a short tour of the hotel much like the one you got when you first arrived. This time, however, Charlie was really trying to sell her redemption plan to him. She explained the terms of their deal. He would refrain from acts of sin, such as violence, drugs, yada-yada, and he could stay there for free.

As you began filing out of one of the available, move-in-ready rooms, you noticed Angel pause. He was looking at the ground with a blank expression, clearly contemplating something. You assumed he was weighing the pros and cons of Charlie’s offer, but you were no mind reader.

After showing off most of the relevant parts of the hotel, you gathered back in the entryway. Charlie stared Angel down expectantly, waiting in suspense for his decision.

She was overjoyed when he finally agreed.

“There’s no harm in tryin’, I guess.” He shrugged shooting a half-lidded smirk. “But I ain’t makin’ no promises that I’ll be the paragon of redeemability. I ain’t that type of model.”

When he left, he said he had to clear some things with his boss first and then he would start this whole ‘redemption thing’.

The three of you had a miniature celebration—juice, soda, and popcorn to go along with eager chatter—before you decided to address the stack of books you had hauled back to the hotel.

The evening was going swimmingly thus far, and you hoped that good luck would carry on to the very end of the night. Somewhere in that pile was your key to getting home. Your fingers were crossed that you would be sleeping in your own cozy bed that night.

You could finally take up your own offer on a nice hot bubble bath and let it soak away all the stress that had stockpiled within your body.

Sitting in a circle around the books, you began sifting through them.

Your hope dwindled bit by bit with every one you flipped through and set aside. They had everything to do with the living world except for the means of getting there.

Once the last book was deemed useless, you sat in sullen silence. A sort of emptiness settled within your chest.

If that was your best shot at returning, what else was there?

“Okay…that’s okay!” Charlie said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “We just have to try something else. Vaggie, you said you knew people who had access to Earth, right?”

“I said I knew of people,” she corrected. “But I did do a little bit of digging while you were out, and I might have a few leads?”

“Oh, perfect!” Charlie chirped, sitting straight up with her hands on her knees. “How about we look into those tomorrow then?”

You and Vaggie both nodded because what else were you supposed to do? You didn’t really have the option of giving up in this situation. Your life wasn’t going to wait on hold forever. It probably wasn’t waiting at all.

At this point, two full days would have passed since you ‘disappeared,’ but living alone makes it harder for people to notice that sort of thing. You doubted Devon would have reported it since that would likely result in them getting into even deeper shit (in addition to the can of whoop-ass you’d release onto them once you made it back).

And you knew better than to put any amount of faith into Jack. You were sure he noticed your absence. You had the texts to prove it. But he seemed to be convinced you were giving him the cold shoulder, which would most likely result in him pretending he didn’t give two flying fucks about you.

Fuck that bitch.

♡

You wouldn’t say you slept like a baby that night, but you sure did sleep. You slept with the weight of despair threatening to overtake you with each failed attempt of finding a way back home.

And you know what?

It wasn’t half bad. Would you recommend it to someone else? No, not really. But you couldn’t tell them it was terrible.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you padded your way down the grand staircase. It was nice not having to wake up early to get all done up, but you still felt groggy. Possibly from sleeping too much.

You also appreciated being able to spend more time in the pajamas you were given, because good lord were they comfy.

Charlie and Vaggie let you know last night that they’d be leaving earlier in the morning to talk to the folks Vaggie believed might be able to access the living world. You stayed behind because you all agreed that dragging you through public in a not-so-durable disguise was a disaster waiting to happen.

However, they planned to be back in time for Charlie’s father to visit.

He had called her the previous night—just before you were all about to go your separate ways—to let her know he wanted to stop by. She told him he could drop by in the afternoon, and that was that.

You planned to coup yourself up in your room for the duration of his visit. You would rather die than address what had happened with the paint. If he had any questions regarding that, he could direct them towards his daughter. Thank you and goodnight (love you, Charlie! Muah!).

There was nothing to do until Charlie and Vaggie returned, but you still wanted caffeine or anything that could clear your brain fog.

They had stocked up the fridge and ‘pantry’ a bit more since you arrived, and Angel would likely move in any day now so there was also that to consider. Yet it was still a gamble on whether or not you could find something appealing.

You kneeled down in front of the fridge and began rummaging through your options.

Mysterious leftovers?

No.

Artichoke Hearts?

Eh…for breakfast? Probably not.

Coconut Milk?

No… You were surprised they even had coconuts in Hell. Unless, of course, they had sinners that manifested as coconuts, then you reckon they could milk—

No, absolutely not.

You were thinking about settling on a popsicle when you heard a knock at the front door.

Nobody should have been stopping by yet. Charlie’s dad wouldn’t be there until later, and you guys weren’t expecting anyone else. It could possibly be Angel, but you doubted he already spoke to his boss considering it was still morning.

The stained-glass doors didn’t disclose much about your surprise visitor. They were merely a shadowy figure, distorted by the odd shapes and colors.

Regardless of who it could be, you needed to hide or at least find a way to get back upstairs without being seen.

Slowly rising to your feet, you locked onto a rather large crate near the edge of the entryway.

You wouldn’t have to cross in front of the door to get there, which was ideal. Even though you knew the person on the other side couldn’t see you clearly, you preferred they not know you were there at all. Once you were at the crate, you could easily make your way around the room undetected.

Just as you were about to slip around it, you heard the front door creak open.

“Hello~” sang a familiar voice.

You hastily dodged behind the crate, your feet sliding slightly underneath you due to the new socks you had been gifted by your hosts. Thankfully, you were able to stabilize yourself before falling into anything.

Your heart was pounding away in your chest.

What was he doing here so early?

You pressed your back against the crate as you carefully sat down to wait for him to pass. Listening to his footsteps crossing the room was doing nothing to soothe your nerves. It was clear that he was in no rush to move on through the hotel. You could hear him as he sauntered around the foyer, pausing every once in a while before continuing on.

If he was taking in the sights, it was only a matter of time before he got to your side of the foyer.

You had to get out.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly peeked around your hiding spot to see where he was and whether he was looking your way.

To your relief, Charlie’s father was investigating a portrait on the wall opposite of you.

You wasted no time creeping across the floor to take cover behind the tattered old reception area. There was a body-length mirror resting against the wall just a few feet away that would give you a relatively good view of where he was.

As you were about to lean close enough to see through the mirror’s reflection, you heard him begin to hum just a few feet away. You scrambled to get beneath the desk.

How did he get so close so fast?

You understood the guy wasn’t human, but still. You were able to hear his footsteps clear as day up until that point. He shouldn’t know you were there; you were being so quiet…

Holding your breath, you waited for him to put some distance between the two of you. When you felt he was far enough away, you slowly scooted to the other side of the desk where you could hopefully get a view of the mirror.

Hearing him tampering with something, so you took the opportunity to glance at the mirror’s reflection.

He was prodding at one of the broken columns, testing its stability, it seemed. And his back was facing you. Perfect.

Glancing around the edge of the reception desk, you could see that the stairs weren’t too far away. It was a pretty open area, however, so you wondered if it would be better to beeline it down the adjacent hall instead.

Figuring that was likely the safer option, you checked the mirror once more to make sure his back was still turned.

You met his gaze in the reflection, and your eyes went wide as his lips curled into a wicked grin.

Fuck.

In a panic, you threw yourself out of view and knocked your head into the desk’s edge. The collision was certainly loud enough for him to hear, but you kept your pained whine quiet as you cradled your temple.

Your train of thought was quickly growing fuzzy, unsure of what to do or where to go.

Was it best to run?

What if he was faster?

Would your chances be better if you found another place to hide?

Probably not… He already knew where you were, and you weren’t sure where else you could even go.

All you knew was that you couldn’t stay where you were. If his eyes were still trained on the mirror, you would probably be better off going back the way you came. Maybe there was a gap in the crate that you could worm through to hide. It would be like you disappeared.

You turned back in that direction, and as you were about to dart back to the safety of your original hiding spot, two legs stepped in front of you.

You gasped, sliding to a halt just before you could crash into him.

Charlie’s father slowly crouched down to your level as you tilted your head to look up at him, eyes as wide as saucers. His smile was wide, showing off his large, pointed teeth.

“What do we have here?”

Next Chapter

♡ ♡ ♡

Tag List: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150 @froggybich @darling-angel222 @preciousbabypeter

#lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #demon summoning #occult #charlie magne #charlie morningstar #Vaggie #Angel Dust #Hazbin Hotel Angel #Hazbin Hotel Angel Dust

180 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 3 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 30: Blood

Joel and Tommy run into trouble on patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-29 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 7.5k

A/N: Hi y’all, I’m stashing this whole chapter below a jump because it’s been brought to my attention that the major event of this chapter is less common knowledge and more of a spoiler than I really realized it was. There is a major plot point for TLOU2 below. I’m sorry I didn’t tag the whole fic that way (going back to update that now) and I apologize if this spoiled things for people who were trying to go in blind. This is the first chapter with any big overlap and if you want to bow out now, I totally understand. My DMs are open if you want to know more without full spoilers and if there’s a way to keep reading without knowing the plot of TLOU2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Dina kissed me.”

“What!” You yelped and Ellie’s eyes went wide before she clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhh!” She looked around, her breath rising in front of her. But the only people out right now were inside the stable, a good 50 feet behind you and far enough away that you doubted any of them heard you, even if you were loud. “Jesus, Bambi…”

She released your mouth and you tried not to giggle.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Good for you, kiddo! Told you not to count the girl out because she also fucks men…”

“There’s no way she meant it,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Get real.”

“Why not?” You asked, brows raised. “Why shouldn’t she mean it?”

“Because she’s Dina,” Ellie said, as though that explained everything. You just looked at her and she rolled her eyes again. “She was just trying to stir shit up because her and Jesse split up…”

“Uh huh.”

“And I was convenient,” she finished. “That’s it, that’s all it was…”

“And you know this because you asked her, I’m sure.”

“Fuck off,” she snapped. “Look, I didn’t drag you out here to figure that shit out…”

“You sure about that?”

“I dragged you out here,” she said, ignoring you, “to try and figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.”

“Kiss her again,” you shrugged. “That’s what I’d do…”

“I’m being serious!” She hissed at you. “I have to go on patrol with her in like half an hour, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

You sighed and smiled a little, putting your hands in the pockets of the coat Joel had given back to you that morning. He said he hadn’t been wearing it but it had to have been hanging close enough to things he did wear and it smelled a bit like him.

“First, you need to calm down,” you said gently. She looked like she was going to snap at you but you silenced her with a look. “I know it’s hard but regardless of how you want this to turn out, try not to be in your own head about it, OK? She’s still your friend and I’m guessing you want her to stay your friend, right?”

“Duh.”

“So eloquent,” you said and she rolled her eyes. “Look, you have two options. You can pretend it never happened and see if she brings it up or you can be up front about it and ask her.”

“Is there a way to bring it up without looking like a desperate fucking loser?” She asked, brows raised.

You shrugged.

“Tough line to walk but I think you’ve got it in you.”

“Jesus…”

“Ellie,” you took her shoulders and made her actually face you. “It will be OK. Might be awkward for a bit but it’s not the end of the world. I promise. You can talk to her. She’s your friend for a reason and it’s because you’re kind and you’re smart and you’re funny. Even without the help of Will Livingston. None of that shit changes just because you kissed. Alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, dropping her head to your shoulder with a heavy sigh. You put your arms around her and gave her a little squeeze but when she pulled back from you, her eyes were narrowed. “You’re in a weirdly good mood.”

You frowned.

“No I’m not.”

“Uh yeah, you are,” she said, stepping back and looking you up and down as though she she were inspecting you. You just raised your eyebrows at her, expectant, when her mouth dropped open for a moment before she shifting to a shit eating grin.

“Ellie…”

“You fucked Joel!”

“We need to have another conversation about the fact that what happens between my legs is none of your business,” you muttered, turning her around to head back toward the stable.

“No we don’t,” she said. “This is great, you two have been so depressing the last few months…”

“We have not!”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes. “You were basically dead for weeks and Joel barely left the house for who knows how long.”

“That… was less recent,” you said. “And it’s not your job to worry about us so let’s just…” you stopped just short of the stable doors. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“About…” you lowered your voice. “Joel. Not that I’m admitting to anything.”

She smirked.

“That coat’s been hanging in his front closet since you left.” You looked down at yourself and groaned. Her cocky smile grew. “You wanted the coat again. Bingo.”

“Well just… keep it to yourself, alright?” You said, heading for the door. “I have no idea how to handle this with Savvy yet so cool it for bit. Please.”

“I can keep my mouth shut you know,” she said as you opened the door to the stable and she went in. She opened her mouth to keep talking but Dina came up to her, smiling, and she froze instead.

“Hey Ellie,” she smiled a little bigger before looking at you. “Bambi, good to see you.”

“You too,” you said, clapping Ellie on the shoulder. “Have fun out there.”

She glared at you over Dina’s shoulder and you just shrugged and winked at her before taking care of the final things you needed to before getting everyone out the door on patrol.

You seriously considered, for a moment, taking Joel’s hand and just dragging him back home when he told you that you’d be going out separately. Things with him were so raw and delicate and new again. Neglecting it for two days felt dangerous somehow, a tension setting into your limbs before you and Julie headed out.

You were always last to leave the stables, always waiting until you knew the rest of the patrol was situated even though you knew Olivia could handle things just fine without you. She smiled - a vaguely amused look on her face - as you went back over everything for the third time.

“I promise, it’s all good,” she said eventually. “Please go focus on killing infected and staying safe and leave managing the horses to me.”

On the way out of town, you stopped by where the working dogs were kept and asked if you could bring Gatling along, Julie looking a little skeptical as the dog jumped on Renaissance and settled between your legs, her head draped over your bicep.

“Used to ride like this with her all the time,” you said, kissing the top of the dog’s head. Gatling licked her lips once and curved her body into yours as you sat back in the saddle to make sure she had room. “I’ll let her down once we’re good and underway, she’ll keep up. She’s great at spotting infected and I’m guessing she could be a great patrol dog once we get her adjusted to working with more than just me…”

“She definitely looks like she can hold her own,” Julie said, watching as Gatling started scanning the horizon, her ears perked and listening, ready to jump off your horse and run down any apparent threat. “What kind of dog is she, anyway?”

“She’s a Belgian Malinois,” you said, giving her a scratch behind the ears. “They were police and military dogs before. She saved my ass from infected more than once and she kept my girl alive when I couldn’t…” You kissed her head again and she turned to lick your cheek before going back to watching for threats. “She’s a good girl.”

“Good to know I’ve got someone out here who can really watch my back,” Julie teased lightly. “Not sure I trust you to do it…”

“Why not?” You asked, gaping at her. “I’m a great shot, keep you alive no problem…”

“You forget I saw you trying to show Ellie and Savvy how to shoot a basketball that one time,” she smiled a cocky smile. “You barely hit the backboard…”

“OK shooting a basketball is a completely different animal,” you waved her off. “Where it counts, my aim is solid. Saved Tommy once.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true,” you said, nudging Renaissance a little faster. “Ask Joel…”

“Joel, hm?” She brought her horse alongside yours. “Things happening there?”

You tried to hide your smile but felt the edges of your mouth curve up, anyway.

“Good for you!” Julie said. “Both because you’re my friend and I want you to be happy but also because I like being right and goddammit, if I’m going to get shot down for a man of all people at least it’s a man I was right about.”

You laughed a little before you remembered you had things weren’t just magically fixed with Joel yet.

“Do me a favor and don’t mention it to anyone?” You said, looking down at Gatling. “I need to tell Savvy…”

The dog looked up to you at the mention of her name and you gave her a small scratch.

“Oh, right,” Julie winced a bit. “Yeah, that might be rough.”

“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I need to figure out a way to do this without losing both of them. I can’t do that again, I just… I can’t.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said gently. “It will be OK. Just have to believe it, it’ll happen.”

“I’ll do my best,” you smiled a little at her. “How’s shit with Karen, by the way?”

“Oh God,” she laughed. “I’m not sure how much I should tell you…”

The patrol was easy enough until the snow started flying. It was still, the two of you talking, Gatling sometimes running ahead and acting more like a puppy than you remembered her being before, making you smile. It felt like if she could be like this - young and free and more than what survival had made her - so could Savvy. She would get there someday. You could get her back and make her understand once she was ready.

Once the snow picked up, you and Julie decided to hunker down instead of pressing on to what was meant to be your final spot for the day. Though you were pretty sure you were only an hour or so shy of it if the weather weren’t working against you.

“OK this is bullshit is what this is,” Julie said as she stomped snow off her boots and shook it out of her hair. You laughed a little as you got a fire going in the fireplace of the old house you’d reached for the night. It was just at the edge of a small subdivision, a spot you’d ridden past before but never spent much time in. The two of you had gotten the horses settled in the garage and Julie had done a quick walk around the immediate area to make sure there were no threats before coming in to settle for the night. “White, fluffy bullshit.”

“Not getting you in the holiday spirit?” You teased. “Thanksgiving is coming up, Christmas right after that…”

“Yeah, I’m already counting down until spring,” she said, shucking her coat and joining you by the fire. “I can only live with this for so long.”

“I kinda like it,” you said as the fire caught the larger log and you watched it start to go up. “I like that seasons actually change here. It definitely made it easier to mark the passage of time when I didn’t have a calendar.”

“Well I guess when you put it that way,” she sighed dramatically and you laughed. “But now that you’re in Jackson, we’ll keep you straight on the passage of time. The snow can go.”

Julie had brought a bottle of whiskey from the Bison - “A perk of the job,” she said - and you were reminded of sleepovers when you were in high school when you and your friends would swipe booze from your parents’ liquor cabinets and get drunk around a bonfire.

“I feel like we’re going to regret this in the morning,” you said, snug in your sleeping bag on the floor as the fire dimmed, head fuzzy and limbs tingling from the alcohol. Gatling’s head rested on your stomach.

“We can just sleep in a bit,” she scoffed and you heard her adjust on the couch. “What are they gonna do, fire us from patrol for running late? Doubt it.”

You laughed a little.

“Guess there’s not much to contend with out there right now, anyway,” you said, closing your eyes. “Been quiet as hell all day. Doubt it’ll change overnight.”

“It’d better not,” she said, sounding sleepy. “Better not be more snow, either.”

You laughed once.

“Better snow than infected,” you said. “Or raiders.”

She didn’t respond and the room was quiet for a moment before you heard a soft snore coming from the couch.

You laughed and then sighed, pulling a hand from the sleeping bag to scratch Gatling behind the ears. She sighed and curled up tighter to you.

“It’s gonna be different when we go back,” you whispered to her, absently stroking one of her soft ears. “You can still come home with me, though. Maybe sleep with Savvy instead for a bit. I’m sure you miss her.”

You tried to think about how to tell Savvy about Joel. It would have been a hard conversation under any circumstance, you thought. Not one you’d ever thought you’d need to have when you’d started caring for her. The idea of being with anyone long term then had been so foreign it hadn’t even crossed your mind. After Marisa, you’d given up on that. Just the occasional lover when there was a woman around who was interested as she was passing through had been enough.

But Jackson was different. Joel was different. You had safety and security in Jackson and you loved Joel in a way you’d never thought you’d find, especially not after spending so long alone. But how could you tell Savvy something that you knew would hurt her? How could you tell her anything at all when she hadn’t spoken to you in weeks?

“She’s gonna come around, right?” You whispered to Gatling. You felt her lick her lips and sigh against you. You closed your eyes but left your hand on the dog. “I’ll get her to trust me again. I will.”

When the pounding on the front door woke you up, you were barely even aware you’d been asleep. But it was daylight outside and Gatling was standing near the front door, crouched low and snarling.

“Wha…” Julie lifted her head, a groggy look on her face.

“I got it,” you said, head spinning as you shoved your way out of your sleeping bag. “You stay put.”

“Thank fuck,” she groaned, dropping her head back on the couch and draping her arm over her eyes. You laughed and shook your head, going for the door.

“Gatling.” The dog looked up at you, ready to obey. “Heel.”

She fell back from the door and went to your leg, still tight against you, as you opened the door.

“Glad I found you,” Gene, Jesse’s patrol partner said, pushing past you into the house without waiting for an invitation. “It’s a mess out there…”

“That’s why we stopped here for the night,” you said, leaving the door open and nodding to Gatling, who immediately ran outside to pee. You waited by the door and let her back in, the dog sticking to your side again.

“We can’t be that late getting out of here,” Julie grumbled, sitting up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not that it’s not just a blast to see you, Gene…”

“We’re missin’ people,” he said, more to you than Julie.

“What?” You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest, the after effects of the alcohol suddenly fading fast. “What do you mean we’re missing people, who are we missing?”

“Joel and Tommy,” he said. “They never made it where they were supposed to last night and we can’t find ‘em….”

“They probably stopped for the night like we did,” Julie waved him off. “Did you not see the weather last night? It was a shit show…”

“Probably,” Gene nodded. “But they’d have made it there by now and we didn’t see them comin’ back down, either. No sign of ‘em. Ellie and Dina weren’t where they were supposed to be, either, but we at least found a fuckin’ trail for them, sent Jesse on to get them back in one piece…”

You were already moving to put your boots on, heart pounding, Gatling giving you a small whine. You put a handful of jerky on the ground for her and refilled her water dish before you started packing up your sleeping bag.

“I’m sure they’re fine…” Julie said, actually sitting up in the sleeping bag now, her legs pulled into her chest and watching you closely.

“We should split up,” you said, pulling on your coat. “Cover more ground…”

“Don’t know if that’s smart…” Gene began but you cut him off.

“I can handle myself,” you said, harsher than you’d really meant to. “I’ve got Gatling, I’ve got my guns, I’ve got my axe. That’s all I had for 20 damn years and I made it just fine then. If you’re worried, you and Julie can stick together but I’m not gonna sit here and talk about how to minimize risk when they’re out there dealing with who knows what…”

“Bambi,” Julie said gently, getting off the couch and taking you by the shoulders. “It’s OK.”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’ll be OK when I find him in one piece, then it’ll be OK, I’m not…”

“Gene and I will go one way,” she cut you off. “You and Gatling go the other. We’ll cover more ground. OK?”

Gene sighed, looking between the two of you.

“You got a death wish, don’t make me stop you,” he said gruffly. “Gonna go get my horse some water, we can head out.”

You watched him go, a nervous energy coursing through your body.

“Hey,” Julie said, taking your face carefully in her hands and making you look at her. “It is OK. It’s Joel and Tommy. They’re very, very good at this. They’re OK.”

There was a pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you had to fight to swallow past. She took your hands, giving them a squeeze.

“I can’t lose him now,” your voice was thick. “I just got him back, I can’t…”

“I know,” she said softly, a sad smile on her face and you were struck, for a moment, by just how pretty she was. She pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, her lips lingering on your skin for a second, before she pulled back. “We’ll find him. We will.”

“Thank you,” you nodded and took a deep breath, one tear slipping free, before looking down at your dog who was watching, ready and waiting.

“Gatling, heel.”

She moved to be immediately with you and you went to the garage, quickly saddling your horse and mounting up. You called Gatling up and she settled at the front of your saddle, already watching for incoming threats with her ears perked as you set off.

You pushed Renaissance harder than you should have through the deep snow, trying to reach some part of Joel and Tommy’s patrol path so you could find some sense of where they might have gone.

It wasn’t long before you found the path cut by a group of infected. A large one, judging by the footprints in the snow. You didn’t see a sign of Joel or Tommy but the swath of disturbed snow and brush from the hoard as so thorough you doubted you’d be able to tell if two horses had come that way, too. And, knowing Tommy and Joel, they’d have tracked the infected…

You looked higher for a moment, above where people would disturb branches and realized some branches on trees were clean of snow - too high for a person to bump on their own but just the height a tall man on horseback would hit.

“Goddammit,” you muttered, steering Renaissance in that direction and pushing her on.

The horse was breathing hard and heavy when you reached a mansion outside the normal patrol area, fully gated with piles of dead infected outside. You looked through your binoculars and saw tracks from the horses leading inside. But something about it set you on edge. Something wasn’t right.

You commanded Gatling down and tied Renaissance to a tree that provided at least some shelter.

“Back soon,” you said quietly, giving her a scratch and offering her an apple from your pack. You made sure your weapons were loaded, rifle at the ready, handgun and knife at your hip, axe across your back. Gatling looked at you, licking her lips once, waiting for a command.

“Gatling, heel,” you said. “Hunt.”

She latched onto your side like glue, crouched lower and keeping her mouth closed and you moved as quickly as you could for the gates of the mansion.

There was no one guarding the place that you could see but you closed the gate behind you. If that had been enough to keep infected out before, you weren’t about to argue with it now. There were signs of plenty of people here, footprints of various sizes all heading for shelter inside. You tried not to think about the fact that you might have to torture information out of someone who left those footprints. If they had taken Joel and Tommy’s horses, you’d have to work quick to find what they knew so you could get to them. Torture could be the best option and, if it meant saving their lives, it was a price you were happy to pay. Because they had to still be alive, they had to be.

The mansion was dark and almost eerily still. It reminded you of some of the places you’d visited when dropping of horses you’d trained to be trail animals for rich assholes before the outbreak, the trappings of extreme wealth couched in some idyllic, fictional version of the wild west. People who in places like this couldn’t handle the real thing. Real wildness would chew them up and spit them out.

You crept through the house, looking for some sign of people, too afraid to call for Joel and Tommy and potentially bring down who knows how many people on you when you heard it, an agonized cry in a voice you knew, one you knew better than almost anyone else.

“Joel,” you breathed, and you were running, Gatling at your heels.

You knew that you should stop, assess, try to form a plan but he screamed again and you plowed ahead. A plan didn’t matter, all that mattered was one thing: getting to Joel.

You had to get to him.

He had to be OK.

He had to be.

***

Joel knew what it was like to die.

He’d come close enough enough times over the years. Even before the apocalypse began he had a few near shaves. A fall off a ladder at a job site and the thought of “this is it” as he crashed down, the contemplation of what would happen with his daughter if he was gone, if he’d done enough to make it that she would be OK. A car accident that knocked him out and disoriented him enough that, for a moment in the hospital, he thought he was dead.

The times since had been different, more acute. For a while, it felt like dying would have been a mercy. There was some innate biology that kept his body pushing to survive when his mind saw death as a welcome outcome when he got stabbed or shot when he was taking what he needed to survive or getting the shit kicked out of him when he got overrun smuggling.

This, though, was something else. He didn’t want to die anymore, not really. He had you and Ellie and even Savvy. He had a reason to live now - live, not just survive - and he wanted it, wanted that life that was hanging there, so tantalizingly close on the horizon as heat of his blood pooled around him.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what happened, how he’d ended up here like this. He’d reached the girl he’d seen through the binoculars as she damn near got bit, he’d shot the infected and pulled her up just as its teeth were getting close to her neck.

“We gotta move!” Tommy yelled, shooting another infected.

Joel gave the girl a once over as quick as he could.

“You bit?” He asked. She was panting for breath but shook her head. “Got a gun?” She nodded. “Good, let’s go.”

He tucked her behind him and led the way, trying to find a way through and out. There were dozens of infected, riled up and searching for something to sink their teeth into, desperate for someone to turn.

“Shouldn’t be this damn many!” Tommy yelled as they scrambled back toward the horses. “Why are there this damn many?”

“Worry about that later!” Joel snapped, dragging the girl along behind him. She stopped and shot two that were getting too close for comfort and, even in that moment, Joel could appreciate that she was a good shot. “We have to get the fuck away from here, try and lose ‘em…”

“Think we can get all the way back to town?” Tommy asked, reloading his gun.

“Hell no,” Joel shook his head. “Need to find somewhere else to hole up…”

“My friends,” the girl said, looking between the two of them. “We’ve been staying at a mansion, not far from here. It’s got a fence around it, we’ve got the perimeter secure, if we can get there we’ll have help…”

Joel and Tommy looked at each other. It was unlikely a girl this young would be running with raiders, more likely a group just passing through as they headed for the coast from a QZ. Tommy shrugged and Joel looked back to her.

“Right,” he said. “We’ll head there, we got horses outside, you can ride with me and just tell us where to go. I’m Joel, that’s my brother Tommy, we’re from a settlement a few hours from here…”

��Joel,” she said, something shifting in her eyes when she said it.

“Right,” Joel said, not paying much attention. That seemed stupid, now. But he’d been so worried about Ellie, about you, about getting out of there to make sure you both were OK. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Abby,” she said, an odd twinge in her voice. “My… I’m Abby.”

They made it to the horses by the skin of their damn teeth, infected at their heels the whole way.

The kid was right, at least. The mansion was secure, her friends clearing the area with molotov cocktails, infected burning just outside the gates.

“Jesus Christ that was close,” Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Fuck, ain’t come that close in a while…”

“Couldn’t get a good look at ‘em,” Joel said, looking back at the burning bodies. “See any bullet holes? Any sign they might have run into the girls?”

Tommy’s giddy smile over surviving faded and he gave Joel’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m sure they’re alright, Joel,” he said. “Shit, Bambi’s a deadeye. And you taught Ellie everything you know. They probably didn’t even come across these fuckers and if they did, they’re fine. They’re fine, both have made it through worse than a few infected…”

“We should get inside,” Abby said, looking more at one of her friends than at Joel. “Now.”

Things seemed normal then. Tommy was trying to get the group to come back to Jackson, Joel was worrying about you and Ellie.

And then they introduced themselves to the group and it shifted. Just like it had with Abby, the change sudden and sharp.

“Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or somethin’,” Joel said, thinking it was a joke. His mind was still elsewhere, still on you, still on Ellie, still on making sure you both were OK. He wanted to be back in Jackson, back in his quiet house, back in bed with you, pillows actually brought up from the living room and you close enough that he could trace little patterns over your soft skin.

“Because they have.”

He didn’t even see the shot coming, didn’t have a chance to warn Tommy to run, his brother on the ground - unconscious? Dead? He wasn’t sure - before he could even think. Joel screamed as the bullet tore through his leg and he went down, straining to get to Tommy through the pain but they swarmed him, these kids his brother had just been trying to talk into coming back to Jackson. They held him down, his back to a wall as Abby knelt in front of him, her face twisted into a snarl. She looked so different than she had when he’d first spotted her, alone and afraid and cornered the way he was now.

“Joel Miller,” her teeth were gritted, the rifle tight in her grip.

“Who are you?” He managed, pulling against the people at his arms, people who looked like kids, fucking kids.

“Guess.”

“Look,” he grunted and gave his arms a yank but they thrust him back against the glass. “Don’t know what I did to ya but I know I didn’t do it on purpose. Done a lot of shit in my time but I don’t hurt kids and you’re a bunch of kids…”

“You kill my dad on purpose?” She pressed the barrel of the gun to his chin. “You slaughter a whole hospital of people who were just trying to save humanity on purpose?”

Joel’s stomach dropped. Of course. Of course saving Ellie would come back for him. Of course now that he finally had a life that was worth living it was getting ripped away for the one thing he couldn’t regret.

“I did what I had to do,” he said, trying to free himself again, even though he knew it was futile. “But it was just me. Do what you need to do, make whatever speech you got saved up, but leave my brother out of it.”

She squared her jaw, a look of disgust on her face as she got to her feet. She shoved her gun into the hands of the man - barely a man, almost still a boy, Joel thought - beside her.

“Tourniquet his leg,” she snapped. The others looked around, hesitating. “Do it!”

She stalked off as another girl obeyed, Joel trying not to scream through the pain as she tightened the belt around his leg. His head was still spinning when she came back into view, a golf club in her hands.

“You don’t get to ask me for a damn thing,” she looked at him with so much rage, so much hate that, for a moment, he pitied her. That someone so young was so angry and in so much pain, that her father had cast his lot in with a bunch of child killers and paid with his life, leaving her alone, was tragic. “And you don’t get to rush this.”

She jerked her head toward the people holding him in place and they looked at each other for a moment before stepping back. He tried to move but his leg was fucking useless and Abby swung the club, catching him in the arm before she forced him all the way to the floor with a pained cry.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here now. Consciousness was hazy. So was the feeling in his limbs. At times, it was like he was floating, far outside his body and somewhere far softer and warmer and kinder than here. Part of him was back in his living room, almost a year ago now, on Christmas Eve when it was just you and him and he buried himself inside the hot clutch of your body by the glow of the holiday lights. He was lost in the feel of you, so soft and warm below him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt closer to another person in his life, lacing his fingers with yours and looking into your eyes as you came. He’d promised to take care of you then and he’d meant it, he’d meant it so far beyond that moment inside of you, he’d meant it for the rest of his life he’d take care of you.

He just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.

At least, he thought, he’d made things right with you. At least he’d gotten to tell you that he loved you again, at least he wasn’t dying wondering if you could ever have forgiven him. At least things were right with Ellie, at least she’d loved him again and she’d let him love her the way she deserved to be loved. At least she had you and Savvy now, people who would love her that way, too, and make sure she was OK. She was going to need someone to make sure she was OK when he was gone, she was so stubborn and she tried to be so much stronger than she needed to be. She needed someone. So did you.

At least he’d get to be with Sarah again. She was so much closer now than she’d been before, barely out of reach now, somewhere quiet and safe and peaceful. Just far enough away that what was happening now couldn’t reach her. At least she wasn’t seeing this. At least you and Ellie weren’t seeing this.

Something shifted in the room, the club not landing on Joel’s body again, chaos drawing him back into his body again.

Everything hurt, like he’d been put through a meat grinder. He wasn’t sure he’d ever hurt this much, at least not physically. Every breath was pain. He’d been lying here long enough that some of the blood pooling around his legs had gone cold.

There was a vicious snarl, the crack of a gunshot and he realized, suddenly, what happened.

“Gatling!” He could barely adjust his head enough to see where you were. Your rifle was on the ground but so was the only other gun Joel remembered seeing in the room. Your axe was tight in your hands as you threw one of the men back with a roar. You kicked the guns at your feet behind you and pointed to Joel and snapped your fingers. “Guard!”

The dog ran to him and crouched around his body, hunched low, snarling and barking. You screamed and Joel struggled to see what was happening, tried to get up but he was only able to make it a few inches off the ground before he collapsed back down, his body too broken to properly obey. You were so close, you were in trouble and he tried to focus on it. He had to get you out of here, he had to take care of you, he’d promised to take care of you. He was supposed to protect you, that’s what he was built to do and he was failing.

“Gatling, bite!” Your command was more of a shriek, sharp and fearful.

The dog shot away from him for a moment, a snarl followed by a pained wail and Joel could see enough to make out that the animal had tackled someone near you as you scrambled to your feet, more of them coming for you. Joel tried again to move but his injured leg gave out that time, collapsing below him before he could put even half his weight on it.

“Gatling, release!” The screaming stopped and he heard another snap. “Guard!”

The dog went back to him, snarling and snapping and

“Bambi!”

Joel turned his head too quick to the door, his neck screaming in pain, to see Ellie standing there, her eyes wide.

“Ellie!” He yelled through gritted teeth.

“Go!” You screamed at her, bringing your axe around, swinging wide on another person coming for you, just catching their arm. “Get help, get Jesse! Go!”

You circled toward the door, axe up, daring any of them to try to follow her.

“You’re not a part of this!” Abby prowled toward you. “Don’t make me kill you, too.”

“He’s a part of this so I am, too,” you panted. “If you wanna try and kill me, you better do it quick and you better be damn sure you do it right because the second I’m down, that dog will rip your throats out one by fucking one. She’s done it before, I’ve seen it. You’ll have to kill me - which she won’t take lyin’ down - and get to the guns behind me to take her down. She works quick, hell of a lot quicker than me. If you’re fightin’ both of us, you don’t stand a chance. You that confident? I am. So is she.”

Gatling snarled as if on cue.

“Other option is to get the fuck out of here,” you said. Joel could just see you around the dog, blood dripping from your side, lip split open. “We got backup comin’, we’re from a settlement of hundreds and we’ve fought off raiders and infected for fuckin’ years, think we can handle a band of fucking children without much trouble. This worth dyin’ for? Right now, I got your death warrant. Up to you if I sign it.”

“Abby,” one of the men said. “Let’s go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She snapped. “You want to just go? Now? Let him live?”

Gatling snarled again.

“You’re runnin’ short on time!” You growled, teeth clenched tight. “Now or never!”

“You lost control of the situation,” the man hissed. “We’re not all dying for your fucking revenge mission.”

She turned toward Joel and he watched the hatred and the rage move through her. He watched her think about bringing the club down one more time, just to see if she could land a final, killing blow before the dog struck hers. She moved a fraction of an inch toward him and Gatling adjusted, a vicious bark and a snarl ripping from her.

“He wouldn’t want you to die for this,” the man said quietly, so low Joel doubted you could hear. “And Miller probably won’t survive this, anyway. It’s done. Let’s go.”

“Fine,” she bit out, throwing the club aside. Joel tried his best to follow her with his eyes, praying that she wouldn’t go for you. Once the people had moved away from him toward you and the door, you called Gatling to you, the dog standing between you and the aggressors, snarling and threatening. They left, watching you closely, without a word.

The door closed and you dropped the axe, grabbing a gun from behind you on the ground and limping for Joel, blood dripping down your leg.

“Joel,” you fell to your knees beside him. He tried to say something but all that left him was a pained moan. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, you’re alright…”

“Tommy,” he managed, panting for breath. “Check… Tommy….”

“OK,” you said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Gatling, guard.”

You snapped your fingers and pointed to Joel again. The dog obediently came and positioned herself between him and the door, body like a coiled spring ready to attack. You went to Tommy and checked his pulse before adjusting him. Joel heard him groan and you said something he couldn’t quite make out before you were back to him, a bag with you this time.

“They’ve gotta have something in here,” you said, ripping through the contents.

“Baby…”

“Tommy’s alright,” you said, glancing at Joel before going back to the bag. “He’s comin’ around. Ellie will be back soon, she’s bringing help, it’s going to be OK Joel, it is…”

“Baby.”

“Hush.”

You found what you were looking for, a bag with some medical stuff inside. You set it nearby and looked over Joel’s back, wincing as you did.

“Need to look at the front of you, too,” you said. “I’m going to roll you over, alright?”

“Baby…”

“Shut up, Joel.”

Your hands shook and he cried out in pain as you moved him onto his back, flinching when you saw his leg.

“Jesus,” you whispered. “What’d they do to you?”

“Baby,” he said again, managing to lift a hand enough to almost reach your face. You took it, gently guiding his bloody palm the rest of the way to your cheek as you leaned down into it. “You’re bleedin’.”

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself. “It’s fine, I’ll be fine…”

“Need to take care,” he had to stop for a second, grinding his teeth through the pain as it wracked his body. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “Care of yourself. I’m… I can’t make it back, not like this…”

“Shut up, Joel.”

“Promised to protect you,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Lemme do it.”

“Protect me later,” you said, setting his hand down and ripping the bag of medical gear open with your teeth. “Going to put bandages on your leg, see if we can let the tourniquet off, save the leg…”

“Baby.”

“Shut UP, Joel!”

He watched you work for a moment and you felt farther and farther away with every breath. He could feel himself fading and he wished you’d just stop, that you’d take care of yourself and just hold him while he could still feel you.

“Need you to look after Ellie,” he said as you wound bandages around his thigh. “She’s gonna act like she doesn’t need anyone but she does and…”

“And she has you,” you cut him off with a glare. “So it doesn’t matter.”

You released the tourniquet on his leg and it was more of a relief than he’d expected it to be, the pain of it fading to a dull enough roar that he’d forgotten it was there until the weight of it was lifted.

“Gotta get this spot at your side, too…” you adjusted his shirt and leaned over him and he got a better look at your own side, a bright red splotch growing on your shirt, a long gash going from your ribs down toward your stomach.

“You’re bleedin’, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you said. “Getting you fixed up first…”

“Baby.”

“Joel, I swear…”

“Need to get you and Tommy back,” he needed to stop for a second to catch his breath, the rise and fall of his chest straining his ribs. “Can’t… can’t die knowin’…”

“You’re not dying here,” you snapped, your voice thick. “I just got you back, you’re not dying here, you’re coming home and you’re going to be OK and…”

You sat back, looking at the spot on his side that you’d just bandaged, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist as you did.

“Gotta take care of yours now,” he said, eyes tracing the spot at your side. But you shook your head.

“Outta gauze.”

“Baby…”

“It’s not that bad,” you sniffed. “I’ll just… hold pressure until Ellie gets back. It’s OK, you’re gonna be OK, I can’t….”

“Here,” he ground his teeth, breathing through another wave of pain. “Lay… lay with me. Cut side up, keep the blood from flowin’ too easy.”

You looked at him for a moment before nodding and lying delicately next to him. He adjusted as best he could so he could see you, touch you. You’d been hit in the face at least twice, one of your eyes swelling shut and your lip split open. But you were still beautiful, so damn beautiful.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said softly.

“Joel…”

“Wanted… wanted so much more time with you and the girls,” he said quietly. Your skin was soft, so soft it seemed like the sensation of it might be the only thing holding him to the earth. “I’m so sorry we’re not gettin’ that…”

“Stop talking like that,” you were crying now, not making any attempt to stop it.

“It’ll be OK sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll… you’ll be alright. Ellie’s gonna need you, keep an eye on her for me. Keep her outta trouble. Savvy, too. She loves you… she’ll… she’ll come around…”

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching out to cup his face, your fingers in his curls, one of the only places on his body he wasn’t bleeding.

“I’m so happy we made things right,” he said, his eyes searching yours. He wondered, if he watched you closely enough, if he could bring the precise color of them with him wherever he was going. “I love you so damn much, sweetheart. Need you to know that, OK? I love you.”

“I love you too,” you breathed. Your skin was so soft and your breath was warm on his skin. “I love you. I love you.”

You said it again and again. It was the last thing Joel heard before he passed out.

Next Chapter

A/N: Hi y'all ❤️

Again, begging for you to trust me, OK? OK.

I do love you but... feel free to yell at me in the comments or in my asks or DMs. I'll be responding to asks about the last chapter soon now that this one is up.

Thanks for going on this crazy ride with me!! It truly means the world.

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tlou2 spoilers

206 notes · View notes

tojisbbygworl · 11 months

Text

Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader pt. 2

Summary: Two anarchists meet at a concert and decide that one night just isn't enough...but one night is all they have

Words: 5,697

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Mutual Pining, SMUT, Oral (f receiving), Degradation, Marijuana, High Sex, Pussy Whipped, Slight Accent Kink, Slight Angst, Yandere if you squint, Reader and Hobie are 21+, Canon Divergence (Doesn't follow ATSV events/Hobie's universe is present day instead of 1978), Mentions of protesting and Cop City in Atlanta, I tried my best with the British slang

author's note: Here's part 2! This one is muuuchhh longer so you can really skip the part before the page break if you're just here for the smut. It's mostly just her (your) backstory.

Part 1 Epilogue

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

"Shit, it's brick out here."

"You're telling me." The difference in temperature from the sweltering venue to the city almost made Hobie want to go back inside and fuck her in the bathroom instead. But Y/N did say that she had a blunt at home and she seemed very eager to smoke it. Or fuck him. Either one was good.

He took a moment to admire her. He was right about her Demonias. They were long with lot's of large buckles and he loved that he still towered over her even though they were platforms. Now that they were out of the dark building, he could see the various tattoos that littered her arm and thigh. Fuck him, he was going to have fun with her.

She told him that she didn’t live far and they could walk there. That was fine with him, he didn’t want to get on a cramped train anyway. He did wish that he could just swing them there, but then he wouldn’t see the way her ass moves while she walks.

He would be lying if he said she didn’t intrigue him. From his knowledge, Atlanta, Georgia was considered the Deep South of America. It had to have been hundreds of miles away. And this area doesn’t seem like a place someone who was swimming in money would be living in. Not that it was terrible, more so humble. Like where he lived.

“So, tell me,” he calls out to her. She was walking a little ways ahead of him, courtesy of Hobie wanting to ogle her. She turned around when he spoke. “How does an Atlanta babe find herself at a Rico Nasty concert in Brooklyn?”

She waits for him to catch up to her then starts walking by his side. “Huh, it’s a…long story.”

“I don’t mind.” He answers honestly. Since they’ve left the concert, Hobie has felt a strange pull towards her that exceeded his feeling of lust. He wondered if she felt the same.

She went quiet and opted to look thoughtfully towards the ground. Hobie began to backtrack. “Or, I could shut up and let you sit on my face instead. Whichever one you want.”

She squealed and hit his chest making him laugh. It wasn’t really a joke, but Hobie’s glad to see that he didn’t make her uncomfortable. “Nah, your good,” she reassured him. “I can do both.”

“Oh?” Hobie raised his eyebrows and gave her his full undivided attention. She takes in a deep breath, let’s it out, and begins to tell him her story.

“Well, you seem like someone who can appreciate a rebel.”

“Yeah?” Hobie bemused. What would this girl be rebelling against? “So, what your like a runaway? Parents, maybe?”

She looked away. Ah, he read her like a book. Then she dropped a bomb on him. “Eh, kind of. More so the Atlanta Police Department.”

He froze. She giggled to herself pretending to not notice and turn around when she was some feet away. She knew he wasn’t expecting that. No one does. She could count on her hand how many people up here she’s told and he was one of them. She trusted him, and she doesn’t know why. She hoped he felt the same.

Hobie couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When he realized how far she was, he ran to catch up. “You're on the run from the Atlanta PD?” She couldn’t contain herself enough and she let out a snort and nodded her head. Hobie shakes his. “No. I don’t believe it. You’re having a laugh.”

“I’m deadass.” She answers still laughing. Hobie drops his head in utter disbelief.

“Well what in bloody hell did you do?” The both of you start walking again.

“...You might not know but, a couple years ago there was a huge uproar of protesting here. In the US, I mean.”

Hobie did not know. He assumes something terrible must have happened, and he’s sure that something like that would have reached London. Maybe it didn’t happen on Earth - 138.

He gingerly shook his head. “I was a part of them. I would organize with some close friends and hand out water and snacks while we were there.” She explained.

“My parents weren’t too happy about that. I had just graduated and I wasn’t going to college. I had a job at a tattoo parlor so…they thought I was a failure.” Hobie listened intently to every word she said. “They would say I just love to bring trouble and always used me going out as an example.”

“They were afraid an officer would come to the door next. And then one day shit went left and we were getting sprayed with tear gas. My stupid ass picked up a can and threw that shit. I guess it hit one of them in the face, I don’t know. I couldn’t see shit.” She giggles and he laughs with her.

“I was pinned down and put in a holding cell for about a week.” She continues.

“Shit.” Hobie knew a few people who that’s happened to. Every story shares the same thing, it’s fucking terrible.

She nods. “Yeahhhh…then my parents kicked me out.”

“Shit,” he exclaims. She continues to nod. “So is that how you got here?” She shakes her head. Hobie gasps. “There’s more?” Nod. He gasps again making her laugh at him. “Tell me.”

“Okay, Okay,” She waits to calm down a bit. “I was just staying with friends after that. Then, maybe some months ago, there was this project announced for the city.” Hobie frowns noticing how much more dejected she had become. “They were going to cut down a forest to create a ‘training ground’ for emergency services.”

“What the fuck…?” Hobie was appalled.

“You can imagine how that sounds to civilians, right? A mock city for law enforcement to play cops and fucking robbers.” She spits out. “I was part of the groups of people who stayed in the forest to prevent construction.”

Just like before, he stopped again. This time, in complete and utter admiration. She smiled at him. “That’s…amazing.”

“Thank you.” She nods her head back to the path so they can continue walking. Hobie stands just a little bit closer to her now.

“So...did shit go left again?” He asked only half joking. She grimaced.

“It was bad. There were a lot of gunshots, and screaming. And fireworks.”

“Fireworks?”

“Fireworks.”

He stared at her expectantly. “And what did you do with them?”

She looks around cutely while smiling. Hobie knows that whatever she did, she didn’t regret it for a second. “Maybe I lit up and threw it at one’s foot. And then it lit the leaves on fire.”

He can’t hold back the laugh that kept from his throat. “Ha!” He clapped his hands and looked at her. “What happened after that?”

“I think he recognized me from the protests or maybe I’m just a hot topic, because the way that man came at me and mowed me down.” Hobie jerked his head back.

“What?”

“Boy, yes. That man tried to beat me with his baton.” The story just kept getting wilder and wilder.

“How did you get out of that?”

“I stole his taser and shot it at his chest.”

“No, your taking the piss,” he shouted excitedly. “No you didn’t.”

“Hold on now because he was still holding me so I got shocked too.” Hobie cackled at her. “It worked though. He let me go and I ran away with some of the others. Only a few people stayed behind. I went back home and woke up to my face on the news the next day.”

The the emotional rollercoaster that Hobie was one was something for the books. He had never felt such quick changes in such little time. He was shocked, then sad, then impressed, then elated, then sad again. What is this girl’s life?

“Man I had to get the fuck out of there. My friend took me up to Maryland where her family lived. Then they brought me here. I got a lil’ ugly ass apartment and a new tattoo job. Made a couple friends, and now I’m here. With you.”

That last part wasn’t expected for either of them. It just came out. But it felt nice.

The two of them looked at each other and basked in their presence. She could feel the pride and admiration for her coming off of him in ways. She could see it in his eyes just as brown as hers. Good. He wanted her to.

A car pulled up from down the street. The both of them were released from their trance and looked. They recognized those kinds of headlights anywhere.

Hobie fought the urge to try and hide before the cop car got to them, as he didn’t want to scare her. There was no reason for her to run from NYPD, right?

Wrong. She grabbed his hand and slipped into the alleyway.

Hobie just let her pull him along. She clearly knows what she’s doing. After coming out on the other side of the street, she begins to keep her eyes alert. She lets go of his hand and continues walking. She just won’t stop giving him reasons to want her, huh?

“And what was that about?” He teases. She smirks at him.

“I didn’t come to New York to be a good girl.” And it was as simple as that.

She walks a few more feet then turns wondering why he’s not saying anything. But when she meets his eyes her heart start beating in anticipation. He was staring her down hard. His smirk was small and his eyelids were low. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

Hobie uses her surprise to his advantage. He walks up to her and pulls her into a tiny space between two buildings. It wasn’t much of an alley, but it did enough to shield their bodies from the street light; it only shining his wicks as he towers over her body and presses her against the wall. He nudges her chin up, winks at her, then meets her lips. Her hands rest on his shoulders as his arms trap her in. He resists putting his tongue in her mouth, as she still had her makeup on and this sweet but desperate kiss would turn sloppy.

He’s the one who has to pull away, her eyes were still closed when he did. “How much longer do I have to wait before I can have you?”

She catches her breath and tells him, “We’re only a couple minutes away, Hobie.”

Hobie leans down again and kisses her neck. She shudders and moves her hands to the back of his. Hobie gives her soft smooches, one lick, and a bite. Then, one more kiss, before he finally pulls away. He tugs her back onto the street and nods his head down the path. She starts to pick up the pace.

Her building wasn’t too shabby. At least the walls looked freshly painted. The inside of her apartment looked very cozy. She had rugs wherever it made sense to put them and low beam orange-yellow lights. She was walking ahead of him and turned around to speak. “Get comfortable on the couch. I’ll be right back.” Then she disappears down a hallway.

Hobie pulls off his boots and places them against the wall. Then he takes off his jacket and a few extra accessories that were a bit uncomfortable now that he had no adrenaline. He walks into her living room and plops himself onto the comfy, leather couch. Faux, he hoped.

He rests his arms and hangs his head backwards over it, eyes closed. Before Y/N disappeared down the hallway, she had flicked a little device on the wall. It must have been the heater since Hobie had just heard something blowing air in the walls. He lifts his head up and takes in his surroundings.

It was a bit small, but perfect for one woman living alone. There were unlit candles on almost every surface, and a beats pill sitting in the side of the room. His favorite sight, by far, was a fat bong sitter right on the coffee table. He chuckled to himself. She could probably live here with a significant other.

It was times like this that he wishes he was normal. He wishes he could wake up to a beautiful face, smoke something, leave home to work, dismantle corporations, or just spend time with his friends, then come back home to that same face, light some candles, and enjoy the rest of his night in her arms. He doesn’t understand why he’s thinking of her when he imagines this, but he invites it.

She comes back with a burner and a small Bic lighter. She uses the burner to light the various candles and Hobie admires her. She still had her clothes on except her shoes which he was happy about. He really wanted to see her tits in those fishnets. Her makeup was off. Her skin was glowing. Her Bantu knots were still in her head. He wondered if she would let him help her take them out, but he’s sure she just wants to fuck and get it over with.

He stops watching her to think about it for a second. When they’re done smoking and having sex Hobie would leave. Not just leave, go back to his own dimension. The thought that he couldn’t keep tabs on her, maybe follow her Instagram or even get her number hadn’t even crossed him. He didn’t like it.

His face must have seemed troubled, because she stopped and looked at him in concern. “You good?” She asks getting his attention.

“Hm? I’m fine, love.” She nods and reaches into her pocket and throws a condom onto the table, then behind her ear to take the blunt out. Then she sits next to him on the couch.

“Want some music?” She asks. Hobie nods. “I’m all punk’d out. Can I play RnB instead?”

“Please do. I feel like chilling right now.”

The pill begins to play soft drums and a bass before Erykah Badu starts singing. He liked music from Miles’s universe, regardless of the genre.

It’s like an unspoken agreement that they would be hanging out for a while. She lights it up, takes a couple puffs, then hands it over to him. He does the same. He takes longer drags producing a much larger cloud then breathes it all in. She looks at him incredulously.

“Ay? Problem, love?”

Her eyes narrow. “You think you’re so cool?”

He takes another drag. “I am.”

She grabs it from him and does a French inhale. Hobie couldn’t stop looking at her. He reaches his hands behind her back and pull her even closer to him. Her legs rested on his. She hands it to him.

“I told you everything about me. What about you? Did you travel to America just to see Rico?”

Hobie shook his head, trying to rack his brain for a proper explanation. “I travel around a lot. Had a pen pal who lived here and I came to see him. He told me about the concert so I went with him. Not as interesting as your journey.” He takes a drag. “Although I’ve had my fair share of trouble with cops.”

“Is that why we click so well?”

He smirked at her. “Yeah.” Another drag. “But, as banging as you are, you’re not on my level.”

Raising her eyebrow she sits up. “And why the hell not?” She jokes.

“Haven’t killed a cop yet.”

It was her turn to be shocked. She gave him the same fascinated look he had. “You’ve killed a cop?”

“Check the laces, innit?”

She stretches her head over the couch to look at his shoes and sure enough, his laces are blue. Speechless and filled with admiration, she freezes. Her neck is exposed, and Hobie doesn’t stop himself from licking it then giving it a smooch. She gasps and shudders. Slowly she smiles as she sits back down and stares at him.

“Does that excite you?” Hobie asks. She nods. He shifts, his pants beginning to get uncomfortable. He puts the blunt down on the side table, grabs her and pulls her into his lap. Her center collides with his crotch and they both groan. Hobie picks up the blunt, puffs on it to light it up again, then hands it to her. “Hit it nice and slowly. And lift your head up.”

She does as he asks. Hobie pulls her neck down to his mouth and his begins to bite and suck on it. She whines and takes the blunt out of her mouth, not being able to focus on it. Hobie hums in desperation when she starts grinding on him.

“You’re a proper sket, aren’t you?” He whispers. He’s sure she has no clue what he means, so he brings her face down to look at him. “Just a big fucking slut.”

She bit her lip and nodded. Hobie smirked, takes the blunt and drags, then kisses her. The smoke escapes their conjoined mouths as they explore them with their tongues. She starts to suck on his, making him hold her tighter to his body. Hobie makes a sound of pleasure in his throat that ripples through his chest. He pulls his face away from hers and they pant while staring at each other.

“Take this shit off.” He lays her down onto the couch and stands up to pull his shirt and jeans off. She takes off her shorts and fishnet bottoms at the same time. Before she could take off her top, Hobie holds her thigh and squeezes it. “Only take off the shirt.”

She nods and pulls the crop top off. Her tits fall in unison constrained by the fishnets. Hobie could moan at the sight of them. He was right about how good they would look. He doesn’t waste anytime in getting between her open legs and grabbing them. He lets his thumb flick her nipples, enjoying the feeling of fabric and skin. Her small moans go straight to his member, and he decides to take his underwear off completely. She braces herself.

He is long and curved. She knew he would ruin her when she got him home, but she underestimated how nice his dick looked.

“Don’t get scared. I’ll take good care of you.” He tells her.

“Yeah you better,” she tells him. She begins looking around. “Hey, where is it?”

“This?” He pulls out the blunt from seemingly nowhere then the lighter lighting it up once more. He hands it to her then leans over and takes a nipple into his mouth. Her moan was lethal, and Hobie loses his resolve. He was going to tease her, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure shooting through his body as he licks her nipple through the small diamond hole. She begins humping the air.

“You’re desperate to be played with aren’t you, love?”

“Uh-Huh” she says breathy. Her eyes are red and lidded. Hobie gets an idea.

“Hand that over,” he takes a couple more puffs giving her a kiss afterwards. She reaches out for it and he smirks at her. He holds it away from her, rubbing her thighs. She lets out an exclamation.

“Excuse you. That’s my weed.”

“What’s yours is mine.”

“Um, what’s mine is mine.”

Hobie trails his finger to her wet center, playing with her thong before pushing it to the side. He puts his thumb on her clit and she flinches. “Oh…”

“Yeah. Stop talking all that shit.” He begins to rub his thumb around it, his finger getting wet with each pass over. She’s whimpering and jerking her hips into his hand. “You like that?” All she can do is nod.

Hobie slows down and switches fingers. He smokes while inserting his middle finger into her. As it sinks further and further, she lets out a satisfied moan. He pumps it in and out of her pussy, a squelching sound filing the air.

He leans down and puts his tongue on her clit not letting up on fingering her too. She lets out a loud moan. Hobie puts the blunt on the floor, obsessed with the way her pussy gushes in his mouth. She starts to hump his face. Hobie watches her hand begin to reach out to him, then he grabs it and puts it on his head, wrapping her fingers around his wicks. He moans when she begins to pull him further into her pussy. He pulls his drenched finger out grabs her thighs and grips them tightly. He shakes his head back and forth, sucking and spreading her juices across her vagina.

“Ooo, I’m gonna cum.”

When he hears that he lifts his head and wipes his mouth. She whines but he shushes her by taking the blunt, holding it to her mouth, and she takes a drag from it. She is completely relaxed as she breathes it out, her eyelids lidded and eyes fluttering into the back of her head. He thought it was the sexiest thing you had done that night.

“Fuck, you’re peng.” Shit, he has got to start learning American slang. “That was sexy. I want to see you do it with my dick inside you.”

He takes the condom and rolls it on his dick, groaning under his breath from how it feels. He aligns himself with her hips.

“Ooo,” she lets out. “But wait, you don’t want some head?”

Hobie shakes his head and jerks himself. “I want you now, beautiful.” He keeps the blunt in his mouth and slaps his dick on her pussy. Her juices splash onto their thighs. Hobie grunts.

Keeping his head down, he looks at her face. Her eye lids are still low, but he can see her beautiful brown cornea staring at him full of lust and want. With the blunt in his mouth, he talks out the side of his mouth. “Beg for it,” he says.

Her eyelids widen, but the promiscuous look on her face doesn’t change. “What, baby?”

“Mm,” he says pleased by the pet name. He takes it out of his mouth and smiles at her. “Beg me to fuck you like a whore, love.”

She scrunches her shoulders up and tries to close her thighs, but she smiles and bites her lip. She liked the degradation and embarrassment of it all. Hobie liked it too. He pulls her thighs apart again. Placing his dick on top of her pussy, he waits for her to follow his instruction. “Come on, I know you can, pretty girl. You want this dick don’t you?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Call me baby again.”

“Please fuck me, baby.”

Hobie pumps his dick even more. He places the tip right at her hole, becoming evermore impatient. “Fuck, now say my name.”

“Hobie…mmm…” he slowly sinks himself into her.

“Fuck, say it again.”

“Hobie…” They sigh together when he’s fully sheathed inside of her. Her walls are already clamping around him. She’s so wet, and ready for his dick. Hobie keeps himself inside her and lights the blunt again reveling in her desperation. He takes his precious time to smoke some more while she begins to whine and grind herself onto him.

“Hobie, please fuck me.”

“Wait.” She whimpers for him, tears begin to form in her eyes from the depravity.

“Hobie…”

“If you keep saying my name like that I might stay inside you like this.”

“No, please don’t. I need it so badly.”

He inhaled a ghost. “Yeah?” He slowly unsheathes himself then slams back into her. She yelps.

“Yes, daddy,”

Hobie whistles. “Oh, I didn’t know you had that in the vault. You wanna keep calling me that, Atlanta babe?"

“Start fucking me and I’ll call you whatever you want.”

Hobie chuckles. “You got a mouth, don’t you?” He holds the blunt to her mouth again, grabs her hips, then starts fucking her. "I like baby a little more." She blew out the smoke the same way, it coming out in puffs from Hobie’s humping.

“Shit, love. You’re amazing.” He takes the blunt away and places it on the side table. Hobie grabs both sides of her hips and begins to fuck her harder. Their moans fill the apartment. Hobie stares at her beautiful breasts bouncing in her fishnets. Hobie’s too tall to lean down and suck on them, so he grabs one instead and squeezes it. She looks into his eyes and grabs his face. She smiles at him. Hobie’s eyes fill with curiosity.

“You can smack them if you want.”

Hobie slows down in disbelief. Then he smiles and starts fucking her harder. Hobie takes his hand and smacks one, as she requested. She moaned with a permanent beam on her face. Hobie is completely and totally enamored. He stops fucking her and pulls himself out.

“Come sit on me.”

“Okay, baby”

Hobie sits upright on the couch. She climbs on top of him and grabs his dick, loving the little grunt he let out She inserts him back inside her. They moan together while she sinks down onto his curved length. She pauses when he’s fully inside, his dick hitting places she didn’t even know could feel so good.

She grabs his face and pulls it up to meet hers. They stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever. Hobie lost himself in hers. He couldn’t move or speak or think. All of his emotions were portrayed in the way he looked at her. He wanted her, badly. In this moment she became everything to him. Then she started to rock.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered embarrassingly. The sounds that left his love’s mouth were lilted and pleasured. It didn’t take long for her to go faster. “Just like that, babe.”

Hobie’s breaths are loud and raunchy, while she lets out small pleasured hums. He takes his hands and rubs up her torso. Hobie wraps his arms around her waist and embraces her tightly. His head rests in her neck as he shifts down the couch the begins lifting his hips up into her. She doesn’t sound so quiet anymore.

“Oh…Y/N…” he whines.

Something inside of Hobie broke and he felt completely vulnerable. If she were to ask him anything, he would answer truthfully. He wanted to tell her everything. About the spider society, him being a spider man, the multiverse and everything within it. He wonders if she would accept it. Hell, he felt as though he could, she reacted better than he imagine she would when he told her he’s killed a cop.

For some reason, he felt like he could trust her. He thinks if he did tell her the whole truth, she wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. How would she react if he opened a portal right then and there and brought her to his own apartment in his own universe? Would she be okay with it? Would she even come in the first place?

He liked the idea of keeping her with him. He liked the thought of seeing her all the time without the risks of inter dimensional travel. Just coming back home, after the most tiring and troublesome day of working for Miguel, and seeing her beautiful body and even more gorgeous face.

Mm, he really liked it.

“Ngh…fuck, Y/N,” he whines into her ear, holding on to her body for dear life.

“Hobie, I’m gonna cum,”

He smacked her ass then pulled her face towards his. "Call me baby."

"Baby, I'm gonna cum." He bites down on her shoulder and begins to really pound into her forcing quick breaths from her lungs.

When the both of them come undone, they stare into each others eyes, not saying a word. She slowly grinds into him, and it overstimulates the both of them.

“Fuck, doll,” he whimpers looking between their stomachs. He was completely seated inside of her, and made him want to go for a second round. It normally would take him a minute to get himself back up, but with the way she was yearning for him with her eyes, it won’t take him long before he flips her around and takes her from behind.

As the both of them were coming down, Hobie began to feel an overarching sense of anxiety. This wasn’t Spidey-sense as there wasn’t any feeling of danger. No. Hobie was feeling…grief.

Grief from what? Why is it that he didn’t want to stop humping into her? Making her whisper curses into his ear? Was it because if he did, that would mean what they were having was over? If he pulls out of her, he’ll put on his clothes, find an alley, and travel back to Earth-138. Hobie can’t see or contact her. He would be gone forever.

Did she feel the same? Is that why she refuses to let go of him? Why she sounds like she’s on the verge of tears as she continues to milk his dick?

He could use some rest. He wanted nothing more than to finish smoking and fall asleep. But, when he thought of his bong at home it felt…wrong. As if there was a question and that wasn’t the right answer.

Why is he instead thinking about finishing what they were smoking then falling asleep on her bed? He needed to get a fucking grip. So he knocked out of his stupor. It felt like a bucket of cold water splashed over him and he came back to reality

She felt the shift. The thought they both shared that it was time to stop. Their time together has come to an end. The toll of a bell rings through her chest, and she fights the tears as she climbs off of him, kissing him sweetly before she goes.

Hobie sits there and looks at her standing up. He enjoyed that kiss. He wanted another one. He needed another one. He swallows his spit and asks her, “How was it?”

She smiles at him shyly. She was just the prettiest thing he had laid eyes on. “Amazing, Hobie.”

He smiled in content and relief. “I live to please,” he joked. It was otherworldly for him.

She giggled and walks by him, but before she could go, Hobie grabs her arm and pulls her down towards him. He captures her lips in a blissful kiss, then lets her go so she can walk to her room for a minute. Hobie isn’t sure what she’s doing, but while she’s gone, he lets his mind run. Tonight, he had found a perfect woman. She was beautiful and disruptive, not performative in anyway. All the qualities of a superhero in one civilian body. If anyone deserved the spider bite, it was her.

This…can’t be the last time he sees her. And why does it have to be? No one cares about the casual travel rule; everyone visits each other’s worlds all the time for whatever reason. The only thing was doing it sparsely so Miguel doesn’t catch on. Hobie could pop in here and there, right?…but would she want that?

How could it even work? He has no way of contacting her, so she’ll never know when to expect him. Is she just supposed to wait for the one day he can finally show up?

This was frustrating. Hobie always breaks the rules. He does what’s not supposed to be done, but he can’t figure out how this relationship would ever work. He can’t bring her with him, lest her particles stretch, bend, and spread across space and time, and he can’t stay here. His people need their spider man.

Damn, he wants to keep her so bad. She is perfect. Even if he could get to America back home, he would never be able to find her. The story is different in every universe. Hell, she probably wasn’t even in America.

She comes back into the living room adorned with pjs to see Hobie standing with his clothes back on. The condom had long been thrown away. Some of his belts and accessories were off as well as his jacket, but he looked as though he was ready to go. She felt…broken. And she didn’t know why.

This wasn’t her first one night stand, but she doesn’t think she’s ever clicked with someone like this before. Definitely not a stranger. Definitely not a fine stranger like him. He was perfect to her, in every sense of the word.

And she to him. Certainly, this was his Gwen Stacy. “You goin’?” She whispered. She cleared her throat and held up the roach. “Thought you would want to finish this.”

Hobie could feel that she was just as desperate to get him to stay as he was inclined to. He looked into her longing eyes with some of his own feelings, and considered a possibility. If Miles can have his Gwen from a different universe, why can’t he have the same? It worked for Miles.

And he knows the answer. It’s because she’s a regular person. Hobie is Spider Punk. He doesn’t belong here, and she doesn’t belong with him. But it wouldn’t hurt to dream of getting what he wanted.

He clears his throat. “I, um…” he couldn’t find the words he wanted to convey. How does he say, “I’m a spider man from a different universe and we will never see each other again.” without scaring her from how clinically insane it sounded?

Luckily, she speaks for him. “I’m saying…you can stay the night.” She finishes confidently. “If you wanted.”

He did. He did want to. He wanted to stay with her so bad. But he shouldn’t. He’s spent way too much time here, and he has no idea what would alert Miguel…he should go. He should go. He really should go.

Hobie…

Go.

“I would love too.”

Her beautiful smile makes its appearance and the doubts that Hobie had melted away. He drops his things and start to take off his shoes. When he walks towards her, he notices how badly she’s struggling to contain her excitement and he knows he made the right choice.

“…Just for the night,” She says, giving him the roach.

“Yeah.” He takes it from her and grabs her hand to walk down the hall into her room. “Just for the night.”

He’s gone before the sun is up the next morning.

ending a/n: I hope y’all liked this. I love writing angst so much y’all don’t even understand I had to put some in here. And yes, he takes her hair down for her.

I am cursed with writing way too much and I apologize for all that reading. I hope you still enjoyed it. It was very fun to write and it’s probably one my most favorite things I’ve ever written. I love Hobie so much, maybe I’ll write for him again idk chile. Maybe I’ll write these two again in an unrelated fic. Or maybe I’ll continue this and y’all can get y’all’s happy ending. Maybe. I don’t rly write those lmao.

Part 1 Epilogue

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

Taglist: @otaku-degenarate

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk smut #black reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #smut #spider punk x black reader #spider punk x black!reader #spider punk x black!reader smut #spider punk x black reader smut

477 notes · View notes

bonniebird · 11 months

Text

Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader Requested by Anon

Make a request Request: Anonymous asked: Can you do one of billy loomis with female reader instead of killing sydney he gets distracted by how obsessed he becomes with the reader and starts killing people that get in the way of their relationship. Thanks.

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MURDER, IMPLIED STALKING, IMPLIED KIDNAPPING, STABBING, MENTIONS OF BLOOD.

Read on Wattpad

Read on AO3

Sydney heard your feet slamming on the concrete tiled floor before she saw you. Raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked up at you, she could see that you were bursting to tell them something.

“What is it?” Tatum said as she leaned against Stu.

“The cops came! They were talking to Allen Fletcher during the last period. They think he did it. You know! The killings. Everyone is saying he did it!” You gushed out. Syd sighed and leaned back on her elbow, enjoying the sun. She didn’t want to hear about what had happened. Poor Casey and Steve. Stu and Billy glanced at each other and you saw Billy shaking his head, probably trying to dissuade Stu from making an inappropriate joke.

“Why would the cops think Allen Fletcher did it?” Tatum asked. You shrugged and glanced over at the doors where Allen was being led out by Tatum’s older brother.

“How should I know? Everyone is talking about it. I guess we’ll find out when Dewey tells you later.” You said as you glanced at Syd and Tatum then back at Allen, who glared at you when he saw you staring at him. Stu got up and leaned on your shoulder as you watched Allen. When Allen’s glare seemed to harden you jolted a little, feeling the unpleasant prickle of being watched. Stu laughed in your ear and pulled on your arm.

“Come one (Y/N). You keep staring at murderers, you're going to get yourself in some serious shit.” He said and laughed again as he sat back on the grass next to Tatum.

“Stu.” Billy said. You glanced at him. He wasn’t watching you or looking at anyone in the group. He was watching the cops putting Allen in the back of the police cruiser and fiddling with a blade of grass. His jaw tensed and untensed as he glanced at Stu again.

“What? There are plenty of movies where people get killed for looking at a guy wrong.” Stu said quickly and pulled a face at you.

“Rear window!” Randy said suddenly. He stood up and started to explain the movie's plot. You pulled a face and shook your head.

“Don’t tell me what happens.” You said quickly, cutting him off before he got too far in.

“It’s not bad.” Randy said quickly. You shook your head again and stepped closer to the group.

“No! That’s what you said last time you had a movie night and we watched that lady get stabbed so much. It was so gross. So much blood.” You complained. Tatum kicked at the air pretending to swing for Randy who held his hands up, laughing as he relented and finally stopped, sitting down again as Syd started scolding him, recalling having to have several sleepovers after you’d watched that movie with him. She’d lost a lot of sleep trying to convince you there wasn’t a shadowy figure outside.

“Well, there’s going to be a lot of blood when you get stabbed.” Stu said and grabbed you, pulling you down to sit on the grass next to him, legs over his lap. He made hand gestures as if spurts of blood were shooting everywhere. “We’re losing her!” He yelled. Several people walking past looked his way and gave him a disapproving look while Billy shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Stop it! That’s really insensitive.” Syd scolded before Billy could speak. You looked at Stu and tried not to giggle which only made him snort out a laugh.

“Sorry, Syd.” He muttered, sounding almost sarcastic.

“I bet Allen did it.” You said when the group went quiet. “He looks like a killer.”

“Oh yeah? What do killers look like?” Billy asked and leaned over. You looked over at the police cruiser still parked in the school parking lot and shrugged.

“The eyes I guess? I don’t know! Some people just look like killers.” You said and shrugged. Billy and Stu looked at each other before laughing.

“That is so not true. Ok. It’s mean.” Syd muttered as she stood up.

“Come on (Y/N). Let’s get out of here before these two idiots rub off on you.” Tatum said as she stood up and pulled you up. Stu made a few rude jokes but stopped when Billy nudged him.

“We’ll catch up with you.” Billy called out. Tatum waved him off and hurried you along to catch up with Syd while Randy hesitated and decided he’d rather stick with your group than Billy and Stu.

**********************************

Everyone was on edge the next day. You went to the usual meeting place but found no one. Hurrying to find the group, you found some of them gathered in front of Tatum’s locker.

“You’re late… you know you may as well have not come in.” Tatum said. You frowned at her. She nodded her head up the hall to where Billy and Syd were talking.

“What happened?” You asked. Stu leaned down onto Tatum’s shoulder.

“Another attack. Syd thinks it was Billy.” Stu said quickly.

“They’re sending us home for the rest of the day.” Tatum said as she slammed her locker. You all waited for Billy and Syd to stop talking but Syd stormed off and Tatum hurried after her, leaving you alone with Stu who hurried up the corridor to talk with Billy.

“Hey!” You jumped at the sudden sound and then found yourself shoved back against the locker behind you. “Did you tell Prescott I was a killer?”

“What?” You said in surprise. Allen had come out of nowhere and grabbed at your shirt. Your back hurt from being slammed against the locker and he was staring down at you coldly, almost lifting you off the floor by your shirt.

“You heard me!” He yelled. If you hadn’t believed the rumours that he’d been the killer before. You were starting to consider them now.

“Why don’t you let (Y/N) go.” Billy said. You hadn’t noticed him or Stu hurrying back towards you. Billy stared at Allen who looked between him and Stu. Something about the way Billy looked at Allen seemed to make him incredibly uncomfortable and he let you go. Stu yanked you under his arm, shoving you between him and Billy.

“We both know you’re the killer. Even your little girlfriend thinks so.” Allen said. Billy scoffed and shook his head, stepping closer which seemed to make Allen shrink and back up a little.

“Get out of here before we have a problem.” Billy warned. His voice was low and the way he spoke made the hairs on the back of your neck prickle unpleasantly.

“Whatever you say, killer.” Allen said and stormed off. Stu turned to you and quickly looked around the corridor. A teacher stopped to check if you were ok. When you said that you were and that you were planning on going home, they hurried after Allen.

“Come on. We’ll get you home.” Stu said and glanced at Billy who was still staring the way Allen had retreated. Stu slapped at Billy’s chest with the back of his hand. “Hey! You good?” He asked in a way that made you think there was something more to what he was asking. Billy seemed to snap out of his thoughts and nodded, going quiet and Stu led the way out to the parking lot. You spotted Tatum looking for you and thanked the boys before hurrying over to tell her and Syd what had happened.

“Are you ok?” Syd asked as you crammed into Tatum’s car.

“Yeah. Just kind of creeped out. It was so weird and scary.” You said and they both hummed in agreement.

“Everything is weird and creepy right now.” Tatum explained. You looked curiously at them and Syd started to explain what she’d gone through the night before. By the time she had finished, Tatum pulled up outside your house and looked over at you. “You sure you want to go home? I bet you’d be able to stay at mine with me and Syd!”

“Nah. I’ll be ok. It’s not like I’m home alone. Besides, if it gets weirder I’ll call.” You promised. They waved as you got out and hurried down your driveway and let yourself into your house. As soon as you went inside you could hear your parents arguing. You snuck past them to your room, not wanting to be forced into taking sides again. They’d been arguing for weeks. Eventually, the arguing stopped. It was starting to get dark. You’d been watching a portable TV set that you’d saved up and got from Randy at the video store. There was the distinct sound of someone leaving, the door slamming and one of the cars pulling away. Going to see what had happened you walked out of your bedroom to find the living room and kitchen empty.

“They really left me alone! After everything that happened!” You complained. Going to grab the phone you paused as it rang suddenly. There was a thump at the side of the house and you were certain that you heard one of the windows sliding open. Grabbing at a metal candle stick that sat on the coffee table in the middle of your living room, you ignored the phone and slowly walked through the house. The bathroom, your bedroom and the spare room all had the windows shut and locked. Continuing to your parent's room, the last room left, you slowly opened the door. The window was wide open. Flicking on the light you looked around. The bedclothes swayed in the breeze that came through the window making you jump. The door to the closet in the corner of the room was cracked a little while the large closet with a sliding door built into the wall on the other side was closed all the way. You could see clothes strewn on the floor as if someone had left in a hurry. Slowly getting close to the window you leaned over and tried to see if there was any disturbance to the closer below. The door in the corner creaked and you turned quickly, almost dropping the candlestick. Turning while looking out the window, your head sticking past the windowsill allowed you to see a large boot print on the white trim of the window. In a panic you slammed the window shut and hurried out of the room, rushing to the phone. Before you could pick it up it started ringing. Your heart was pounding. It was pounding so hard that your head began to hurt. As soon as it stopped ringing you picked it up but before you could dial a number it rang again. Slamming it back into the cradle you panicked, hearing the sound of the sliding doors of the second closet clearly enough that fear made your mouth water and your body start to sweat. You spotted a tin of loose change on the side table by the front door and grabbed it. Yanking the door open you ran. Despite ragged breath and your body screaming at you to slow down you didn’t stop until you reached the nearest pay phone. Most of the money in the tin, spilled on the floor as your shaking hands tried to scoop it out and show it into the coin slot on the pay phone. The candlestick was still in your clammy hands as you waited for someone to pick it up.

“Hey?” Tatum said as she picked up the phone. Why had you phoned her and not the police? You thought to yourself.

“Killer! My house! Help!” You wheezed out. Tatum screamed out to her brother and he quickly took the phone. You could hear the fumbling.

“You’re sure?” He asked. You could hear Tatum filling him in and yelling at him for not sending help right away even though he’d taken the phone from her.

“Yes. Please help.” You said quietly. Dewey handed the phone back to Tatum who talked to you while Dewey spoke quickly in the background.

“Ok. There are cops on the way! Dewey’s just left. Stay on the phone with me ok?” Tatum asked. Something in the distance caught your eye and you squished yourself down as small as the phone cord on the payphone would let you.

“I’m really scared.” You admitted quietly. She continued talking to you until Dewey pulled up at the phone booth and hurried you to his car. He drove you the rest of the way up to your house where you found a huge number of police hurrying around. One of them was holding a mask that looked familiar.

“(Y/N)?” One of them asked the boss you thought from the way Dewey straightened up and tried to look serious. You nodded. “We talked to your dad and he said that this might be yours. Is it?” He held up the mask and you swallowed. It was the same kind of mask Syd had described.

“No sir.” You answered quietly. He looked at you for a moment and then nodded as if he believed you.

“We’re going to have to look around a little more. You might want to find somewhere else to stay for the night.” He said before walking off. Tatum pulled up at that exact moment with Syd flinging herself out of the car and hurting over to you.

“Are you ok?” You both asked as they hugged you.

“I’m ok.” You said quietly.

“Tatum. Take (Y/N) back home with you. I’ll try and find her parents.” Dewey said quietly. Syd sat in the back with you as Tatum drove home. You slowly filled them in on what happened.

“Fuck. That must have been so scary!” Tatum gasped out.

“We’re glad you’re ok.” Syd said and smiled at you. You tried to smile back but found it rather hard. You were grateful to slump down on Tatum’s spare bed. You were asleep fairly quickly. Syd untied your shoes and moved you fully onto the bed while Tatum found you a blanket. They stayed up most of the night talking about what was happening.

You went home the next day. Your dad showed up, complaining about the cops being all over his house. He didn’t bother telling you that he and your mum had broken up that same night until you got home and asked him where she was.

Deciding that it was all too much you went to your room. For a few weeks, nothing terribly eventful happened. There were a few more killings. Your mum moved out for good and you started to think you were going crazy. There was a smell in your room that was familiar but didn’t belong in your room. Almost like a perfume or a cologne that you couldn’t place. Furthermore, things seemed to move around your room, clothes went missing and sometimes you couldn’t remember if you’d left your window open or shut it. You only opened it during the day because of the heat. Dewey said it was normal, due to your hypervigilance that you were getting mixed up. You weren’t so sure. At one point during the night, you’d rolled over and thought you’d caught sight of someone kneeling at the side of your bed watching you sleep. You had hurried to turn your bedside light on but found that there was no one there and decided it was probably just the position of your chair in the corner of the room.

“I just feel super jumpy.” You explained to Syd and Tatum. You were gathered in the new section of the video store.

“I am too. You’re going to be.” Syd comforted while Tatum nodded and agreed. You saw Syd glance across the store and saw Stu and Billy looking over at you both.

“You still think it could be him, Syd?” Tatum asked. She shrugged and continued talking. You were distracted by the unpleasant prickling feeling of being watched. Turning round the corner to the next aisle you found Allen at the other end. You hurried back to join the girls and insisted that you leave.

********************************

Allen started to follow the three of you when Billy grabbed his shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Why? Couldn’t get your fix the other day? Can't stand the competition?” Allen asked smugly. Billy stared at him in a way that made Allen shift nervously and back up, only to find Stu trapping him between the two of them and a row of shelves on either side.

“Watch your mouth.” Billy said slowly.

“Scared they’ll know what you are? That I’ll blow your cover?” Allen snapped and smiled. Billy laughed a little, Stu mimicked the sound as if echoing Billy.

“No. Just annoyed that you think you can take what’s mine.” Billy said coldly. He made Allen jerk back and slammed his back into Stu’s chest, making Stu grunt and complain, as Billy’s hand dug into Allen’s pocket. He pulled out a lump of fabric. When the last few customers knew them headed to the till Billy dangled the fabric from his fingers. A pair of your underwear. “You want to watch from a distance, take pictures from the window, that's fine. But you don’t come inside. We are the only ones that go inside.”

“You can’t stop me. I have pictures of you creeping around (Y/N)’s room that I know the cops would like.” Allen said confidently.

“Oh yeah, Fletcher! We have pictures too.” Stu said. He pulled a small polaroid from his back pocket and held it over Allen’s shoulder so that all three of them could see it.

“I think the cops would be more interested in knowing why you have a shed with that big padlock on it. Why would you need a bathroom and a bed with ropes and handcuffs in a shed?” Billy asked and glared at Allen who swallowed nervously.

“You just want to play with (Y/N). To snuff her out. I want to keep her forever!” Allen whispered. Stu let out a loud laugh and Billy showed the underwear in his pocket.

“Stay away or we snitch on your love nest in the woods.” Billy warned. He and Stu left Allen nervously standing in the horror section as they left.

“You don’t think he’ll say anything do you?” Stu asked Billy as they headed out into the street. After the murder at the school, cops were everywhere. He tried not to think about it as he paused and turned to Stu. “I mean… he said he has pictures of you. Is it really worth it? Changing your plan to go after (Y/N). We tried once already and she got away. Why don’t we go back to the original plan?”

“Tatum said that (Y/N)’s parents are both away until Monday. They’re splitting up over some woman. She’s spending the weekend with Tatum. So we have tonight to deal with (Y/N). You just have to keep Tatum distracted until we can deal with Syd.” Billy said quietly as he looked around to make sure that no one heard him. Stu looked uncertain for a moment and then nodded.

“Sure. Sounds like a plan.” Stu said and grinned.

They made new plans and managed to sneak up to your house without being spotted. Your parents were the only ones home and they were arguing loudly enough that Billy was able to use one of the knives they had with them to loosen the lock on your bedroom window. He opened it just a crack so he could let himself in later. Trying to loosen the lock in the dark had proven frustratingly difficult. They found a place to stow some supplies and then headed down to Billy’s car. The rest of the day passed by slowly. It made Billy irritable.

“Why don’t we try and find those pictures Fletcher said he had?” Stu offered. Billy sighed and then shrugged.

“I guess we don’t have anything to do until (Y/N)’s parents leave.” He muttered. The two of them headed to Allen’s house and parked in an off-road. They slowly picked their way down a dirt path through woods that backed up onto the shed they’d found days before. It was locked with a padlock and a short walk from Allen’s house. They stopped before they got too close and tried to see if there was anyone home. An older lady was cooking in the kitchen. She passed by the window every now and then. They moved closer and rounded the corner of the house. A man, who looked a couple of years older than her, was watching tv in a living room that they passed. The window to a bedroom that they assumed was Allen’s was shut and they couldn’t get it open. But there was a window open next to it. It led to a bathroom making it difficult to quietly climb in.

“Ok. We get into the room, find the pictures and then take the ones with me in them. We should be able to get out through the window in there. As long as we don’t make any noise we should be fine.” Billy muttered quietly as Stu managed to drop down through the window after him.

*******************

You found it hard to get to sleep at first. You’d checked the house several times to see if it was still locked up. Your dad had left to spend the night with his new girlfriend. Your mum had gone out of town that morning. You’d finally had enough of them fighting with each other and yelled at them for leaving you alone when someone had tried to break into your house weeks before. They’d only coughed up another twenty in cash and told you to be careful.

There was a high squeaking noise that woke you. It sounded like one of the windows was opening. You froze in your bed and listened carefully, hoping that it was nothing. But there was more movement and you got up. Carefully you opened your door and stepped out to the corridor. You crept into the living room and hopped to make it to the kitchen where the phone was hung in the cradle on the wall. There was the distinct sound of footsteps which made you panic and look around in the dark, trying to see where it was coming from. You screamed when a figure lurched out of the dark of the kitchen and charged at you. Magangind to grab an armchair and fling it in the way you bought yourself enough time to run back to your room and slam the door shut. You pressed your back against it as you reached for the light switch. Turning when the door started to rattle you didn’t see Billy pulling the door open.

Billy glanced back at Stu who lifted his mask off and looked at Billy who motioned for him to stay quiet. “Go scare him off.” Billy whispered. He yanked the Ghostface mask off and tossed it along with the robes to Stu who hurried to hide them and ran round to the kitchen window.

“Hey!” Billy whispered. You turned and looked at him with a fear in your eyes that sent a sick thrill through Billy. He had to remind himself to look nervous.

“W-what are you doing here?” You asked. Billy paused for just a moment and his face darkened and then he stepped closer and smiled a little.

“Stu and I were getting some cheap beers at the corner store down the road. We heard a scream and remembered that Tatum said you were out here alone tonight. Luckily we did. We almost went straight home, thought it was an animal or something.” As Billy spoke he leaned his weight on the door to help keep it from opening. There was a loud crash and a scuffling.

“Where’s Stu?” You asked suddenly. Billy looked down at you and looked at the window.

“He urm. Went to get help.” Billy said stiffly. The house went quiet again and you looked out the window. He glanced at it and moved away from you.

“I’ll go and see if the coast is clear.” Billy offered and moved you away from the door. You stared at him, terrified that whoever had run at you would knock down Billy and get you. He stepped out into the hall and looked around. He couldn't see anyone but it was quiet and no one else had gotten into the room with you so he assumed everything was fine.

“They’ve gone. Must have heard me saying that Stu went for help and got scared.” Billy shut the door behind him and you looked relieved. He walked around you in a circle, watching you closely. You seemed to be entirely relaxed even being alone with him. It was strange, the way that you had no problem being near him but Syd’s skin would crawl. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. It fascinated him. You really had no idea about what he wanted to do to you. He reached down to the knife holstered to his leg and went to pull it out when you suddenly ran at him. He panicked for a moment until he felt your arms crush around him tightly as you hugged him, face pressed against his shoulder. He inhaled your soft smell. The urge to sink the blade in his hand into your side screamed through his head. But you made pathetic soft noises and he found himself letting the knife drop to the floor with two quiet thunks as the blade and then the handle hit the floor. His arms moved around you, his hand resting at the back of your neck as you leaned in more. He stared across the room, seeing himself in a small mirror on your bedside table. Staring at himself he realised he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill you. At least not right now. You needed him. That meant that you would leave him. He liked the idea of that. You. Not being able to leave.

“Billy? You get it… done?” Stu said as he hurried in. Billy squeezed you tighter so you wouldn’t turn and see Stu in his Ghostface costume. Stu pulled his mask off and gave Billy a look.

“Did you find that help we needed?” Billy asked. Stu stared at him for a moment and sighed.

“I couldn’t get anyone to help us but I… chased off whoever broke in. I’ll go and check if the phones working now.” Stu said slowly. Billy raised his eyebrows and gave a small nod. Stu hurried out and Billy loosened his grip. You stepped back and sighed. Then you turned away and dropped onto your bed. He took the opportunity to grab at the knife on the floor and hide it in the holster. He was going to sit and talk to you but Stu shouted for help. Billy said to stay where you were but there was such a loud commotion outside that you couldn’t help but go and see what was happening. Maybe you could help if the attacker came back. Maybe you could make a break for it. You stopped as you watched Billy and Stu trying to shove Allen Fletcher into the boot of Billy’s car.

“What the fuck!” You gasped. They both turned. Billy looked annoyed while Stu looked surprised but tried to play it off. You glanced down at Billy’s leg. His trousers had ridden up a little and caught on his boot. You could see the knife strapped to his leg. Stu moved his left leg so you couldn’t see it. But that drew your attention to the ghost face masks on the floor next to the car.

“No.” Billy said firmly as you panicked and then bolted. You could hear him running after you as you darted into the dark woods. It was darker when you got further in and you had to slow down a little to find your way. Even though you knew the woods well enough you found it hard without any landmarks being visible. Billy suddenly lurched out of the dark, knocking you down. Your head smacked against a tree as you both went down. Your vision swam. You lost your bearings, and falling to the floor felt almost as if you were rolling. Then Billy was on top of you, his weight holding you down as he brandished the knife in his hand. Realising you couldn’t get away again you froze up.

Billy tutted and moved your head inspecting the wound on it. “Look what you did. Now you’re hurt. That’s why you shouldn’t run away.” His voice became deeper as he looked down at you, even in the dim light you could see the cold look in his eyes. “You get hurt when you try and leave me.”

“You. You killed Allen.” You said quietly. Billy looked at you as if he found it rather funny that you were so scared.

“No. We just… helped him decide to leave you alone.” Billy said slowly. You stared up at him helplessly as your head burned with pain. You yelped when he was suddenly up on his feet and started dragging you along after him, his hand twisted in your shirt. Your feet skidded along the dirt as he pulled you along. Stu joined the two of you, pulling something behind him, Allan you assumed. They muttered to each other, stopping at a shed. He shoved you towards Stu who kept a hold of you with one arm. Billy fumbled around in the grass around the shed until he found a rock and broke the lock off. He yanked the door open and shoved Allen inside. He grunted and moved around as Billy found the light and pulled the cord. You took in the room. There was a small sink and camping stove on a table. A bed in the corner and in the middle of the room was a series of chains sunk into the concrete floor. You looked up at Stu with panic and found that he was watching Billy intently.

“You have… a creepy dungeon?” You asked quietly. You honestly didn’t want an answer but really hadn’t been able to stop yourself from talking.

“No! No. He had a creepy dungeon. This is where you were going to be kept like a dog. I saved you!” Billy said. His voice was drawn out, gravelled and unkind. It made you shiver unpleasantly. Allen started to say something and Billy’s face stiffened. You jumped as he turned suddenly and crossed the room with just a few strides. He stabbed Allen several times in the stomach and then sighed and turned back to you. He sighed as if Allen speaking up had frustrated him and jabbed the knife in the air towards you. “I saved you and now you owe me (Y/N). You’re going to do what I want from now on. Understand?” He walked closer and closer until he was close enough that you had to flinch backwards towards Stu to avoid the tip of the knife in Billy’s hand from picking your skin. You nodded and Billy’s eyes flashed with an angry look.

“Y-Yes. I understand.” You said quietly. He smiled at that and nodded. Then he looked at Stu who giggled in a way that made you even more uncomfortable. “Happy? Now we can finish our plans.”

Tag list:

@the-caravello-post@killing-gremlin@aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18@lchufflepuffcorn @savagemickey03@kaitieskidmore1

#billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #bonniebird #scream #scream 1996

414 notes · View notes

pink-sparkly-witch · 7 months

Text

Forever Hold Your Peace

Summary: Dean and Y/N dated for years, but his hunting lifestyle means he’s unwilling to move past dating. A few years later, Y/N invites Dean to her wedding to another man. A man who isn’t right for her, one she doesn’t love, one she hopes Dean stops her from marrying.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (past)

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: The quote: “You’re never going to have a happy ending—just remember that.” for @j3bingo. This quote will be in bold.

Warnings: implied smut, double date, insecurities, wedding jitters, religious wedding ceremony (not overly descriptive), heart-to-heart, cheating, smut, fingering, oral sex (m rec), unprotected p in v, creampie, break up.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I’d like to start by saying that this is fiction, and I do not condone cheating in any capacity. I personally think it’s vile and unforgivable. With that being said, a little brainstorming session for this fic resulted in a cheating plot bunny that my muse would not leave alone and this is what happened. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“Dean!” you giggle as your boyfriend nuzzles at your neck, pulling the hem of your dress up. “We’re going to be late!”

“Don’t care,” Dean skims his fingers over your panties, groaning when he feels the damp spot already there. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, baby, and I need you. Now.”

You don’t argue with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards your lips.

Walking into the restaurant twenty minutes late, your hand rests on Dean’s forearm as he guides you slowly and carefully to your table, being mindful of your high-heeled feet.

You grin, remembering what your boyfriend had done to you not half an hour ago and how he’s still taking his sweet time and is sure to be pissing Sam off with every second you’re late.

“Finally!” Sam groans as you reach the table. Dean, always the gentleman, pulls your chair out and tucks it back in, checking that you’re comfortable before he takes his seat.

“I know that look,” Eileen grins, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” you say bashfully.

“Don’t be. I know you haven’t seen each other in six weeks,” Eileen smirks.

“Eight,” you blurt out. “Not that I’m counting.” Chuckles ripple through around the table, and Dean places his hand on your thigh and squeezes.

“So, what did you guys want to tell us?” Dean asks the couple sitting across from you.

“We’re engaged!” Eileen says, throwing her hand out to flash her ring.

“Oh my God, congratulations, guys!” you gush, standing to hug the couple. You’re genuinely happy for them. Sam and Eileen are made for each other, but it’s tinged with some sadness because you wish you were the one sporting a gorgeous, sparkling diamond ring and planning your wedding and future with Dean.

“Now Dean just needs to get his shit together and finally propose. It’s been five years, dude. Put a ring on it already!” Sam teases him, and you laugh good-naturedly but can’t help but notice your boyfriend isn’t even trying to pretend to be humoured as he scowls at his best friend.

Dean is quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the evening. The thick tension that fills the car ride home makes the insecurities you have about your relationship resurface.

While he’s never given you reason to doubt that he loves you or finds you attractive, his reluctance to take your relationship further and get engaged is starting to wear on you.

“Are you okay, De?” you ask cautiously. It’s not the first time someone has asked him about proposing - Sam and his friends never stop asking, but every time, Dean would push you away and pull into himself.

“Fine,” he nods, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. You know he’s not fine, but you don’t want to push. He clams up whenever someone mentions getting engaged, making you think you’re not worthy of him or good enough to be his wife.

You know it’s not healthy to ignore the issue, and you know if you want to know what’s going on here, you need to be the one to bring it up, but you’re scared. You love him deeply. Dean is your everything. And if you have this conversation with him, it could end your relationship. But you can’t keep going like this. You want to get married, and if it’s not what he wants, then you don’t think you can stay with him.

Caught up in your thoughts, you don’t notice you’re in Dean’s apartment until he throws his keys on the sideboard.

“We’re okay, right?” It comes out of your mouth before you’ve thought about it, and you know there’s no backing down now. You and Dean are having this conversation tonight. “Because every time someone gets engaged or mentions us getting engaged, you clam up and shut me out. What is it? Do you not want to get married? Or do you just not want to marry me?”

“Can we not do this right now? Please, Y/N?” Dean asks, defeat clear in his tone.

“I think we need to, Dean.”

TWO YEARS LATER

“Y/N, honey, you look beautiful!” Your mother gushes when she sees you in your champagne wedding gown.

“Thanks, Mom,” you smile, straightening the front of the dress.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, taking your hands to stop you from fidgeting.

“Nervous,” you chuckle, and your mom smiles.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t!” she giggles. “Let’s get a few photos before you walk down the aisle.”

The past two years have been a blur, and you don’t really know how you got here. After you and Dean broke up, you weren’t looking for anyone to take his place yet. But when you saw him and another woman leaving a bar not even a month after you ended your five-year relationship, your best friend declared you needed to get back out there and get laid.

That’s when you met Matt. Sensible, quiet, safe, non-hunting Matt. He was everything Dean wasn’t, but at the time, that’s precisely what you needed. Within a year, you were living together, and three months after that, you were engaged. Next thing you know, your wedding day is here, and you’re questioning if you’ve even been present in your own life for the past two years.

It’s just the last-minute jitters you keep telling yourself, but you know deep down this isn’t what you want. You want to get married and have a family. You want a nice man who works hard and treats you right. Someone who has good values and ethics that match yours. Matt has all of those qualities, and yet something is missing.

“Smile, honey,” your mom says, and you do, completely on autopilot as you have been since Matt proposed.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest says, and your heart pounds in your chest.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but when the priest’s words are met with silence, your heart sinks, and you resign yourself to your fate.

Dutifully, you repeat the vows the priest tells you to, say I do and let Matt place the ring on your finger. And smile prettily as Matt does the same, and you put a ring on his finger. You kiss your newly pronounced husband, take his arm, and walk down the aisle.

At the back of the church, in the last pew, your gaze lands on familiar green eyes, and you feel pure anger. He came… he came, and he didn’t stop the wedding. Absence didn’t make his heart grow fonder, and he still doesn’t want to marry you. He doesn’t want you.

The rage dulls quickly, and bile rises in your throat as you realise what you were waiting for before you said your vows. You were hoping and praying Dean would stop the wedding, that he’d tell you what a mistake he made and that he still loves you and wants you back.

But he didn’t. And now it’s over for good.

Somehow, you manage to pull yourself together enough to greet each guest as they leave the church. Dean politely kisses your cheek and smiles sadly as he tells you you make a beautiful bride. He congratulates Matt and tells him he’s a lucky man, and then he’s gone.

Someone ushers you both away to take the official photographs with your family and close friends, and you once again force a smile on your lips, trying to mask your broken heart.

“Hey, sweetie,” Matt kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you lie, getting your marriage off to a good start. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. I’m going to the room for a bit. Refresh my makeup and take my hair out before these hairpins give me a headache!”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks, and you shake your head with a giggle.

“No. I’ll be fine. Besides, we can’t have the bride and the groom disappear. People will talk!”

“I guess you’re right,” Matt chuckles. “Hurry back so I don’t miss you.”

“I promise, I won’t be long,” you reassure as you kiss his cheek and sneak away to the bridal suite for some breathing space.

Walking along the hallway, you smile politely and thank the hotel’s non-wedding guests who congratulate you as you pass on the way to your room and hope the tears don’t fall yet.

You sigh in relief as you swipe the card and open the door. Hurrying inside, you turn around to push the door closed, only for a foot to push in and stop it.

“Y/N? Can I come in and talk,” Dean says. In your shock, you let go of the door and step back, unintentionally inviting him into what you’d hoped could serve as a sanctuary for you to get your shit together.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dean.” He’s already closing the door behind him, and you know no matter what you say or do, he’s not leaving until he says what he came here to say.

“Sweetheart,” he says, and your body responds to the term of endearment with goosebumps. “Why are you crying?” he asks as he steps towards you, but you step back.

“Why are you here, Dean?” you ask, throwing your hands up in exasperated defeat.

“You invited me,” he responds, confused by your question. “And I gotta say, Y/N, I’m glad I came because you’re making a huge mistake here. You don’t love him.”

“Of course I do. I just married him, for god’s sake. He’s kind and funny, and he takes care of me. He’s a good man,” you defend.

“That doesn’t mean you should marry him, Y/N!”

“At least he wanted to marry me. You didn’t think I was good enough for that!”

“What?”

“I know you, Dean. When we were friends before we started dating, you always used to talk about settling down and getting married one day. Having a couple of kids and a dog and a white picket fence. We were together for over five years, and whenever I brought it up, you shut me down or changed the subject. You strung me along instead of telling me you didn’t love me and letting me go.”

“I didn’t mean—I did love you. I still do. I didn’t ask you to marry me because I was scared I wasn’t enough for you. I was always gone, always hunting some creature from hell, always putting you in danger. I couldn’t drag you into all that. I love you too much—”

“That’s bullshit, Dean, and you know it! Sam and Eileen got out of the life just fine. If you wanted to make it work, you’d have made it work. Fuck, I thought we were working!”

“We did work because we loved each other, but sweetheart, every time we saw each other, you knew the exact number of days or weeks it’d been since we’d last seen each other, and it killed me. Because you deserve better than that.”

“Shouldn’t I have been the one to make that decision? Been the one to tell you if I couldn’t handle the time apart or you hunting monsters every other week for months on end? No,” you hold your finger up at him. “Don’t answer that because you know what? I don’t care. It was a mistake to invite you today.”

“Then why did you?” Dean asks, and you frown, taken aback by his question.

“Because as stupid as it sounds, I thought you might still love me. That we still had a chance. That just maybe, you’d…” you sigh. The worst thing you can do right now is tell him you wanted him to stop the wedding; wanted him to be the reason you called this shit-show off.

“I do love you. I made a mistake when I let you leave me, and you’re making one right now. You don’t love him like you should. Like you loved me. And if you go through with this, you’ll regret it.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I do in church? In front of God and a whole bunch of witnesses - you included?”

“You can get it annulled. He’s not right for you, sweetheart.”

“And you are?” you scoff, exhausted with the whole situation.

“Yes!”

“You’re unbelievable, Dean! I’m married. Happily.”

“You said you know me. Well, I know you, too, Y/N. You’re not happy. I know what you look like when you’re happy and in love. And this isn’t it. You don’t love him. He loves you, sure. That’s clear from a million fucking miles away, and maybe that’s why you’re marrying him. But you don’t love him. And if you’re set on staying with him, you’re never going to have a happy ending—just remember that.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” you finally let it out. The thing you’d secretly been hoping and praying that he’d do.

“Because you look absolutely stunning, Y/N. You’ve always wanted to be a bride and get married, and he’s a decent, safe, and stable guy. And I can’t…” he trails off and looks away from you for the first time.

“You can’t what, Dean? Love me? Because you did. Really, really, well. Take care of me? Because you did that, too. Marry me? If being with you means I can’t be a wife, it doesn’t matter because I don’t need to be your wife to be loved and cared for by you.”

Dean’s lips find yours, and you gasp in surprise. He slides his tongue in your mouth, and you moan. You’ve missed his kiss, his taste… fuck, you’ve missed him.

“Say the word, sweetheart, and I’m gone forever, but I need you to know that I never stopped loving you, and I never will. I’ll get out of the life for good. I’ll get a house and a job, and if you want me, want us… we’ll leave here together right now.”

You kiss him this time, knowing it’s wrong, but it feels so right. You haven’t felt like this since before that fateful dinner where Sam and Eileen told you about their engagement.

“Dean, please,” you gasp against his lips, and he quickly pulls your dress up around your waist and slides his hand into your wet panties.

Dean groans as your slick coats his fingers, and without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you and curls them while thumbing your clit. It’s been so long since you’ve felt pleasure like this, and you quickly fall apart on his fingers.

“Good girl. You must’ve needed that, sweetheart. Even our first time together, you didn’t come that fast,” Dean growls in your ear, and you shiver at his warm breath brushing against your neck and hair. “Mattie boy’s not much in the bedroom, huh?”

The mention of your husband’s name should snap you back to reality, but it only does the opposite, and you drop to your knees and undo his belt. You moan when you uncover his hard, leaking cock and wrap your lips around it.

“Fuck, baby girl, I forgot how good that mouth is,” Dean growls, sliding his hands into your hair and pulling on it. “So pretty with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart.”

He still knows what to say to get you going, and his words make you moan around his cock, smirking when it makes him push in further. “Fuck, Y/N, need your pussy, sweetheart.” He pulls himself from you and helps you stand.

Dean pushes you onto the bed and reaches under the skirt of your dress to pull off your panties. Once he’s thrown them across the room, he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the end of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You grab the skirt and pull it over your waist, giving him a good view of your dripping pussy.

“Fuck, so perfect, baby girl,” Dean rasps, teasing you by sliding his stiff cock between your soaking folds, coating himself in your slick.

“Dean, please!” you beg, wanting him to stop teasing you.

“You need something, sweetheart?” he smirks, pushing the tip of his cock into you and pulling out again to tap it against your clit.

“I need your cock inside me, Dean. Please!” you beg.

“Alright, baby girl. You ready for me?” he asks, his gaze trained on yours. The second you nod, he pushes in and stretches you perfectly, ripping a low moan from your throat.

“Fuck!” you gasp, your walls fluttering wildly to comfortably accept him.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His concern for you is sweet, making you smile and reach your hand out to grasp one of his.

“Yeah. Forgot how big you are,” you grin, and Dean smirks at your response as he pulls out and pushes back in, a moan now ripping from his throat.

“It shouldn’t be this hot to fuck you in a wedding dress, especially when I’m not the groom,” he growls as he sets a slow and hard pace, slamming into you as hard as he can and pulling out agonisingly slowly.

“Dean!” you whimper, and Dean presses your thighs further into the mattress. You push up, resting on your elbows and watch him pound into you with abandon, moaning as he pushes in and out of your core.

“Fuck, sweetheart, not gonna last. Your pussy feels too fucking good,” Dean growls, his hips speeding up, his eyes fixed - like yours - on him disappearing and reappearing from inside you.

His fingers tease your clit, making you fall over the edge in the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in years. It’s no exaggeration - the last time you felt like this was by Dean’s hands before you broke up.

He slams into you one last time, pushing against your cervix and stills. With a roar, he empties himself inside you, and the feeling is euphoric, sending you into a smaller climax that makes him hiss as your walls squeeze his sensitive cock.

Once he’s caught his breath, Dean pulls himself from your core, and you wince at the loss. You feel his come pour out and watch as he looks down at your abused hole and smirks at the mess he’s left there.

“Y/N?” you hear from the door, and both of your heads snap towards the unexpected voice.

“Matt!” you gasp. “Look, I can explain.” It’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and it’s a lie because how the hell do you even start trying to explain this?

“Don’t,” Matt scoffs. “We haven’t even been married for two hours. You’re still in your wedding dress!”

“I know. I didn’t intend for this to happen, but Dean—”

“Dean?” Matt asks in disbelief. “The Dean that broke your heart? That Dean?”

You gulp and glance at the man in question before looking back at your husband and nodding.

“Why is he even here, Y/N?”

“I invited him,” you mumble weakly.

“You…? Invited… why?” Matt is fuming, and you can feel the rage coming off him in waves, and honestly, you don’t blame him for a second.

“I wanted… no, needed to see him one last time—” Matt’s scoffs cuts you off.

“We’ll, you’ve certainly seen him, haven’t you? And for god’s sake, cover yourself up! I don’t need to be reminded that my wife was unfaithful on our wedding day!”

You quickly pull your skirt down to cover yourself, and the shame you feel is overwhelming.

“Do you still love him?” Matt asks, his tone softening. You gaze towards Dean, wanting to get a read on what he’s feeling. “Don’t look at him; look at me.” You take a deep breath and look at your husband. “Do you still love him?”

“Yes. I never stopped,” you say, telling Matt the truth. After all, he deserves that.

Matt nods sadly, accepting what you’re telling him. “Did you ever love me?” he asks, and your heart breaks to know what you say next will hurt him.

“Yes. I do love you, Matt. I’m just not in love with you. I’m sorry.” Tears slip from your eyes, but you quickly wipe them away.

“That’s what I’ve always been afraid of,” Matt says, a soft smile on his face. “I suppose I should be glad it happened now and not years from now when we’ve made each other miserable. I’ll get annulment papers drawn up. Let you know when they’re ready to be signed.”

Frowning, you glance at Dean, who looks just as confused by the turn of events as you are. Looking back at Matt, you see that despite the tears in his eyes, he’s still smiling softly at you.

“Y/N, when you told me about Dean, I knew you’d never love me the same way. I just hoped I’d be enough to make you happy. But I see now it was naive of me to think I could do that.”

“Matt, I—”

“Take care of her, Dean,” Matt says as he turns and leaves the room, leaving you and Dean dazed and stunned.

“Well, that went surprisingly well,” Dean announces. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, unable to think straight with your wedding ring weighing heavy on your finger and Dean’s seed still dripping down your thighs.

“You wanna get out of here?” Dean asks, crouching before you and placing his hands on your cheeks. “Go out to the cabin and try to figure this out?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile when Dean presses his lips to your forehead.

“Alright, let me grab your things, and we’ll get you out of here.”

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#j3bingo #18+#tw: cheating #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester

263 notes · View notes

littlelesbinonny · 1 month

Text

The Devil's Den

Chapter 45: In Which Quicksand Is Less Than Quick

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

"Don't make it weird."

"What do you mean?"

"Just... don't make it weird."

"Make what weird?!"

Cassandra gave Daniela a look as she sucked her blood cocktail through the glass straw in her tall cup, tilting her head causing the messy bun atop to flop, "when they come out tonight; don't. Make it. Weird."

Daniela narrowed her eyes still leaning on the marble countertop with a near-scowl at her sister, "why do you think I'm going to make it weird? When did I give the inclination I'm going to make it weird?"

"You haven't," Bela added with a sly smile, "you just tend to get excited about stuff. Sometimes weirdly excited."

Daniela pushed herself off the countertop and threw her hands in the air with some exasperation, "is weird my new default adjective? When have I ever made something so weird that you two speak of?"

Cassandra and Bela exchanged glances.

"Dani." The brunette enunciated.

"CUH-SAAAWN-DRUH." Daniela exaggerated back.

"Dude!" Bela hissed, "shhh, they are still sleeping - let it go -" she pointed at them both, then to Cassandra, "don't be a pest," pointing now to Daniela, "just be chill... k?"

Daniela tsked, "I will, god," she huffed leaning back down onto the countertop, "am I like the only one interested in mom's new girlfriend?"

"No, I'm excited to get to know her," Bela replied, "this one is clearly not going anywhere and I, for one, am happy for mother. She will more than likely be a big part of our lives now, at least, if she isn't ready to run from her first introduction to our world." She giggled.

"Yeah, Mother Miranda certainly gave her a dramatic welcoming, if you can call it that. Not sure how I'd feel getting sucked into a war that had nothing to do with me, then have to kill said person who sucked me in, tried to kill me, and then... yeah wow, what the fuck, that poor girl is probably traumatized as shit."

With a large dramatic sigh Cassandra pulled her other knee up to her chest on the bar stool and put her glass down on the counter, tugging at her oversized forest green zip-up hoodie back around her angled shoulder, "most likely, and with what they both went through the last three days I'll actually be a little surprised if they make it out of the bedroom tonight." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully at her sisters.

"Ew. Gross. Why."

"Oooo, so they didn't do any of the nasty last night?" Cass grinned at the redhead, "I figured with your bedroom being the closest you'd have - "

"Oh! My fuck!" Daniela spat, "No! I didn't hear anything. That's the last thing I'd ever be listening for, Jesus."

Cassandra cackled and Bela shook her head.

Waking up to Alcina like this was a whole new sort of feeling.

You were in her bed, in her home, in the underworld, safe under her watch and care.

Some sort of twisted invigoration spurred through you, and with that sleep drunk smile on your face you nuzzled back into her with a sigh of contentment. This really felt like home.

"Mmm," Alcina hummed sleepily herself, "my mighty warrior, awake..." she grinned with her eyes still closed as she wrapped her arms about you tightly, brushing her lips over the top of your head nestled under her chin, "have you slept well?"

Nodding mutely, you took a deep breath and sighed, "you?"

She hummed low in her chest and it rattled lusciously against your cheek.

"When you are in my arms, the dead have nothing on me."

You chuckled, still very groggy, "I give the term sleeping like the dead new meaning, huh?"

"Definitely new and improved."

Pressing your face further under her neck, you relished how relaxed and comfortable you were, knowing if you were to stay here for much longer you'd likely pass back out. It didn't sound like too bad of an idea, really. Before you'd both climbed into bed, you were worried about getting back to your life above ground; stressing over what kind of mess you would be facing to clean up. Now, in the bliss of this, you were on the brink of forgetting it all.

"What time is it?" you eventually uttered begrudgingly against yourself.

Alcina, just as procrastinating as you, lazily looked to the golden clock on the far wall in the dim light and squinted, "it appears to be midnight."

"Dammit all," you mumbled, "I don't want to go."

"So don't," Alcina replied softly, "stay. You needn't leave for any reason unless you just want to."

Again you sighed and closed your eyes, "just up and leave my life like aliens abducted me?"

"Why not?"

A stupidly completely valid point. So valid you couldn't, or maybe perhaps didn't want to, counter it with reason. Were you really going to go back to your job? Your desk prison? What was left up there in the human world aside from Malka? Nothing would ever be the same now.

"Listen, you're taking advantage of my sleepy state and making too much sense. I've at least got to go get my plants and clothes."

Alcina chuckled deliciously and rolled you over, peppering you with slow sweet kisses everywhere, "draga mea, I can't help but indulge my selfishness," her nose nuzzled your earlobe, "I promised to take you home, and so I shall, as much as I'd like to keep you here. Decisions can be made later, if you must keep me pining."

"Well I certainly don't want to be the cause of you pining."

"Oh," she moaned, "but you're sooo good at it dragoste."

You both giggled and gave into the last few minutes of unbothered happiness before finally rising and getting ready. Well, Alcina got ready, you made a half-effort attempt at just making yourself presentable to make it out of the underground and to your apartment.

Though, you did get to watch your lady of the night dress and put on her makeup, and that was a treat that made the choice of choosing to live down here so much more tempting.

She was meticulous but fast in all her application. Now whether that was from your necessity to get home or just how she did this every night you weren't sure, but the woman had you captivated in the simple tasks and you blushed without regret when she caught you studying her in the mirror.

Alcina smirked through her last swipe of red lipstick and hummed, "see something you like?"

Her voice was cool and tinted with the bedroom tone that made you all but swoon, and you shook your head through a nasally huff, "only everything," you smiled.

Rising from the vanity bench, you took your bottom lip between your teeth as she stood before you now fully prepared to take on the night. She wore a pair of loose black pleated pants, much like the ones she'd taken Mother Miranda down in, looking flawless as she did, and a maroon chiffon blouse that was tucked into said trousers with a simple yet elegant black belt with a gold buckle cinched around her waist. If the underworld had a Miranda Priestley, Alcina would be it. She looked like an unintended seductress; too regal, too beautiful, to not be completely dangerous.

Alcina smirked and sauntered over to you perched on the chez lounge, leaned down and took your chin into her grasp, "you make this too easy." She sighed as she kissed you through a smile.

"What?" You inquired as you caught her glimmering grey hues.

"Adoring you."

Her daughters were in the kitchen as you two were leaving, and it seemed they were even more awkward about the whole thing than you were, at least in Daniela's case. She knocked over her wine glass on the attempt to straighten her posture and address you and her mother as you passed. Alcina merely rolled her eyes as she went to grab her trench coat.

"I shall return shortly, girls." She stated, trying to hide her amused grin.

Tangled 'ok's' and 'mhm's' were muttered in response. Cassandra and Bela gave you kind nods and small smiles. Daniela gave a weak, unsure kind of wave of her hand and more of a toothy grin, and then Alcina was tugging you by the arm out of the manor.

You did not ask for clarification on that situation.

Meanwhile, not moments after the door had latched, Cassandra grinned smartly.

"Told you you were going to make it weird."

"Oh shut up!"

Bela with a huff and loud eyeroll, she removed herself from the counter, leaving her sisters there to do as they may and headed upstairs to the turret.

Now that you were able to really take in your surroundings, the underworld city of vampires and lycans was seriously impressive. The cavern in which this place was so intricately built made you genuinely question what else about life was hidden under human noses. To think that an entire city hid under the bustling state that was New York made you feel childlike in the wonder of it all; a world within a world that no one knew about. You loved it. It was so beautiful, so terrifying, and so meticulously kept. There was no trash to be found in any corner, nothing broken, or run-down, no stains on the cobblestone or cracks in the sidewalks, let alone the buildings that still looked brand new aside from their ole world architecture. And, there was no vegetation either you realized. The street lamps were bright, and the buildings emitted light of their own from windows, but there was no natural occurring light down here at all. It was a little claustrophobic at first, but overall it was a wonderous sight.

As the two of you walked, you noticed it was rather empty and quiet. Either everyone was still slumbering or they were out in the city feeding or doing whatever it is vampires and lycans do. Eventually you did pass a couple vampires as you got closer to the edge of the city; their glances were long yet attempted to be understated as they eyed you, but shallow bows were offered in silence as Alcina lead you on.

She held your arm on hers proudly without any noticeable disturbance from how they gazed at the two of you. You smiled. That aura of pure prowess of hers emanated at great length.

Getting out of the underground was even more intriguing to you since you'd been unconscious when Miranda's heathens brought you here. The tunnels were pitch black in some areas as you went and you held just a little tighter to Alcina's arm. You couldn't see it but you were pretty sure she was smirking stoutly at your literal blind trust.

As light began to syphon slowly down the current corridor you walked, your eyes adjusted accordingly and your grip loosened, and before long you were coming up several sets of stairs and into the belly of a church. This must be St. Patrick's. The events that took place last time you were here set off the tumbling of dominoes that oddly enough lead you to this very moment. You wondered how that situation had been handled and if -

"What in Gods name has been happening?!"

A voice halted you and Alcina with a jerk.

Alcina didn't miss a beat.

"Ah, and good evening to you as well, Father."

A disheveled looking priest was now in front of the both of you, his wide bloodshot eyes and tired expression trying to hide under the facade of, well, several expressions. You recognized him from before and he looked even worse for wear than last time.

"What has happened?!" The father asked again, throwing his gaze between the two of you, finally setting to staring at Alcina as though he was parched, "I've had to shut the church down for two days! The - the - those things! Hundreds of them! Came barreling through here! And the rumbling and - and - explosions? Th-the sounds coming up from the tunnels! I've not had any sleep - I haven't left - I sent everyone home - I -"

"Father," Alcina said, halting his rambling and heavy breath, "rest assured, everything has been handled."

His face went blank before erupting into another twisted grimace, "what does everything mean!?"

Alcina, in a most uncharacteristic fashion, placed her palm on the priests shoulder and squeezed it softly, "you will give yourself a heart attack if you do not relax," she mused, tilting her chin upwards slightly before taking another paused breath, eying him intently, "the everything of which I speak is that very threat we all faced. The ones who mauled and killed your deacon? Well, they have been neutralized. It's over, Father."

Watching the worry and tension melt off of him was nearly comical. You weren't sure if he was going to collapse to the floor by the news and you glanced up carefully to Alcina who looked all the more pillar-like as she seemed to hold this man together somehow.

"Oh..." the word fluttered from his parted lips, "I... that is... that is wonderful news," he sighed and dropped his gaze most heavily, "I feared the worst... the silence over the last several hours has had me on edge - I - I assumed those... white-eyed creatures would emerge from the underground again and it would be over."

Straightening her spine, Alcina cocked an eyebrow, "Father Sullivan," she uttered slyly, though you could hear the hint of playfulness, "that might be the most hurtful thing you've ever said to me."

You watched as the horror and worry returned to his face as he peered to Alcina with his jaw dropped again in the need to defend himself.

Alcina grinned most eagerly, "to think we, and I, have defended this world and your church for so long, and you assume some fancy-fangled new breed of vampire could swoop in and take us down?" She placed both hands on her hips and huffed, "I must say I'm a little disappointed in you."

Her wink finally lessened the leash of his fear again.

He started to laugh, taking his quivering hands and running them along his weathered cheeks with a smile emerging, "I doubt I will ever be able to fully follow your wicked calm and sense of humor, Lady Dimitrescu, but I am grateful to you, as I always have been, despite our differences and disagreements."

"Think nothing of it, Father. Relax. As I have told you many, many times in the past, you are far too uptight for your own good. Everything is under control. You are safe, your priests and deacons are safe, your church is safe. And now, I really must be getting this lovely lady home." She smiled over at you.

"Oh, oh yes," he sputtered and swallowed, nodding at you with a weak smile, "forgive me, how rude I have been," he outstretched his hand for you to shake, "I am Father Sullivan... and you are?"

You took his hand but before you could reply, Alcina was introducing you for you, proudly.

"And she is half the reason for the armies defeat and that we are all safe... she is to pass freely in and out of your church without question."

Father Sullivan nodded, "yes, of course. You may come and go as you please. The side door where Alcina will lead you is always unlocked for her kind, you may use it the same."

Alcina smiled once more before taking your arm in hers, "thank you, Father. Now go home and rest. I will visit you soon to discuss matters."

You could tell he was far too exhausted to say anything else. He folded his hands in front of him, bowed his head graciously, and then you parted ways.

Your apartment looked very much the same as you left it. But the notifications on your phone were anxiety inducing.

16 missed calls and 4 voicemails. Work, Malka, and your co-worker Blair. Oh boy.

While you were looking through your texts and listening to your voicemails, Alcina was checking to make sure all locks on your windows and doors were still operational and nothing was broken from your kidnapping. Perhaps the best of news was that everything seemed fine.

She turned to you as you sighed heavily while leaning against your kitchen counter, plopping your phone onto the surface while rubbing your face with aggravation.

"That bad?" she asked resting her hand on your shoulder, eyeing you sincerely.

"It's not so much bad, it's just chaotic," you mumbled, finally locking eyes with her, "everyone is freaking out that I've vanished. I've been gone two days, going on three. Blair said my boss is reaching out to authorities, soooo I've gotta come up with some kind of story as to where I've been, and dear god I do not want to deal with police. I have no idea what I'm going to tell everyone. And then there's Malka who is worried as hell, especially since she... erm, well, knows about you and what's kinda been going on. I texted her first and told her to call me when she wakes up."

Alcina narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, trailing her hand down your back while leaning on the counter next to you, "let me worry about the police," she instructed, "I'll deal with that if your employer has contacted them."

You tossed your eyes to her with confusion, "how?"

"Draga mea, you forget already how far my reach is?" She smirked, "the deep city officials and our kind have worked together for over a century, remember? Who do you think has to play clean-up whenever a vampire or lycan gets out of line and causes a disturbance? Don't worry about them, I will take care of it for you."

Shaking your head with a bit of relief, you chuckled at her, "you never fail to blow my mind."

"A cherished pastime," Alcina smiled brighter, grabbing for your hands and holding them to her lips, "now, about your story."

Staring with a sigh, you shrugged your shoulders, "I'm drawing a blank. I'm a shit tier liar."

"Mmm... perhaps you were struck by a vehicle in a crosswalk and have been in the hospital. You of course asked said hospital to call your work, but we all know the incompetence of the medical profession from time to time, so the call was never made, therefore it isn't your fault you've been "missing", but you are mending and will likely need... two, three weeks off work to recover?"

Her twinkling eyes and greedy smile made you giggle, not to mention the decently detailed story fabrication.

"Have you been concocting this for a while?" You chuckled.

Alcina grinned, "the walk may have given way to some inspiration."

"And I'm sure the two to three week recovery period has everything to do with my injury and not your ploy to spend more time with me, right?"

"What an insinuation!" Alcina pursed her lips, "of course it has to do with your injuries. You may have a horrible concussion, draga! Perhaps whiplash, broken bones even? The possibilities of such an accident really are endless... you may even need a month to fully recover, but I must speak to your doctor to be sure."

You were fully laughing now, "and who might my doctor be, ma'am?"

"Well that would be the Attending Physician Dr. Beneviento; Donna Beneviento, draga mea - we've known each other for many years, you know. She's brilliantly smart, one hell of a physician."

Her unwavering smile made the majority of your worry dissipate as the story did hold merit if it could be pulled off.

"So what, you give Donna a call; give her the details; she works her magic, and poof - I have a doctors note?"

Alcina nodded, "that's about it, yes. Just say the word and it is done."

"Well, this makes more sense than anything I could probably come up with. I guess it's a couple week long recouperation for me under your, erm, Dr. Benevientos' watchful care, huh?"

"Mm yes, I think so."

"Good," you said as a twinkling of mischief appeared in your own yes, "that'll give me plenty of time to get my shit in order and for you and Malka to meet."

The sharp turn that sentence gave Alcina played out perfectly and you were fighting your urge to laugh. Watching her struggle with the glee that you were free for several weeks to a very clear 'damn you' was everything you needed right now.

Draping your arms over her shoulders you kissed her cheek over and over, "I think it's cute."

"Mmm?" She hummed, securing her hands on your lower back.

"Your jealousy."

'"I am not jealous," Alcina replied all to quickly, looking at your smirking face inches from her, desperately trying to believe her own lie, "I am simply protective."

It was your turn to raise your eyebrow, "well then meeting her should put all of that at ease."

Doing all she could not to roll her eyes, Alcina narrowed them and pulled you tightly against her, kissing your lips light and tender, "if it pleases you, draga mea... I shall."

"It would please me greatly."

"Fine."

Kissing her through another smile you sighed once more, feeling like there was some control back in your grasp.

Alcina returned the smirk, but hesitated to let go of you, "I suppose this means I need to get back to the underworld and speak with Donna," she sighed, "my life is going to be very interesting over the next few weeks... will you be staying here?"

You tilted your head in contemplation briefly, "maybe I should until it mellows out down there?"

"Your presence will more than likely be demanded when the clan leaders show up in groves."

Your eyes bugged, "I have to meet more leaders? Didn't I already do that?"

"Only the local branches of my area, the rest will undoubtedly be on their way as the news of Mother Miranda's death reaches far and wide. Remember, there are nine clans."

Your head spun for a second, "wait, I thought the council members that I met were those leaders?"

"Mm, no draga, those are the local heads of this particular section of the underworld; vampire and lycan. The ones I speak of are like me; matriarchs and patriarchs of their own cities."

"Oh god," you dropped your head, "I dunno if I'm cut out for vampire politics."

Alcina chuckled brightly, "you aren't being put on trial dragoste, that will be for Ethan and Mia. You will simply be a local celebrity, as it were. You helped me take down one of the oldest and most infamous of our kind... that in itself, outside the fact you are a mysterious creature yourself, will have curious admirers dying to meet you."

Your visage flattened, "a terrible, terrible pun."

She kissed the tip of your nose, "if I must meet Malka -"

"That is COMPLETELY diff - "

Alcina placed a long slender finger to your lips and smiled, "you'll be wonderful and well received, I promise you."

The scowl you bore weakened and you huffed once more through her immobilizing beauty, "Un. Fair. You forget I'm just a boring tiny human in a big world of beautiful vampires and fearsome lycans. I'm not used to the glamourous, big to-do's you all... do, or whatever."

"Dragoste," she cooed, "you are not human, and the life you have lived has not been kind nor nurturing of you and your power. You - are a mighty Fae - and the world in which I govern is more for you than I think you might realize. Give it a chance. Believe me, it is not all grandeur and glory. But being with those more of your calibre might suit you."

You considered her words. Maybe she was right.

Maybe.

"It's still scary," you admitted, "I feel like a flopping fish out of water in pretty much every aspect of my life right now... I haven't had a lot of time to really digest it and... it's pretty surreal. Everything has happened so fast. I was like, normal last spring, before I met you," you teased, "then I find out vampires are real. I fall in love with you. I start to change and have no idea what's happening. Malka tells me I'm magickal - then all of a sudden my powers show up - THEN mutant vampires attack your city, we take on a deranged vampire and kill her, aaaand now life is supposed to... what, go back to normal? What the fuck even is normal now?"

Her smile was soft as she caressed the side of your face, "I understand. You're right, what is normal? But you have me. And... Malka, and Donna, and even Karl, Angie, and anyone else you choose to confide in - you won't be alone in the journey, draga mea. I am with you the whole way."

The surrealness really was setting in now that you'd said it out loud. Grasping it was harder than holding sand.

You plopped your head into Alcina's chest and held her tight, "thank you... It feels so strange."

Alcina understood the conundrum well. She too had her whole life flipped upside-down. From one moment dying in bed, to a choice that gave her immortality. How does one not go mad at the thought?

"If it is any consolation, you aren't strange. You are simply walking a very unique path now," she squeezed you firmly, "a whole new world and life is at your fingertips."

While it felt like a blip of an eternity had gone by standing in your kitchen embraced by your vampire in silence, you pulled back and looked at her, "so... what now?"

"As I said earlier, I need to get back to speak with Donna to get your work off your back. Then find out what knots in the city need untangled, deal with the mutant problem, see the hidden underground where Miranda was hiding all this time with said mutants, and meet with the clan leaders as they show up. There will also be a very interesting trial for Miranda's little nuisance minions; Mia and Ethan."

Her wicked glimmer of a smile said without words she couldn't wait for that.

Once more Alcina traced her finger over the side of your face, "if I don't see you until then, I will be here tomorrow night." She then eyed you firmly, "what do you need from me until then, draga mea?"

"Nothing, you've got it under control babe. I'll wait patiently for my Queen of the Underworld to return to me."

She scoffed, but smiled, "more power was everything I didn't want, and now look at me."

"I think it's kinda hot."

"You would," she shook her head, cupping your face, "and indulging you is hard to resist."

Upon reentering the underground, Alcina reached into her trench coat pocket and retrieved her small brass cigarette case; plucked one from the lip and lit it with a similar lighter as she walked, eyeing her surroundings with a new sensation.

This was all hers now. Untampered. Without an absent thumb pressing down upon her any longer.

She would reign over her people with more understanding and openness than ever before. Her hands would no longer be tied by a tyrant who wanted her to bake her a cake with half the ingredients. These were her people, all of them, and she would do all she could to be the leader they all deserved and more; not for her vanity, but for the good of their livelihood and the future that was inevitable. Her role didn't seem so cumbersome anymore. Somehow, in the dramatic events that had occurred, she felt sturdy and honored with her title. The once looming threat of her silent, lurking enemies seemed far from her now. She didn't feel the poisonous glances she'd experienced for the last several decades, no, she felt no lingering trace of danger at all. She'd made her stake. Her claim. A bloody, deadly demand for respect that would echo for centuries to come. If one were to be so bold to challenge her now, somewhere in the depths of her soul she felt no qualms with fear or hesitance. Why that was she may never know, but it felt good either way.

Change would come, and she would meet and forge it. And she wanted you by her side through it. If it were at all possible.

Turning down the cobblestone towards City Hall in her quest to find Donna, Alcina heard commotion as she approached the inner city. She came to find several groups of vampire and lycan alike, huddled and gathered around large amounts of stone and construction gear, blueprints being passed and scoured over, and sounds of work being executed further off down another street. Repairs were already underway; she loved how quickly things were happening.

Almost on cue as she thought about who was responsible for such promptness, Dmitri, Mitch and Sylvia came out of City Hall conversing amongst themselves, handing off more papers and orders to workers and continued on with their task. She stopped and stood to admire the scene, but as her eyes moved around something different about City Hall caught her eye.

Narrowing her vision as she looked up the facade of the grand building, there above the large stone entrance was a bloodied, mangled mess of long blonde hair tacked just above the towering double doors.

Alcina took a very long drawn out drag as she studied it.

"I see you've found Angie's handiwork," Donna stated unamused as she approached her friend from behind, coming to stop at her side and look as well.

Without a breath of an expression on her face aside from her narrowed eyes, Alcina let the smoke blow from her red lips as she tapped the ash from the tip of her cigarette onto the stone at her feet.

Donna wasn't sure if she should panic, "I can have it removed immediat -"

"No," Alcina cut her off, a smirk tugging now at her lips, "leave it," she looked over to Donna taking a shorter puff, "but at least confirm the rest of her body, whatever might be left after your vulture of a sister, and no doubt Heisenberg took from it, made it to the sun tower?"

Unable to hide her own smile, Donna nodded but didn't get to answer.

"I can confirm that on behalf of Miss Beneviento," Dmitri offered approaching the women, tucking his long white hair behind an ear, "that tower was sealed over an hour ago with my supervision. Miranda's jaw remains in Karl's possession, I'm not entirely sure what Angie took, but the skull fragment," he motioned to the hall, "is all that's left otherwise. Not my choice of decoration, but, it does make a suitable statement." Alcina shook her head and tongued her teeth, "I suppose there is no subtlety about her death. Perhaps it's a statement that needs made... I'm sure the clan leaders well let me know." She smiled.

"Yes, and speaking of that," Donna began, "Marguerite will be here by the end of the night. I've received word from a few others, but I assume in no more than three days time, all clan leaders will be accounted for. The council will adjourn to address the happenings and I've been busy gathering all intel for it. I sent Mateo with several of Karl's military to Miranda's manor in Connecticut, and Dmitri has several of his people working with Salvatore in the secret lair Miranda built here collecting whatever we can."

"Ah, yes," Alcina remarked, "I would like to see this place as soon as it is feasible."

"I can take you whenever you are ready." Dmitri affirmed with a nod.

"Excellent, but first I must speak with Donna." Alcina said grasping her arm softly, "Dmitri, may I meet you here in half an hour?"

He nodded graciously and the two women set off inside City Hall.

The half hour that was spent inside the disheveled council room seemed to take much shorter than Alcina realized. Donna was happily running 100 miles an hour to get your needs in order. She was carrying the cell phone Angie had hidden in the house and used it to contact her and explain her duty in the workings for your cover. Alcina proclaimed she was judging her quite harshly, as she knew if her daughters found out she'd never hear the end of it. Donna simply shrugged and begrudgingly admitted cell phones were handier than she cared to admit. But they finalized and mobilized to get you taken care of and Alcina was then seeking out Dmitri.

Miranda's hideout was quiet literally next door to them. In the furthest reaches of abandoned tunnels at the North end of the city, hidden behind a faux wall, lay one entrance to her lair. It was a ridiculously obvious choice to make as she normally came from the North East tunnels from her Connecticut abode. But, no one had any reason to go looking or snooping, though the agitation remained for Alcina that this had all been done right under their noses.

There was a steep drop to a long set of winding stone stairs that lead to the belly of the cavern. The ceiling was no where near as tall as the city's, and it felt cramped for all things considered. But it was large. Easily half the size of Alcina's city. Which made for a nice fit for her army that were standing about mindless, unmoved, and vacant of all light behind their eyes under the watch of several of Dmitri's soldiers.

Alcina couldn't help but seem a semblance of sorrow for them as she walked through, following Dmitri to what she assumed to be an important area of this whole debacle.

Through the vast, dim, elongated cavern, they came to an area to the right that had a single red door that was halfway open. As they approached, Dmitri motioned for Alcina and ushered her in.

This room looked nothing like the rest of this place.

Clearly this was Miranda's chambers. The walls were covered in papers with notes, maps, and pictures. The myriad of tables and benches were filled with similar paperwork. Off in the far corner was a bed well made, a small vanity, and a wardrobe with several articles of clothing. Alcina gritted her teeth briefly before Dmitri approached her with a leather back journal.

"We've found countless, heavily detailed, hand-written documentation of Mother Miranda's escapades down here... this is one of her personal diaries. I thought you may want to look it over," he said handing it to her.

Taking it slowly from him she peered down and began to flip through the article. Her handwriting was very clean for cursive, and Alcina mused only a little on the words as Dmitri continued.

"I've not gathered this room up entirely as I wanted you to see it."

"Have you given your people any time to rest, or did you begin this immediately after my command to go and rest?" She smirked with a knowing gaze.

Dmitri bowed his head shallowly with a smile, "you know me far too well to know that I sit by idly when things need done. These matters needed attending to. I won't deny my gnashing curiosity for Miranda's activities lead me on to find answers. I feel we're scratching the surface at best; the piles and stacks of... all of this has been extensive. And, there's many more where that came from, but the journal you hold is the most recent. The more we dug, we found some dating back nearly twenty years."

"Twenty years?" Alcina repeated looking up from the pages with disbelief.

Dmitri nodded, "this has been in the works for a very long time, it seems. Though, this is not the worst of it."

"I would assume not. What else have you discovered?"

"An experimentation room."

Those three words made her stomach churn.

"Show me."

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #alcina dimitrescu/reader #lesbian #f/f #fanfic #wlw #donna beneviento #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu

72 notes · View notes

withacapitalp · 1 year

Text

Little Bird, Little Bird, Fly Through My Window

Read it on ao3 instead!

Robin’s mom calls her every Thursday at exactly 7:30 pm.

When she and Steve moved to New York so she could go to school, her parents initially pitched a fit about it. Moving 12 hours away, to the biggest city in the world, with a man she didn’t have any plans to marry?

Yeah, that certainly led to a few raised voices in the Buckley household.

But, once they got over the initial shock, her parents had come around to the idea. She was an adult, so they couldn’t stop her if she really wanted to, and Steve could charm birds off the trees with the right smile and sweet words. When she had finally convinced them that Steve was honestly just her best friend- no they weren’t sleeping together, no they weren’t secretly dating- they had agreed to support her. With a few conditions of course.

One: Don’t get pregnant.

Robin was pretty sure she would be able to avoid that one

Two: No going out at night without Steve.

Yes, they were still a little suspicious of whatever was going on there, but no one would bother her if he was walking next to her. That was fine, she didn’t really like to go anywhere without Steve anyway, that was the whole point of him leaving Hawkins with her.

Three: Her mother was going to call their apartment every Thursday at 7:30 pm, and Robin better answer the phone every single time.

That was the most annoying one.

Her mom just liked to talk so much. Olivia Buckely was a born and bred Midwesterner, and Robin had never had a phone call with her that didn’t last for at least two and a half hours. She always felt the need to update her daughter on every single member of their family, each neighbor, and all of her coworkers. What they had done, what they hadn’t done, who they were seeing, who they weren’t seeing anymore...all of it.

Robin couldn’t have cared less about any of that, but her mom still held her hostage anyway.

In all honesty, it was a small thing to have to fit in. She and Steve had settled quickly into their new life, and they had made a ritual for Thursday nights to deal with the annoyance of the phone.

They would come home from their jobs or their schools, and Steve would make Robin whatever she wanted for dinner. It didn’t matter how elaborate or how silly, he would make it. Once she had requested only a chocolate cake, just to see what he would do. An hour and a half later he presented her with a two layered masterpiece complete with birthday candles, just for shits and giggles.

They would eat dinner together on their lumpy little sofa, plates balanced precariously in their laps as they watched a movie on their tiny little box TV. Then, when the phone inevitably rang at 7:30 on the dot, Steve would take both of their plates and go do the dishes, coming back to the living room afterward to do whatever while Robin stood by the phone and slowly lost her mind.

Then, afterward, they would get rip roaring drunk.

It worked for them. It was annoying, but it worked for them.

It was on one of those Thursdays that Robin got the biggest shock of her life.

“Joanie called by the way. That woman who just married your Uncle Mitchell? I swear, I don’t know how he continues to get women to fall for him, he’s been married three times already. She’s a nice girl though, so I hope they make it, but she did bring along two kids of her own, so who knows?” Her mother prattled on, uncaring of the fact that her daughter was going to jump out their fifth story window if she had to hear much more of this.

Robin hummed to show her mom she was still listening, turning around to face Steve and miming putting a gun to her head.

He smirked at her and pushed up his glasses, lowering his gaze back down to the textbook in his lap. He had a test in one of his education classes tomorrow, and he was still studying. It was on Blooms….Bloom’s….

Bloom’s Whatever. It had to do with how kids learned, Robin knew that much. She had been helping him study for the last five days, but none of it really stuck in her head. It was weird, this was the first time that he really understood something that she couldn’t comprehend.

Oh well. It was stuck in Steve’s head, that was all that mattered.

“-plays baseball or something. And the older one is just a little bit younger than you, actually. Apparently, it was a teen pregnancy, a very big deal. Her parents disowned her, can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t,” Robin lied, not really sure who she was in disbelief for. Was this still about Mitch’s new wife, Jane?

Regardless of who, Robin could easily believe in someone’s parents disowning them when they found out something they didn’t like.

She could very easily believe that.

“Well, he is a very nice boy, Robin, a good addition to the family. You’ll like him, they’ll all be here when you come home for the holidays. He might even bring his boyfriend too. Oh, and please get me the times for your flights, honey. Your father wants to take off work so he can pick you two up,” Olivia said, her tone etching into impatience.

Robin opened her mouth to complain about her mom nagging her again about flights that weren’t happening for almost a whole month, but then her words finally registered in Robin’s brain.

Boyfriend. His boyfriend.

Her mom had just casually used the words ‘his boyfriend’.

“I’m sorry?” Robin said, her voice slightly strangled.

She must have misheard her, or the phone was malfunctioning. Somewhere along the 750 miles of line, it had to have cut out or warped the words, because there was no way in hell her extremely religious mother had just used the words ‘his’ and ‘boyfriend’ together in a sentence without bursting into flame.

“Your flights! Darling, I’ve asked you about this a thousand times. Put Steve on the phone, he’ll help me. I know I wasn’t sure about you moving out to that big city all alone with that boy, but honestly, now I thank my lucky stars that you have him. At least someone there would be able to find their head if it wasn’t attached!” Her mother teased.

Normally this was where Robin would get snarky, call her mom out for being just as forgetful as her. She couldn’t this time, she was too focused on the fact that all of the air seemed to have left the room in an instant, and her body had become mysteriously hollow.

“I wasn’t- his boyfriend?” Robin repeated, needing some kind of clarification. Steve, who had been happily eavesdropping on Robin’s side of the call the entire time, slowly put his book on the table, watching Robin with a worried look.

Olivia, who didn’t seem to have noticed the shift in her daughter’s mood, continued to gossip.

“Yes. Mitchell’s new wife Joanie? She brought her sons with her to Thanksgiving. Eric is the younger boy and Kyle is the older one. He brought his boyfriend Derek, who is a lovely young man by the way! He’s in school in Chicago studying finance, that’s where they met. He reminds me a lot of Steve actually. He has this thing he does with children, some sort of outreach? He was telling me-

“Mom,” Robin cut in, hard and fast. That was sometimes the only way to get a word in when it came to her mother, and Robin needed that word.

She wanted to ask a thousand questions, she had a hundred different things running through her brain.

She couldn’t find a single word.

“Robin? What’s wrong, little bird?” Her mother asked in a careful loving tone, using her childhood nickname.

Robin leaned back, her knees knocking together as she shook, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. Steve got up from the couch, crossing the room in just a few steps and coming to sit by her side. Without a word he held out his hand, and she grabbed it with her free one, squeezing too tight. A rush of love for her best friend swept through her, and Robin squeezed his hand again.

Steve always just knew what she needed, and Robin had no idea how she had lived seventeen years of her life without him.

“You don’t- I mean you-” Robin cut herself off, lowering her voice to a whisper of complete bafflement, “You don’t mind?”

“Don’t mind what, my love?” Her mother asked, perplexed.

Robin smothered down a laugh, completely baffled. In the past four years she had lived through actual monster attacks and the literal apocalypse, but this was the most unbelievable thing that had ever happened to her.

“That he has a boyfriend?” Robin clarified, pulling her hand away from Steve for a second to run her fingers anxiously through her hair, before latching onto him again, “You don’t mind that Kasey, Kyle, whoever, has a boyfriend?”

“Oooooooh!” Her mother said, finally putting the dots together, “Well, it’s a little unconventional, but the boy is very nice. Both of them are!”

Very nice. Her mother, who literally carried a pocket bible in her purse at all times, just called a gay boy and his partner ‘very nice’.

Briefly Robin considered that she might’ve died in the Upside Down a year ago. There was no way this was reality.

“I didn’t think you had a problem with gay people,” Her mother commented after the silence had gone on for a touch too long.

“I don’t,” Robin quickly said, searching for an explanation that wasn’t ‘I’m a gay people’, “I just, I didn’t know you didn’t.”

“Of course I don’t! Have I ever said I did?” Her mother asked, sounding worried.

She didn’t need to say it. The endless crosses all around their house said it. The constant bible verses said it. The Reagan yard sign said it. The pastor at their church who said AIDS was God’s Will said it. All of those things spoke louder than words ever could.

But Robin had no idea how to explain that.

“You go to church every week!” She finally sputtered out, as if that was enough.

“And?”

“You quote the bible at me constantly!” Robin protested, her voice raising.

Steve’s hand slid out of hers, and he wrapped around her shoulders, rubbing up and down on the top of her arm soothingly. It didn’t do much, but it was enough to make her let go of the emotions starting to ramp up.

“I mean, c’mon mom,” She said softly, letting her heart open up that same painful wound she had carried all her life, “What was I supposed to think?”

“Well let me quote you some more bible then, dear, because you’re clearly missing the most important thing,” Her mother said, and Robin could hear the fluttering pages in her mind as Olivia looked for exactly what she wanted to say. When she found it she gave a quiet exclamation before clearing her throat, the way she always did when she wanted to ‘speak the good word’

“John 4:7 Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.”

Robin’s mother had been quoting scripture at her her entire life. On her good days, Robin was able to just roll her eyes and politely smile and nod along. On her bad days…well there had been a lot of bad days. Never once had she felt comforted by anything in the bible.

Well, never before this moment.

Robin bit at her trembling lip, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Steve’s forehead gently knocked against the side of her head, and she leaned into him, keeping a death grip on the receiver as her mother stayed quiet on the other side of the line.

“I- I’m-” Robin stopped herself. The quiet stretched out into a thin tense thing, until her mother’s voice rang out again.

“Robin, darling, I would never hate someone for what they were born as. Kyle didn’t choose to be born a homosexual, the lord made him that way,” Robin scoffed as her mother quoted gay anthems back at her. Her mom paused again, then spoke even quieter, “My most important commandment from Jesus is to love him, exactly as he is.”

“And you...don’t think it’s a sin?”

Because that’s the thing that really scared her.

Sure, Robin had always worried about the big reaction- the yelling, the hatred, her parents telling her they never wanted to see her again, but that wasn’t what kept her up at night. But there fear that kept her from taking the leap. There was a reason Steve was the first person to know instead of her own mother.

Robin was afraid her mother would love her anyway.

Olivia would smile, and brush her hair back, and promise to love Robin anyway. In spite of the fact that she was a lesbian, in spite of the undeniable fact that her daughter was going to go to hell. She was scared her father would pretend that he accepted it, and behind the closed doors, they would be disappointed. Her parents loved her, and she was terrified that they would continue to love her anyway.

Robin wouldn’t be able to handle that. She could stand being hated, but being loved with a new asterisk attached would kill her.

“It’s not on me to decide what sin is, or to judge someone even if I believe I see one. Don’t forget the story of the adultress,” Her mother said instead of answering the question.

“But do you think it is a sin?” Robin pressed, needing the answer now that she had finally asked the question, "Do you think it is sinful for him to like boys?"

“No, I don’t. All he did was fall in love,” Olivia stated. As if it was that simple.

As if Robin had never had a thing to worry about. All that pain, all that self-loathing, all those nights she cried herself to sleep, all of it was completely unnecessary.

Robin’s mind raced, trying to find any way to make this make sense with what she had known all her life. Maybe it was different if it was your own kid. Sure, it might be easy to accept some random new wife’s gay son, but her very own daughter? Her mother surely would have a different reaction then, right?

Right?

She had stayed quiet too long again. Her mother spoke up once more.

“Sweetheart…I love you very much. You know I love you more than anything,” She started slowly, and Robin’s breath caught in her throat. This was it. It was time. Her secret was up.

“But if I have raised you to think that it is alright to condemn someone because of something out of their control, then I have to tell you that I disagree. Wholeheartedly.”

Robin laughed.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed, and leaned into Steve’s side, and let her tears flow. She laughed for a long time, far longer than she should have, and her mom stayed silent the entire time, listening to her reaction.

“No, mom. That’s, that’s not it,” Robin finally managed to choke out. Her breath was still hitching, and her shoulders were still shaking, even though the laughter had died away.

Another long pause.

Another frighteningly long pause. Robin didn’t dare to speak first.

“You know, your father and I talked for a long time about your plans to go to New York,” Her mother finally said, clearly starting down the long winding path of a story. Robin curled up in her soulmate’s arms and let the phone receiver sit nestled between them both.

“You were awful insistent about going with Steve. You kept swearing up and down that you weren’t dating. I’ll be honest, we didn’t believe you at first,”

Yeah, they both already knew that. Her parents had been eagle eyed, intensely analyzing every interaction the two of them had in the weeks leading up to their move.

“But then we saw you two together. Yes, you were very familiar, and we know that Steve came and slept in your room after you two thought we were asleep, but it was clear there was no romance between you two at all. Not exactly like brother and sister, but not boyfriend and girlfriend. that much was obvious. Which got me wondering...why exactly the two of you would move together. If it wasn’t love, what was it?”

It was love. It was the purest love Robin had ever felt for a person. It was the kind of love she could never explain. The only people who understood were the ones who had also felt it.

“I talked with his mother, and she said, well, let’s just say she had a few choice words about her son,” Robins’ mother said, making Steve take a sharp breath in. The subject of his parents was still an extremely sore wound.

No, not really his parents. His mother. Steve didn’t care so much about losing his father, that was an inevitability whether he came out or not. He was just too different, too far away from what his dad expected him to become. Steve was honestly kind of happy when his father had kicked him out after they found out he was gay.

But that was his father. Steve had admitted to Robin late one night that having his mother turn her back on him was something he didn’t think he was ever going to fully recover from. Robin didn’t really understand it. Steve’s mother had never been anything but a cold hearted bitch in the few stilted conversations Robin had unfortunately had to have with her, and she knew for a fact that the woman had never treated Steve much better.

But he still missed her. He still wished that she could have loved him enough to try instead of just throwing him away. Robin supposed it was probably different when it was your own mom who hated you for something you had never asked for.

And apparently, she never needed to worry about that.

“The things that Lydia Harrington said told me everything I needed to know about why that boy needed you. That vile woman, the fact that she is the head of our ladies auxiliary is a travesty, and I've already appealed to the board twice and- well, that doesn't matter. What matters is that it also got me to thinkin' about why you seemed to need Steve just as much as he needs you.”

Her mom trailed off with a sigh They were approaching the edge again, staring out over the canyon, both wondering if their wings were strong enough yet to take that leap.

“....Do you have something you want to tell me?” Olivia asked her daughter, offering to give her the push she needed to fly.

Robin had a hundred thousand things to tell her mother. She wanted to tell her about the clubs she went to dance in at night, and the girl who sat in front of her in the orchestra at Juilliard. Robin wanted to tell her about how much it meant to Steve that her parents had insisted he had to come home with her for Christmas, and the way he had stayed up late all month trying to finish the gifts he was making for them. She wanted to tell her mom about Tammy Thompson, hear her laugh as Steve and Robin impersonated the girl's truly terrible singing.

She wanted to tell her mom she was gay.

But…

“Not now,” Robin decided. She wanted to do all of that, but she wanted to do it when she could see her mother’s face, when she could feel her father’s big warm hugs, “When I come home for the holidays,”

“Alright,” Olivia agreed, her voice soft and dripping with honey, “When you come home- when you both come home- you’ll tell me what you need to tell me.”

There was a beat, and then her mom spoke again. This time her voice was thick with emotion, and the words came out heavy.

“And I will tell you that I love you. I have loved you from the moment I knew you were in my belly, and I have loved you every single second after. Through every argument, every tantrum, every time you slammed the door in my face and told me I was trying to ruin your life,” They both huffed out a soft laugh at this.

Robin had really had a flair for drama when she was younger. Still did.

“I have loved you the entire time, and I will continue to love you until my last breath.”

“Mom,” Robin started, about to start the cycle all over again, but her mother interrupted her.

“You,” Olivia said with as much conviction as she could possibly have, “are the greatest gift of my life, Robin. My greatest joy. And I hope that you know that you can tell me whatever you need to, whenever you need to. I’d bury a body for you, little girl, but don’t you dare make me!”

She and Steve both broke out into giggles at this. The air was starting to come back into the room, warm and sweet.

“Your father feels the same way, just so you know,” Her mom added, just in case Robin hadn’t already caught that from everything else said, “Nothing could change how we feel for you,”

“Okay,” Robin whispered.

“You’re not alone right now, right?” Her mom asked, the normal touch of worry coloring her tone.

“No, um- Steve is sitting right next to me,” Robin admitted, hoping her mom would be okay with knowing that he had heard all of that.

“Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” Steve called, his voice betraying the fact that he had also been taken down by her heartfelt confession.

“Hi Angelboy!” Her mother sang, using the silly nickname she had assigned him when he had done the dishes one night after a family dinner. Olivia had been complaining that no one in the house ever helped her, and while she was ranting, Steve had snuck into the kitchen and finished all the dishes. She had bustled into the kitchen, found that there was no more work to be done, and declared that he was ‘her angel boy’, and she was stealing him from Robin.

“Make sure he knows the same thing goes for him- nothing changes that he’s a part of this family now,” She stated firmly.

“He knows,” Robin reassured her, knowing her mother would get in a car and drive all the way to New York just to come and beat it into their heads if she detected even a hint of doubt.

Robin rubbed at her face and took a deep calming breath, exhaustion starting to come over her in a haze. After that much emotion, the only thing she could want was her bed.

Well that, a stiff drink, and her best friend letting her leech his body heat all night long. As if sensing what was going on, Robin’s mother gave a loud exaggerated yawn.

“Alright, love. It’s getting pretty late, and I know you two were studying, so I’m going to let you go now, okay?” Her mother said.

“Okay,” Robin said, suppressing her own real yawn.

“Remember our rule though. I call on Thursdays at 7:30, and you?”

“Answer the phone,” Robin replied. This was routine, easy, normal. This was how they ended every phone call, with Olivia reminding Robin, as though her daughter had somehow forgotten in the last seven days.

Usually it annoyed her. Tonight she loved it.

“That’s right,” She said. Robin could just see her nodding her head as if she had just won a great battle.

“I love you, little bird,” Her mother cooed, and Robin smiled.

“I love you too mom,”

The words came easy. For years and years it had been so hard. Hard to say it back, hard to mean it when she had been so sure that it wouldn't be true for much longer. But now, Robin could tell her mother that she loved her as much as possible, and she was going to.

#Steve harrington #robin Buckley #robin Buckleys parents #robin Buckleys mother #Steve harringtons mother #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic soulmates Steve and robin #qpr stobin #I thought that after all the angst #and the mayhem of the last few days #we could use a little light and a little love :')))))#Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)

880 notes · View notes

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 8 months

Text

Personal Time [2]

Steven Grant X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Personal Time Series Masterlist (You don't have to read it to read this)

Summary: Steven orders a strap-on.

A/N: @lonelyisamyw-0love this is especially for you 💚

This is unbetaed (like all of my fics) I have read it over a few times, but my head just isn't in the game at the moment and I feel like I'm just not chatching errors. I appologise that there are probably more here than normal. Also Downward dog is a yoga position.

Warnings: oral (both m and f receiving), fingering, pegging, anal sex, sucking on a strap, praise kink (I’m sorry), the term ‘good boy’ used, begging, ermmmm kind of an exhibition kink?, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning.

Word Count: 4967

________________________________

Steven had spent the better part of 24 hours researching. Not all at once mind you.

He hadn’t meant to fixate on this, it had just sort of… happened.

One thing had led to another and another, and another. But he’d finally found a strap-on that he thought would tick all the boxes for both of you.

He had ordered it online, after checking fifteen times that the delivery would be with discreet packaging. There was no need to give Mrs Thompson on the second floor anything to get all gossipy about. Especially when she managed to churn up enough ‘scandal’ about the block’s private lives anyway. (Quite early on in your and Steven’s relationship Mrs Thompson had engaged you in conversation in the lift. And when she had noticed what floor you were headed to, had promptly filled you in on all the ‘juicy titbits’ about the ‘odd gentleman’ that lived in flat 502 and his two ‘unusual brothers’. You had struggled to keep a straight face and had blurted the whole story out to Steven the second you saw him.)

The discreet (ordinary) packaging was the main reason why Steven had just dumped the parcel on the coffee table with a couple others when he got home from work. He’d had a shower and gone as far as slicing open the brown parcel tape when you’d knocked at the door.

“Hi Steven.” You smiled as he held the door. “How was work?”

“Hi love,” he grinned and kissed your cheek before standing back to allow you to come in. “Good, good, shit actually, but good.”

You snorted as you took off your shoes and hung up your jacket.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Aw, thank you, just water.”

He grinned again and waited until your hands were unencumbered before he gave you a proper hug and a kiss. “Hello.”

“Hello.” You echoed as he held you tightly.

“Jake has been driving me fucking insane.”

You laughed as he broke the hug. “Why?”

“Why?” He pulled a face, mock exasperation that you knew was a put on just to amuse you. “His current obsession with Mrs Thomspon.”

You giggled and Steven gestured for you to take a seat on the sofa as he went into the kitchen to get you a glass of water, and himself a cup of tea.

“What’s the latest update in the saga?” You said as you sat down, noticing the three large parcels on the coffee table, one partially open.

“He baked her cookies.”

“Cookies?”

Steven leaned back so that he could stare at you dramatically. “Cookies.”

You laughed again. “How did she react?”

Steven rolled his eyes and went back to making the drinks. “She loves him! You know that already from her most recent lift update to you about, ‘that strange Mr Grant, his odd brother, and that lovely Jake.’”

You couldn’t stop your giggles at his impression of Mrs Thompson.

“I know Jake said he was going to kill her with kindness, but really.” He tutted. “He’s just doing it to annoy me. And to get all the gossip about everyone in the building.”

You smiled. While you were sure that Jake did enjoy hearing about the little mini-dramas that were going on in the block of flats, you knew that he had originally spoken to Mrs Thompson after the first lift incident as a precaution. A safety check. Just to see what the woman had been saying about them to other people.

He had ended up in the 77 year old's flat being fed tea and biscuits and had fixed her bathroom window, which hadn’t been closing right.

The kettle clicked off as it boiled.

“So what’s with all the boxes?” You called.

“Oh!” Steven answered excitedly, “I think they are the books I was telling you about!”

You chuckle. “Did you buy a library?”

“Pretty much!”

Your smile widens.

“I just had to get the full colour edition of the history of Iraq, because the photos looked amazing! Have a look!”

You paused for a second, a little ball of impoliteness prodded at your mind even though Steven had just given you express permission to look in the box. But you shook the feeling aside and opened it. It was silly to be worried, it was just…

Ah.

Steven came back into the room and paused at the look on your face. “Love?”

You looked up at him quickly, trying to hide the smile that wanted to take over your entire being.

“You okay?”

“It’s not your book in that parcel.”

He frowned. “It’s not,” then he sighed. “Have they sent the wrong bloody thing?”

You took the strap-on out of the packaging, all neatly sealed in its own very posh looking box, and held it up to him.

“Oh, yeah.” Steven blushed but he was grinning. “That’s not a book.”

“I didn’t realise you could also order these from Waterstones.”

He snorted. “No, that was definitely from a different place.” He gave you a sheepish smile as he put the drinks on the table and brushed his curls out of his eyes.

“I didn’t realise you’d ordered one.”

“Well,” he shrugged and sat down next to you, fiddling with his fingers ever so slightly. “I just, I wanted to make sure it was alright first.”

“You were gonna use it without me?” You teased.

“No,” his eyes shot up straight to yours, relaxing only when he saw your playful expression. “I just wanted to make sure it looked comfy for you.”

“For me?” The sentiment touches deep within your heart. “Steven, surely, I mean, it’s going in you. Your comfort is much more important.”

He pulled a face like you’d just told him that the sky was orange. “Don’t be silly, love.” He shifts a little closer to you, his knee resting against your leg. “So,” he points to the box in your hands. “I did some research to find one that was good for beginners and each party.”

“You did some research?” You tease gently and he nods.

You can’t help yourself as you rub your legs together. Unable to stop the thought of Steven hunched over his laptop on his desk, his glasses on the tip of his nose as he read in depth reviews. Had he worked himself up? Gotten all hot and bothered thinking about you fucking him again? Had he desperately relieved himself at his desk?

“Do you want to try it out today?” You ask tentatively.

“Now?” He asks eagerly.

“Now’s good.”

He had happily let you lead him to bed, your lips fastened to his as if he was your only source of oxygen. His tea long forgotten and growing cold.

You had drunk down his little moans, softly pushing him back onto the mattress and stripping him of his clothes. You bit his lip gently every time he tried to take off your own and he giggled.

When he was naked, at last, you took a moment just to admire him. The flushed golden hue of his skin, his beautiful dark eyes, the way his mouth parted with every breath.

Languidly you trailed your hands up his legs, placing gentle kisses on his inner thighs and smiling against his skin when he jumped and squirmed. His cock was already hard, twitching against his stomach and leaking. Desperate and waiting for you. For the smallest touch or caress, for anything you’d grace him with.

It was dizzying sometimes, the thought alone making your head spin, how much faith and trust Steven gave you, putting every single part of himself in your hands as if it was as natural as breathing.

You kissed his balls, nuzzling into them before licking them all over.

Steven swore, his back arching ever so slightly as he pushed himself closer and spread his legs wider.

You happily obliged him by licking a board, flat stripe up from the base to the very tip of his cock. Moaning slightly when the beaded precum at his head touched your tongue.

He groaned, trying to bury the sound behind his hand, “Love… please.”

You took your mouth away from him and he whimpered, a look of betrayal flashing across his features.

His pout made you smile.

You kissed the base of his length, running the tip of your nose against the thick vein that ran up the underside of his cock. Your smile widened when he shivered.

“Can you grab the lube out of the drawer?” You asked quietly and broke into a laugh at how quickly Steven moved. As if he had been struck by lightning.

He partially rolled over, carefully not to whack you with his thighs, and fished around for a second before pulling out the bottle and placing it into your waiting hand.

“Thank you.” You said in a singsong voice.

Since finding his dildo and your recent escapades with it, you had made it your personal mission to learn how to work Steven open yourself. Savouring every moan and clench of muscle. He’d seemingly become quite addicted to it.

You poured a generous helping of lube onto both of your hands. Then positioned your left hand around his cock, pumping him in lazy strokes, while you slide the fore and middle fingers of your right down his balls and pressed them lightly at his hole.

Steven’s breathing hitched, his hips bucking ever so slightly into your touch as he fought with himself to stay still.

You gently eased both of your fingers into him. Yours weren’t as thick as Steven’s own, and you knew from previous experience that he enjoyed that slow, tortuous stretch at the start. Happy to take two or three in the first breach, as long as they were well lubed.

He moaned, shuddered, and swore, fisting his hands into the sheets beside him and pressing his head back, exposing the tendons in his neck.

“Nice?” You asked as you moved your fingers, stroking them perfectly against his prostate.

Steven gasped loudly, nodding, his eyes screwed up tight at the sensation. “Yeah, yeah, yes, good, nice, really good!” He rushed all his words together, the syllables becoming a blur.

“Good.” You muttered. Heat swam in your lower belly, pooled at your core just from watching him. His pretty little sounds hypnotic.

You scissored your fingers lightly, just enough to stretch his tight ring of muscle before going back to your tortuously slow, deep strokes.

His thighs shook slightly, his muscles twitching as he fought with them to keep them still.

You lean up, moving slightly so that you can swirl your tongue over the tip of his cock.

Steven whines and you sink down, taking him deeper into your throat, and the action breaks him.

“Fuck!” He hisses between his teeth, grabbing hold of your shoulder and bucking up into your warm, wet mouth and then grinding down onto your fingers. He can’t stop himself now, the last of his resolve breaking so easily under your touch.

You let him writhe under you for a minute, let him buck and moan and sob as nonsense falls from his mouth.

Incoherent pleas of, ‘love’ and ‘good’, and ‘more’.

You keep one arm pressed against his hips, stopping him from thrashing too much. Slowly you start to avoid his prostate, just skim along the edges of it, until he whines. Almost delirious under your touch. “Looove!”

You chuckle, pulling off his cock and chuckle before going back to stroking and stretching him wide.

“Shit, ah, thank you, I-” He swallows, gasping for air and then quickly his hands are on your shoulders, pushing you back. “Wait, love, wait, too much, sorry.”

You removed your fingers instantly, sitting up as panic chills your veins. “You okay?”

“Good,” he breathes in deeply, “really good. Too good.” He gives you a lopsided smile. “Didn’t want to cum.”

You smile back as his words soothe you. “I thought I’d hurt you.”

His eyebrows pinch together in concern. “Oh love, no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” You give him a kiss and he chases after your mouth as you pull away.

You giggle. “I’ll be right back.” You quickly move away to the bathroom to wash your hands.

When you come back Steven has moved a little, now sitting more fully on the bed. He grins at you. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Oh?” You mock surprise as you approach him. “Am I?”

“Yes,” he grabs hold of you playfully and pulls you into an embrace as he kisses all over your face and neck. “Far too many.”

His hands are so warm, and you giggle as he slips them under your clothes, removing them like he was unwrapping a gift. He kisses your chest, lavishing attention on each breast before pulling you back down on top of him.

You let out a little squeak of surprise as he gently manhandles you into the position he wants - your thighs on either side of his head.

“Steven-”

“Hmm?” He asks innocently, pushing down on your hips so that your knees slide wider and your pussy inches closer to his waiting mouth.

“This is meant to be about you.” Your voice comes out weak and breathless.

“Oh, it is.” He whispers, leaning up and running a board, flat lick across your centre, and moaning loudly. The vibrations run up and along your clit.

You bite your lips together, trying to gain some kind of control over yourself as your toes curl and eyes roll back at the slow swipes of his tongue.

“Good job this is what I want then, isn’t it?” Steven mutters, his eyes dark and hungry before diving back to your folds and pressing you down to his waiting mouth.

“Steven,” you bite your lips together to hold back a moan, your right hand flying to the headboard, your left hand to his soft curls.

He wraps his arm around your waist, pushing down on your hips and rocking you back and forth against him, urging you to buck and grind on his tongue.

You can't help yourself, your muscles moving on instinct as you obey his commands without thinking.

Pleasure sparks low in your belly as he swirls his tongue over your clit, lightly scraping at you with his teeth before he curls his tongue through your folds and slips inside. You gasp, following his hypnotising rhythm as the familiar heat begins to build.

There’s a dull scratch of his stubble against your thighs as you ride him.

The bridge of his nose presses against your clit as he fucks his tongue deeper into you, groaning at every pull of his hair and every sound that falls from your lips.

His fingers dig in and bruise your skin, trying to bring you closer, urge you nearer despite the fact that you are as physically close as possible. It’s never enough for Steven, always hungry and desperate for more. More of your sounds, your taste, your warm, soft skin against his.

If you let him, he’d never stop. Would be content to spend the rest of his days with his head between your thighs.

Your toes start to curl, muscles clenching as the heady build of your orgasm begins to crest. So close, so close, so close. But you don’t want it yet.

You push on his forehead with the palm of your hand, moving your hips back and away from him. “Steven,” you breathe as his mouth chases after you, your words sounding indistinct from sighs of pleasure. You push against his head harder.

“Steven.” You try to inject some firmness into your voice, managing it barely.

He stops, his grip on your waist and thighs still tight, but he flops his head back against the pillows as he stares up at you. His eyes dark and hooded with lust, your slick covering the bottom half of his face. He’s breathing deep, his eyes dark, and his dick throbbing against his stomach. Hot and needy.

“You okay love?” He swallows as he asks, his chest heaving and you can feel the strain in his arms, the twitch of muscle as he fights with himself not to pull you back down onto his face.

You give him a sickeningly sweet smile, “Good, really good. Too good.” You repeat his previous words back at him. “Didn’t want to cum.”

“Love-”

“Wanna cum with you.”

He groans, biting his lip as his eyes roll back. He swallows and nods rapidly, almost as if he is afraid to speak and voice his deep-down urges.

You grin as you wiggle free of his grip, placing a quick kiss on his lips as you get off him and stand by the bed.

Steven sits up to watch you put the strap on, his eyes fixated on every movement. “Is it comfortable?” He breathes when you’ve adjusted it.

You nod.

He smiles, a little pinch of anxiety loosening.

You go to reach for the lube, but Steven clears his throat.

“Erm, love?” He waits until you look at him to continue. “Could I, erm, I mean, you can say no, if you don’t want to, I mean, could I maybe…?”

You stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt him. But you gently place your hand on his cheek, softly stroking his skin.

He swallows. “Could I suck it?”

A little smile pulls at your lips. “You wanna suck it?”

Steven nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Get on your knees then.” You whisper, your voice low.

He moves fast, quickly scrambling off the bed and to his knees on the floorboards. You chuckle, stepping back slightly to give him some room. But Steven’s hands go to your hips, reaching around to knead and squeeze your ass and pull you closer.

He licks his lips, staring at the strap, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Slowly he places a kiss to the very tip before ducking down to the very base and licking back up to the head, something you realise he has learnt from how you please him.

He takes the tip into his mouth, easing down slowly and bobbing back up. A low groan building in his chest.

“Fuck.” You whisper under your breath, almost too quiet for Steven to hear. Something about him there, on his knees, just does it for you.

With a little more force than you intend, you take hold of a handful of hair at the back of his head and push him deeper.

Steven moans louder. His eyes immediately snap open so he can stare up at you, lustful and cock dumb as salvia drips down his chin to mingle with your wetness that is still covering his skin.

He pushes against the strap ever so slightly, purposefully grinding the base of it against your clit and you gasp.

His dick twitches at the sound.

He swallows around the strap, easing further down, the silicon disappearing into his throat.

You pull him off with a harsh tug on his hair, a string of salvia connecting his mouth to the tip as he gasps for breath. His eyebrows pinched together.

“I get to fuck you now.” You growl and Steven nods his head swiftly.

He leans back and grabs the lube off the bed and hands it to you as he stands.

“How do you want to do it?” You ask as you pour a generous helping all over the length.

“Well,” a slight blush graces his cheeks, touches the tips of his ears. “I was reading,” another flash of Steven furiously jerking off at his desk in front of the laptop as he was ‘researching’ plays behind your eyes, “and there’s, erm, this position that’s meant to be really good.” He shifts his weight back and forth for a second before moving.

He places both hands on the edge of the bed, spreads his legs on the floor, and leans forward like he’s doing a slightly adapted version of a downward dog. “And, I was thinking-” His sharp intake of breath cuts off his words as you pour more lube against his entrance.

“You want me to fuck you like this?”

He nods, his lip back between his teeth. “Uh huh.”

You lean forward a little and his shoulder blade. “I think we can do that.”

He groans at your words, the sounds growing in pitch as you press the tip of the strap against his hole.

“You okay? You need me to warm you up some more?”

“No, please, I’m good, keep going, keep,” he pushes back against you, trying to work the dildo into himself on his own.

You chuckle a little at his eagerness, sliding your hand down to his right hip to steady him as you painstakingly slowly thrust forward. It sinks into him. Steven lets out a satisfied moan as the bulbous head inches past his tight ring of muscle. His hands fist at the bedsheet.

You can take your eyes off how it just disappears into him. The way he stretches around it, completely split open. You swear quietly under your breath and pull his cheeks apart ever so slightly so you can experience the full view as he greedily swallows the strap.

“Fuck, Steven, you look so good like this.”

He moans in response, his eyes screwing up in bliss, feeling so full. The thickness of the strap in him, your hands on him, the heat of your skin as the front of your thighs kiss against the backs of his. It’s almost too much.

His cock throbs painfully hard, heavy, and pleading for relief. So persistent it’s almost maddening.

Finally, you bottom out, your hips flush against him. You ease out again slowly, savouring the torturous pace as you pull back until the tip is barely inside before sinking in.

“You look so good like this Steven,” you praise and delight in his little whimper. “So good taking all of this for me.”

He nods rapidly, eyes screwed shut. He shifts a little as you slide back into him, dropping to his elbows against the bed.

“Next time, shit,” you start to move a little faster. The press of the strap against your clit burning deliciously. “Next time, I’m gonna take photos of you split open like this.”

He moans wantonly.

“Gonna take a video of how well you take me. Of what a good boy you are.” You slide deeper, brushing against his prostate and Steven keens, his back arching. “Gonna watch it every day, gonna touch myself and cum looking at you,” warmth spread along your veins, tightening in your core.

“Oh fuck, please, please, please,” he grinds back into your every thrust, needing you deeper, harder, craving anything you would give. Words pile up in his mind, so many that it’s practically impossible for them all to fall out of his mouth. He wants you, needs you, everywhere. Everything you could possibly do to him. He’ll suffocate without it.

Pleasure sparks up from the base of his spine, tightening his muscles and he’s so, so close to just falling into it.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” he slurs, “take videos of me,” he whines, too cockdumb to have any verbal filter. “Split me open, fuck, post them online, I want everyone to seee- Ah!” He sobs as you thrust particularly deep, and you focus all your energy on hitting the same spot over and over.

“You want everyone to see Steven?” You lean forward, hissing in his ear. “You want everyone to see how well you can take it?” Want them all to cum looking at you.”

“Ohshit!” He can’t help it, the thought of it, it’s too much. He tenses, moaning loudly. Every muscle clenches as he cums, spilling thick ropes all over the side of the bed and floorboard. Splashes hitting his stomach. He had intended to warn you when he was close, but now he just can’t stop as he convulses through his orgasm, the pleasure twisting and building impossibly in his stomach.

You kiss his shoulder blade and start to slow your hips.

“No, no, no, no,” he reaches around to grab hold of your hips, moving back against you. “Please, please, keep going, I think I can, ah!” He rocks on the balls on his feet as you start thrusting again. “I think I can cum again, please.”

You groan at how he leans back into you, his breathy, needy, desperate whines, all of it combines to make you lightheaded.

Steven grabs at your right hand, his eyes half closed, mouth hanging open. For a moment you think he just wants to link fingers but he quickly moves it to his head.

“Pull, pull my hair, please, pull me back, just- fuck!”

You do as he asks, taking a large fistful of hair and yanking him towards your chest. He moans loudly as you pull, his spine arching, his throat bobbing as it bends under your grip. He barely manages to keep hold of the bed with both hands, his thighs shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright.

It’s like there’s a snap in his abdomen releasing bliss and pleasure overwhelms every thought.

He sobs out your name as he cums again. Every nerve shaking. And while not much more than a dribble shoots out of his aching cock, he cums harder than he thought possible. It’s like liquid gold explodes along every cell, coating and purifying every single part of him.

He doesn’t remember blacking out for a second, but he must have because the next thing he knows is that he’s in your arms. Your muscles hold him steady and stop him from falling back and smacking his head against the corner of the bedside table.

“Steven?” There’s a tiny pinch of panic in your voice that makes his chest hurt. The idea that you’re worried about him, that he caused your worry is almost too much in that moment.

“I’m fine love, sorry,” he moves to stand fully, taking his weight off of you. “That was so amazing, I just…” He breathes deeply.

You keep your arms around him, keep up that steadying hold. “Are you sure you're-” You yelp, the rest of your sentence lost as Steven turns quickly, pulling the strap on out of himself with a wet pop.

He kisses you deeply, his hands on your cheeks as he slides his tongue into your mouth and groans.

It’s so sudden that you barely register his movements before he’s turning you around and pressing you back against the bed. (Purposefully avoiding the wet patch he left, with mumbles of how he’d change the bedding later.)

He unbuckles the strap hastily, his short nails leaving shallow scratches before he throws it to the side.

“Steve-”

He kneels, dragging your hips to the mattress's edge and spreading your thighs wide.

Without any pause he quickly slides two thick fingers into your aching heat, groaning low in his chest at your wetness. You gasp as he curls them, finding that perfect spot instantly as he strokes your walls.

“Steven, you don’t have to-” Your moan cuts off the rest of your words as he leans forward and presses a board, flat lick across your clit. Timing the movement with the caress of his fingers.

You squirm against his touch, already so worked up, and fight the urge to clamp your legs around his face.

Steven looked up at you, large puppy dog eyes dark and hungry.

Heat builds rapidly in your core, the sound of your wetness echoing around the flat.

He dips his tongue down, slipping in through your folds and into your core just above his fingers. He moans as your muscles tense, never taking his eyes off you.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer as your rock against him, trying to chase that tantalising pressure. Needing more.

The movement of his tongue and fingers overtakes and outshines any other possible thought as all you can do is mindlessly buck against his face as you near your high.

Steven presses deeper, slipping in a third finger and nudging the bridge of his nose against your clit. And fuuccccck.

You cum against him with a wail you’d be embarrassed about if you could formulate thoughts. Every possible thought is overtaken by the sudden wave of pleasure he pulls out of you, drowns you in. Stars dance behind your eyes as your muscles shake.

Steven laps at you steadily, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible until you are gasping, tears in your eyes from the overstimulation.

You place a hand on his shoulder and he slowly withdrawals his fingers, groaning at the white, creamy mess you left on his digits.

He presses a kiss against your knee as you breathe hard.

“I think the strap was a success.” He says, quite matter of factly, as if you had just managed to find a slightly quicker route to work.

You giggle as he glances up at you and pulls a silly face. “Definitely.”

He pauses for one moment, nuzzling against your thigh. “I, erm, maybe we don’t upload videos of me online though.” He blushes a little and you lean down, kissing him deeply.

“I know that was just sex talk, those are all for me anyway.”

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Didn’t… weird you out or anything?”

You shake your head. “I loved it.”

“Good.” He leans into your embrace as you wrap your arms around him.

“Though, if we did upload videos of you,” you tease, “I’m sure we’d make so much money, you could buy all the books you wan-”

You yelp and giggle as Steven tackles you back onto the bed and kisses you roughly.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x female reader #x female reader #steven grant x f!reader #x f!reader #steven grant x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

178 notes · View notes

stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 5 months

Text

Hey, Mickey! [Pt. 2]

University AU TW: Language, Alcohol Consumption, P w/out P, Hook-Up Culture, Y/N's a bit promiscuous but so are her friends lmfao Smut Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Sloppy Make Outs, Penetrative Sex, Degradation, Name Calling, Fingering, Handjob, Oral (F!Giving - Blowjob), Lowkey face-fucking, Overstimulation, San's a meanie (translated: soft dom ish), Unprotected Sex (contraceptives are sexy guys), Double Penetration, Anal, Creampie, Manhandling, Multiple Orgasms, Genre: Romance, Smut, Exes-to-FWB-to-Lovers, Minors DNI Pairing: Choi San x Reader ft. Yeosang YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 3.8K

[Other Groups Masterlist] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: I didn't mean to write a sequel to this but... here we are ig lmaooooooo BUT THIS IS IT I PROMISE! Also rq you do not need to read part 1, this can be a stand alone, but if you want to read that filth go ahead. Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

"I hate you, (Y/N)!" Your friend cried. "You said he's free!"

"Okay, and? He's not free anymore," you sipped on your iced tea while your friend lamented on the table in front of you.

"Was he... was he at least a good fuck?"

"I guess you'll never know."

"No!" Your friend cries into her arms. She looks at you with sad eyes. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yup," you finished your tea and placed it aside while you continued your paper. "Plus, you don't want to date that asshole," you rolled your eyes and groaned.

"Why not?"

"His idea of a date is a movie and a fuck, he's so unromantic," you complained.

"Why are you dating him then?" She asks, regaining her composure and touching up her eyeliner now.

"I guess I'm just used to it," you eyed her weirdly but continued your own business. "Maybe I kinda missed it."

"Wow, your friends were right, your standards are really on the floor, huh?" She huffs. Apparently so.

"I know," you couldn't stop the grin from rising on your face. "Anyway, we have a date later, so we'll see what happens," you rest your chin against your palm.

"Aw, what's the plan?" She pushes.

"Let's see," San chimes behind you while placing a hand on your shoulder, "dinner at 6, movie at 8, and sex in my car at 10," San lists off on his fingers behind you.

"You're stupid," you rolled your eyes again and looked at your friend, "what did I tell you. Unromantic, right?" You sighed.

"Just the way you like it," he shoots you a wink and steals your coffee.

"What else did I tell you? Absolute asshole," you deadpanned toward your friend. San, making no comment, walked off. "Look, he just came here to fucking embarrass me and take my shit, ugh, why am I talking to him again?" You shook your head and went back to work. "Consider yourself lucky, friend." You stole a glance at her, catching her watching San walk off.

"I wish I had a guy who treated me like shit."

"You're even stupider than he is."

"Let me live my whore era in peace," her head slips down her hand and she giggles. "You have two other friends, right?"

"Why are you so attracted to my friends?!"

"Why are your friends so attractive?!" She fires back.

"Really, San? I thought you'd at least be a little more classy than this," you crawled over to the backseat and straddled his lap. The earlier date was a bit of a blur, to be honest, the movie was boring and dinner was okay, but part of you felt that weird semblance of him trying to be more romantic. It didn't work though. In the end, you were still about to fuck in his car, one of the most unromantic of places.

"I mean, yeah, but you're here anyway, aren't you?" His hands rest on either side of your hip. "If you want me to take you home to my place right now then I'll do it," he shrugs. "But can you wait that long?" He teases you.

"Shut up," you leaned down and kissed him. Your lips moved together slowly while San's thumbs started to trace circles around your hips. His hands slipped into your shirt and sent a cold shock up your spine, something that elicited a small groan from you and allowed San to push forward while deepening the kiss. You felt your hips relax against his lap and you could feel his boner against his jeans. You separated for a moment, leaving San to chase after you.

"What?" His voice sounded more disinterested than annoyed.

"Your windows are tinted, right?" You looked out into the nighttime.

"Nope," he pulls you down to his lips once again.

"San," his name was muffled between your lips. "Mm mmm," you shook your head. He pulled away.

"Come on, no one's here, you can see the lot better than I can," he starts to kiss your neck instead. He wasn't really wrong per se, you really should've suspected something when he parked back here, but here you were being surprised again, huh? "What are you so worried about? It's not like anyone we know would be here at this time," he continues. Again, he wasn't wrong.

Plus, part of you thought that car sex was hot.

"Fine, but I do expect you to bring me home still," you said.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he pulled your shirt off and kissed you again, something you welcomed and reciprocated. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra before tossing it to some unknown part of the car, and your hips bucked against his, something that made him smirk against you. "Needy much?" He teased you too often, in your opinion.

"Shut up and just fuck me already, okay?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," San separated from you and you groaned. "Hold on there, baby, we're not just fucking around anymore," he lowers you against the seat and your breath catches in your throat. "Nah, we're "talking," right? I'm fucking to keep you now," he presses small kisses against your chest. "Then again, my competition is Mark, so I'm not too concerned," he grabs the waistbands of your skirt and your panties and pulls them off slowly.

"Don't be mean!" You tug at his hair and he groans around your nipple.

Mark, San's polar opposite. He was sweet, romantic, and just so caring, kinda bad at sex but you would never tell him. You didn't deserve him, now that you thought of it, especially since you're about to be willingly dicked down by your ex, but what's new?

"And? Since when were you into the nice guys? I know you, you like us mean," San's fingers ghost over your clit and your back arches. He pushes himself up and presses wet kisses along your jaw just as he traces his fingers around your folds and, fucking finally, he presses two fingers inside of you.

"Haa..." you let out a shaky moan and felt yourself sinking into the leather seats. You pulled his face to yours and kissed him hard. He let out a low groan as you started to palm at his crotch.

"You like us stupid too," he mutters against you. "You like it when we can't think of anything other than you, you thrive on that shit, it gets you off every time," his voice was a low rumble on your lips.

"No," your response came out as a low moan, "that's not..." you couldn't finish your sentence, not with how he was moving inside of you.

"You're all I ever think about," he presses up against your g-spot and your legs nearly clamped together as you started to grind on his fingers. "I could be doing whatever and all I can think about is how much of a cock-hungry whore you can be, all I think about is how you can barely even talk after I'm done with you. You should see yourself right now, where'd all that pride from earlier go?" He pulled his hand away in a swift movement, licking them clean before pulling his jeans off. The opportunity presented itself and you weren't one to back down, besides, you couldn't let him have all the glory. You were quick to push him back now, taking more of a front and wrapping your hand around his dick. "Oh?" He asks with a confident grin. You dragged your hand up and started to slowly jerk him, taking your time to listen to his own pretty moans.

"I usually prefer to be the one dumb fucked stupid but... you said it yourself, I'm fucking to keep you," you crawled into the space between his legs and wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, your tongue drawing languid circles around it while San's head hit the back of the seat.

"Fuck..." he drew the curse out and his hand rested on the top of your head as you took more and more of his cock into your mouth. He wasn't pushing down on you, thankfully, but the force was there, and god did it turn you on. You pulled your head up along his dick now, jerking him all along the way while he started to pull at your hair. The bitter taste of precum dragged along your tongue each time you tried to take more of him. "You can take more of it, I know you can," he starts to push your head down further and you gagged around him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and San cursed again. "Fuck, you look so hot like this," he brushes your hair out of your face right as you take the last of him in. Deep breaths, just relax. Not the first time you blew him, just the first time in such a restricted space. You try to pull off of him again, but his hips move up and he holds you in place.

"Mmph," you moaned around him while he thrust into you. Your legs started to give way under you, sliding further apart while you sank to the bottom of the car and your wetness dripped out of you. One of your hands moved to your pussy and you slipped your index and middle fingers inside to scissor yourself while you gagged on his cock. San moaned on top of you just as he pulled you off of him to give you a chance to climb back on top of him, your pussy hovering above his cock for just a moment before you spread your lips and sank down on him. He pulled you down into an open kiss, with wet moans being stolen with his tongue. His hands settled on your hips, squeezing them gently to urge you to move at your own pace, and a small shift from him was enough for you to start riding him. Your hips rocked back and forth, the car shifting under you with every movement but your wary glances around confirmed that you and he were still alone. Finally, you felt your abdomen tighten and you tugged him away from you. "I'm... haa... I'm almost there," you told him.

"Are you?" His words had a heavy sultry tone to them and you felt his lips trail up your jawline. "Hold it in," he bites down on your neck and you whimpered.

"I don't think... mmph... I don't think I can," your voice mixed with your moans now and his hands tightened on your waist to hold you still.

"You know, I just cleaned this car too," he spoke against your neck. This asshole. "Would be a shame if I had to clean it again," he sighs and lowers you down again, taking full control of you.

"San, please," your hands squeezed his hips and he thrusts into you. "Please, please, please," you begged him. You couldn't hold your orgasm in any longer than you already have.

"Go then," he releases your hips and you grasp onto his shoulders and lean forward, moving up and down his length to reach your orgasm all the while he whispers dirty things. Your pussy slid against his cock, feeling the way he stretched you open with each glide up and down, it was almost too good. The things you would do just to get him to let you sit on his cock forever. "Damn, only I can make you like this, huh?" He grins just as you stilled over him, your orgasm wracking through your body, and him moaning on top of you, staying in place while your pussy tried to pull him in further.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed repeatedly and San flipped you so that your stomach was against the seats and he pistoned into you. "Fuck, oh god, I can't," you shook your head against them now while San thrust into you with enough force that your wetness gushed around his cock. And when you felt his thumb press against your pucker you grabbed onto the seats with a vice grip, then right as you reached your second orgasm he stilled for a moment, letting you ride it out, until he spoke again.

"You ready?"

"Mmhmm," you moaned and he pushed into you.

"Shit..." he let out a breathy moan, while you moaned loudly, not caring if anyone was around to hear you. Your hand moved to your clit, trying to speed up to your next orgasm.

"Ugh, oh god," your hands moved faster and soon, somehow, you were on his lap again, your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on your waist while he fucked you and you bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming while the car rocked back and forth and, then, you made a mistake. You opened your eyes.

And Yeosang's jaw dropped.

Immediately, you zipped your mouth shut and San, sensing the sudden unease, stopped all his movements. You and Yeosang were stuck staring at each other for a bit, and carefully, awkwardly, he held up a bag and pointed at it.

"Haa, fuck," you cursed, rolled your eyes, and pointed at San's head. San turned his head just enough to see him, before he looked at you.

"Down?" He asks. He didn't specify what in particular, but with enough context, you were able to piece it together.

"In here?"

"Sure."

"Ugh," you groaned again. "If he is," you finally conceded. You looked out the back window again and, for whatever reason, Yeosang was still standing there. Of all the times to run into him it happened to be when your ex was balls deep into your pussy, of course. Wordlessly, San turned just enough to see him again and raised his hand up, motioning for Yeosang to come in. Yeosang, seemingly, took a deep breath and sighed. He looked at you, showing you a thumbs up and a look as if to ask if it was really okay, and with another roll of your eyes you nodded, and he shrugged, and he walked over. "God, it's about to get so cramped." You grumbled.

"Whatever, not the first time we fucked in this car," San groaned. You made a move to pull off of him, but he held you still while he leaned over and unlocked the car.

"I have, uh, waba grill," Yeosang slides in. "You look hungry, (Y/N)."

"A little, yeah," you nodded.

"Yo, you gonna join us or are you just here to fap?" San leans over to ask him. "Lock the car for me too."

"Yeah, yeah," Yeosang locks the car. "You cool if I join for sure, right?" He asks you.

"Woo might be mad that he's not here," you looked away for a moment.

"Aw, man, Woo doesn't have to know," San reasons.

"Well, whatever," Yeosang tosses his food onto the driver's seat and climbs in the back. "How far are we?"

"Three orgasms... was about to be four until you decided to look in here," you muttered.

"Whoops," Yeo pulls his shirt off and you look away.

"Yo," San whistles lowly.

"You guys suck," you mumbled and San pulled you off of him.

"I'll take a breather, you two have fun," San says. That's... different.

"Huh? You sure?" Yeosang asks and even you were surprised.

"Sure, last time you two get to fuck at least."

"Last?!" You both exclaimed.

"Yup, next time (Y/N) and I'll be official."

"In your dreams, Choi San," you rolled your eyes and turned Yeosang's face toward yours, capturing his lips with yours in an instant. Yeosang matched your rhythm quickly, holding onto your hips with a gentle grip while you moved on top of him.

"Oh," he mumbles. Yup, you both knew it, he was planning something. "Whatever, (Y/N), come here," he pulls you close to him and you press your lips to his.

Okay, you had to admit it, this wasn't the first time you and Yeosang fucked. The first time was because you both got drunk at a party. The second was because he picked you up from a failed date. And the third was now. And yet every time and with every partner, of course, you ended up comparing them to the jackass sitting behind you. Yeosang was gentler in his movements, he had control, easily, but he let you go through the motions. Even now, while you sank your hips onto his, you could feel the motions of him pushing you down too. You held onto both headrests on either side of you when he started to thrust into you, and you fought the urge to clamp your legs whenever he pushed into you just right. Your hands traced up his abdomen, wrapping around either side of his chest while you rode him, in some ways Yeosang was just perfect and if it hadn't been for San then maybe, maybe, this would've felt a little less cruel. Then, you felt San press his hand onto your back and he pushed you down onto Yeosang, close enough that you two nearly fell into a kiss.

"You know, (Y/N)," San whispers in your ear, pressing a small kiss to the shell of it too. "Yeo's had the biggest crush on you since we were kids."

"Come on, man, don't tell her about that," Yeosang's face twists in pleasure. He holds onto you tighter, thrusts becoming more pointed.

"The dude used to cum in socks thinking of you," San laughs. "What do you think? Pussy better than fabric?" San chides.

"San!" You tried to turn to glare at him, but his hand kept your head in place.

"And look at you two now, fucking in the backseat of my car," he continues to taunt. "How's it feel, Yeo?"

"Fuck you, San," Yeosang holds onto your hips tighter and you let out a breathy moan.

"Don't even listen to him," you pressed your lips against Yeosang's, and he kissed back, with both of your hips rolling against each other. Then you felt San's cock rub against you. And when you felt it push against your asshole, you broke off of Yeosang and buried your head in his neck, muffling your moan against his skin. "Fuck," you gripped onto Yeosang's arms and he groaned with every movement. Every time San pushed further into you, you ground down on Yeosang, and with every thrust you moved forward and back between them until he had finally settled in. You lightly chewed on Yeosang's skin, trying to get used to the feeling. Yeosang moaned under you, feeling the difference almost instantly.

"Shit," he clenches his jaw, holding back as much as he could.

"Don't be a little bitch," San growls, wrapping one arm around your torso and pulling you up against his chest, he thrusts into you and you grab onto his arm, your nails digging into his skin with every movement and Yeosang biting down on his hand to stop himself from cumming inside of you. "You cum in her and I'll make sure you regret it, Yeo," San says.

"I'm fucking trying, asshole," Yeosang makes a move to pull out of you but San pushes you down on his cock further.

"Oh god," your hands were on either side of Yeosang now, mind going blank from both cocks moving inside of you. Yeosang pressed open-mouth kisses against your skin, leaving it burning in its path. You turned your head so that you could whisper to him, being sure that only he could hear you.

"Fuck me like you got to me first," you said beneath a moan. Yeosang turns his head to look at you.

"Fuck it," Yeosang shakes his head and grips your thighs, pushing into you at a new pace to match San's, and you fell limp against him, fighting against his own strength to close your legs.

"Attaboy!" San was almost having too much fun with this. "Savor it, lover boy, this is the last time you get to try it." He could be so mean sometimes.

"Fuck! Oh, god, don't stop!" You felt your orgasm building up inside you again, your pussy clenched around Yeosang's cock and your hands dug into his hair while San constantly reminded you that he was there.

"Haa, shit," Yeosang cursed under you. From the way he was moving you could tell he was close and, fuck how amazing it would be to feel him. "Where?" Was all he could get out and, before you could even answer, San pulled you off of him and wrapped his arms under your legs to keep them open.

"Not inside, that's for sure," San said between grunts, he thrust into you at a faster pace now, not being held back by the previous resistance, and your head fell against his neck, just barely able to see through bleary eyes the way Yeosang jerked his cock. You felt your pussy clench around nothing, trying to get some kind of pleasure, any, and luckily Yeosang knew you better than you thought. His mouth wrapped over your clit, tongue circling around the sensitive nub while San continued to fuck into you, and when Yeosang pushed his tongue inside of you you knew you were done for. Your next orgasm hit you hard, so hard that you swear you blacked out for a second before getting pulled back to the reality that was San cumming in your ass. Your legs shook under his hold, and your breaths were heavy and hot. Yeosang sat up, wiping the cum from his chin as he did so.

"No more... I can't..." you shook your head and San pulled out of you slowly, watching the trail of cum follow his dick.

"Yeah, yeah," San was quiet, finally. Yeosang, meanwhile, reached over and grabbed his clothes.

"Well, I'm out," he pulls his shirt on.

"You're leaving already?" You asked with your eyes screwed shut.

"Yeah, exam," Yeosang rolls his eyes, wiping his dick off before shoving it back into his boxers. "Later," he steps into the passenger seat before unlocking the door, he looks back at San. "Also, you're an asshole."

"I know," San holds his hand up until Yeosang leaves. "You staying back here or moving up?"

"Ugh..." you turned so that your head laid on his chest, "can we just stay like this for a bit?"

"Sure," San's hand rests on your back now. "Too hard?"

"Like you care."

"Hey! I'm trying here," his hands rose up momentarily before settling on you again. You pressed a small kiss to his chest.

"Were you telling the truth about Yeo?"

"Oh yeah, big time," he nods.

"That's mean."

"Just how you like it."

"Fuck you."

"So soon?"

"I... ugh..." you closed your eyes again.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fics #ateez x you #ateez x yn #san x reader #san x you #san x yn #ateez smut #san smut #my writings #smut #choi san x reader #choi san x you #choi san x yn #choi san smut

134 notes · View notes