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whxtedreams · 29 days

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Chapter Two: Bittersweet

The Depths we Devour, a gothic horror detective!joel fic

Summary

Detective Miller begins to investigate the strange clicking sound coming from below the cellar when he hears you scream, rushing to protect you.

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags: joel miller has inappropriate thoughts about reader, Joel POV, reader is referred to as the girl and she/her, reader has hair that can be braided and reaches her back, reader wears dresses, protective!joel, joel calls reader sweetheart/honey, violence, joel shoots someone, near death experience, anxiety, reader goes non-verbal, joel comforts reader, joel can carry reader, joel undresses and dresses reader, comfort!, im screaming while writing this, height difference, joel describes reader as small (height), joel is a little bit of an ass to alex, joel examines dead body (kind of) - as always, if i miss any let me know

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The Detective

Day Two

5am

His sleep is restless, an annoying clicking coming from below him keeping him from sleeping more than an hour at a time. At three, he lays flat on the floor with his ear pressed on the dark wooden floors. He grunts as the clicking stops, then starts again and he taps his head on the floor a few times before getting back into bed. He presses a pillow to his head, attempting to drown out the noise but his efforts are futile.

Click, click, clickclickclick, thump.

Click.

At five, he gets up from the bed, grumbling at the noise as he dresses for the day.

He stumbles down the stairs with a long, audible yawn, his eyes adjusting to the light of the sunrise shining through the windows. The storm which had settled overnight and caused such chaos has now passed, the clouds parting and clearing as the sun rises again, the harsh weather of yesterday reduced to the gentle blue sky and calm, refreshing, morning air.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and pauses momentarily, his ears catching the soft song of her voice, a melodious tune paired with the soothing keys of a piano. It calls out to him just as it did yesterday, and he is drawn to it, like a siren seducing him deeper into its embrace.

He finds her once more, her back to him as her soft voice rises and falls, paired against the soothing keys and the peaceful atmosphere of the morning. Her fingers dance smoothly over the keys, her movements and motions as fluid and pleasing to the eye as her voice is to his ears.

“I flew back home. It seems everything's the same. Except that you weren't home ‘Hello,’ I call to no one. When you're home, you're home. When you're home, you're home.”

He listens in a trance until the song comes to an end, the words flowing and tapering off as the song comes to a natural and satisfying conclusion. His gaze remains fixed upon her, his body relaxing as he leans on the doorway, his arms crossed against his chest and a faint smile finding its way to his lips as he takes in the beautiful scene in front of him.

Her hair is braided in two small braids today, each sporting a delicate, soft pink bow at the end. Her dress is shorter today than it had been yesterday, revealing the delicate skin of her legs beneath it. The dress itself is a light shade of pink, almost white. There is another small bow at the back of her dress near the waist, giving her a young and youthful appearance.

Tooyoungtooyoungtooyoung.

She turns a moment after her fingers press the final key on the piano and brings an abrupt end to her song as she catches sight of the detective, a soft smile spread across her face as she sees him. However, as she turns, the dress rises slightly, exposing a brief hint of her thigh before he quickly averts his gaze. He refuses to continue to let his eyes linger in a way that he knows would be inappropriate.

He craves to touch her again, to feel the smooth skin under his fingertips as she responds to his touch with goosebumps on her skin, his every urge screaming at him to reach out for her, yet his body remains still.

Tooyoungtooyoungtooyoung.

“Good morning detective. You’re awake awfully early.” she remarks with a warm, kind smile, standing from the piano with a fluid, graceful motion. His gaze flickers downwards for a moment before settling back onto her face, his eyes momentarily caught by the soft, white lace-trimmed socks which rise to just below her knees. The sight draws his focus once more, and he swallows thickly, unable to help himself. His attention then returns to her face, trying to push away those thoughts that were growing increasingly... inappropriate.

To throw her soft laced covered legs over his shoulders as he-

She’s his client.

A younger client.

He clears his throat. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She lets out a soft sigh, beginning to move past him as she walks across the room, leading him into a smaller, more intimate kitchen as compared to the kitchen from the lower level of the previous day. She gestures for him to sit down on a stool at the island before her, moving towards the coffee pot as he follows along, settling down into his seat as she begins to prepare some coffee for them both.

“Was it the clicking?” She asks, her back to him.

He frowns, clasping his hands together as he leans on the bench. “What?”

“What kept you awake, was it the clicking? We’ve searched the whole house, can’t find where it comes from. It’s always lower, even when we go down to the cellar, it’s still coming from under the floorboards even though that’s the lowest part of the house.” She sighs as she busies herself.

“Any sugar? Milk?” She asks, finally turning to him as she asks.

“Just black coffee is fine.”

He frowns as she speaks, his curiosity piqued at the strange clicking noise. It was loud last night, like it was right beneath him. Yet the fact that it seemed to come from beneath the cellar only added further confusion to the mystery. But if the noise comes from under the cellar, how did he hear it so loud last night?

He shakes his thoughts aside as she sets a mug of coffee in front of him, the hot steam filling the air above the mug as she does. “I don’t know how you drink it like that, it’s so bitter.” He is brought back to the present moment by her adorable little nose scrunch, his thoughts on the clicking momentarily diverted, if only for a few moments by her expression. He hates himself for finding her cute, but then, he can't seem to help himself when it comes to her.

"Yeah? I bet you have ten sugars, right?" He teases back, taking a small sip of the coffee. He watches as she rolls her eyes at him with a smirk on his face.

“No, that’s gross. I have honey and milk in mine.” She shrugs. His gaze flicks over to the jar of raw honey on the bench, a small Winnie the Pooh design on the jar standing out to him.

“Honey?” he raises his eyebrow at the jar.

“It’s really good, I swear.”

“I doubt that.” he responds with a teasing lilt to his voice, scrunching up his nose as he does so. She huffs in response, crossing her arms over her chest. Her small, adorable expression all but screaming out that he had clearly touched a sensitive spot with her.

He watches her pout and huff with amusement, a small corner of his mind telling him that he's just watching her and not trying to commit the moment to memory. That he's only watching her and nothing more. Yet, despite his attempts at denial, another portion of his mind remains focused upon these small, subtle details about how she makes her coffee, just in case he does end up having to make it for her himself, a desire to make it right for her.

Perfect for her.

No, of course not. He’s just watching.

She sits down next to him with a huff, but all trace of the small pout and the even cuter huffing soon vanishes as she sips the coffee, a smile spreading across her lips as it seems to hit all the right points of her taste buds. He watches her, catching a brief glimpse of the smile, before he quickly returns to his own mug of hot, bitter coffee.

She’s too sweet for him.

8:24am

A courtyard is situated on the other side of the conservatory, numerous large planter boxes filled with growing vegetables and herbs of all kinds, the small area arranged neatly and cleanly as it looks like its tended to regularly. The warm, soothing smell of the herbs and vegetables mix to form a pleasant air as the morning sun strikes the courtyard, casting its light to shine against the conservatory glass windows and the garden.

The girl mentioned as they ate breakfast together that she had not seen the grounds keeper for a few days, but that wasn’t unusual. The grounds keeper, Mia, is known to take small trips into the town a few hours from the manor and since there was a storm last night, it was more than likely she waited the storm out in town.

A woman with long wavy red hair kneels in front of a planter box, clad in a pair of gloves as she digs her hands into the moist soil, her bandanna tied around her head to keep her long hair out of her face as she frowns, focusing on the task before her. The sound of her movements and the quiet chatter of the occasional bird or passing insect is the only noise in the courtyard.

The detective doesn't care about being quiet, about startling the woman. His fingers wrap themselves around a metal chair neatly tucked under a table in the courtyard and drags it across the short distance that separates the two of them. He sets the chair down near her and sits down in it backwards, his legs spread around the back of the chair as he rests his forearms on the metal frame.

“I’m not in the mood sugar,” She sighs without glancing at the detective, her voice tired and slightly resigned.

Sugar.

“I prefer Detective Miller, actually.”

She turns to face him at the sound of his voice, her face registering a moment of confusion as she notices his sudden presence in the courtyard. She seems to be in her late thirties and her eyes are red, bloodshot. It's clear to the detective she's been crying. Small scratches line her neck, reaching down towards her collarbone. A dark bruise is beginning to take form under the collar of her shirt where her overalls are buckled over her shoulder.

Mia tugs the collar of her shirt slightly before she turns her attention back to the garden bed, clearly trying to avoid his gaze. She tries to reassure herself, her voice softer than before as she speaks.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she mutters quietly, but there's a waver to her words, and she seems to be trying to hide something.

“What happened?” The detective asks, his eyes tailing across her body.

There are splatters of blood and mud around the bottom of her overalls, a few small tears at her knees adding to the mixture of stains on her clothing. Her boots are caked in mud and grass up to the top, the grooves in the soles filled with small rocks that are pressed there from her travels. She was in the forest, he decides.

“I was in town before the storm. Stayed the night.” She shrugs, her eyes diverted from the detective.

“Don’t lie to me.” He warns, shifting in the chair as he looks down at her.

Mia leans back on her heels, seeming to try and get some relief from the physical labour of the task, but she doesn't seem to get any. She looks exhausted, sick even, her movements sluggish now. Her eyes still avoiding his gaze.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“It’s going to take an awful lot for me to think that of you miss.”

“I went looking for Doctor Lewis.” She confesses.

Joel nods, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“I went to the cave he’s been working out of, but then the storm hit. It was so dark and cold, so I went deeper to get out of the storm. But there were monsters in there.” Her voice is a mere whisper now, a sharp contrast to her earlier tones. When she mentions the monsters, there is a clear hint of fear and caution in the way she speaks. She speaks of them in hushed tones, as if they might take notice of her call and suddenly appear, eager to attack her once more.

Joel nods with a sigh as he stands from the chair, crouching next to her to get a better look at her wounds. She's scared, tired, and hurt, he can see it in her mannerisms. She flinches when his hand reaches out for her, pain making her hiss as she tries to shrink back and hide from the touch.

"You think it was a wild animal?" Joel attempts to assure her, his arms now retreated to his knees, his tone remaining calm as he speaks to her. "Caves can be dark at night, easy to make mistake shadows for something else," he says, suggesting that what it was might not have been reality, but just in her mind.

"You think I'm crazy?" She scoffs, shaking her head as she stands up on shaky legs, trying to find her footing on the uneven courtyard ground. Her voice is sharp, defensive, but there's a hint of bitterness to it as she speaks.

“No,” He sighs as he stands with her, his knees cracking at the movement. “I think you’re tired and hurt. You should go rest, look after yourself. I’ll come find you when you’re feeling better, make sure you’re okay?” He tucks his hands into his jacket pocket, shifting on his feet and she slowly nods.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” She seems to give up when she acknowledges his comment, her shoulders slumping as if she's completely given in to the idea and that she might just be imagining things. She begins to turn away from him without saying another word.

She stops however, turning back to the detective as a look of curiosity and confusion spreads on her face, the wheels turning in her mind as she puts her experience in the cave together. She lets her thought linger, her voice a whisper as she speaks up again.

"I may be crazy or imagining things, but the same clicking we hear at night, it was in the cave too. Don't you think that's strange?"

The detective remains in the courtyard as she leaves, the sound of the clicks a lingering thought. The detective's fingers trail over his chin, thinking about the noise he's both heard himself last night and the occupants of the manor mention.

What is this damn clicking sound?

10:28am

Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclick, thump. Click.

The sound is loud, almost ghostly as the detective stands in the darkened cellar, his hands on his hips, his foot tapping in thought. It's as if something is calling to him, wanting him to pay attention to something hidden in the shadows.

The clicking seems to be coming from below him, from underneath the floor of the cellar, but there is no sign of a room beneath it. The clicking continues, faint but loud, the sound almost haunting as it echoes throughout the small, dark room. The detective shifts his stance, his eyes trying to pierce the darkness, and his hands reaching down to feel the floor in hopes of finding the source of the sound.

He had found a floor plan of the manor tucked away in Dr. Lewis’ study after leaving the courtyard. The underground level is fairly small, consisting of the staff kitchen, laundry room, storage room, cellar and an old boiler room.

No signs of a tucked away staircase, hidden room or ladder of any kind.

There is, however, the boiler room he found locked. On the map, there are two connecting rooms. The boiler room and an unmarked secondary room.

The detective pulls out his small notepad, scribbling on the paper a reminder to ask either the girl or one of the staff where he can find a key to the room.

His neck snaps towards the roof of the cellar, a loud terrified scream coming from the levels above. His blood runs cold, he knows that scream. Over decades as a detective, Joel has heard countless types of screams. From a child screaming over dropped ice cream, to the extreme of someone screaming for their life.

This one stands out from the rest, the sheer terror and desperation in it causing his heart to skip a few beats.

Her scream.

He drops his notebook without giving it a second thought, his legs automatically carrying him out of the room before he even has time to think. His boots are loud on the concrete floors as he sprints through the corridor and towards the stairs, his steps quick as he runs up them. He pushes the door at the top of the stairs open with his shoulder as he bursts through it, the door slamming against the wall from the force of his momentum, the sound echoing loudly as it does.

Her screams grow more desperate, and he turns towards the sound.

Upstairs.

“Get off her!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You’re hurting her! Stop!”

He doesn’t know what lies waiting for him upstairs, the unknown almost paralysing as the terrified scream echoes above him. His pulse is pounding in his body as it races through his veins, his heartbeat quickening with every step he takes, his mind focused solely on the screams as they echo throughout the entire house. He pulls his gun from its holster, unsure of what lies ahead but prepared for the worst.

A sound that will haunt him like the others.

He kicks open the large wooden doors, her screams loud on the other side.

The detective freezes.

She’s on the floor, her back to him as she tries to scramble backwards. She cries as she slips in fright, her head hitting the floor.

Mia screeches, her eyes widening in hunger as she grabs her leg and tugs. Her jaw clamps shut, almost as if she’s trying to bite the girl. Mia seems different, feral. Her eyes are no longer filled with fear, but with hunger. It’s as if a switch has flipped inside of her, and she has turned into something else entirely.

Alexander hits Mia over the head with a wooden stick, broken off from a chair. Mia screeches once more, a sound almost animalistic and not human but the impact causes her no harm.

Mia’s hand reaches up towards the girl and before she has a chance to touch her again, a bullet hits her shoulder.

Her head snaps towards the detective as he stands in the doorway, his gun aimed at her. She screeches, scrambling to her feet.

“What the fuck.” The detective swears in shock. She should be in pain from the bullet. He watches as the blood seeps from her as she stands hunched over, her breathing laboured. There’s a high pitch angry screech before she sprints in the direction of Joel. The girl forgotten.

He shoots Mia again, this time in the leg but she only flinches as she runs erratically towards him.

He pulls the trigger on the gun, the shot ringing out loudly in the room as the bullet hits her face in the middle of her forehead. Her body twitches in shock, dropping to the ground like a rag doll as his shot makes contact with her. The sound of the gun echoes in the room, and the silence that follows seems even louder as he watches her fall to the ground.

She lies there, motionless on the ground, the detective taking in the sight of her form for a few moments, staring at her blankly. He wonders what might have caused this to happen to her, whether it was some form of fucked up rabies or something else entirely. He remains frozen in place for a few seconds before he reaches out with his foot to prod her body, checking to make sure she's dead.

What attacked her last night?

A broken sob snaps him out of his stare, the detective's attention now refocused on the girl. He tucks his gun back in its holster and strides with haste towards the other girl, concern evident in his actions as he moves quickly towards her.

She's pressed herself against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she experiences a state of panic. Her breathing is quick and shallow, her eyes darting around the room for something to explain what just happened, but she's unable to find a clear explanation for it.

He drops to his knees beside her, reaching out for her but retracting his hand quickly as he realises he might startle her. He looks down at her, taking in the sight of her body carefully, his eyes scanning every inch of her for signs of injury.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, almost panicked himself.

Her head turns, her eyes staring into his with fear, before her bottom lip starts to twitch, her body beginning to tremble. She falls apart in front of him, his heart shattering at the sight, as he watches the pain and fear she feels take over her.

Joel settles next to her as she cries, his fists clenching as her emotions take over and he struggles not to be able to hold her, to comfort her as she cries. The urge to reach out for her is strong, the urge to hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay tearing at his heart. He watches as she weeps, his eyes filled with concern and a small hint of sadness as the girl lets her emotions overwhelm her.

Her hand grips onto his sleeve, tugging him closer as she presses herself into his side, gripping onto him as if her life depended on it. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, finally pulling her closer to him as he does so. He can feel her trembling violently now, and his grip tightens around her as if he's trying to offer her some comfort in the form of his touch. His other hand settles on her head, gently holding it close to him.

"You're okay sweetheart, you're okay." He whispers softly, his voice gentle and caring as he holds her close and softly rocks her, attempting to offer her comfort and support in words as he tries to soothe her.

Her hand grips onto his shirt, and he feels her tears stain as the emotion pours from her, but he doesn't find himself caring in the slightest. He doesn't mind being stained with her tears, it's the least he can do to help her. He lets her grip his shirt as she sobs, his body becoming stained by her tears as he comforts her, his own hand wrapping behind her head as her head nuzzles into his chest. The feeling of her body pressed against him warm and comforting, soothing his own fear.

"What the hell was that?" Alexander swears, his voice a rough and harsh whisper as he stands across the room, looking down at the body of Mia. The blunt wooden stick still gripped tightly in his hands, staring at her as the pool of blood expands around her. His own shock overwhelming him as he stands there.

“I want you to go find Eliza, make sure she’s alright,” Joel instructs him, trying to keep him busy with a task to keep his mind from wandering to the body of Mia.

Alexander takes his eyes off Mia, looking down at the detective holding the girl close and comforting her, the girl sobbing into his chest. He frowns but seems to accept the situation at hand now and nods. "Yeah, yeah, I can go do that."

He turns and heads out the room, stepping over Mia’s body as he leaves.

Joel closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall as he holds her close to him, trying to calm down from the adrenaline rush. Her sobs have calmed in severity, but her body is still shaking slightly as she remains in his grip. He slowly rubs her back, and she seems to sink into his touch, her body relaxing in his arms.

He looks over at Mia again, but she's no longer his primary focus, his attention now turning to the girl in his arms. Now that her crying has subsided, he takes a long and careful look at her, the red watery eyes staring up at him from below. His hand covers the side of her face, his thumb making small and gentle movements that he hopes will be comforting to her, his gaze locked on with hers as he searches her eyes for any hints of her mental state.

“How about I take you to your room while I sort this out?” He proposes, his voice soft and gentle as he looks down at her.

She nods, her eyes wide and glued to his.

Protectprotectprotectprotect.

He starts to move her off of him to stand, to get her to start moving to a safer, cleaner environment. As he does, her body begins to panic again, her grip tightening on him as a reaction. He huffs a soft laugh in response, as if he expected this and is trying to keep the tension light, “Come on, I gotta get up honey.”

She pushes her face into his chest, burying it there as she holds onto him again for comfort. Her body is shaking again, her breath coming in quick and shallow breaths as she begins to panic again, her grip tightening once more on his clothes.

He sighs, realising that there's no point in arguing with her, that she's going to want to cling onto him no matter what. So instead, he acknowledges her need and offers her the comfort of being carried, a way to move her away from the horror and trauma that she's just endured. He knows the answer is going to be yes, but he asks it anyway just to make her feel as though she has some sort of choice or say in the matter.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Want me to carry you, sweetheart?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

She nods into his chest.

Protectprotectprotectprotect.

“Can you let go for a second, so I can stand up.” As he speaks, he feels her shake her head, but he hushes her. “Just for a second sweetheart, I’ll be right here, I promise. Not going anywhere.”

He waits until she gives his question a slight nod, her grip loosening as he takes hold of her hand and gently moves her off of his body. She's still trembling slightly, but she's not holding onto him with the same intensity as she was before, and she allows him to help her stand up despite the fear.

“Come on, lift your legs, I got you.” He grunts, shifting her weight to a more favourable position as he picks her up, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist as she clings to him, her arms latching around his neck as she buries her face into his neck, wanting to feel as close as possible to him in her state of distress.

Protectprotectprotectprotect.

She's pressed tightly against him, her body clinging to him and moulding against his, and it takes every ounce of self-control in him to not think about the way she feels pressed against him. The way it feels right, the way it feels... like she belongs pressed so closely against him. Like this is where she should be, against him, in his arms.

The bed is just a few steps away, her bedroom door open as he walks through carefully, not wanting to disturb her space. When they get to the bed, he sets her down on top of the covers, making sure she's comfortable and secure. He wants her to feel as safe as possible after what just happened, and this is where she should be. Her bedroom, her bed, her safe space.

He looks down at her ripped socks, her blood-stained dress, and a frown spreads across his face. He kneels at her bedside and he feels her watching him carefully as he lifts her leg, placing her foot on his thigh as he begins to carefully remove her torn socks.

He places the socks on the bed beside her as he stands up, then nods towards her dress. "You should get changed."

She remains still, her eyes glued to his own, her face blank, emotionless. It's as though she's frozen in place, unable to respond to his words. He watches her closely, his eyes flicking between her unresponsiveness and the stained dress before he repeats himself.

Nothing.

He sighs with a nod. “Alright.”

He slowly moves his hands towards her, keeping his pace gentle and slow so she has ample time to respond or voice any objections to his actions. She remains quiet, her gaze locked onto his own.

He stands between her legs, the situation now mirroring back to what happened last night. This time it's not for fun, not for his own pleasure, not for anything except for necessity. He softly orders her to put her arms up.

She lifts her arms up and allows him to tug the stained dress up and over her head, the stained material sliding off of her. Once the dress has been removed, he folds it up and places it next to the socks before he looks back down at her, his gaze once more meeting hers.

He tells himself he’s checking for injuries as he looks further down her body.

Softsoftsoftsoft.

His eyes flick over to the other side of the room, to the neatly folded pyjamas on the chair, waiting for her. He takes them, placing them on the bed beside her.

She doesn’t move.

He takes her hand and gently tugs her to her feet. He kneels in front of her again, looking up at her as she stares back down at him, his gaze softening as he looks up at her and sees the adoration in her eyes.

Joel reaches for the pants, so soft in his calloused hands. His hand wraps around her ankle, helping her stand into her pants. Once both feet are in, he slowly pulls the material up her legs until the waistband sits snug on her waist.

His hands don’t linger, his thumb definitely doesn’t feel her soft skin like the night before. She doesn’t shiver under his touch.

Joel has always been too good at lying to himself.

He stands, his hands still on her waist as he towers over her, a few inches taller than her. She's looking up at him as if she's mesmerized, fascinated, intrigued.

Smallsmallsmallsmall.

His hands leave her as he guides her arms through the sleeves of her shirt, adjusting it and making sure it's sitting correctly before he turns his attention to her buttons.

He pulls each and every button through the little holes, closing the shirt around her form, keeping it away from his sinful eyes. His fingers fumble with the small and delicate buttons, frowning in concentration as he pulls each one through, paying extra attention and focus to making sure each one goes into the right hole.

He adjusts the collar, flattening it out and fitting it properly around her neck, ensuring that it sits softly and comfortably against her skin. His hands still on her shoulders as he gazes down at her. "There, all dressed." his voice soft and gentle.

He gently guides her back to the bed, easing her to sit down before she crawls into the middle of the bed, back against the pillows and stuffed animals surrounding her.

"I should probably leave, call the local police," Joel states, his voice soft and gentle. He averts his eyes away from her, turning to leave the room.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Joel's heart aches as he hears her small and broken voice for the first time since the incident, that tiny little plea of hers for him not to leave her. He turns back, the guilt and sadness welling in his chest as he takes in her image, her state, and her desperate voice. Something inside of him breaking for just a moment as his gaze falls on every inch of her, from the blood-stained dress at the end of the bed, to the little stuffed animals surrounding her, to her broken and pleading voice.

“Yeah, I can stay sweetheart.”

Joel moves towards the desk chair, but she shakes her head, patting the spot beside her on the bed.

He sighs in defeat.

Joel sits at the end of the bed, untying his boots and leaving them on the floor as he stands. He tugs his shoulder harness and holster from his body, laying it on the chair before he moves once more back to the bed, to her.

He sits on the edge beside her before she tugs on his shirt, and he laughs at her impatience. “Alright, alright.” He laughs, giving in to her impatient tug upon his shirt, before moving to sit beside her on the bed, his back against the soft pillows and stuffed animals. He takes hold of her hand and gently squeezes it, the simple gesture meant to offer comfort and reassurance, to promise that he won't leave her side.

She moves quickly, moulding her body to his side, wrapping her leg around his and her arm around his torso as she buries her head against his chest. She settles there, cheek on his chest, pressing her body against him tightly. Her breathing slowly begins to return to a normal pace as she feels the comfort of his presence.

His hand settles back on her head, softly petting and playing with her hair as he speaks quietly to her, his voice soft and gentle. "You just needed a hug, huh?" he huffs, a soft chuckle in his voice as he speaks.

She tightens her hold on him as she closes her eyes.

Protectprotectprotect.

12:29pm

The detective slams the phone down, anger and frustration coursing through his body, before his eyes spot the closest thing to him, a glass cup. With a violent, explosive motion, he grasps the cup with his hand and hurls it across the room, glass shattering as it crashes against the wall. His hands then gripping tightly to the back of a chair as he leans over it, letting out a sound of frustration, as if he wants to destroy everything around him.

The local police were no help. He called them to inform them of the altercation, to explain what happened. They were very quick to agree to pick up the body but refused to cooperate any further.

He wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the body after it gets transported to the morgue.

"Fuck this," he mutters to himself before stomping back up the steps to the crime scene. His anger is still at an all-time high, rage boiling up inside of him as he marches back up the stairs, intent on finding out more answers about what happened and why.

Mia’s body - thankfully - is still lying face down in her own blood.

He tugs his gloves over his hands, his anger still simmering. He carefully pushes Mia on her back, the body now exposed once more, giving him a full view. He takes in the sight, takes in the wounds and injuries that the victim had endured, both from himself and whatever attacked her last night.

He notes the change in Mia’s hair, how it is now thinner, duller in colour and texture. How when he reaches up to touch it, clumps of hair fall out as though plucking strands of cotton candy. The changes in her appearance and condition clearly something that catches his attention.

How interesting.

Her skin, once a rosy and healthy shade, is now pale and sickly, as if all life and energy had been sucked out of it. The skin is also moulted and covered in lesions. The detective's face scrunches up in disgust as he touches the skin, feeling the texture and the condition of the flesh beneath his fingertips is enough to bring about his disgust.

It doesn’t feel human.

He remembers the bruise that he saw on her shoulder this morning, but he didn't get a chance to take a closer look at it. Pushing the collar of the shirt aside shows the large animal bite. The bite itself is red and black in appearance, infected and inflamed, the flesh around the edge of the bite having rotted and turned black.

He crouches down beside the body, his face twisting in even greater disgust as he leans in for a closer look at the rotting bite, hoping to gain more insight into what could have inflicted the injury and caused her to behave the way she did.

“Huh?” Joel huffs as he spots a tooth wedged into the bite.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

Joel turns away from the body at the sound of Alexander's voice, the detective raising a curious eyebrow as he gazes over at the man. But he doesn't take his eyes off of the body for long, his gaze shifting back to the body of the victim as he turns his head to look back at Mia.

“Neither should you.”

“Touché.” He shrugs as he moves to stand beside the detective. “What are you doing?”

"If you're going to just stand there and bother me, could you at least get me some tweezers?" the detective glares up at the man, demanding something to better occupy his busy hands. The man rolls his eyes before leaving the room, searching for tweezers to appease the detective. After a moment, he returns and hands him the tool.

"Wasn't so hard, was it," the detective murmurs, annoyance in his voice as he accepts the tweezers from Alexander. He leans back over the body, using the tweezers to ease the tooth from the bite, gently removing it.

“That’s fucking disgusting.” Alexander mutters, taking a couple steps back away from the detective, his body heaving from the sight as he reaches for the side of the wall, taking a deep breath before dry retching.

The detective ignores the man and his dramatics, instead bringing the tooth closer to his eyes, inspecting the tooth closely, inspecting the colour, the shape, the markings, and even the texture with the utmost attention.

How interesting.

A human tooth.

Click here for Chapter three

Notes

yall i went feral over this. JOEL DRESSING READER okay on a serious note, a first glance at what is haunting the manor and its surrounds! I really enjoyed writing this chapter - a lot - so i hope yall like it too!

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

tags: @jupiter-soups @lollabear

#joel miller #the last of us #joel tlou #joel fanfic #joel x reader #tlou #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel x you

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merry-the-cookie · 6 years

Photo

there was a lot of stuff about the lighting in the first version that bugged me so i fixed it

im leaving the other one up since it was an ask reply but i wanted to post this one since i prefer it! heres the png

#tree bros #convan #deh #connor murphy #evan hansen #dear evan hansen #my art #feels good to. fix something #thank u for being patient with me #sorry im still not uhhhhh talking to anyone #it just feels a little overwhelming right now #listen its 5am and i just had a huge breakdown bc i thought id lost my usb key #which. big fucking deal tbh i would fucking kermit if id really lost it #everything sucks and i want to sleep forever but at least i fixed this #i didnt leave it to be smtg im half satisfied with and frustrated i wouldnt ever change it and make it reach my standards #and right now it feels like a victory #small victories right #goodnight

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nakedmossy · 3 years

Text

Golden Hour ☼

A Triple Frontier Story - Part 1/?

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Molly [reader] has been living on the beaches of Mexico for the last 3 years since being honourably discharged from the army and leaving her fiance back in Texas. Riddled with PTSD, she went on a bender, ending up in a small coastal farming town in the Yucatan. Forced into early retirement despite being the best sniper in her company and all the trauma that came with that responsibility, she has worked hard to obtain peace in her new life. She was closer than ever to fully achieving it, that is, until her ex-crew member and lifelong friend, Will Miller, showed up with a proposition to bring her out of retirement for one last job with the boys. -----------------------------

The sun was hovering around the horizon, beating down on the beach as the water lapped the shore. You rolled the dirty cup around in the dishwater absentmindedly, scrubbing the dried coffee off the sides, letting your hands soak. It had been an easy day, a 5am rise for a morning surf, a bike ride to the market to pick up some fruit, and a mid day Dive to a wreck site with some tourists. All-in you had pocketed around $50, including tips, and a complimentary phone number from the bachelor who had tried to frisk you while you filled the tanks on the dock. It would get you enough food to last through to the weekend, and if it didn't, well, you could always call the bachelor tourist for dinner.

You were caught up in a daydream when you heard something rolling in through the bush, the sounds of the studded tires reverberating off of the rock and palm trees, the sand and jungle brush cracking and moving, the dull hum of the engine. You tipped your head closer to the window over the sink to see a slick black motorbike come to a stop near your hitch, a large muscular figure hooking his helmet on the handlebar before jumping off and walking towards your trailer door. Your hand hovered over the sidearm you kept loaded on your kitchen counter.

“Hey Sweet Cheeks” The voice shouted, the silhouette keeping its arms and hands visible.

Your stomach dropped. No way. The voice belonged to the boy who had pinched your ass as a kid, annoyed your ass as a teen, saved your ass as a new recruit in the army, and more than once grabbed your ass at the bar while you squeezed your ass into a tight dress. You froze for a moment before you looked out your window and saw him standing at your trailer door, waiting.

You opened it abruptly, swinging it hard enough that it hit the side of the trailer with a loud clank. You kept your arm out to keep it wide, surveying the sight in front of you with a shocked expression, your chest rising and falling in shallow, tight breaths of disbelief. He did the same, his eyes travelling up from your bare feet, along your tanned legs, to your jean shorts and your braless tank top, all the way to your shaded eyes.

“Will Miller” You spoke, his name like a muscle memory in your mouth. “What the fuck are you doing here.”

You took three long seconds before you smiled, then you practically jumped out of your trailer and into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist, laughing uncontrollably in surprise and excitement. He squeezed you tight, one hand around your hips, the other on the back of your head, compressing you into his muscular frame. He let out a low growl of contentment while he nuzzled his head into your hair.

“Good to see you Molly” He mumbled.

You squeezed him with as much strength as you could muster before he let you slide down, your feet hitting the sand below. You brought a hand up to shade your eyes, the sun beaming directly in your eyes from behind his shoulder. You knew his face like the back of your hand, you had grown up with it chasing after you with spiders and nerf guns, then spent 10 years in active service being chased by cockroaches and real guns. You hadn’t seen him since you moved to Mexico.

“What are you doing here, man!” You laughed, you couldn’t stop smiling. He hadn’t changed at all, aside from a few new laugh lines around his mouth. His smile was reserved as usual, but unabashed.

“Oh, you know….I was in the area” He winked and looked around, snickering. Your end of the beach was cut off to tourists and hardly even accessible to locals. You weren’t even sure how they got a trailer there in the first place. It was as visibly remote as you could get in the Yucatan these days.

“How did you…find me here?” You watched him watching you closely, like he was looking for something.

“A local kid working at the market. I asked for directions to the little local Turkey with yellow hair and he practically drove me here himself.” He grinned with mischief and dodged my hand as I smacked him. “He seemed to know who I was, too.” He looked at you expectantly, which made you giggle to yourself.

Your friends son, Erik, was one of the few kids who spoke clean English and visited often. You had helped him with his math tests last year and he had agreed to cut you firewood for a year. He had seen the picture of you and your crew in your trailer and demanded stories around the fire every time he came by. He asked about Will the most.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.” You said, stricken with shock again and unable to gather yourself. “Whats it been…2, 3 years?”

“2 years and 5 months” Will said quietly, smiling at you. “You look younger somehow”

“Yeah, well, that’s the tequila and the saltwater for ya. Stick me back in Iraq and strap a rifle on my chest, ill age 10 years in front of your very eyes”

Will nodded with a knowing smile and looked around, checking out your decaying trailer and old truck, his eyes settling on the boat overturned on the beach, which you were in the midst of patching and doing engine maintenance on.

You shared a quiet moment together, taking each other in, before he smiled again and open his arms for another hug. “Come’ere kid”

He squeezed you again and this time found your butt, pinching it.

“Fucki-OUCH” You wailed, pulling away and smacking his chest. He laughed like a little boy and bounced away a step, stretching his arms and sighing, relaxed.

“So,” You said after a few moments of silence, before stepping back and pacing in a half circle once. “You want a drink?”

He smiled at you and you felt your head spin. It was the same familiar smile he used to give you when you were kids and you couldn’t reach something or you needed his help lifting something. Not patronizing, just…pleasantly amused.

“Yeah, a drink would be nice.”

“Grab a chair, i’ll be right back” You motioned to the seats surrounding the fire pit that was on the edge of the sand. He turned and walked towards them and you felt your chest tighten. You could never calm down when he was around, staring at you, his physical presence was overwhelming. Even still, after all this time. After everything that had happened in the war, your breath caught when he smiled.

When you came back out with two glasses of bourbon, neat, he had his feet perched toe to heel and was leaning back, enjoying the view of the ocean.

“Pretty okay view to wake up to” You said, handing him his drink. You saluted each others glasses and he smiled, looking back out at the water.

“Unreal. I wouldn’t leave.”

“I don’t” You winked.

“So how did you end up here anyways” He took a drink and savoured it, balancing the glass on the armrest.

You took a long, deep breath and leaned back in your chair before exhaling quickly and looking around.

“I came down after Pete and I.…after I left. He took the house, I took…my shit, and I split.” You laughed bitterly, rubbing your eyebrow. “I don’t know. I went rogue for a bit and woke up here one morning after a bender, just never left.”

Will was quiet for a few moments, considering what you said, before speaking.

“Did things end badly - with Pete?” He was watching you intently.

You held his gaze boldly, amidst your discomfort regarding the topic, your face a blank canvas.

“No” You lied, forcing a smile.

His eyes narrowed slightly but he looked back at the water and took another drink.

“What’re you doing to make money?”

“Lots. Pole dancing, escorting. Selling drugs.”

You were mostly kidding about the last part, but you had sold a couple bags of weed to some of the local teenagers after you found out they were buying it from the cartel - trying to keep their names out of the streets as long as you could before they inevitably got recruited.

He was looking at you again, his face dark now, a shadow of the light hearted kid you had gone to prom with.

“Seriously, Mol. What are you doing down here.”

“Getting interrogated apparently. Calm down, Ironhead. Nothing illegal.” But when he didn’t budge you continued “Im a Dive Master, I take tourists out to some of the reefs every couple of days to pay the rent, and I help out at some of the farms on the off season.”

Half satisfied by your half answers he swirled his drink and took a sip.

“Enough about me, care to explain what you’re doing down here? Turning up at sundown like an old friend?” You watched him closely, observing his posture, noticing the hilt of his sidearm poking out the side of his t-shirt.

“Working” He said bluntly, returning your snarky smile with an equally shaded answer. “Recruiting.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you sat deeper in your chair, unbelieving how crassly he was owning up.

“Unbelievable. Just right down to business eh? You turn up here after 2 years, sorry, 2 years and 5 months and you don’t have the courtesy to wait 10 minutes before you pull this shit? No.” You said firmly. “No. Im retired."

He nodded, then leaned forward and downed the rest of his drink, placing the glass at his feet and resting his elbows on his knees. He watched you with such an intensity that you shifted in your seat and looked away.

“Mol, look at me.”

You sneered and looked at him, your hat shading your eyes from the setting sun, but barely.

“Its a 2 day job at most. 1 day and a single shot if we’re clean-”

“No” You cut him off, leaning forward to stand up.

“Its 5 million USD” He said quickly, stopping you from walking away. “Each.”

You took a deep breath and waited, considering sitting back down. You stayed standing. You tilted your head to the side and lifted your hand to your mouth.

“Who” You said quietly, not wanting to give him the impression you were seriously considering it.

“Juarez.”

You choked you had laughed so hard and so quick. You sat down abruptly on the edge of your chair, looking at him like he had two heads.

“No way. Not a chance. Are you kidding?”

He said nothing, just watched you and raised his eyebrows, the words ‘5 million’ written across his forehead like a banner. When it was clear he wasn’t joking you leaned forward, matching his posture, ducking your head down until you had his eyes squared with yours.

“Listen to me. There’s dangerous, there’s what we did in the army, and then there’s that.” You waited for a reaction that never came. You pressed on. “Will, I have been down here for 3 years. Living, working, fucking with these people. Juarez isn’t just a cartel boss who cuts fingers off and mails them to the victims kids on their birthdays. He systematically brings down monarchies. He beheads children. That man is a fucking monster.”

Will sat firm, his jaw set, not breaking eye contact. He was challenging you, as he had a million times before, only this time neither of you were in uniform and both of you had level playing ground. He wasn’t your superior officer, and you weren’t his sniper.

“We’ve dealt with worse.” He said finally.

You broke eye contact and looked at your bare feet planted in the sand, your tanned skin smooth and warm. No scars, no combat boots, no dust. Freedom. What you had worked for your whole life.

“Its 5 million, Mol. One target, one shot. Nothing more. Freedom for the rest of your life.”

“I already have that. Look around” You put your arms out, the whole of the beach and your paradise encapsulated in them, rage tickling under your skin. “5 million aint worth giving this up, 5 billion wouldn’t even be.”

He looked around and back at your trailer, at the rusting metal and the fraying tarps, before setting his gaze on your arm, on the scar that ran up it, and finally back to your eyes.

“Hows the Physio down here.” He said darkly. “Your off season farm job’s health insurance covering it?”

You flinched like he had hit you, your eye flickering as the memory of the bullet cutting through your arm and shattering the bone blazed like fire in your peripheries.

“Fuck you, Will.” You said finally, your voice cracking when you said his name. You stood up and pushed past him, walking towards your trailer. Subconsciously you held your arm and rubbed it, the phantom pain lingering. The deep and permanent damage had bothered you every day since you obtained the injury 6 years ago, on one of the last missions you had done with Will and the crew before they retired.

“Molly” Will grabbed your arm from behind, pulling you to a stop, and you winced. Not from pain, more from recognition. “Im sorry” He said intently, his eyes searching yours.

“I can’t” You said finally, your posture strong and your eyes set. You were still muscular and built like you were in active duty, but so was Will. “Even if I wanted to - I can’t.”

Will took a step closer, his breath almost on your face now.

“Why not” He pushed.

“Because” You spit back at him “I can’t use a scope. Or Binoculars. My heads fucked up.”

Wills eyebrows knit together and he looked over your head with his gaze, face taught with confusion.

“What’you mean?”

You shrugged and licked your bottom lip, looking away from his prying eyes.

“I had an accident a few years ago. I got a concussion that fucked with my equilibrium, haven’t been able to use binoculars or a scope properly since.”

You took a breath and straightened your back, setting your jaw. If he was going to play hard ass, then so were you. Fuck his intimidation tactics, you had learned how to deal with those in elementary school. He would have to try harder.

“Service?”

You shook your head, your lips pursed.

“After I left”

“What happened?”

Your eye flickered again, the memory of Pete attacking you and knocking you down a flight of stairs, your head cracking off the banister, still as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

“I fell.”

Will, visibly agitated now, shifted his weight to his other foot. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know, probably because I didn’t expect you to come down here and try to recruit me to whack the leader of my neighbourhoods biggest cartel?”

“Mol, im your friend, you shou-“ He started, but you backed up, shaking your head.

“Oh yeah? And where have you been? Last time I checked a prerequisite for friendship was checking in once in a fucking blue moon.”

Will bared his teeth in frustration and took a deep breath, looking down at his feet with his hands on his hips.

“Was it Pete?”

You didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Will’s hands covered his face and he groaned audibly, rubbing them into his hair in frustration.

“Molly. I have like 5 minutes left in me before I pull the fuse line to your propane, light a match, and drag your ass out of here on the back of my fucking bike. Come for drinks. Hear us out. Please.”

“Us?”

“They’re all here, waiting at the bar.”

You shook your head, smiling bitterly. Of course they were.

“There are better soldiers out there. Better snipers out there. Go recruit one of them.”

“Not true. You never missed a shot.”

“I missed once” You started, your voice lowering reflexively. “And you know what shot I missed.”

He held your eyes as the memory lingered in the air between you, the sound of the bullet hitting the body of the child behind your target would be something you took to your grave. It haunted every minute of every day.

“Molly, come on. Look at you. You’re living in a dump trailer with a half broke boat and a fucking peddle bike. You’re better than this and you know it.”

“Im not better than shit. Don't feed me that 'we were warriors' crap. I was a girl who was good with a gun, and I killed people. And now i'm broken. Thats the truth."

“MOL, I NEED YOU-” He yelled now, his hand shaking. The outburst took you off guard and you stepped back, your face slack. Will grabbed his hand and rubbed it, turning around and sighing deeply before facing you again. “Molly, I need you to hear us out. Come have a drink in town, listen to Pope’s plan. Please.”

You were still on guard from his outburst but you closed your mouth, your eyes dropping to his hand, which still shook lightly. PTSD was a tricky motherfucker.

You blinked silently a few times before raising your eyes to his again, a silent moment of recognition passing between you. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t seriously asking for help, and the rest of the crew wouldn’t be waiting if there wasn’t already a good plan in place.

“They’re all here? Redfly?”

Will nodded, his jaw tight.

“Fine” You said then, swallowing your pride and knowing you would regret it. “One drink.”

“One drink” Will repeated, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“But Will,” You interrupted his budding smile and took a step so your faces were close again. “I wasn’t joking. Im not the shot I used to be. If we do the Recon and I tell you I can’t do it, that’s it. Im out. Full stop.”

Will blinked a few times as his eyes drifted down your face to your mouth and back up, his eyebrow twitching.

“I understand, Mol” was all he replied.

----

#triple frontier #charlie hunnam #will miller #benny miller #frankie morales #santiago garcia #garrett hedlund #pedro pascal #will ironhead miller #will miller x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier boys #oscar isaac

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pseudo-lily · 4 years

Text

I DID A THING? I had a lot of fun writing this after I actually started, but I dont like the end result that much? Im sticking with the thought that Epel just wants what’s best for everyone, even if means lying to their face. Its 5am why am i writing this aa - im not sure if these count as headcanons, but i wrote them with the intention of them being headcanons, so into the hc tag they go

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

He is dark chocolate and coffee in the early morning ; bitter, but tolerable, so long as you like the taste. - I see him as one who enjoys sweets, as long as they’re not overbearingly sweet. Fruits and snacks are a very big thing to him, as long as they’re also visually pleasing. I imagine he had a very strict diet as a child, being raised as an heir to the throne, and was hardly allowed sweets. Now that he’s older, he’s just about as strict as his parents, but has no time to do and eat what he wants. Snacks on crackers and cookies, and fruits a lot ; hasn’t had an actual meal in a while. Probably had a stunted growth, let's be honest.

EPEL FELMIER

Honey and pressed flowers. He is sugared milk at midnight. - I see Epel as a liar, to an extent. His body kicked into self-preservation mode as a child, and never really came out of that. He tells people what they want to hear ; he was the peace-keeper, possibly an elder sibling. This is not to say that he won't give out the blunt truth if the situation calls for it. He’s not exactly the nicest person, but he had the right idea in mind, at some point. - I like to believe that Rook has caught onto this, and manipulates Epel into saying the truth, be It asking the same question until Epel changes his answer, or twisting both Epel’s and his own words to get the truth out of him. Not the best way to fix what he sees as an issue, but it seems relatively effective.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

He is a rapid water. Soothing and cooling, up until you fall in. - Azul is greedy; he takes and takes, and never quite seems satisfied, if only for a little while. He is composed and level headed, he takes his time to analyze situations. He has the answers to seemingly everything, and is more than willing to share his secrets, his answers. To the outside eye, he is charming, the perfect gentleman. But not everyone notices everything. The lingering stares from one or two students at a time; the one’s he ruined, the one’s he’s not done with. Because he wholeheartedly believes everything comes with a price, and it’s more than some are willing to give, in the long run.

#twisted wonderland headcanons #headcanons #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #epel felmier #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland riddle #twisted wonderland epel #twisted wonderland azul

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sheriffofmagic · 4 years

Note

Im always a big slut for hurt/comfort, so if you made it Vang0Chainz I would perish. Also Burger Chainz trying to enculture Vang0Bang0 by having a movie marathon that turns into a sleepover. Also what if Burger knew Vang0 before he lost his memory but promised Vango that he'd never tell him who he was before. im also tipsy lol im jus throwing spaghetti places. i love your blog btwww

I was going to go to sleep but i saw this ask and had to start writing immediately (must have some weird dumb pavlovian response to vang0chainz) anyway this is super dumb hopefully, maybe you’ll enjoy it. it’s almost 5am and i didnt proofread this so its definitely a huge mess but uhhhhh here’s the trash you ordered

---

“Will you stop fussing?” Vang0 says, snappier than he intended.

Burger Chainz pulls back from where he’d been inspecting Vang0’s hurt shoulder, a mix of hurt and embarrassment on his face.

“It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been shot,” Vang0 continues, “at least… I don’t think it is. Muscle memory or somethin’. Anyways, I mean it. I’m fine. And you hovering over me like I’m about to drop dead isn’t helping.”

Vang0’s not fine, obviously. He’s been shot which, muscle memory or not, stings like a bitch and more than anything makes him mourn for his jacket which there is no salvaging from the burn marks. A shame really, the chrome color had nearly matched that of his hair. He’d been thinking of turning it into his signature look, perfect for merchandising. Oh well. He wasn’t dead so that was a plus of sorts....

They were at Vang0 and Burger’s place (technically Vang0’s but Burger was there so often the distinction hardly felt necessary anymore) and, aside from the bullet wound, this was a pretty typical Saturday night. The TV providing a low din of noise to fill the empty spaces of whatever inane conversation was taking place between the two of them. Tonight was more tense than usual. Vang0 Bang0 was not a strong man. High charisma, low constitution. All that. Hiding pain wasn’t exactly in his repertoire but ignoring it? That he might be able to manage, especially if it stopped his massive cyborg friend from pulling the kicked puppy look for the next couple of hours.

Night City wasn’t exactly known for it’s premium broadcasting, most nights after midnight channels tended to switch to the same things. Classics. Vang0 didn’t care much for it, looking back at the past, even the fictional past, wasn’t really his thing. Burger Chainz, though, Burger Chainz loved them. Tried to hide it, Vang0 knew, but he’d referenced them often enough that Vang0 picked up. Vang0 was observant like that, even though he pretended not to be.

All this to say, it was after midnight, Vang0 was the one in pain, and yet Burger looked like he was the one on the verge of a breakdown. Vang0 took pity on him, the kind he only indulged in when the streams were turned off and the hour was late and he could pretend he and Burger were just normal friends, “What’s this one about again?”

Burger looks startled for a moment then glances briefly between the TV and Vang0, “Uhh, it’s a rom-com. He’s emailing another kid from his school but he doesn’t know who it is.”

Vang0 bites back a sardonic comment about how if this kid really wanted to know who his secret admirer was he could cross reference the dialogue patterns and… yeah maybe he can see why he’s not the most fun person to watch movies with and- oh. Burger is still talking.

“-things were different back then, ya know? People weren’t so… nice.”

Vang0 laughs, “You think people are nicer now?”

He gestures to the wound in his shoulder and Vang0 rolls his eyes (Eye? Can monochrome robotic eyes roll?) “Well, not bad folks maybe. Criminals still aren’t great. Prone to violence and all that. But normal people? Yeah I think they’re better.”

“Well aren’t you optimistic.”

Without missing a beat Burger replies with a wry smile, “Well, I have to be don’t I? With you around. Gotta cancel out that negative energy.”

Burger goes back to watching the TV, a slight uptick in the corners of his mouth. Vang0 can only look at him half dumbstruck, half distracted by the pain (getting shot really does hurt).

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Burger Chainz glances toward him, unsure, “Mean no offense. Just- you kind of assume the worst. About situations. ‘Bout people. Sometimes, even ‘bout yourself, if it’s not outta line to say.”

“It is.”

“Okay.” An awkward silence. Punctuated by the sounds of the film, too loud to be filling this space. This isn’t the conversation Vang0 wanted to be having. Not now. Not ever, if he could help it.

“How is it wrong for me to assume the worst? Huh? People do the worst all the time. We see it every day. You see the world we live in? You want me to be optimistic here? After everything I’ve gone through?”

Burger finally looks away from the screen, for once there’s no tension in his brow, only sureness. “I don’t want you to be anything other than yourself but goin’ through life thinking every shadow is out to get ya isn’t much of a way of livin’.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of all people that I have good reason to be distrustful.”

“You don’t. I-” he sighs, “I just wish you’d be willing to things as more than just black and white.”

“Oh forgive me if I’ve had some encounters,” he gestures to his shoulder, “that paint Night City in a bad light.”

Burger hesitates, “Does it hurt?”

“Obviously.”

“Right…”

They lapse into silence again, both of them staring at the screen but Vang0 can tell from the rigid set of Burger’s shoulders that he’s not really paying attention. He’s too on edge.

It’s not until after the emotional turning point of the film that Burger Chainz breaks the silence. The kid’s friends have all abandoned him, over something stupid Vang0 presumes despite not having paid much attention to what was going on. The kid was angry. Alone. And then the resolution starts and he’s so not alone anymore.

“It can’t all be bad though, right?” Burger asks tentatively.

Vang0 raises an eyebrow at him though which he means to convey Uh well, it is. In case you forgot I was shot by a person in your dumb city just a few hours ago. But which Burger Chainz apparently interprets as… honestly Vang0 has no clue how that man’s mind works.

“I- I mean. It’s not all bad all the time. Aside from the getting shot thing. Not great.”

“Can’t forget the memory wipe.”

Burger’s eye darts around the room, “R-right that too but- But. It’s not all bad. I mean, it’s pretty bad but think about it. You have an apartment and your fans and a sorta job and Dasha and- and me.”

He pauses.

“And that can’t all be bad. I’m only sayin’- the whole world ain’t out to get you, only part of it.”

This shouldn’t be comforting. At all. It should be unsettling. It should make Vang0 want to laugh bitterly and spout some brilliant sardonic response about the world being a cruel place that doesn’t care about people like him. But the music in the movie has shifted to something more hopeful. But it’s the late hours of the night where things like hope are less dangerous to feel. But Burger is looking at him with a soft look in his eyes. Like he really believes what he’s saying, the sap, and like he wants Vang0 to believe it too. He doesn’t but for just a second, Vang0 wants to. He wants to believe in a world with gentleness, the one Burger seems to be able to see where no one else can.

He sighs. Not a defeat. Not an agreement because Vang0 never yields. But an acceptance.

Vang0 tries to release the tension from his shoulders as much as he can, schooling his face into something less jaded. If anyone deserves to believe the world isn’t all sharp edges it’s Burger.

He looks between Burger and the screen, “So do these kid’s friends suck or is that just me?”

There’s a flash of disappointment across Burger’s face, but he’s never been one to push especially not with Vang0. If he drops the subject, Burger will follow. The flash is gone in an instant and a small smile grows across Burger’s face, any residual tension drifting away with it.

“Definitely not just you, they suck. You might’ve missed it but earlier they-”

And he semi-listens to Burger re-explain the plot of the movie he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to but he finds it capturing him more now. His attention is locked somewhere between the play-by-play and the actions occurring on screen. It’s the resolution now and everything seems to be coming together just a little to easily. The friends are back and the school is welcoming and the crush is confessed and everything is wrapped up too neatly for Vang0 to feel satisfied. There’s still a panging ache in his shoulder. His head is still chattering away as it has been since he woke up. Still there is that faint voice urging him to pull away. To focus on what he’s good at and make content and be alone and convince himself that that is enough. But the volume is so low that the old pop tune playing over the credits doesn’t feel abrasive. Burger is leaning in towards him slightly, conspiratorially, as if talking about this dumb classic is as important as mission details. There’s a smile on Burger’s lips that reaches his eyes. And Vang0 is content, for this moment, to pretend that happy endings are enough.

#this is... bad #but i tried and that counts for something #i was t*psy when i started writing this and am no longer t*psy if that gives and perspective #answered #burgerbang0 #vang0chainz #Anonymous

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kredensik · 3 years

Text

tag game 50 q’s

got tagged by @silvermadi! thanks boo!

what is the color of your hairbrush? i dont have one! i shaved my head! no hair! freedom!

name a food you never eat: peas, brussels, kale

are you typically too warm or too cold? too warm, i run hot

what were you doing 45 mins ago? laying in bed, wondering if i can afford to skip my next class

what’s your favorite candy bar? white chocolate lion!

have you ever been to a professional sports game? nope!

what is the last thing you said out loud? “fuck”- me realising i cant, in fact, skip my next class

what is your favorite ice cream? lemon sorbet!

what was the last thing you had to drink? carrot, pineapple and orange smoothie

do you like your wallet? no, its too small, i need to buy a bigger one

what is the last thing you ate? sandwiches with hummus

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? nay

what’s the last sporting event you watched? uhhhh does ballet competitions on youtube count?

what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? salt n butter babey

who is the last person you sent a text message to? my bff about how i don't wanna go to my next class

ever been camping? once. never again.

do you take vitamins? i should be taking vit D i think but i don't

do you regularly attend a place of worship? nay

do you have a tan? yup i do.

do you prefer Chinese or pizza? oof i cant choose. im a poor student i consist on chinese and pizza

do you drink your soda through a straw? nope

what color socks do you usually wear? uhhh colorful. like i have a Lot of them

do you ever drive above the speed limit? i can't drive!.

what terrifies you? attachment

look to your left, what do you see? my wardrobe :).

what chore do you hate most? doing the dishes. ugh

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? the rabbit from rise of the guardians

what’s your favorite soda? cherry coke

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? depends if im with my close good friends

what’s your favorite number? 73

who’s the last person you talked to? my flatmate, we were out smoking yesterday

favorite cut of beef? no idea what that is

last song you listened to? Kids by Orville Peck

last book you read? finished? ugh, i read the Pearl for my class, and im in the middle of American Gods

favorite day of the week? i completely stopped differentiating between days of the week so. it was thursday? now its Day.

can you say the alphabet backwards? no too much focus required

how do you like your coffee? cappuccino or black with a lil milk

favorite pair of shoes? my BOOTS. my beautiful scuffed and dirty boots with metal toes!

time you normally get up? HA! bold of you to assume i have a sleep schedule! today i woke up at 5am! tomorrow? we may never know!

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? both pretty, buy sunrises are esp satisfying

how many blankets on your bed? one because the second one is currently occupied by my friend who’s perpetually cold.

describe your kitchen plates. white, easily breakable.

describe your kitchen at the moment. empty.

do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? quince vodka + coke

do you play cards? yea i learned in highschool to kill boredom

what color is your car? can't drive!

can you change a tire? nope!

your favorite state? i do not care for us geography.

favorite job you’ve had? haven't had one yet i could classify as favourite

tagging: @icantwritegood and @thevastnessof!

#tag game #szafka

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xsixxx · 5 years

Text

Bad Influence, Chapter Seven

Authors Note: Sorry I’m so bad at trying to get these out quickly, I’m working on it, I swear! This is a pretty long one for me & it’s deep so sorry if it’s a little bit boring! Once again, I’ve finished this at 5am so if there are mistakes/it’s incoherent I’m sorry, I’ll proof read it when I wake up 😂 Feedback always welcome!

Warnings: Language, super duper angsty, bit of childhood trauma, Beth & Nikki up to their usual shit

Tags: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples @queen-crue @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberribread @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @deaconsroger @zoenicoles @crazysaladchopshop @ggorehorror @lunamadhatter99 @justtryingtoovercome @chaoticvybe @you-know-im-a-dreamer @eightiesrockbaby @valentines-in-london @xrosegoldwolfx @fupatroopaa @lilypetite88 @this-blog-must-be-the-place @ashleecrue @lauravic @dark-princess99

(There’s like no appropriate gif for this I swear so just enjoy one of Nikki looking cute)

(P.s as much as I love Douglas Booth & I will use The Dirt gifs, I fully picture actual Nikki when I write this, just for a little context 👏🏼)

*Nikkis POV*

“So what do you say?”

Beth looked hesisitant, but she couldn’t hide the excitement that danced in her eyes as my question lingered in the fraction of a space between our lips. I couldn’t stop the smirk from creeping across my face as I sensed her self control slip for just a moment, her eyes darting to my lips. I could see her wrestling with that darker side of herself that wanted to give in & surrender herself to me

She bit her lip in a poor attempt at self-discipline & her doey brown eyes fixed back on mine with a look of delicious purity that made my leather pants a little tighter.

Fuck, I wanted to kiss her so badly.

But I wouldn’t give in, that was the point. It had to be all her.

Beth knew I was bad for her. As she stood there in front of me, I could tell that every logical part of her brain was screaming at her to walk away, to slap me, to yell at me, to do something to keep me away. She knew I was a bad guy, she’d witnessed it firsthand when I fucked that delectably naive little sister of hers & yet, here she stood, visibly battling with her temptation, a breath away from relinquishing her self control & throwing herself at me. She wanted to do something bad for the first time in her life, just to see how good it felt. And damn, I’d make her feel good.

I wanted to prove that I was right, all those many months ago when I first laid eyes upon her elitist, yet enticing self in that diner; that even good, smart girls like Beth could fall from Grace if they were tempted with the right promises. And she was so close to falling, balancing so delicately on the edge I’d lead her up to. But I wasn’t going to push her, I wanted to watch her jump.

But she took a step back; both from the edge & from me. A dark, confident smirk, not too dissimilar from my own, spread across her dainty features, as she found her self-control firmly back in her grasp. She ran her tongue over her lower lip before pulling it back in between her teeth & biting down on it, knowing full well how good she looked doing it & her voice when she spoke was calm & sultry, velvety smooth with a slight edge. In that moment, she had emulated everything that she hated about me & I couldn’t help but smile.

“I say thank you, but no.” She smirked, raidiating arrogance. “I know what you’re trying to do Nikki.”

“And what is it I’m trying to do, little Angel?” I asked, feigning innocence as best I could.

“I know you’re being the devil on my shoulder, trying to tempt me. And damn, your promises make me wanna sin Nikki,” she paused as she took a second to look me up & down, a gleam of desire in those eyes, “Fuck, they really do.” She confessed. “But I’m sorry, I’m just not one of those girls.”

I let a low chuckle. “Beth, I just watched you cum in the bathroom of your work whilst being fucked by the lead singer of my band not 10 minutes ago.”

She scowled at me, her eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance. “I can have casual sex without being one of those girls,” she nodded behind me & I turned to see a a couple of giggling girls at the bar, sipping drinks & trying to catch my attention, flashing flirty smiles my way as they caught me eye. I’d definitely fucked the one. Maybe both. I couldn’t quite recall. “I’m allowed to enjoy sex Nikki, just because it’s with Vince doesn’t make me a groupie. I’m not sleeping with him because he’s in your precious band, I’m sleeping with him because it’s fun & a girl has needs.” She shrugged, defensively.

“So how come you won’t let me satisfy those needs for you, if it doesn’t mean anything?” I grinned.

“Because Sixx, you’re not a good guy & nothing with you could ever just be simple. Look at how you hurt my sister, for Christ sake.” Beth sighed, completely in control once again, shutting off to my deviant corruption. “You’re trying to play a game with me that I’m just not interested in playing, ok?”

“You’re only not interested in my game because you’re shutting yourself off from the side of you that would enjoy playing with me.” I pushed, flashing her a wicked smile, hoping I could pull her back into our little sexually charged exchange, but I could sense from the look that she gave me that the moment was over.

Beth sighed deeply, a look of exhaustion & confliction mixed into her delicate features. Her eyes, full of pain I didn’t understand, met mine one last time before she turned away.

“Goodnight Sixx.”

*Beths POV*

I knocked on the large oak front door & tapped my foot nervously as I waited for an answer, a large sponge cake balanced on top of 2 boxes, wrapped in bright blue wrapping paper that had “happy birthday!” garishly printed all over it.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw my little sisters face emerge from behind the door. Between me moving out & Maddie starting college, we hardly saw anything of each other & I’d missed her more than I’d realised. A wide grin spread across her face as she flung out her arms & ran to me, throwing them around my neck as she hugged me tightly, causing the precariously balanced cake to wobble dangerously.

“Watch it!” I chuckled, pulling away from her grip to catch the cake before it fell. I looked at Maddie, her eyes bright & brimming with tears. “Are you crying?!” I exclaimed.

“I’ve just really fucking missed you Beth!” She laughed, wiping the tears away.

“Madeline, language.” Came the gruff, sharp voice of my father who appeared in the doorway.

“Happy birthday Daddy!” I grinned at the sight of him & walked through the door & putting down the boxes to give him a hug. He pulled me in warmly & I suddenly felt like a kid again, wrapped up safely in the arms of my father & my nerves melted away. He stepped back & looked me up & down, frowning slightly. I blushed, pulling at the hem of my tshirt, my nerves flaring up once again. I’d dressed as conservatively as possible, knowing dad would have something to say if he caught on to my current lifestyle of rockstars, whiskey & the occasional line of cocaine.

“What?” I asked, flustered.

My dad shook his head, his frown disappearing & replaced with a friendly, but cautious smile. “Nothing, nothing. I just thought something just seemed a little different about you, but its nothing.” He finished, sounding unsure before gesturing for us to move into the living room.

I sat down awkwardly on the same beat up sofa that me & Maddie used to build forts on when we were kids & looked around the room. My eyes scanned all the knick knacks & framed photographs that I’d seen a million times over the years & yet, the time away made it feel like I was seeing them through the eyes of an outsider, taking in every detail for the first time. The fireplace was littered with old photos of us as kids, at the beach or playing in the backyard; the faded smiles of a happy childhood. Dust was gathering on the out dated ornaments that were scattered on the various cabinets and coffee tables around the room & the floral wallpaper was looking washed out & old. I glanced across at the table that sat next to me & saw a familiar, heart-wrenching smile that immediately gave me a lump in my throat, too big to swallow.

My mothers kind eyes looked up at me from the ornate framed picture whilst my own instinctively filled with tears. I picked up the photo & gently rubbed my thumb over her face, only wishing I could feel her skin underneath my touch, rather than the cold glass, reminding me that I never would again. I blinked away the tears as I returned the photo back to its prized place on the table, looking back around the living room in search of a distraction. The decor hadn’t changed once in the 10 years since my mom died, almost as if my father was trying to honour her memory by keeping her furniture & trinkets in the same place she had once carefully picked for them. He was treasuring her belongings as she once had, rather than letting them, & her, go.

He tried to do something similar with me & Mads, I thought to myself.

“How’re you doing Daddy?” I asked, suddenly painfully aware of my father now living alone in this unintentional shrine of a house.

“Oh you know, its quiet since you pair left, but I’m coping.” He said, giving us a forced smile. “What about you, are you still working in that hellish bar?”

I rolled my eyes at his judgement & disapproval, it never took long. “Yes Daddy, it pays the rent, remember?”

“I know, I know, I just hate the thought of you working in that sort of environment, surrounded by those kinds of people.” He huffed, shaking his head at the idea of me in the exact situation I was currently in. But I was the sensible one, there’s no way in his worst, most invasive thought, my dad could imagine me heading down the path I was currently on. Hell, I couldn’t believe it sometimes.

But I was still in control & that was the important thing. I knew my limits. No more than a couple of drinks & no getting drunk. No more than a couple of lines of coke & definitely nothing harder than that. No letting the party interfere with my studies or my work. And, my most important rule, no matter how tempted I might be or no matter how fun he might seem, absolutely no Nikki Sixx.

“Dad, I promise, I’m always careful & besides, it’s not as bad as you think.” I shrugged, attempting to downplay his concern. “Anyway,” I said standing up & retrieving his presents & cake from the hall, “let’s stop focusing on me, open up, birthday boy!”

Later

Me & Maddie stood around the block from our childhood home, well out of sight of our fathers overbearing eyes, as we both took a break from his constant paranoid questions about our lives away from home & took long, well-needed drags on our cigarettes. We’d bought ourselves 10 minutes, under the guise that we were walking to the convenience store for some milk, which bought us enough time to burn down our cigarettes & cover the smell by dousing ourselves in cheap but powerful body spray.

“I still can’t believe you’re smoking!” Maddie giggled. “It’s like watching a nun flashing or something!”

I choked slightly as I exhaled, the laugh catching in my throat as her comparison took me by surprise. “Gee, thanks!” I chuckled sarcastically.

“You know what I mean! It’s just you, my smart, goody-two-shoes big sister, is breaking one of Daddy’s golden rules, it bizarre.”

I scoffed at her. “I’m not that bad. I’m not as clean cut as everyone thinks I am.”

“Yeah right! Don’t you remember that night a couple years back when we went to see Mötley Crüe & you saw me smoking for the first time & went crazy at me?” Maddie cackled at the memory. “Oh god & then how you reacted when I went over to speak to them in that diner? You nearly had a heart attack! Fuck, I can’t believe how fast that time has gone!” She sighed contently, breathing out smoke into the brisk evening air. “Do you still see them occasionally at work?”

I took a long drag on my cigerette, drawing it out purposely as I tried to think of a way to answer. I hadn’t told Mads about my partying, or my 6 month on/off fling with Vince or even the fact that I hung around with Mötley at all. I told myself it was partly because I barely saw her & I hadn’t had chance & partly because I didn’t want to upset her, thinking that she’d feel betrayed by her sister socialising with the guy that screwed her over & embarrassed her in front of his band mates. But, if I was being honest with myself, it was more to do with the fact that I wanted to keep this part of my life separate from my messy homelife.

I settled on a simple, vague answer. “Every now & then, they play shows sometimes & say hi.” I shrugged, avoiding eye contact as I brought my cigerette back up to my lips.

“They talk to you?” Maddie quizzed, her eyes bulging with intrigue. “What do they say? Do you speak to Nikki?!”

Fuck, why did I say that last bit?!

I mentally cursed myself for not being vague enough as I searched for a response that could end the conversation. “Erm, they don’t really say much, just a polite hi & bye sort of thing. I haven’t spoke to Nikki though & I wouldn’t want to either, not after everything.” I babbled, flushing red as I attempted to lie, praying that Maddie wouldn’t probe anymore.

“Oh ok..” She sounded almost disappointed. But her eyes caught sight of my burning face. “Why are you blushing? What are you not telling me?!”

“N-nothing.” I stammered, smiling weakly, knowing just how bad I was at lying.

“Oh my god, you’re fucking him, aren’t you?!” Maddie yelled, a mixture of shock & annoyance in her voice. I blushed harder.

Fuck. She knew me too well. “What are you talking about?!”

“You! You’re sleeping with Nikki fucking Sixx, aren’t you?!”

I almost laughed out loud as relief & amusement fell over me like a comforting blanket, the prickling hot panic dying down as I realised sleeping with Vince wouldn’t be half as shocking to Maddie if she already thought I was having sex with that egotistical jackass.

“Oh god no! Maddie, I would never sleep with Nikki!” I laughed. Her face softened as she heard the sincerity in my voice, knowing I could never lie that convincingly.

“So what’s going on?!” She demanded.

“Oh, well um..” I stammered once again, suddenly nervous & awkward to admit the truth to her. “Me & Soph yanno, we hang out with them every now & then. Sophia has slept with Tommy a few times, but nothing major.”

Maddie looked suspicious & concerned. “Just be careful Beth, they’re not good guys, you & I both know this.”

“They’re not all bad. I mean, they’ve got a bad reputation but they’re not really bad guys-”

She cut me off, angrily. “Are you seriously defending them? After what Nikki did to me?!”

“No, of course not- I mean Nikki is, well yanno, he’s Nikki, he’s not the best.. But the rest of them, they’re nice guys- Vince is..” I stumbled, desperately wishing I could just go back 5 minutes & answer Maddies original question with a simple ‘no, I never see Mötley Crüe at work’.

“Oh, so it’s Vince that you’re fucking?!” She asked, cuttingly, raising her perfectly arched eyebrow judgingly.

“Yes” I answered instinctively, before realising. “No. Well, I mean- I have, but that’s got nothing to do with it!” I shouted, flustered & suddenly angry. “What are you getting so annoyed at me for?!” I deflected.

“Why?! Because you’re hanging out with the guys that humiliated me & you’re clearly acting like it never happened!”

“That’s not true! And it wasn’t the guys that humiliated you, it was Nikki & I can’t stand the guy! I even said to him the other night about how much he hurt you-“ But Maddie cut me off once again, shooting me a filthy look.

“How dare you?! How dare you speak to him about how he made me feel!” She began screaming. “That asshole doesn’t deserve to know that he took up one single second of my headspace after I stormed out of that gig, let alone know that he hurt me! I cannot believe that you would share something like that with him, you had no fucking right Beth.” She flicked her cigerette angrily on the floor as she turned & marched in the direction of home.

“Mads, come on, wait up!” I shouted as I ran after her.

“You keep my fucking name out of your goddamn mouth when you’re around that band, do you hear me, you fucking groupie?!” She hissed as she stomped away.

I stood still, shocked, wounded by her words. She’d never spoken to me like that before. I slowed my pace, not bothering to try & catch up as I followed her back home.

•••

I heard shouting as I walked up to the slightly ajar front door. My dads deep, sharp voice cutting though Maddies angry, whiny one.

“You’re in my house, you follow my rules, you know this by now!” He bellowed.

“I don’t live at home anymore, I’m 20 for Christ sake Dad, when are you going to loosen the fucking reigns?!” I winced at the sound of Maddie swearing at our father, knowing he would not take kindly to it.

“You do not speak to me like that, young lady! I am your father, you show me some respect!” He roared, angrier than I’d ever heard him.

I timidly walked through the door, hoping to calm the situation, whatever it was.

“Well you best start screaming at Elizabeth too, because she was doing it as well!” Maddie yelled, pointing at me as I pushed the front door to behind me, hoping to keep from peaking the neighbours interest.

My father let out a short, sharp laugh. “That’s typical of you Madeline, trying to shift the blame on to your sister. She’s the responsible one, you really expect me to believe she was smoking too?!”

Shit. We forgot to cover our tracks.

“You’re fucking kidding me with this Miss Perfect shit, right?” Maddie said, laughing without amusement. “Do you know what your precious daughter has been up to recently?!” I held my breathe, my eyes pleading with her to stop. Through all of our sisterly fights, through our our difficult teenage years, we’d never once had a real fight & we’d never once turned on each other.

“She’s been smoking, drinking, fucking a rock band & no doubt doing their drugs too!” Maddie spat smugly, turning to smirk at me with eyes full of anger.

I felt a rage burn inside me as my father gave me a look of disbelief, which soon changed to disappointment & then pure anger. Maddies disloyalty & smug face pushed me over the edge & I snapped. “Well you’d fucking know!” I shot back snidely. “You fucked one of them first. That probably explains how you know they’re quite fond of sharing their drugs, huh Mads?”

“Enough!” My father thundered. “Drugs?! Did you lean nothing from your mothers death?! How could you be so goddamn irresponsible, knowing what you know?! Have I taught you nothing?!”

My fury had been released & there was no keeping it in now. I glared at my dad, my anger spilling over in his direction. “Maybe if you hadn’t spent 10 years treating us like prisoners, never letting us out, never letting us experience anything, we wouldn’t be so desperate to try & figure the world out for ourselves the second we left your damn tyranny.”

My father looked taken aback, hurt. I felt regret almost instantaneously.

“You know that everything I did was to protect you.”

“Yes dad, we know, but you can’t protect us from real life.” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. I didn’t mean to say it, but it was out there now, the truth I’d always felt but refused to acknowledge. It was out & I couldn’t take it back.

His face hardened, like I’d never seen before & it struck fear into my soul.

“If you want real life experiences, go & have them, but know that whilst you act this way, whilst you blatantly disrespect my wishes & insult your mothers memory, you are no daughters of mine.” He said, coldly. “Now get out, both of you.”

Later

I slammed the door to our one bed apartment shut behind me, relieved to be back in my own home though m still shaking with unspent emotion.

I headed towards the room I shared with Sophia, praying she was out so I didn’t have to deal with her questions & I could just climb into bed & sleep off the negativity of this whole day.

As my hand reached for the door handle of the closed bedroom door, I heard the unmistakable sounds of Sophia & Tommy, going at it &, knowing them, it wasn’t going to be a quick thing either. I groaned out loud, hoping they’d hear my annoyance, before I turned & headed back towards the living room. Flopping down on the sofa, I spotted one of my psych books lying on the coffee table with a hot pink sticky note attached to it:

The theory of human motivation, get to it babe, it’s due Monday. - S ♡

“Fuck.” I whispered, realising it was now 10pm on Sunday & I hadn’t even started.

“Could this day get any fucking worse?” I complained aloud to myself as I picked up the textbook & note pad Soph had thoughtfully left beside it.

“What an apt moment to make my entrance.” Nikki chuckled darkly, causing me to jump a mile & let out a girlish squeal, as he emerged from the kitchen.

“You fucking idiot, Sixx!” I screamed, throwing a pillow in his direction, ducking just in time for it to miss his amused expression. “You scared the shit outta me, dick!” I panted, holding my heart. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Well, apparently Tommy needed to pick something up from Sophia, so I came here with him & he went into the bedroom to get it. That was half an hour ago & he’s yet to come back out, so I made myself at home.” He smiled, taking a bite out of the sandwich I hadn’t noticed him holding. “You only had wholemeal bread though.” He said, pulling a face of disgust between bites.

I scowled at him, shaking my head, not having the energy to rise to his bait tonight. He was obviously disappointed.

“What’s wrong Princess?” He smirked, “Still not ready to play with me?”

“Nikki, please. It’s been a hard day & I’ve got a paper to write by 9am tomorrow morning. Just please, please not tonight, I can’t deal with your games right now.” I pleaded, feeling the tears involuntarily fill my eyes as the true level of my metal & physical exhaustion hit me like a train. I wiped them away quickly, praying Nikki hadn’t noticed.

“Are- Um, are you, yanno, ok?” He mumbled awkwardly, moving towards the sofa, trying to judge whether or not it was safe to sit down next to me.

“I’m fine,” I sniffed, turning my face away from him as he made the decision to sit. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, if you wouldn’t mind.” I said, trying to make my voice sound strong & sure, not ready to show weakness in front of the man that I knew was capable of manipulating it if he felt like it.

“Do y- Ahem” he coughed awkwardly, pretending to clear his throat, “do you wanna talk about it?”

I let out a small, weak laugh, bringing my eyes back to meet his. He looked uncomfortable, fidgeting as he attempted to offer me some level of comfort. I couldn’t help but smile at his effort, no matter what his intentions behind it were. “No Sixx, I really don’t. But, um, thanks.”

He nodded, visibly uncomfortable. “So, uh, what’s your paper about?” He asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

“The theory of human motivation.”

“Ah ok, so like what drives people?” Nikki inquired thoughtfully, perking up a little.

“Sort of.. Well, have you ever heard of Maslows hierarchy of needs?” Nikki shook his head but looked intrigued, so I continued. “So, according to this psychologist, there are 5 levels of human needs & you have to attend to the lower levels before you can satisfy the levels higher up. So, for example, level 1 is your basic needs, food, water etc. You need those in order to attend to level 2, which is security, safety. It continues up to love & relationships, then self esteem & then self actualisation, achieving ones dreams essentially. That’s the top tier, the end goal.”

“Ok yeah, I get it. I’m down for the first level, I mean obviously I gotta survive, but I don’t need security or love or that shit to achieve my goal.” Nikki laughed. “I think this Maslow guy needs to met someone like me. Growing up without love & stability only made me more determined.”

“Well yeah, it made you more determined because you’re unknowingly seeking that love & security through your music & your band. You’re hoping your career will provide you with the security you never had & that your fans will provide you with the love. Every human falls into the model, one way or another.” I shrugged, smirking at his dumbfounded expression.

“Ok little miss psychologist, being as you clearly know me so well, analyse me.” Nikki sniggered.

I shook my head, “it doesn’t work like that. But,” I continued as inspiration struck me, “I could use you as the subject for my paper, I think you’d make an interesting case, with your inflated sense of ego & all.”

Nikki flashed his usual, arrogant smirk. “Well, doesnt sound like Tommy is gonna be done any time soon. Ok, you’ve got yourself a test subject, Princess.” He winked.

“Ok, lets do this properly. No messing around, I need to you answer my questions as best you can Sixx, promise?” I raised my eyebrows at his wide grin.

“I promise I’ll try.” He responded, raising his hand mockingly.

I grabbed my notepad & pen & began scribbling down some notes to start me off.

After a couple of minutes of writing, I looked up. Nikki was sat patiently, lighting a cigerette & gazing off to the side, lost in thought. The sight of him sent my stomach into freefall as I took that moment to appreciate his features, his strong jawline & thoughtful eyes. He caught me staring & his eyes shone with mischief as he grinned once again, shattering my vision of this deep, soulful artist. I laughed at my own foolish thought that Nikki Sixx was anything more than he appeared to be at face value. He proved that with his answer to my first question.

“Ok, So Nikki Sixx, tell me what it is that you do.”

“What do I do?” He asked, that roguish gleam in his eyes twinkling as gave me that troublesome smirk once again. “Oh, I do bad things.” He answered.

“Yeah, this was a bad idea.” I snapped, slamming my notepad shut with exasperation. “I should’ve figured you weren’t capable of taking anything seriously.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I’ll be sensible.” He laughed. “I am the creator & bassist of a rock band called Mötley Crüe.”

I gave him a stern, warning look before continuing. “And tell me, what lead you to peruse a career in music?”

“Music was the one constant thing throughout my childhood & teenage years. It cut through the boredom & the bullshit in my life. It inspired me.” He said simply, but passionately. I brought my eyes up from the notepad to look at him, his eyes truly thoughtful this time as I imagined him reminiscing about the first album he’d ever bought or the first time he held a bass. Whatever he was remembering, it tugged at the corners of his lips as a genuine smile appeared on his face, taking the place of his usual smirk. I couldn’t help but smile along with him, taking in his beauty & serenity in that moment.

“So, ahem”, I coughed, bringing myself back to reality, “What was music an escape from? What lead you to feel so passionately about it?”

“I had a shitty upbringing.” He said bluntly. “My dad split when I was 3 & it was obvious that I was just a burden to my mom. Whenever I got in the way of her lifestyle, she’d ship me off to my grandparents who constantly moved around. And when she did want me, I was just a punching bag for her asshole boyfriends.”

“Nikki, I’m sorry, I had no idea..” I trailed off.

“It’s fine Princess, it is what it is.” He shrugged, but I sensed he wasn’t as ok with it as he was making out. “So when I found music, it was suddenly like ‘this is it, this is what I’ve been looking for’, it just made sense to me & I’ve been infatuated ever since.”

“Sixx, look, we don’t have to do this, I didn’t realise that this went as deep as it does, I don’t wanna intrude..”

“It’s ok. It must be hard to imagine broken families when you’re not from one.” Nikki responded a little sharply, his presumption catching me off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“No, I just meant that when you have a stable family, it must be hard to imagine that some parents don’t love or want their kids, yanno?”

I laughed humourlessly at his false premise. “Trust me, there is nothing stable about my family.”

“Oh come on Beth. You’re telling me that you, the well educated Daddy’s girl from the good neighbourhood, had a rough childhood, really?” Nikki scoffed, rolling his eyes.

I snapped, growing tiresome of his stereotypical opinion of me. “You don’t know the first thing about me Sixx, stop pretending that you do.”

“Kind I’d like how you didn’t know the first thing about me until 5 minutes ago? Yet, you’ve always made your judgements on my attitude & my lifestyle. I’m just returning the favour doll.” He replied, raising his eyebrow pointedly.

I sighed, resigning to his annoyingly accurate point. “Ok fine. Not that I owe you any explanation,” I started, looking anywhere in the room but at those piercing eyes that were focused so intently on me. “My mom OD’d when I was 13. She was prescribed painkillers after a car accident & she just never came off them.”

“Fuck.” Nikki whispered. “Doll, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head as I felt the tears prick in my eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day. “Our dad wrapped me & Maddie up in bubble wrap after that & made us fearful of the world. He took us out of school & homeschooled us, never really let us socialise, we never got to go out & see our friends, he all but kept us locked up.” I sighed, thinking back to the harsh words I’d said to my father earlier on that day, the regret & guilt flooding back & overwhelming me once again. “I know he was doing what he thought was best, keeping us safe & protected from anything or anyone that could harm us or influence us.”

“Someone like me?” Nikki teased, trying to lighten the mood.

I let out a soft giggle. “Exactly.”

Nikki gently placed his hand under my chin, lifting my head up fractionally so that my eyes met his. His gaze drifted to my cheek as a lone tear fell silently down it. His grazed his thumb softly against my skin, wiping it away with a simple caress that sent shivers through my body. I felt weak under his touch. That same touch that had once set fire to my mind did so once more & I instantly craved him all over again.

“Who knew you could be a good guy when you wanted to be?” I whispered as his thumb trailed from my cheek to my lips, his eyes fixated on them.

“I’m the devil Lizzy, remember?” He muttered back, restraint evident in this voice. “I’m not a good guy.”

“Being good doesn’t get you anywhere. Trust me, I know.” I breathed, leaning in to him & letting my lips brush his, using his own trick against him. “Kiss me, Sixx.” I whispered.

“You don’t want this, Angel.” He warned gently.

“And how do you know what I want?”

His brow furrowed, confliction obvious in his dark green eyes. “You’re upset & you’ve had a bad day. This isn’t you & as much as I want you, I don’t want you this way, you’re not thinking clearly.” He sighed.

“Fuck, Nikki, I can’t fucking win! So what, you only want me if I’m like all of those other groupies, drunk in a bar & throwing myself at you, is that it?” I snapped, moving away from him.

“No Beth, that’s not it.” He replied bluntly, running his hands through his messy hair. “But look, you’re emotional & vulnerable & I-“ he stumbled, unsure whether to continue. “I’m not the solution to your problem Beth ok, I’m not that kinda guy.”

I laughed sharply. “Wow, because I’m so insecure in myself that I must need you to comfort & validate me, right? Christ Nikki, it must be exhausting fanning your own fucking ego like that.”

“Why else would you be coming on to me now?!”

“Because for a second Nikki, you actually seemed like a decent guy, like maybe you actually had a heart. And for a fucking second, I didn’t despise you.” I laughed, bitterly. “Silly me!”

“But that’s just it Beth, you know I’m not a decent guy. I wanna fuck you, I mean Christ, you know I do. But I wanna make you feel bad, I wanna fulfil your darkest fantasies, I don’t wanna just be your comfort fuck, that’s just not what I do Beth, I’m sorry.” He muttered, shaking his head.

“How fucking dare you?!” I fumed, shoving his shoulder & standing up. “How dare you presume that I fucking need your comfort. I can take care of myself, Sixx, thanks.” I turned around, walking towards the kitchen, muttering to myself “God forbid I should just find him attractive for a fraction of a second & wanna act on it-”

I heard Nikki stand up & I spun round to give him more of my mind, but he was quick & I was suddenly standing chest to chest with him, my face at the level of his neck & I caught his musky scent & I was momentarily intoxicated. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from imagining what it would be like to feel his skin under my lips as I placed kisses along his neck, nipping & sucking as I went. My mouth watered slightly at the thought.

“Ok Lizzy. Prove it.” Nikki tested, his forehead resting lazily on mine as I brought my eyes up to look at him. They were dark, yet I could sense the struggle & hesitance in them, along with the desire that I’d come to recognise so well.

“Prove what?” I asked stubbornly.

“That you want me. Prove me wrong, do something reckless & impulsive just because you know it’ll feel good. Make that decision to jump.” He whispered, his breath brushing my face as his words & his eyes drew me in, pulling me down, under his spell.

Once again, he brought his lips to mine, allowing them to brush together, sending sparks of electricity & passion surging through my body, but he restrained from kissing me. He wanted me to be the one to do it. He wanted to be right.

Fuck, I wanted to prove him right.

“You’re the devil, Nikki Sixx.” I murmured softly.

He smirked against my lips, knowing he had finally won. “Angel, something tells me you can’t help but enjoy it.”

I tiptoed & titled my head up towards Nikki, closing the gap in between our lips, surrendering myself to him. My lips crashed on to his & immediately that fire that only he could ignite spread to every part of me. My mind, my body, my soul we’re all ablaze with the feeling of him. For the first time in years, I did something I knew I shouldn’t, for no other reason than because I simply wanted to. There was no hidden reason or agenda, I just wanted him.

No, I craved him. I wanted him to show me the darker side of myself he promised, I wanted him to show me what my body was made for.

He pressed himself against me, tasting me, wrapping his arms around my waist & pulling me in closer. I could feel that tantalisingly smirk against my lips, I could taste his arrogance & it only made me want him more. I buried my fingers into his hair, gripping with desperate ferocity as he picked me up & thrust me roughly onto the kitchen work surface, deepening his kiss, causing me to moan gently into his mouth.

Nikki groaned seductively, breaking the kiss. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you make that noise for me.” He breathed, his hands travelling up my body to cup my face, holding it roughly, forcing me to look into his hungry eyes. He studied for me a second as I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, my body aching for his kiss.

“I knew I could make you fall from Grace.” He smirked. “We’re gonna have fun so much fun together, little Angel.” He grinned wickedly, letting go of my face but keeping his hand under my chin.

I smirked, a new found confidence washing over me as ran my hands through Nikkis disheveled hair & looked into those dark eyes.

I leaned in towards him, my soft lips grazing his lobe purposefully as I whispered proactively into his ear. “You have no idea what you’ve just started. Just because you won this round, doesn’t mean I’m gonna make this easy for you. When I’m through, even the devil is going to kneel before me.” I drawled, mimicking his arrogance before hopping off the work surface & walking away, leaving Nikki with his mouth open, desperate for more.

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the-writing-dump-bin · 5 years

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Hello, i just found your page and was up til 5am reading all your jjba nsfw and omggg i fell in love with characters i never thought twice about, your work is to WRITHE for! im not sure if you take prompt requests so im sorry if im over stepping, but id love some gentle, but firm Bruno nsfw where he slowly woos you and then spends a very "eventful" night with you 🖤

Sorry for the wait, I had a ton of distractions while trying to write. Hope this is okay for you!

NSFW 18+

[[MORE]]

Going to small, lesser known cafes wasn't really Bruno Buccellati's style, being the leader of a gang and all, but he came here for you.

Three months ago, he was on a small stake-out mission and wound up at the cafe you worked at. He had gotten a table a few booths down from the person he was following; you were his waitress. "Evening, my name is Y/N, could I get you a drink to start?" Bruno didn't look at you right away, his eyes still on the man a few feet away, but when he realized you were standing and talking next to him, he looked up at you; completely taken by your looks. After idle chit chat, he almost forgot about the man he was following. He paid his tab and gave you a quick thank you and goodbye and left.

Since then, Bruno had been coming to you whenever he could; even if it was just for a cup of coffee, he couldn't sit unless he ordered something.

"Bruno!" You greeted when he came through the door; he sat at the counter. "I'm glad to see you're back. Can I get you the usual?"

"Of course." A couple weeks ago, Bruno had told you that he was going on a "little vacation" and wouldn't be around for a while. He kept his profession a secret from you, for now anyways. Someday he would tell you what he really did. He smiled his sweet little smile to you when you handed him his cup. "So, you're glad to see me?"

You couldn't help but smirk, guess you walked into that one. Bruno always flirted with you whenever he came in, giving you compliments with flirtatious tones, resting his chin on his palm as he looked at you with half-lidded eyes. Sometimes he ordered food just for it to sit there untouched while he talked to you. "How was your trip?"

"It was... Interesting." Was all he said, not wanting to elaborate about his previous mission. He took a sip of the coffee you made him, god you knew just how to make it for him. "Listen, Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to have dinner-

"Hey, waitress!" Shouted a man from a corner booth. He was a semi-regular at the cafe, but he was an incredibly rude man. "We're ready to order!"

Sighing, you excused yourself to tend to the loud man. Bruno turned to stare at his coffee cup.

"Forget it, Buccellati."

Bruno's head shot up and turned to the direction of the sound from where he heard his name. Just in the corner, was the cook, Geno, leaning against the wall next to the door to the kitchen. His eyes narrowed at him. "How do you-"

"Know your name? Ive got people on the inside too. You've been sniffing around here for months after Y/N and each time you've asked her out, she's always swerved you. Isn't it about time you gave up?"

Bruno stared back at the man. Yeah, he had asked you out a few times already, and each time you said you had something else planned. But that never stopped him. He was determined to get at least one date from you. He would have said something in retaliation, but you came back with the order you just took, handing it to the cook and looking very irritated.

"Geno, here is their order. They're the picky guys who come in every so often, can you just make sure they are satisfied with their food?"

"Of course." Geno gave one last look to Bruno before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Sorry about that, Bruno." You sighed, topping off his coffee, "You were saying something earlier?"

"Um... Yeah, a little bit. I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me."

You smiled bashfully. This was the fourth time Bruno had asked you if you wanted to do something with him, and each time, you said you had other plans. But you didn't. It's not like you didn't like Bruno, because you did, its was that you were too shy to say 'yes'. He had been charming you ever since that night he first showed up. Those deep, blue eyes entrapped you every time they locked with yours, making your heart thump so hard that you thought it would leap straight out of your chest. "Oh, Bruno..."

Bruno bowed his head, knowing that familiar tone you used. "You have plans. Right." His eyes went soft, glosing over with tears he refused to let fall. Maybe Geno was right. Maybe he should give up. He brought up his head slowly and saw Geno staring at him from the little opening where he would pass the servers their orders to carry out. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he placed the money for his coffee on the counter and got up. "Thank you, Y/N. I'll see you around." He made his way out the door.

Each time you did this, you felt bad. Bruno was obviously into you and you were into him. So why couldn't you say 'yes'?

"Y/N," Geno hollered. "Your order is up."

You didn't move; eyes still fixed on the door where Bruno left.

"Y/N! Your order is up! They're going to get rowdy soon if you don't-"

You ran around the counter and out the door, trying to catch up with Bruno. "Bruno!" You huffed when you finally caught up to him.

"Y/N? Whats the matter?"

"Y-Yes."

"Huh?"

"Dinner... I go to dinner with you."

The grin couldn't be contained. He didn't want to ask if you were sure, afraid you would changed your mind after you said it. "Wonderful!" He pulled out a small piece of paper and wrote on it. When he handed it to you, he let his fingers linger on yours. "See you then."

---

Is this really the spot? You asked yourself. Sitting in your car, you looked at the piece of paper with the address Bruno had written down for you yesterday. You expected to meet him at a resturaunt, but here you are, parked in front of a house.

You had already been nervous about the date; almost deciding not to show up at all. But you steeled your nerves, dressing up in a cute skirt- not too short, but not too long either. Your shirt fit you just right. Your hair did up the way you wanted. You looked good. Standing at the door, you weren't sure if you should knock or ring the doorbell. Mentally slapping yourself, you rang the doorbell, sighing with relief when Bruno answered the door- you had the right place.

Bruno smiled widely when he saw you. "You made it. Come in." He moved out of the way so you could enter.

Shyly, you walked inside. His house was gorgeous and very well decorated. Your wandering eyes fell to the dining room table. It was set very romantically with a white table cloth, lit candles with wine and wine glasses in the middle. Bruno had went out of his way to set everything just perfect for you, you felt a little guilty for even thinking about skipping the date. "Bruno, this looks amazing."

Bruno was happy to hear that you liked it. "I thought it would be nice to have a quiet dinner together." He brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. "You look wonderful." You blushed hard. His touch was so gentle. He guided you to the table and sat you down in a chair. A moment later, he brought you back a plate full of the food he prepared. "Thank you, Bruno. It looks delicious."

The evening was very pleasant. The two of you had a lovely time catching up from the last two weeks while he was gone. The food was great, he really knew how to cook.

You were having a really good time, then you noticed that Bruno was sitting next to you a little bit closer than he was earlier. His hand rested atop of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You could tell what he was feeling; you knew he had a crush on you for awhile. And you had one on him too, but you were just too shy to be as bold as him. "Bruno..."

"I'm sorry, cara," He started to pull his hand back. "I'm being too forward."

At the last second, you grabbed his hand before it left yours, lacing your fingers with his. "No, I'm sorry. I know how strongly you feel about me, and I feel the same way, I just don't know how to-"

Very softly, Bruno cut you off with a tender kiss; his breath hitting your lips, sending shivers through your body. Once you processed what was happening, you quickly melted into the kiss, giving your own back. Bruno's free hand slid onto your thigh, rubbing the hem of your skirt between his fingers. That caused you to form a knot in your waist.

Your mind started to cloud. Was it the wine or Bruno's intoxicating kisses that was causing this feeling? Probably a mixture of both. His hand dared to slide up farther, brushing against your panties, making your breath hitch. Soon, he moved them to the side and shoved a single finger between your increasingly wet folds.

Bruno started with a slow rub over your clit, making you grab the seat of your chair, moaning at the pleasure you were being given. "O-Oh..." His hand pulled away, making you whimper with disappointment. "No, Bruno... Dont stop."

His kisses moved to your neck; his tongue running over your skin in small licks. "I don't plan on stopping, amore." He stood, pulling you up with him and cleared a part of the table, laying you on top of it. He leaned over you, running his hands up and down your sides as he kissed you deeply. Your hips arched into him, grinding against his thigh that he placed between your legs.

Unbuttoning his shirt, you discarded it but left the lace he wore underneath it-he was pretty hot in that thing. He removed your shirt as well, unhooking your bra and throwing it across the room. He took a moment to look at you before he latched onto a nipple, softly running his tongue around it.

Next was the pants. Your hands reached down, unzipping them and freeing his ridiculously hard cock. Bruno straighten up and pulled your hips closer to the edge of the table, pulling down your skirt and panties and wrapped your legs around his waist, lining up with your entrance. He scanned your face, looking for any indication to halt his actions, but found none.

Slowly, and gently, he slid inside; your walls adjusting to his member. You could feel the care he had for you with each inch you took; he didn't want to hurt you in anyway. Once all of him was in, he gave you a moment before starting a rhythm, pulling out slowly and then back inside. "Are you alright, my love?"

"Y-Yes..." You huffed, wanting more as the knot in your waist grew tighter. "B-Bruno... Faster..."

His hands gripped your bottom, lifting you up to penetrate you at a better angle. He started thrusting faster...faster...faster...

The table shook with your movements as he pounded into you harder. The plates and glasses eventually made their way off of the surface, smashing into the floor. Bruno didn't care, he could always get more. Right now, all he wanted was you.

Leaning back down over you, he breathed into your ear as he continued to fuck you. "I'm so close, tesoro."

"Me too. Ah... Ah...keep...go-ing...!"

You couldn't help but let out a pleasurable scream as your orgasm waved over you. Bruno pushed into your pussy and chased your orgasm with his, filling you right up with his seed.

Coming down from your highs, Bruno's face hovered over yours, pushing sweat soaked hair from your face with his hand. He didn't really have any words, but smiled when you smiled at him. Cute little kisses where shared as he pulled out of you, using a napkin to help clean you up.

Standing in the middle of his dining room, naked, he pulled you into him and embraced you. "I'm so happy when I'm around you, Y/N. And what we just did..." He was in heaven.

Playing with the lace sticking to his skin, you felt the same as him. "I-It doesn't have to end here, does it?"

Bruno looked down at you, eyes softly staring into yours. "If you don't want it to. We can keep going for as long as you wish."

Another shot of excitement ran through your veins. You were definitely interested in spending the night with Bruno. He took your hand and brought you to his room.

This was where the night would really take off...

#jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #bruno bucciarati #bruno #request #anonymous #anon #my fic #my writing #n*sf*w #read more

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