#read my fic to find out what happened next
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the girl next door 19
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
You stare straight ahead, to humiliated to look at the man next to you. You haven't since you woke up.
You wallow in confusion, trying to piece together the void in your mind. It's all blank after the shower. No matter how much you try, it just makes your head hurt.
"You didn't eat much. You feeling okay?" He breaks the silence as he comes in view of the hospital.
"Yeah, not very hungry," you murmur.
"You know, I read the insert with the pills, that's one of the side effects. Plus it can really knock you on your butt. Must be what happened last night."
"Please," you beg; just the mention has you squirming.
"And fatigue can be a symptom of depression so that might also be why--"
"I'm sorry," you hide your face in your hands, "I don't remember. I don't want to talk about it."
"I told you, sweetie," he slows and finds a spot among the lot, "we just slept, alright? I just wanted to keep an eye on you otherwise I would've let you have the bed."
You curl your fingers and dig them into your eye sockets. He doesn't get it. She doesn't hate him.
"Please," you sniffle and sit up, "don't tell my mom.'
"Don't tell--" he hits the button to kill the engine and unbuckles his seat belt, "there's nothing to tell, right?"
"Yeah, but if... if she thought..." you stammer as you swipe away a glimmer of tears, "she's sick. I don't wanna m-make it worse."
"Alright, sweetie," he reaches between the seats and squeezes your shoulders, "it can be our little secret."
You nod a gulp. Your chest racks with the air trapped inside. He lets his hand brush down your arm.
"Sweetie, it's okay. I'm going to take care of you. You and your mom," he retracts his touch, "now let's go say good morning."
You undo your belt and get out as he opens the back door. He takes out the balloon and flowers he stopped to pick up on the way. He had you sign the card but your mom will know it wasn't your idea. You're too stupid to think of that.
You offer to help but he waves you off. You go through the visitor's entrance and up the elevator. He approaches the nurses' station and greets them easily. He makes you feel worse for how sure he is of himself. The world isn't scary to him. The world doesn't mind him being there.
As you get to your mother's room, you stop short. He nearly collides with your back and he chuckles.
"Here, honey, you take the flowers," he offers the bouquet, "she's going to love them."
You turn and take them without argument. They're your only defense. You enter slowly and Steve follows.
"Morning, honey," he chimes past you, "surprise!"
"Emf, Steve?" She gurgles as she turns her head one way then the other, "oh, Steve, you're here."
"Just like we promised," he goes to her and kisses her forehead then gives her the card, tying the balloon to the bed rail. "Brought some flowers."
"Shouldn't have done all that," she's back to her act, smiling for him as she sits up with an exaggerated effort, "I'll be coming home."
"I know, just wanted to brighten your day," he shrugs, "we were real worried. Both of us."
Your mother's eyes skim in your direction and narrow, "she didn't give ya too much trouble, did she?"
"She's perfect, hon," he assures. "Really, she's been a lot of help. I was in a state and she took good care of me."
"She did?" She wonders.
You try not to react. He's lying but you wouldn't want him to tell the truth. You just keep your mouth shut and come forward to offer the flowers.
"Here," you say, "love you, mom."
She takes them with a brittle silence then quickly resumes her preening, looking at Steve as she inhales the scent, "oh, so lovely." She lowers them and rests them on her lap, "you didn't happen to bring coffee? I'm dying for a cup."
"Ah, gee, you know, it slipped my mind," Steve says, "guess there were bigger things."
"I'll... I'll go to the cafeteria and get some," you offer and feel around your pockets. You forgot your change purse. Shoot. "Erm..."
"Here," Steve reaches in his back pocket, "it's on me. If you can grab me an orange juice and something for yourself. Thanks, kiddo."
He hands you a folded twenty from his wallet. You take it reluctantly and glance at your mom. Her eye twitches but she keeps a placid expression. You turn to leave as she quickly forgets you.
“I missed you so much,” she whines.
“I know, honey, but we should talk...”
Those words chase you out the door and prickle the hair along your neck. What are they talking about? He said he wouldn’t tell her.
You can barely see straight as you walk the halls, losing yourself several times before getting to the elevators. When at last you’ve reached the cafeteria, you struggle to remember what you’re there for. You grab the coffee and an orange juice and pay, keeping the change clutched tight.
You head back up, lightheaded from the motion of the elevator, and float through the halls, unseen and unbothered by the bodies around you. You feel invisible. Sometimes, you wonder if you’re even a part of the same world.
You stop outside your mom’s room, the door open.
“Steve, it’s a lot...” she mutters gloomily.
“Trust me, Holly, alright?”
You cough and step through. You put the coffee on the table near your mother’s bed and turn to offer Steve his juice and change. He accepts them as they both stay quiet, almost as if they’re not telling you something.
“Thanks, kiddo,” he speaks at last and tucks the money away, “you didn’t get anything?”
“No, it’s okay.”
You glance at your mother, expecting a gripe. ‘Good you don’t want her spending all your money’. She just reaches for the coffee, a tick in her cheek as she finds no sugar or cream with it. Another mess up.
“Well, I’ll go get the doctor, have him check you out and see if you’re ready to go,” Steve claps his hands.
“Sure,” your mother hums and pops the lid off her coffee, “you’re a life saver, honey.”
-
Steve drives you and your mother home, a layer of exhaustion settling around all of you. You don’t think your mother got very much sleep at the hospital and your own did little to nip away at your constant sluggishness. Even Steve yawns as he pulls onto the avenue and pulls into your mother’s driveway.
You get out as he helps your mother from the front seat. You trail them up the porch and skirt around to open the door. Even as you try to be helpful, you feel like you’re in the way.
Your mother’s hand is shaking pretty bad as Steve gets her into the recliner. You watch from the archway and wring your hands. It feels like forever since you’ve been home. The break in routine has you restless.
“I’ll stick around for a bit but I got a buddy stopping by later. I’ve been putting it off and he’s starting to get pushy,” he explains, “but you can always call me. Kiddo,” he stands straight, hands on his hips, “you got my number? So you can text.”
“I don’t have a phone,” you frown.
“I’ll call ya,” your mother insists over you.
“Okay, well, I’ll make you something to eat before I head out. Did they give you your meds at the hospital?” He asks.
You see your mom hesitate. She’s never been one to be coddled. She always told you to back off but with him, she can’t break the facade. Her cheek ticks and she flutters her lashes, her tremour worsening.
“Oh, Steve, I don’t feel so well. Do you have to go?” She moans.
“Honey, did you take your meds?” He repeats more firmly.
“Ugh, yes, okay?” She huffs and drops back on the recliner. “You don’t have to remind me I’m sick.”
Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head, “I’m making sure you don’t get worse. Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I’m sorry,” she heaves and hides behind her hand, “I’m so stressed and it’s just... horrible to not be able to stuff on your own.”
“Doesn’t mean you get to take it out on everyone else,” he reprimands. He sounds mad. You’ve never heard him like that. “Look, I gotta get moving around here. You think about what we talked about.” He turns and winces as he sees you, almost like he forgot you. “Kiddo, why don’t you go chill out? It’s been a long morning.”
You nod and quickly retreat, thankful for the opportunity to be alone.
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#the girl next door#series#au#silverfox au#mcu#marvel#captain america#drabble
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I loved your fic about Theo getting upset because the readers' parents said they couldn't go to Italy for the summer. I was wondering if you could do something similar. The reader says she's not allowed to stay with him for the summer, but theo trys to convince readers mom to let them go to Italy, but he finds out that her parents said she could go. And Theo confronts the reader.
I don't know. I thought it could be a cute angst/fluff fic I've never requested before, but I love your writing, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Thanks:)
Little Lies (Theodore Nott x Reader)
angst&fluff, happy ending | requested!
"Theo, they said no, I really can't argue with that," y/n sighed as she closed the book she was reading.
Theo groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Let me talk to them, then," he tried, "they love me! They'll listen to me, won't they?"
Panic surged through y/n's body at the mention of Theo talking to her parents. "It'll just make them mad at me! It's just not happening, I'm sorry my love."
The truth lay beneath her panic-stricken words: she hadn't even asked her parents. Truth be told, they'd say yes immediately if she had asked. It was no secret that y/n's parents adored Theo and would do anything if it meant that the two would stay together long enough to breach the topic of marriage.
y/n hadn't mentioned going to Italy for the summer with Theodore for one simple reason: Theodore Nott Sr.
Nott Sr. was an imposing man with strict ideals and rules and little to no morality. He scared everyone that he came in contact with, especially his only son and heir's girlfriend. He was often controlling and angry, with yelling and cursing being his most used vocabulary. Theo loved to hate his father and hated to love him, but by way of only having a father his teenage life, he'd come to respect him for what he could do.
y/n was not so lucky. She was a stranger to the violence that unfolded in Nott Manor, to the hurt that a father could cause his only son. It was impossible to watch when Theo would appear perfectly groomed and poised, all the while hiding the bruises and scars that lay just below his collar. It broke y/n's heart to pieces, and she refused to house herself under that roof for an entire summer's break.
But she couldn't tell Theo that. Perfect, poised, handsome, loving Theo who only wanted her, his source of comfort, to be with him in a picturesque setting.
So instead, she lied. And as everyone says, lies cannot be kept forever.
y/n's parents had invited Theo for dinner the next night at their manor, reveling in the laughter that ensued from his witty jokes and ignoring his blatant hand on their daughter's thigh.
"I did want to ask you something, Mr. l/n," Theo said softly as dinner winded down. A sick feeling invaded y/n's stomach, with its only visible traces being the red color that latched itself onto her neck.
The older man nodded, "Anything, my boy. What is it?"
Theo shot Mr. l/n a smile, one that he'd learned almost exclusively from the business dealings of his father. "My father and I would be overjoyed if y/n could join us this summer at our home in Italy. It's in Rome, near the city center. He wanted me to extend the invitation to her. Would that be alright?"
Time seemed to slow to a grinding halt. y/n was sweating, her hands shaking as she clasped her glass and avoided the eyes of her parents.
"Of course, of course!" Mrs. l/n replied for her husband, grinning widely at Theo. "I'm sure she'd love to as well, wouldn't you dear? And that just means that we can have a child-free summer of our own!"
Theo's eyes dropped onto y/n with such sadness and frustration that it made her skin crawl. She saw the disappointment under his features, trying desperately to escape his gaze. She only managed a nod.
With a few more pleasantries, dinner concluded and y/n and Theo were free to escape to her bedroom. Once the door had closed, Theo scoffed loudly.
"What was that all about?" he asked angrily, his face turning a pinker hue than normal. He was angry, that much was clear.
"I... I'm sorry," y/n managed, dropping her head low. She fidgeted with the rings on her hand, half of which Theo had gifted her.
Theo scoffed again. "You're sorry? I didn't ask for an apology, I asked for an explanation! You told me they said no!"
y/n sighed loudly, dropping to sit on her bed with her head in her hands. "I never asked," she admitted softly.
"You never asked?" Theo had begun to yell, quickly casting a muffliato charm on the room. "y/n, I asked you about this months ago and you said they told you no! Why did you lie to me?"
"I had a good reason, Theo! Okay?" y/n shouted back, tears springing from her eyes. She and Theo never argued, but when they did, it was awful and hurtful.
"Oh good, I'd love to hear what a good fucking reason you have for making me look like an idiot with your parents! Or for lying straight to my face for months!" He was screaming now, fisting at his hair and coming closer to y/n.
She flinched a little at the action, staring up at Theo intensely. "You'll just get mad at me again if I tell you, so what's the point? I'll go, okay! I'll spend the whole summer with you and your asshole father and be uncomfortable for months!"
Theo paused at that, the room going deathly silent. "Uncomfortable? You're uncomfortable spending your summer with your boyfriend who has told you so many times that he wants to fucking marry you? What, are you going to be so uncomfortable at the thought of spending time with me that you'll tell me no?" His tone got angrier with every word.
"I'm not uncomfortable because of you, you asshole!" y/n shouted, standing up suddenly. She and Theo were close and the anger radiating off of them was palpable. "I'm uncomfortable because your dad is a fucking sadist and wants everyone around him to hurt! I don't want to watch you get beaten for existing for months, Teddy! I can't do that! And if you don't understand that or if you don't think it's a good reason to say no, then I don't know what planet you live on."
They were close, close enough to make one wrong move and end up completely engulfed with one another. Theo was the first to speak.
"And you couldn't have told me that in the first place instead of lying to my face, y/n/n?" he asked softly, his anger dissipating by the second. "You don't think you can talk to me about that?"
y/n let the tears fall freely down her cheeks. "You wouldn't have listened to me, just like you're not listening now! I'm sorry I lied to you, honey, I am. But you never listen when I tell you that I hate your father."
Theo stayed silent for a while, his eyes indicating that he was lost inside his own head. He finally moved after what seemed like an eternity, wiping the tears off of y/n's cheeks with a soft brush of his thumbs.
"I'm sorry, amore mio," he apologized softly, moving his hands to tangle in her hair. "I... I didn't think about it."
y/n sobbed a little, nuzzling into his touch. "You never do."
Theo nodded sadly, resting his forehead on hers. "You don't have to come," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "I should've thought of you first."
y/n shook her head slightly, sniffling. "I just don't want to see you hurt or getting hurt or anything but happy. He makes you miserable."
"I'll figure it out," Theo replied softly, kissing y/n's head. "I'll figure it out."
"He sucks, you know that?" y/n asked with a small, humorless laugh. "If he wasn't there, I'd go. If he wasn't involved, I'd go anywhere you asked me to."
Theo nodded, looking into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered, meeting their lips into a passionate, emotional kiss. "I'll figure it out, I promise. I'm sorry for yelling at you."
y/n pulled him into a tight embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's okay. I shouldn't have lied to you."
"If I can convince him to not go... would you come?" Theo asked, hugging her tighter. "I can figure it out."
y/n nodded, pulling back just enough to see his face. He had that determined look that he sported on occasion, like when he played quidditch, or when he was working on an assignment. "I'd go anywhere with you and only you."
Theo nodded silently, kissing y/n again, this time as a promise. "It'll be done. And no more little lies."
"No more little lies," y/n agreed, pulling them both down on her bed.
-
i hope you liked it!! as always, requests are open!
#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys#theo nott#theodore nott#theodore nott angst#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott imagine
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Hello my friends! I am late, but we won't mention it. April was a very busy month, but I managed to read way more than I've been able to the last few months, so I have a good selection for you. There's a couple rereads, a couple fics I put off reading for far too long, and a few that I found at the perfect time and devoured on sight.
Let's go!
Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites for H/D Bodice Ripper Fest 2022 M, 14.8k
Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?
I read this fic about a year ago, and I am so glad that I chose to revisit it this month. It is just so, so good. Endlessly hilarious, with a solid plot that is resolved neatly in 14 thousand words. I really love Harry here. His letters are so adorable. This aspect comes in later in this list as well, but I love when Draco is kind of a mysterious figure for a good chunk of a fic. The wondering, the anticipation. What kind of Draco will we meet this time? It's all very delicious.
Seeker's High by @corvuscrowned M, 40k
Harry Potter doesn’t expect to take up running years after the war ends; it just sort of happens.
He also doesn’t expect that — as he fights tooth and nail to climb out of a post-war depression he didn’t realize he’d fallen into — he’ll end up running right into the arms of Draco Malfoy.
A half angsty drama, half romcom of Harry working on himself, learning how to accept help from his friends, and falling in love with his childhood nemesis.
Another reread. This is one of those fics I've found myself periodically thinking about, mostly because it just feels so right. Harry's characterization in this is fascinating, and I really enjoyed watching his slow evolution as his relationships grow, both with running and with Draco. A unique premise that I really enjoyed and know I will revisit again.
Turn by Saras_Girl E, 306k
One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.
Okay, so, I'm not even gonna say anything. I put off reading this for way too long, and not knowing a single thing about this fic was probably the reason I devoured every chapter the way I did. Just know I was clawing at the walls.
Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu E, 75.3k
Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.
Oh my fucking god. I have never in my life laughed out loud this many times while reading a fic. Truly, two dumb, horny assholes just trying to crack the case. But, behind all the side-splitting humor (and searingly hot sex) is a deep understanding of both characters that shines through and makes every moment hit so much harder. As in, they would fucking say that. Every single follow-up in the series is a banger, too. Thanks to @tackytigerfic for pointing those out to me!
Make This Leap by @oflights M, 118k
Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner.
Harry does.
I relived four years of my life reading this fic. Both the good and the bad. Truly, a wonderful portrayal of the epic highs and lows of restaurant work. From personal drama to work-related catastrophes, this fic has it all. Like I said before, I love having to wait a bit to see Draco. I love hearing about him through the grapevine. I had so much fun reading this, and it was a treat to see these characters in an environment that I hadn't really envisioned them in before. Lovable (and punchable) side characters, a very stressed out Harry Potter, and a solid amount of health code infractions. Amazing.
See you at the end of May! xx, Moon.
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Good Omens Fic Rec: A Billion Points of Light
The firefighter lifts the visor on their helmet, and Crowley may not be able to see very well, but those are the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen in his life.
Crowley has never been one for the whole 'love at first sight' business, but he may need to reassess after Aziraphale - a gorgeous firefighter - saves his life.
Length: 50,764 words
AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, Slow Burn, Human AU
Triggers: None/Panic Attacks
Read it here, fic by akitsuko
*Minor Spoilers* Oh my poor Crowley. In this human AU, our massage therapist Crowley, falls asleep one night and wakes to find his flat on fire. When all hope seems lost, he is saved by an Angel. Or rather, retained firefighter and antique book dealer Aziraphale. With no one else to turn to for help, Aziraphale brings Crowley home to his cottage while he recovers and slowly pieces his life back together. And you can guess what happens next. I really adored this story. The way they interact, slow and yet so fast, is exactly why we keep coming back to these stories. But it also had a very engaging plot in the way Crowley tries to piece his life back together after the fire. The moments where his walls collapse and he fully feels the trauma of what happened were heartbreaking and so real. Thank someone that Aziraphale is there to take care of him and steady him. And I love that this story doesn't give them their happily ever after immediately, there's a lot of baggage to sort out. But slowly, they will get there. They'll always get there in the end.
I loved this story, it felt so safe and comforting. Safe in public until towards the end, nothing very graphic though so you'll be fine either way. Beware of the overwhelming yearning to magically find yourself a partner that's a massage therapist that will hit during this one!
Read it here, fic by akitsuko
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanfic#fanfic rec#aziracrow#good omens fic rec#aziraphale x crowley#A Billion Points of Light#akitsuko#long#four flames#human au#slow burn#massage au#firefighter au
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Pretty Little Letter’s
Dbf Negan Smith x Fem Reader
Synopsis - After finishing college you decide to on a gap year to take a breather after many years of hard work. Setting out to travel the country, you promise to write to your dad every week, what happens when his best friend Negan makes you promise to write to him too.
Warnings- No apocalypse AU, dads best friend, large age gap, feelings, love confessions, adventures, reader travelling, reader described as female, mentions of cheating, Negan is the one cheated on in this fic by ex wife, struggles with feelings, I took the John Winchester idea and made Negan a mechanic, obviously not canon at all, vague mentions of sex, but no actual smut in this chapter. There will be in later chapters though so 18+ only please.
Let me know if I’ve left anything out
Word count - 6.6K (sorry it’s a long one)
This is part one of two chapters in this mini series.
_______________________________________
Tomorrow was the day, the day you’ve been waiting for, the day you were leaving for an adventure. After 4 years of hard work and dedication, you had graduated Yale University with honours. You’d surpassed anything you felt you could accomplish, with the amazing support of your dad, who had raised you single-handedly. He has supported you throughout your life from scrapped knees and boo boos as a child, to finishing school with the grades you needed to get into Yale.
It was a dream you’d always had, even as a child. You’d pinned up pictures of the college on your wall, telling your dad ‘one day I’ll be here!’ When you received the letter you’d ripped it open with such ferocity, your dad was sure you’d shred your hands. Only to crumple to the floor in floods of tears, walking towards you he settles next to you pulling you in for a big hug, “Hey don’t worry baby girl, it’s not the end of the world we still have other letters coming, other options. No matter what I’m soo proud of you my darling girl” he cooed. You shook your head no, trying to steady your breath “No d…..ad” you stuttered “We did it, I got in, I did it dad! I got in” you continued through staggered breaths, he reached over and pulled it from your grasp reading the words carefully, his hand clamped over his mouth in shock. He started crying too, pulling you in tighter, letting his tears fall freely.
Being the amazing father he was, hours later he was on the phone with his oldest and closest friend Negan, explaining you’d got in, you’d done it, and if Negan could look for a house up there for you both, Negan lived in a small town in Connecticut not too far from Yale. He’d instantly agreed, finding you a lovely 3 bedroom home only a street away from himself. Your dad had been there behind you every step of your life, and he wasn’t about to let this one be any different.
So you packed up your life, making the lengthy trip from Virgina to Connecticut.
The experience has been amazing, you’ve loved every second of college. You came home every night excitedly animating your days to your dad, and many days to Negan too. He would be over often for dinners, you guys also going over his frequently too, the three of you spent many evenings together BBQs, football games, board game nights, you name it. You’d spent a lot of the last 4 years with Negan, he was a great friend to your dad. They’d kept in contact when he had moved from Virgina with his wife, because she wanted to be able to commute to New York easily. She took to the big corporate job like a fish to water, but she began coming home to Negan less and less, giving excuses about early starts and having to stay in some fancy hotel. Unfortunately one day when he made a trip to the city to surprise her, he’d found her rolling around the bed with her boss.
He called later that day to tell your dad what happened, your dad being the great person he is dropped everything and came up here to be with him, leaving you with your grandma for a few weeks.
After a lengthy divorce he’d stuck it out in the sleepy town, deciding he didn’t want to upheave his life once again. You hadn’t known Negan too well then, your dad called him often and you knew his voice, that deep rumbling voice, from their calls. You’d even answered the phone to him a few times, making polite small talk until your dad could take over. But he’d moved to Connecticut when you were only 2 years old, so you’d never really gotten to know him.
That all changed when you moved to start Yale, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t developed an enormous crush on the older man. Gods was he beautiful, he was funny sometimes making you actually cry from laughter. He was kind, loyal, owned his own mechanics garage, he was an all round great guy, and you had no idea why no one had snapped him up yet. Though secretly you were thankful no one had, because the mere thought stirred an ugly pit of jealousy in your stomach.
But tonight things were perfect, you were having a farewell dinner with the two men in your life, sat around the coffee table on your living room floor, eating pizza, heads thrown back in laughter as you whoop your dads ass at monopoly.
“Oh come on y/n not another hotel” your dad pleads playfully.
“I’m afraid so dad, told you the light blue were worth buying, the houses are cheap to buy, I can get as many as I want” you goad in giggles.
“She has you there man! I’d add another to Euston Road if I were you sweetheart! Finish him off” Negan jests.
“Don’t encourage her!” Your dad grumbles, causing you and Negan to roll in laughter even more.
“You know what I think I will” you reply adding another hotel.
Your dad takes his next roll landing on one of your hotel properties,
“Oh shit man! That’s you done isn’t it” Negan teases. Your dad stands then playfully tips the board over, making you gasp in mock shock before falling into giggles once again, in the moment you end up leaning your head against Negan’s shoulder.
“Right that’s it I’m done with this silly game, who wants another beer” your dad laughs.
“Me” you say, Negan nodding in unison his breath slightly shaken from your head still leaning against his shoulder, like it belongs there which in his mind it does. Man he’s dreading you leaving for a year, every time he thinks about it, there’s a constricting feeling in his heart. He brings his arm around you pulling you closer for a second, taking a moment to bask in your warmth. He gives you a quick squeeze, before moving to start packing away the game.
You watch him with a warm smile on your face, my goodness were you going to miss him. But you needed this, you needed to stand on your own two feet and experience some living. You also needed to get over this silly crush, he was 20 years older than you for Christ sake, he probably looked at you like a niece. He definitely wouldn’t return your affections, so you should go and clear your head. See some of the world, meet people and have experiences.
They always say you discover yourself while travelling alone.
You wanted to see if that was true.
But leaving these two behind would be hard, even if it wasn’t forever a year was still a long time. “So sweetheart your really leaving us tomorrow?” Negan asks, “Yup! Just like Bilbo Baggins I’m off on an adventure” you giggle, trying to make light it it, when in fact your heart is sinking at the thought. “Not gonna be the same without you here darlin’” he affirms, there’s a smile on his face but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and those beautiful dimples aren’t showing. For a second you wonder if he returns your feelings, but that wouldn’t make any sense so you push the idea out of your mind.
Your dad arrives back 3 beers in his hands, “I can’t believe my baby girl is going out into the world tomorrow, you promise to write to me every week yeah??” Your dad asks. “You know I can just text you? And call you right?” You answer, “Yeah you can call too, but I want hand written letters to have a part of you still coming home every week” he replies voice sounding emotional, this was a big step for him you had never been away from your dad before. Getting up you give him a big hug, “Ok dad I’ll write to you every week and I’ll send you postcards, so you can see where I’ve been!” You promise. “Yeah that sounds great baby girl” he affirms.
After your dad passes out snoring on the couch, you clean up the pizza boxes with Negan. While you’ve moved on to clearing up the kitchen he stands in the doorway watching you, “You know sweet cheeks, I’d love for some of those hand written letters too” he expresses. Looking up at him in shock, you ask “Really?”, “Yeah I want to hear everything your doing, plus it would be nice to have a part of you here with me too, like I said sweetheart it won’t be the same here without ya” he replies stepping closer, gently brushing a hair out of your face, hazel eyes bearing into you. “Ok Negan I’ll write to you too”, “Good” he sighs, leaning in he kisses your head wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Gonna miss ya kid”, “Yeah I’ll miss you too” you reply.
Letting him out the door you say your goodbyes, before tucking a blanket over your dad.
This was going to be hard……
_______________________________________
You’ve been travelling a week now, slowly making your way down south to Florida. You made sure to stop for a few nights at your grandmas, you loved spending time with her, just like your dad she was a sweet soul, and you’d really enjoyed some long chats and a homemade meal.
The last morning of your stay you popped by taking a look at the house you grew up in, you always wondered if your mother had ever stopped by to see you. Missing you because you’d moved away, would she be proud that you’d made it to Yale, probably not. She’s never cared enough to call, she upped and left the day after you were born. Just left you in the hospital, for your dad to find when he came back in after some rest at home. Leaving your dad to step into both parents roles, which he took on without complaint bringing you up in a home full of love and laughter, you were beyond blessed to have been given him as your dad.
With that you tucked those thoughts away, your dad and grandma love you, are proud of you and support you. You didn’t need anyone else, well except maybe Negan.
By the end of your first week you’d made it to the Croatan National Forest, in North Carolina. You decided to stop here and see the sights, maybe do some hiking, some swimming on the coast. You found a cute little beach rental you booked for a few nights, it looked out to the river which joined the ocean. It was peaceful here, kids had all gone back to school and the soft autumn breeze was setting a chill in the air. So the beach was practically empty, with the exception of a few dog walkers.
Dark skies started settling in, greys and blacks filling the vast space, the clouds looked as if they were rolling towards you. A storm was coming which emitted some excitement in you, to sit there and watch them was one of your most favourite things to do, especially if the lightning was close and you could see it crack across the sky.
Settling in the bay of the bedroom window, you looked out at the water, pulling out your notebook you got to writing your dad his first letter. Folding it up you sealed in in an envelope, adding your home address and a stamp. Then you began to write Negan’s,
Dear Negan,
I’ve made it to North Carolina, to the Croatan National Forest. I’m staying in a really cute little beach house, which was cheap due to the holidays being over. I’m currently sat watching a storm roll in, windows open enjoying the breeze.
I stopped to see Grandma on the way down, she sends her love to Dad and you. She still hasn’t changed bless her, I also stopped by my old neighbourhood to see the house. I didn't feel as sad seeing it as I thought I would. I think that’s because you’ve made our lives so much more incredible. I miss you both it’s odd being without Dad for the first time, but it’s also strange being without you too now. You’ve ingrained yourself into my life now and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I think I’ll take a swim tomorrow if the weather allows it, I may even swim in the rain if I can. So there you go, you can picture me dancing under the storm.
Yours truly
Y/N
Xx
You sealed the letter, writing his address and placing another stamp. Maybe you poured a bit of how you feel about him in there but it felt good to let some of it out, like it was healing a small part of you.
You ran down to the post box before the rain hit, dropping the letters in and running back to your temporary home. Closing the door just as the torrential downpour started. “Phew that was close” you giggle. That evening you sat in your window watching the storm, the bright lightning cracked above illuminating the beach. Rain pouring and winds blowing, while you stayed cozy eating your soup admiring natures fierce show.
When morning came around it was still raining, though the storm had passed. You threw on your bathing suit and braved the weather, running into the water with a loud gasp as the cool liquid surrounded you. You laid back watching the rain fall from the sky, in that moment you’d never felt so free.
_______________________________________
Back home Negan received his letter a few days later, he’d been checking his post box every single day, like a man deranged. ‘Finally’ he thought tearing open the envelope before he even made in back inside. Sitting down at his dining room table he read your words, smile adorning his features, dimples pulling deep. ‘Ingrained himself into your life, and you wouldn’t change it for the world’ for the first time he allowed himself to hope, that just maybe you returned his feelings.
Was this your way of telling him so? He didn’t know but he needed to find out, he’d have to play this safe though, edge it out of you slowly, god only knows what would happen if he assumed wrong, you’d tell your Dad no doubt, he’d loose you and his best friend in one go, he couldn’t risk that.
Pulling out his phone he sent you a message,
‘Hey sweetheart,
Thank you for my little letter, I hope you had fun swimming and dancing in the storm, though I also hope you stayed safe.
You’ve also ingrained yourself into my life angel face, came into it like a spitfire but I wouldn’t have it any other way either. Enjoy your next week, just make sure you stay safe.
Negan
Xxx
He sent the text, and waited under baited breath for a response. He almost jumped out of his chair when his phone pinged.
Hi Negan
Your welcome, I can assure you I am staying safe, I’m checking my oil and water levels too, as promised. Car is running smooth still :)
‘Spitfire’? I wouldn’t say that! But I’m glad you wouldn’t have it any other way because your stuck with me now.
I’ll send you your next letter same time this week, till then ……
Y/N
Xxx
He smiles to himself once more, you most certainly are a spitfire. But you’re also the best thing to ever come into his life, he hopes one day he’ll be able to tell you so.
_______________________________________
End of your second week, it’s rushed by so fast and you can’t believe your already in Jacksonville Florida. Today your sat on the beach it’s much warmer here, no sign of any autumn breeze and the sunny weather bringing many people to the beach. Your currently writing to your dad again while listening to the soft waves crashing onto the shore. Finishing his letter you once again start writing one to Negan,
Dear Negan,
What a week I’ve had! Can you believe I’m already in Florida? Today I’m sat on Jacksonville beach watching the waves crashing. It’s much busier here and much warmer, apparently there’s a swell coming in tomorrow so I may try surfing. I’ll be sure to send you both some hilarious pictures, of me falling on my face.
I’m staying two nights here in a hotel overlooking the beach, the buildings here on the coast are like mini skyscrapers. I think they may be too tall, it ruins the feel of the place. My next move may be Orlando Disney, I’ve always wanted to go! May even get made into a Disney princess! Because hey you only live once, which one should I go for?
I’m starting to really miss you both, how’s my dad coping? I hope my boys are looking after each other,
Well I’m going to go find somewhere for dinner, speak soon.
Y/N
Xxx
Getting up you brush the gritty sand off your legs, setting out on a mission to find somewhere to post these letters. After exploring a few busy streets, you see it, Bingo! You spot the blue metal of the US postal boxes, slotting in your letters before finding a diner to eat dinner in.
Back home 48 hours later Negan received your second letter, “my boys” he reads, the thought of being yours makes his cheeks flush, and his heart quicken. He feels like a teenage boy again at 52 years old, he’d be yours in a heartbeat if you’d ask him. But he knows it’s out of the question, your his best friends kid, and what would you want with an old man? Your so beautiful and he doesn’t feel he’s got much to offer you at this point of his life. Even so he will allow himself to enjoy these letters, living in a little daydream for a while.
After pacing his kitchen for a good ten minutes he decides he has to talk to you, the words “my boys” still swirling around his head. Giving in and pulling out his phone he sends you a text,
Hey sweetheart
I remember Jacksonville well, I visited about 15 years ago now. I went to a work conference there. Your right the buildings are too tall beside the ocean, definitely not one of my favourite beaches.
Surfing? How did that turn out I’m still waiting on this photo.
“Your boys hey” I like the sound of that darlin. But yeah I’m making sure your dad cooks for himself, and I fixed his lawn mower for him, so your gardens looking a lot better now!
Make sure you continue to stay safe sweetheart, I hope you enjoy Disney, but you don’t need to dress up to be a princess you’ve always been one.
Negan
Xx
Ping
His heart is beating rapidly in his chest as he opens your reply,
Hey Negan
Actually I did ok surfing, I managed to stand up and everything lol
Xx
Ping
He opens the slightly blurry image of you standing up on a large longboard, big smile on your face. You look so beautiful and so happy.
Ping
So as you can see, not a complete disaster! I went to Disney world yesterday, it was great fun but all in all too many people about. I’ve set off west now aiming in a general direction of New Orleans, as I’ve always wanted to go. I think it may take a week or two to get there though!
And don’t worry I will be careful I promise. You’ll always be my boys
Y/n
Xxx
He smiles to himself you were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.
Ok sweetheart
Look at you! You’re a natural! Well I’ll wait with bated breath until your next letter, I think you should send two a week I Think one a week is just too long to wait for sweet cheeks.
Negan
Xx
Ping
Ok Negan
Two it is, I’m off to bed now
Night
Y/N
Xx
He grins, two letters a week, he feels all important now. He wonders if your dad will also get two letters a week? Or if he really is special enough to be the only one.
_______________________________________
A few weeks pass in a blur, you keep your promise to Negan and write to him twice a week. Not only that you both text constantly and have started video calling frequently too. Your currently walking through the vibrant streets of New Orleans with your phone in hand, on video call to Negan as you show him the current festivities happening. “Look at the colours Negan! I’ve never seen anywhere so bright and colourful, and the musics been incredible.” You ramble off excitedly, “Yeah I can see that sweetheart, I wish I was with you right now it looks incredible” he replies.
“I wish you were with me too, it’s amazing! I’ll have to bring dad here at some point.” You gush,
“Yeah maybe we should all plan a trip” he replies and you nod along, “Yeah that sounds good!”
“So where are you off too next?” Negan asks, “Well I’ve booked to stay two weeks on this women only ranch just outside Austen Texas, so I’m going to enjoy a slower pace for a couple of weeks, I’ll get to go riding everyday and read books in the sun” you answered, “That sounds like a good plan sweetheart, you haven’t slowed down in weeks.” Negan hums, truth be told you were looking forward to slowing down for a bit, it’s been a full on couple of months, and as much as you’ve enjoyed it you’ve burnt yourself out a little.
Back at your hotel room you and Negan chat over video call for hours, you admire him as he throws his head back in laughter, while laying back on his couch. You're sat cross legged on your bed, window open so you can see and hear the ongoing festivities outside, the cheerful jazz music floating around your room.
“I can’t believe I’ve been away two months now, it’s gone so fast”, it hasn’t felt fast to Negan, it’s felt like every hour has dragged on without you home. Nights with your dad are much quieter, and your presence is constantly missed. “Yeah sweetheart” he agrees half heartedly, and you sense the change in his tone. “Everything ok?” You ask, voice laced with concern. “Of course darlin we just miss you is all” Negan admits.
“I miss you too you know, life on my own has definitely been quiet. It’s why I enjoy these video calls so much, it almost feels like your here, like it’s a normal Friday night Just without the beers and pizza” you laugh.
His heart warms at your confession, slowly over these weeks he’s noticed little things. The way you look at him, or the way your face lights up when you answer his calls, your letters have become sweeter too. He allows himself to truly hope, that maybe you return his feelings. He’s in half a mind to jump in the car and meet you on your travels, take you into his arms and lay it all out, tell you how he feels and hope you say you feel them too. But his mind always falls back to your Dad, his best friend of nearly 30 years. How would he take it, would he ever talk to him again? Would he forbid him ever seeing you again? It’s these thoughts that stop him ever taking anything further than flirty remarks, and terms of endearment, but god does he wish he could just take you in his arms, feel your skin against his own as he spends all night worshiping your body like the goddess you are.
“Negan…..Negan are you with me” your voice cuts through his daydreaming, “Yeah sorry sweetheart, must be getting tired it’s past this old man’s bedtime” he teases. You huff out a small giggle “You’re not old Negan” you reply. “I’m 52 darlin, I’m nearly at the end of middle aged” Negan groans, you shake your head in disagree “Nope I don’t agree”, “Well I’ll take that” Negan laughs, “We should get some sleep though, it’s like 1am! Night Negan”
“Night Beautiful”
As the call ends you sit there shocked, that’s new, he just called you beautiful! He’s never used that pet name before, usually it’s darlin or sweetheart. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. You fall asleep that night with the smile never leaving, listening to the distant hum of jazz.
_______________________________________
The ranch is beautiful, picturesque like a postcard. You feel like you’ve stepped into some country and western film, you’re currently sat under a large tree watching the horses gallop about the pens. There’s a few other women staying at the ranch with you, and you’ve enjoyed getting to know them. One is a lot older than the rest of you, her name’s Frances, she’s been cooking for you all and mothering everyone.
It’s been nice, you weren’t used to a motherly woman being in your life. You’ve told her so too, told her about your life and that your dad raised you alone. She’s been a great listener, she brought up her two sons and how she couldn’t understand a mother ever leaving her children, she could never. When she asked if there was anyone special in your life, you’d bitten your lip and done your best to redirect the conversation. After much convincing you’d told her there was a man who held your affections, but he was much older than you. So it wasn’t an easy situation, but she’d told you there’s no age restrictions on love, so long as both parties involved were adults and felt the same.
It lead you to hope, that maybe you and Negan could maybe one day be something. You were starting to also hope that maybe he felt the same way you did, he had called you beautiful after all.
Taking out a pen and paper you began writing your letter’s.
Dear Negan
This ranch is beautiful, even in the sweltering heat it’s like something out of an old movie, there’s other women here too so it’s been nice to get to know them and make some friends.
I’m currently watching this black horse run through the field, he’s almost ethereal the way he moves. He looks so free, no worries in the world, and I fell like I’m witnessing his wildest joys and deepest secrets.
There’s a lovely lady here called Frances, she’s been like the mother hen to everyone. I’ve had many chats with her, especially about mum. She couldn’t understand how she just left me, said she never could leave her children. I do wonder if she ever thinks about me at all? Maybe she does, or maybe she just moved on with her life and never looked back.
I talked about you too, how important you are in my life too. I’ve been thinking a lot recently. Anyways I’ll send another letter soon.
With Love
Y/N
Xxx
After sealing the letter you wondered if you should send it, had you made things too obvious? Maybe you needed too to see if there was something there? With a deep breath you dropped it in the postal box, placing it to the back of your mind for now, before joining the rest of the girls for the activities for the day.
_______________________________________
Just two days later Negan received your letter, reading the words he felt incredibly sad. You were hurting he could tell, he doesn’t understand how your mother left you either, she’d never know how incredible the girl she brought into the world turned out to be.
Because you were, you’re incredible. So kind, loyal, brave with a determination he’s never witnessed before, and you were so beautiful beyond compare. So yeah she was the one who had missed out, missed watching that baby girl become the most amazing woman. Something himself and your Dad had never taken for granted, even only really getting to know you these last four years, he’s seen you change and thrive becoming the amazing person you are today.
He’s glad you’re making friends along the way though, he was worried you were starting to get a bit lonely being alone for so long. Still the thought of coming to the ranch himself and holding you in his arms was so compelling right now, you were sad and he felt such a great need to make you smile, or hold you as you cried. You deserve the world, he hopes he can show you that someday.
His heart lurches at the thought of you talking about him, and thinking about him? Thinking how? Is that a confession? Or just you missing home? He would call you later, see what he can coax out of you.
You were sat on the porch watching the sunset, the sunsets down south were the most beautiful you’d ever seen, the oranges and yellows shine over the whole landscape, painting the buildings and your skin in a warm orange glow. As you were admiring the skies your phone started buzzing, removing it from your jeans pocket you smile seeing Negan's name flash up.
“Hey Negan, how are you? Sorry it’s been a little while since we’ve called, I’ve noticed only certain areas get signal” you explain as you answer the video call.
Smiling at you “That’s ok sweetheart, I understand, you’re out in the sticks no one gets phone signal there. How are you doing darlin? I got your letter today and I thought I’d call you”
“Yeah I’m ok, I felt sad for a little while thinking about mum, but I’ve realised how lucky I am to have the people I do in my life. I have people who love me and some people don’t have that.” You admit.
“It’s ok to feel sad though sweetheart, what she did to you wasn’t right and it’s ok to be hurt by that, but yeah you are loved, sometimes I don’t think you know how much your loved sweet girl, your dad, your grandma, myself, we adore you, you’re not alone not ever and I hope you know that.” Negan assures.
Tears well up in your eyes, you swallow a large gulp before answering him “Thanks Negan I needed to hear that” you admit.
“Anytime baby girl”
A small creak behind alerts you of someone’s presence, “Sorry love I just came to tell you dinners ready, if you’d like to join us” Frances explains.
“Oh yeah please, I’ll just be a moment” you answer, she nods walking back into the barn.
“Well it looks like I have dinner to attend” you laugh, “Ok beautiful, enjoy your dinner I’ll speak to you soon” “Yeah speak soon” you smile, hanging up the phone you stand up and dust yourself off before heading inside.
Frances meets you at the doors with a knowing smile, “Was that him?” She asks, blushing you look downwards, “Yeah that’s him” you admit. She nods before saying “Marry that man girl, if he looks at you like that, and speaks to you like that, you’d be a fool not too”. You gasp “How much did you hear?” She gives a gentle laugh, “Enough. Now come on in and eat” she guides you inside, but your whole stomachs fluttering now, and you don’t know how much you will actually be able to eat.
_______________________________________
It was the morning you were leaving the ranch, you felt sad to be going. It had been such a positive experience being here with these women, you’d made some friends and you have exchanged numbers with Frances, who would love to stay in contact. Hugging everyone goodbye you waved your last farewell as you entered your car, today you’d be starting your trip to Los Angeles. Although you didn’t think you’d want to visit Hollywood, you had mapped out some lovely vineyards and beaches.
Starting the engine you made your way off the ranch and onto your next adventure. Driving down the highway you turned you music up, opening the windows letting the wind whip at your hair, singing along to your favourite song. Determined to enjoy every aspect of your road-trip, including the tedious highways.
You made it as far as the Texas/ New Mexico boarder before pulling into a motel for the night. Once you were settled in your room you pulled your phone out and called your dad, “Hey baby girl! Long time no speak, where have you been! Only one letter in two weeks and no phone calls! I’ve been worried!” Your dad stresses.
“I’m so sorry Dad the ranch had nearly no signal, Negan managed to call once while I was there, I think I found a fluke spot that evening, because I couldn’t get through to either of you again” you explain.
“That’s alright honey, I just worry, you know I do! How have you been? I didn’t know you spoke to Negan, do you call each other often?” He asks, and you can tell the confusion in his tone.
“Umm yeah we talk a couple of times a week I guess, same as you and I talk. I think he likes to know what I’m up too. I’m good yeah thanks dad been super busy though, but yeah I’m having a great time, how have you been doing?” You answer.
“Yeah no complaints here, I miss you though. House is too quiet without you kiddo, and it’s ok I just didn’t know the two of you were talking, he’s never said anything to me. Other then the fact you send him the occasional letter too” your dad explains.
“Yeah I write to you both, as per requested” you laugh before adding “I hope your looking after yourself though dad, and actually cooking? Not ordering take out every night. I do worry about you both when I’m not there, you don’t have the best eating habits” you giggle.
“Hey we are doing just fine! I did a BBQ the other day we even had salad!” You dad defends.
Laughing out loud now you reply “Oh some salad too! Well I don’t know why I was worrying then”
“Oi little miss, I do just fine! I managed to cook for you ok growing up!” He argues playfully.
“Yeah I know dad I know, I’m just teasing, well I’m glad you doing good, I’m going to head to bed it’s been a long day, lots of driving” you admit.
“Ok kiddo sleep tight”
“Will do night dad”
Ending the call you lay back on the bed and sigh, your dad seemed so confused about you talking to Negan, you hope you didn’t give your feelings about the man away? Nah he was probably just surprised. It will be fine, you think.
After getting ready for bed your phone starts buzzing again, you glance at it sat on the bedside table. ‘Video call from Negan’ grinning you answer the call “Hey!”, “Hey beautiful, how is your journey going?” You admire him for a second, dimples showing as he grins through the phone at you, why does he have to be so beautiful, “Yeah it’s going well I’m on the Texas/ New Mexico boarder, in a small town called Eunice I think. I’m in a small motel, I’ll be carrying on towards Los Angeles in the morning” you answer.
He’s walking about his kitchen, tidying up and nodding as you speak. You love the domestic feel to it, you wish you were there with him, just doing ordinary household chores. “That’s good! You’re making great time sweetheart. And at least now you have signal” he laughs, “Yeah there’s great service here, so what have you been up too?” You ask, “Not much darlin, just work. Some poor guy came in last week with a blown head gasket, it’s taking a lot of time to fix it. So I’ve been at the garage long hours this week. Other than that not a lot, Bill is trying to set me up on some date with his wife’s friend, but I’m not too sure” he admits.
Your stomach sinks at that, a date, no don’t go on a date you think, especially not when I’m thousands of miles across the country and can’t do anything to help stop it. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but you try to keep yourself together. “Yeah?” You ask, voice sounding way more strained than you hoped. “Yeah, you ok sweetheart?” He asks looking at you full of concern. “Yeah I need to umm go get some sleep it’s late and I’m exhausted” you blurt out in haste.
“Yeah ok darlin, goodnight”, “Night” you answer before quickly hanging up. Tears sting your eyes as you lay back on the bed, harshly rubbing the tears away you sit up, sod this I’m going for a drink, you determine. Pulling some jeans and a jacket on, you cross over the road to the local bar.
Entering the building the smell of stale beer and smoke hits you, wrinkling your nose in slight disgust you sit at the bar, “A beer please” you ask the bartender, who nods at you placing a bottle in front of you.
Across the country Negan can’t get your reaction out of his head. He was thinking maybe the date would be a good way to move on. Because you probably didn’t feel the same as him, he was delusional right? Thinking he saw signs that you wanted him. But you went from cheerful to distressed in seconds, now he doesn’t know, he could always ask you, he knows this. But he also knows he couldn’t deal with rejection, not from you. He sits down on his couch placing his head in his hands as he tries to make sense of it all.
You on the other hand have just stumbled back into your room after a few drinks, and you feel in your drunken state that your heads so much clearer. With the new found confidence the alcohol has given you, you pull out your phone and send Negan a text before passing out on your bed.
Don’t go on that date Negan, please don’t …I love you
The buzzing of his phone he’s pulled out of his thoughts, reading your message he’s sat in shock. You love him? Gods you love him! That’s it he needs to see you. Jumping up he rushes to pack a bag, throwing as much as he can fit in the duffle. Moving to grab his keys, phone, charger and passport. A flight to you will be the quickest way!
Leaving the house he sends you a message back,
Don’t go anywhere sweetheart, I’m on my way! Xx
#negan smith#Dbf Negan#negan x reader#twd negan#negan x you#the walking dead negan#negan fanfiction#negan x female reader#dads best friend#Dbf x reader
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Stable Birth (Co-written with @cassieoz)
One of my favorite birth fic writers around is @cassieoz and she had this delicious Stable Birth idea after reading my story, Farm Life. Here is what her brilliant mind came up with. Hope you guys enjoy this one! cassieoz is such an amazing writer who crafts empowering birth fics and always have incredible fresh new ideas.
Pairings: Original Male Character x Original Female Character
Summary: You've given birth many times before that by your last pregnancy, the baby just slipped out. But sometimes. no matter how many times you've done something in the past, exceptions are bound to happen.
Warnings: MDNI. 18+. Very graphic and sexual birth.
Divider credit @saradika-graphics ❤🙏🏻
I have been working all day avoiding the constant discomfort in my lower back.
“Hooo…” I let out a breath after a contraction. It’s not gonna take too long now, but I moved on with my tasks anyway, albeit slower than I usually did. I went on to do my chores in the house and take care of my really young children.
Once I’ve fed and bathed all the kids, I strapped on the youngest one on my back and stepped outside to tend to the animals before I went over to the stables. But as I bent down to scoop up the feeds, I was wracked with a contraction. It was harder and longer than the one before. When it passed, I slowly stood back up and felt another milder contraction creep up.
I breathed through it. Having done this so many times before, this should be easy, I thought to myself.
So I went into the stables to clean and feed the horses and that’s when I felt the head slowly descending into my birth canal. The pressure between my legs became almost too much, but I soldiered through and went on feeding the horses while fighting the urge to push, holding off on giving birth until my husband gets home.
I have been in the stables in the past hour, just finishing up when I suddenly felt the most intense contraction and collapsed among the hay bales. I fought the urge to push, but my body is doing it for me.
–
I find you in the stall struggling to breathe, panting frantically and fighting the strong urge to push. You looked up at me and immediately you reached and clutched my hand tightly, "I think it's time!"
I took the kid off your back and I helped lay you down on the hay. You hiked your skirts up and started pushing until the top of the head peaked through your dripping and puffy folds.
Another contraction hit you and you pushed hard, but the head did not move. You cried out in pain and frustration.
“Why is it not budging?” You cried and the toddler in my arms began to squall so I called out for one of our older children to take the toddler inside.
"Hold my hand and push with all your might. You know that we always have huge babies!" I managed to joke and you let out a weak chuckle through the pain.
Finally, our eldest came running in the stable with one of the younger ones in tow. Our eldest was unfazed but the younger one was horrified by what’s happening. Seeing you in pain lying on the hay, with your big, overdue belly and wet puffy, leaky and barely crowning pussy on display.
“This one seems to be the biggest yet!” You managed to whimper as you continued to push through the next contraction.
"Go! Take your little brothers and call your aunt to help with dinner for the others, sweetie! Go now!" I urged our eldest as she picked up the toddler and ran with her youngest siblings back to the house.
“You have to do something! Help me out!” You pleaded, as you tried lying on your side and holding up one of your legs to the side to give the head more room.
"Listen to me! Just pant so I can check you!"
“Oooh… hurry, it burns! It wants out! But it’s too big!”
You panted, huffed and puffed, fighting the urge to push so I could check on the baby’s head. I inserted a finger to trace around the head and you screamed in pain. So far, after many consecutive births you have not torn anything, but this might just take the cake.
“The head is too big.” I laughed.
“Oh Christ!” You exclaimed, feeling the pressure mounting again as a contraction hits you.
I rock you on your side and start to circle your clit vigorously.
“Oooh!” You squealed in surprise. “Mmmm… yeah, keep going.”
I rub faster and harder over your swelling spot and tell you to breathe with the pressure.
I could tell you’re near. You felt your oncoming orgasm climbing up while you continued to pant the head out. More fluids trickle from your puffy folds, both from arousal and from the amniotic sack.
"Good girl!” I cooed, placing a hand on the crest of your big belly, feeling it harden under my palm. “I think it's almost time to push down with the pressure.” I told you, and you nodded as you took a deep breath, preparing for a long and hard push. “Darling, this is the biggest we have so far, it will hurt A LOT. So, hold my free hand and bear down through the contraction, okay?"
You could only nod, already beginning to bear down, your face scrunching, beads of sweat rolling down your face.
The head begins to slip out slowly, and you let out a long and loud scream.
"Good girl! Big, huge push! Let it go! Let the head come out! Be as loud as you can!"
I keep rubbing faster and harder. The head is the biggest ever. I need to help you squeeze it out. It's so painful but you can do it! You have done it so many times before.
You are puffing wildly as the orgasmic pressure mixes with the stretching intensity of crowning. You push with it, howling with the burning and throbbing.
The head is stretching you wider and wider. You are slowly losing all control as your body explodes with your first huge orgasm. The head barrels forward but it's not fully crowning yet.
“I-it’s not working…” You trembled weakly, sounding pained. “I don’t think I could do it, you’d have to cut me.”
"Listen to me! Just listen to my voice and just push with the pressure. Don't think! You will be alright! Just completely let go!"
I continued to rub and circle your clit and moved a hand to squeeze one of your big heavy tits, and stimulate one of your erect nipples with my free hand.
“Ooooooooohhhhh…” You moaned and groaned, long and hard at the pressure and pleasure.
"Thats it! Scream as loud as you want! Just let the baby go! It's time to bring our next baby out of you! Big, big push!"
“I’m tearing! I’m tearing!”
"You are not tearing! You are stretching so well. Come on now!"
You are losing all sense of time and reason. All you can feel is the gigantic shape of the head squeezing painfully forward with each massive effort. You can barely breathe but the urge to push is uncontrollable.
The unstoppable need to expel the baby is all you can focus on now. "Good girl! I love it when you reach this point! Birth it! Make it come!"
You feel the overwhelming pressure, pain and pleasure mixing into an almost insurmountable amount. You grabbed one of your leaking breasts, squeezing and rolling a hardened leaking nipple as you panted and pushed.
Sweat ran down your face as you squeezed and pushed, and with a loud moan of pleasure and pain the head finally popped out, fluids gushing as it did.
“Ooooh! Shit! That feels so good.” You breathily said with a smile despite the pain.
The contractions haven't stopped but the release of the head and fluids made it significantly less painful. You breathed deeply as the shoulders rotated and more of the huge baby came forward.
You pushed some more, "Hoooo... ooohhh pull it out already!" You gasped, as I chuckled at your mix of emotions and guided the body out.
"Just a little more," I assured you, "Come on, just one more big push."
"Hhhmmmm..." you moaned and started pushing again, feeling the baby’s really wide shoulders against its enormous body sink against your opening, inching forward a little more.
It was hitting a sweet spot inside you that made you start to moan and whimper louder again. Being already overstimulated, it didn't take long before you once again felt surges of pleasure mounting.
You huffed and puffed and gave one last big push and the baby came surging forward with more birth fluids.
Your entire body shook from such intense orgasm and the sheer exhaustion of trying to birth such a humongous baby that you fell back into the hay, trying to catch your breath. You gave a final, big push that finally frees the entire baby as well as the biggest release of your life.
You came every single time you gave birth, but this was different. This was the biggest baby you’ve birthed and the strongest and biggest orgasm you’ve had ever.
I, for one thing, already love having lots of babies with you. I love seeing you swell all big and round full of my child, and I love it even more when I help you birth each one of them. You love the experience equally if not more, as you mentioned once that it makes you feel strong and empowered.
That's why you love having lots of babies as it is the marital essence of being a woman and the discovery of the ultimate power of being free!
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Castaways
Ghoul! Cooper Howard x Alien! Reader
A/n: I may or may not post the next chapter today since I’ve got a bit of a road trip today. I might finish editing it and post it soon after. I’d like to thank you guys for taking the time out of your day to read my fic. It means a lot even if not a lot of people are reading it lol -3- ily 🥹
Once again, the reader will be referred to as Elena for the first half of the chapter since it’ll be in Cooper’s perspective and he still thinks you’re someone else.
Brief summary of the story: you are an alien that crash lands on Earth in your way to another planet. Cooper runs into you on his mission to find his bounty.
Chapters:
1 2 3
The sun beat down on the Ghoul’s big bald head, cooking the skin a bit more as if it hadn’t cooked enough when the nukes fell almost two hundred years ago. His burn scars shone in the sun’s harsh light as his face cooked onto the bare sand on the floor. The horse that he’d collected sat by him loyally as he waited for his new owner to wake up from his long slumber, listening to his owner’s open-mouthed light snores.
“Well, looky what we’ve got here,” the Ghoul’s eyes stirred behind the lids as he started to wake up. The voice was familiar to him. “You look like a goddamn potato that’s been laying on one side for way too long,” the voice carried a similar accent to his.
The Ghoul groaned as he lifted himself up a bit, sitting up and placing his cowboy hat back on his head before looking up at the man speaking to him. Another ghoul. “Yeah, you’re quite the looker,” he muttered sarcastically, shaking his head and wiping the sand that clung to his face off. Although they’d been deeply affected on a physical level by the radiation when the nukes hit, his friend had seemed to have gotten the shorter end of the stick out of the two. Where the older Hollywood star had developed scars and lost a nose, he’d left mostly intact. At least when compared to the younger one. There were chunks of skin missing from his scalp. Where his eyes were supposed to be white, they were red. His irises were a light blue colour, the red made them pop out in an eerie way.
“This is an odd place to be nappin’, old man,” the other ghoul held out his hand to help the bounty hunter up. The bounty hunter thanked him quietly as he took the irradiated man’s hand and stood up. “What’re you doin’ around these parts?”
“The usual,” the older ghoul answered vaguely, not bothering to go into details. He didn’t need to. They’d known each other long enough to know what kind of jobs they’d picked up. “You?” He nodded at him, keeping his eyes on his old friend.
“Me too,” he paused. His eyes lit up as an idea flashed into his mind. “Wanna work together again, like the good ol’ days? We’ll probably find her quicker.”
The Ghoul scoffed, “after what happened the last time I worked with you, I think I’d rather work by myself, thanks.” He moved to pick his bag up off the floor, it had fallen at one point when ‘Elena’ had, he hated to admit, knocked him out.
“Ah, don’t be like that, Coop, it wasn’t anything personal! It was a mistake! I was a fool in love!”
“James, I missed out on a whole lot of caps because of your foolishness. How can I be sure you won’t fall in love with this bounty?”
“It won’t happen again, I swear. I learned my lesson.”
“I really needed those caps, buddy.”
“I know… I’m really sorry about that, Coop. If it’s any consolation, I fucked myself more when I did what I did.”
The old Hollywood star smiled his signature grin. It was the same old smile, just on a new, scarred and dried face with yellow teeth. “I know, that’s why I was able to forgive you for it.” He chuckled as he climbed atop his recently acquired horse.
“Does that mean you’ll work with me again?”
“It means if you step on my toes, I’ll cut yours off.” Cooper flashed him a side glance as he signalled the horse to start walking.
James nodded and did the same, following his old friend into the forest as he held the rope attached to his horse to guide it.
“The girl went back this way, I’m sure.”
“You’re… sure? You think this woman would be that stupid? Now after having evaded countless bounty hunters for months?”
The Ghoul gave him a side glance before averting his eyes forward once again. “I fucked her friends up pretty good. They’re in no condition to travel.”
The other ghoul took him at his word. He’d known Cooper for a very long time, before the war. They were both Hollywood stars. Well, Coop was. James was up and coming. He was about to make his big break when the nukes hit. He looked up to his senior, constantly asking for his advice and trying to spend time with him whenever he could. Cooper was the first real friend James was able to make as a youngblood in old Hollywood. They also grew up in similar environments, both of them being from the South and all. He was his mentor. After the nukes hit, they’d run into each other, working with one another on bounties every so often, but choosing to work separately, for the most part. He still looked up to him now.
As their horses walked them through the forest, they caught up with each other. It had been at least fifteen years since they’d last seen one another. A lot could happen in ten years. They laughed about the bounties they’d taken separate from each other that had led them to lead lives in different parts of the country. Every time they finished catching up, James felt the need to reminisce about their prewar life. Cooper’s face always contorted the same way when the other ghoul would bring it up. He didn’t like talking about it all that much in general. But he still engaged in the conversation and eased into it when James was the one bringing the topic up. There were two things he never dared to mention: Barb and Janey. Well, three, if you counted his old dog. The younger ghoul may have had his flaws, but he knew how to respect his friend’s boundaries and that was something no amount of caps could pay for.
An hour or so longer had passed before they were able to stumble across the battered space disc again. None of the lights were on, it looked vacant, abandoned. The Ghoul cursed under his breath and hopped off his horse; observing the surrounding area for any clues, any indication of the direction they had last gone.
The reputable bounty hunter continued to scour the area until he was able to find three sets of footprints, all different sizes, heading north. “B-I-N-G-O,” he spelt out, turning to his associate. “Let’s go, pretty boy.” He climbed back up his horse, softly kicking the horse on its side to signal him to start moving again. This time, now that they had a lead, they went at a faster pace.
It didn’t take them long to find the group of fugitives. He raised an eyebrow in confusion when he saw the two men he’d shot down standing behind his target like nothing had happened a few hours ago. The younger Ghoul shot him a questioning look, as if to say I thought you said you’d fucked ‘em up. The Ghoul stayed quiet, his hand at his hip, close to his gun holster. Readying himself for an attack. His apprentice did the same.
“Took you long enough, bunny,” ‘Elena’ greeted the Ghoul with her arms crossed. She curled an eyebrow, turning her head to James. “I see you’ve brought someone. Is kidnapping people your way of making friends?”
James snorted, earning a glare from Cooper. “Look, sweetheart,” the older ghoul sighed, “it ain’t nothin’ personal, I’m just tryin’ to do my job.”
“Yeah, well, we’re just trying to do ours. I don’t understand why you keep following us. If you could kindly stop, we would greatly appreciate it.” She started to turn away when she felt that damned lasso encircle her at the waist again. She was harshly tugged back in his direction, her hands held by that rope tightly at her sides. She squirmed, attempting to wring herself out.
“I’m sorry, darlin’, I’ve got a job to do,” he was adamant about taking her with him. She could see it in his eyes that no matter how many times she’d knock him out, he’d keep coming.
‘Elena’ growled loudly in frustration, it was almost animalistic, otherworldly. She took a deep breath before speaking. “Look, mister.” She began, trying to wriggle out of the lasso to no avail. Her hands were pinned to her sides, she felt like a merp–the Nembarian equivalent of a worm. “I’m really trying my hardest not to have to maim or murder you—“
She was interrupted by Cooper scoffing, “you? Murder or maim me?”
Elena closed her eyes and took another deep breath to calm herself down, “if you could just stop following me and leave me alone—“
“Now, you listen here, missy. I’ve got a job to do and a reputation to uphold. So I’m just gon’ take you back down to Nevada and you can deal with the real problem there.”
‘Elena’s’ face scrunched up again, “what the fuck is a Nevada and why the fuck are you taking me there?”
“I don’t know, sis. This guy’s creep, I think he’s trying to turn you into a sex slave or something,” she heard Nikk say.
“Well? Can ya help your big sis out? Or are you gonna let me become a sex slave to this weird—” she cut herself off once she saw her brother punch that Ghoul in the face, causing the Ghoul to let go of the lasso that oppressed her. “—oh… Thank you!” She sang, quickly removing the rope from around her and springing into action.
The other ghoul started to try and catch her, once again, she activated the sound weapon she had in her watch's arsenal for the third time in the span of a day. The two ghouls and her brother groaned. ‘Elena’ rolled her eyes and had another set of headsets materialise over Nikki’s ears to spare him from the auditory warfare.
“Now listen here, you fucks!” She yelled over the noise, “we’re gonna go and you’re going to leave us alone. The next time you come across us, I won’t be kind enough to use this!” She announced.
The Ghoul and his friend looked over at one another, as if silently planning their next attack. One, two, three, Cooper mouthed before they each lunged at the siblings. The reputable bounty hunter removed her ear protection; James did the same to her brother.
Elena moaned in pain, her hands clamping over her ears. She cursed under her breath. She had tried to be kind to this man by not cracking his skull open and here he was, getting in your way again. The Ghoul grabbed her by the waist to keep her close, snaking up to move her hand from her ear. His other hand was pointing his gun at her side. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his lips almost touching the skin, enunciating every word that came out of his mouth. “Now you’re going to turn that off, bunny, or I’ll shoot.”
A laugh bubbled from her throat, “you’re not going to. You need me alive. It’ll be a pain for you to nurse me to health—“
“Very perceptive of you, bunny. Now perceive this, I don’t need any of you alive. Not him,” he nodded toward Nikk, “and definitely not the other one hiding behind the tree with his gun pointed at me.”
She heard Dimiil chuckle, “hah, you got me.” She heard her brother's gun go off –zoom– and saw the laser shoot clean through her attacker’s shoulder.
“That’s a cute little light show you’re puttin’ on, buddy.” He grimaced, looking at the clean hole that had burned through his skin and bones before shooting in her brother's direction. The shot was narrowly missed. Her brother alternated shooting between the two ghouls, giving her and Nikki the opportunity to run away from the ghouls and grab their own guns. Once they had their guns in hand, they pointed them at the two bounty hunters.
The shoot out was at a standstill. Tensions were high. They all looked at each other, fingers on their triggers, watching each other closely. Cooper started to cough violently, that seemed to distract his friend momentarily. The three aliens took advantage of the distraction and moved to one side, activating a force field to serve as a barrier from their assailants. They watched as James dug out a strange contraption and had Cooper inhale some kind of liquid out of it.
Elena’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to observe the contents in the vial. Her eyes lit up when she recognised what it was.
Their eyes turned back to the only woman in the bunch. The ghouls pointed their guns at the group. “Go ahead, shoot. It won’t do you any good.” She dared them. The force field was invisible until they took her up on her dare and started shooting at it. Blue light pulsed on the spots that were hit by the bullets. The bullet shells ricocheted off the barrier, back toward them. None of the bullet shells hit James or Cooper, luckily for them. They looked on in confusion. “What do we need to give you so you’ll leave us alone?” She asked.
“What are you?” The older ghoul asked, looking up at the three figures on the other side of the force field.
“Answer my question.”
Cooper stood up, walking up to the force field, his face barely touching it. If he had a nose, it would’ve pressed against the barrier. He stared at her defiantly, clenching his jaw. “You answer mine.”
“These faces are not ours,” Dimiil answered, getting the Ghoul’s attention. “Now, what will it take for you to stand down, sir?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“That’s as much information as we can safely provide you.”
“Well, that ain’t good enough.”
“What are these people paying you?” Elena questioned, hoping that if she’d offered to double the payment, they’d do as asked. Not that they’d even have the means to pay them what they wanted; but knowing was a good place to start.
“If y’all give us a lifetime supply of chems and a steady income of caps for the rest of our lives, we’ll leave y’all alone,” Cooper answered their previous question sarcastically. He was half joking. “All while keepin’ my reputation in tact, of course.”
Nikkand’r rolled his eyes. “Well, aren’t you a walk in—“
“The chemicals, I can get that done, easy peasy. But the caps…” the girl's eyebrows furrowed as she spooked her head. “I mean, how many do you need? Isn’t one hat enough?”
“He probably wants more to change his style up,” said Dimiil.
“Right, because of the lack of hair and the weird scalps. They’re probably insecure about that,” Nikk pointed out.
Cooper’s face wrinkled, his upper lip moving upward, “not caps for your head, you nitwits. Caps. Bottle caps.”
“You mean tapas?” The woman’s language chip glitched and switched her language to Spanish. “¿Para qué necesitas tapas?”
“Y/n, your chip switched the language setting,” Dimiil informed her. “You might want to change it back, he’s not gonna understand you.”
“Verga, se me había olvidado actualizar esta vaina the night before we crashed. My bad,” you managed to change the language mid sentence through your watch.
“Where are you from?” James asked, “I’ve got some friends in Mexico. Wonder if you know any of ‘em.”
“Yeah… we’re from Mexico…” your voice trailed off.
“No, ya ain’t. Bounty says otherwise. Where are you really from?” Cooper pushed.
“So, we can give you your lifetime supply of chemicals, we may not be able to give you a steady income of caps… but we can show you where we buried the bodies,” Dimiil offered, not bothering to answer his question.
The eldest ghoul’s head leaned to the side, “what bodies?”
“These,” you pointed to yourself in an as a matter of fact kind of way.
James chortled, “don’t need to. You’re right in front of us.”
You shook your head, “disguise.”
“Why are you giving one worded answers?” Nikkand’r questioned you.
“Smooth brain. Simple talk work.”
“Well, that’s just plain rude, sweetheart,” the older ghoul scolded you for talking down on them.
You giggled, “see? Simple talk work,” you repeated, sticking your tongue out. “Chems speak of, water down. My chems better. Should last lifetime.”
“Honey, you’re getting on my last nerve,” Cooper warned you, unenthused.
“Can’t hurt us. Field no budge,” Nikkand’r poked the force field, another blue pulse rippled against it at the contact. “You’re right, this does work on smooth brains.”
“Stop playing with the wildlife, we’ve got other shit to do,” Dimiil sighed, shaking his head in disapproval of his siblings’ childish behaviour. Cooper and James looked at each other, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if to say does this fucker not know who we are? before they turned their heads back to look at the eldest sibling of the three assholes. “If you don’t want to know where the bodies are so you can collect your bounties and go on your way… then this is where we part ways. I wish you the best of luck on your mission. I hope for your sake, we don’t meet again.”
The three of you turned to start walking away when suddenly, you heard a deep, loud roar, and heard heavy footsteps stomping their way. Your new pet wolf stood by Dimiil’s side, ready to pounce. A radbear was charging at you. The Ghoul smirked when the radbear knocked one of your smug asses down. The smirk was wiped clean off his face when he saw you three easily gain the upper hand, subduing the bear. It was quite underwhelming. The oldest man there had hoped the bear would take you out so he could collect his bounty; not quite caring if you were dead or alive anymore. As much as he wanted his bonus, he was getting real tired of the bullshit.
As you started to walk off again, the old Hollywood star spoke up, “wait.” You all stopped in your tracks, turning your heads to look at the two irradiated humans and their horses. “Take us to their bodies.”
“You actually believe that crock of shit story?” James whispered to him as they walked slowly and cautiously behind the group of strangers back in the direction of the battered spaceship; closely followed by their irradiated companions.
“Nope.”
“Maybe they’re from the Institute? I heard they were cookin’ up some weird shit–”
“The Institute is on the other side of the country, James. I doubt it.”
“Then why are we following them?”
“One way or another, I’m gettin’ what I came for.”
That man was stubborn, but he was stubborn within reason.. sometimes. It was a trait James got well acquainted with upon becoming one of the Ghoul’s closest friends. He decided to let the matter go and place his trust in his friend. The man probably had a plan, he usually did. And if he didn’t, well, they’d cross that bridge when they got there.
The battered and dirty exterior of the silver spacecraft popped back into view as they walked. The three smooth skins stopped in front of five mounds of dirt. The five of you silently dug up the shallow graves. Sure enough, the dead bodies they were looking for were there, as promised. You started to speak, “so, now that you’ve gotten what you wanted–”
“What are you people?” Cooper asked again, looking at the original Elena that laid on the ground, limp and cut up before his eyes found their clones’ faces. The original bodies had already begun decomposing thanks to the insects that lingered beneath the surface of the ground. “Cause you sure as hell ain’t human.”
“I think it’s best we part ways now,” Dimiil ignored his question.
“It’s only fair,” James spoke up, “that you tell us who you are. You’ve been leadin’ us on a wild goose chase for the past few months. I’d like to know why.”
You sighed, “we haven’t led you anywhere. You followed them here until they got killed–”
James drew his gun, pointing his gun at you, you heard a clicking noise to signify he had taken his gun’s safety off. “By you?”
Immediately, the force field went back up. “By someone else.”
“Who?” He pressed.
Nikkand’r didn’t bother whispering, his voice cutting through the already tense air. “I know you’ve got a code and all, sis. But we’re not in Nembaria anymore. They won’t know–”
“They will.” You mumbled, crossing your arms.
The youngest lost his patience, “our home is over 100 lightyears away, in another galaxy, for fuck’s sake! And we’re under attack! I doubt they’ll give a shit!”
James’ eyes widened as he turned to look at Cooper. The older ghoul only moved his irises to look back at his friend, not wanting to wear his surprise on his face. Aliens? Real aliens? That couldn’t be true. Aliens were simply a creation of science fiction. Nothing real– but then again, it made total sense. The technology you had seemed far too advanced to be human. But Cooper had previously excused it, letting his mind draw conclusions that seemed more logical to him. The flyer for the bounty stated that Elena was a scientist so he didn’t think anything of it before. He hadn’t pushed the matter more than he felt he should’ve. That also explained the inexplicable saucer that lay on the ground.
For some reason, the two ghouls couldn’t move. It hurt them every time they tried to move one of their limbs. It was like they were frozen in time, except everything and everyone around them was still able to move.
“They’ll understand our situation, Y/n,” Dimiil agreed with his brother, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You shook your head, “you guys are– wow… I won’t take part in this. You two can fuck off. I’ll find my own way home.” You started to step away, you heard Nikki’s voice ring in your head.
The three of them went silent, neither Cooper nor James could hear them. Their mouths didn’t move, but their body language indicated the conversation hadn’t ended. At one point, the silent conversation was starting to boil. Hands were being waved around, fingers were pointed. It had gotten so heated, that one of the men struck you in the face, knocking you over. The other man ran over to check on you before turning over to the one who’d hit you; pushing him down, about to hit him back on your behalf. You grabbed his arm and stopped him. The two of them continued communicating silently, you were holding your cheek in your hand as you cried. Cooper could hear you sniffling from the other side of the force field, he saw the thick blue liquid escape your eyes as you continuously wiped your coloured tears away from your face.
Another minute or so passed as the conversation continued without a single word being uttered by any of them.
Suddenly, you walked over, the force field had been lowered. “Don’t try to move, it’ll hurt more if you do.” You told them, as you and Dimiil approached, kneeling down in front of them.
Cooper closed his eyes, accepting his fate. If he was going to die, he’d do it with dignity. James seemed to have a different idea, he kicked the Dimiil in the shin. The alien took a deep breath. Their quickened heart rates were manipulated into decelerating until they fell asleep. Nikk glared at the two ghouls as you and Dimiil made them lose consciousness. You both then carried them into the previously vacant silver structure while the youngest stayed where he was with his arms crossed. Its lights turned on when you signalled for the door to open. Nikk refused to go in with you, opting to stay outside until he could cool down without being forced to by his older brother.
Dimiil set James down on one of the beds. You did the same with Cooper. “Are you okay?” He asked once you’d finished settling the irradiated humans down. He studied your face.
You sighed, “yeah, I’m good,” and turned to walk away. “I just need a little time to myself,” you mumbled, moving to sit in the cockpit away from everyone else. Your brothers left you alone, electing to stay in the bedroom and go to sleep to give you your space. You sat in one of the chairs in the cockpit, bringing your knees to your chest. You cried quietly to yourself as you stared out the window into the dark nothingness of the Yellowstone wilderness.
#alien reader#alien reader x ghoul cooper howard#50s 60s alien aesthetic#alien x ghoul#cooper howard x reader#aliens and ufos#fallout#cooper x reader#fallout tv show#the ghoul
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I Could Drown Myself In Someone Like You
Part Three
Part I // Part II
You can find my other Biker!Bucky fic here:
Title Comes from this Song:
Request: Hey girl I literally just found your blog and when I tell you I BINGED your Ride series. Please I beg could we have some more Biker Bucky? Maybe barmaid reader? I really don't mind as long as we get some BikerBuck!
Warnings: This chapter references domestic abuse, and a paragraph of torture/violence towards Bucky. If that isn't for you, please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx
Introduction of the Asshole Ex : Zemo
You sat outside in your truck, drumming your fingers on the dash to a song playing on the radio.
This had become your little routine the last few weeks, sitting outside in your truck while Bucky had his therapy session with Dr. Raynor. She was a therapist who specialised in veterans and military trauma that you had found online, and you couldn’t believe when Bucky had agreed to go.
He had shuffled awkwardly into your cottage the morning of his first session, cheeks slightly tinged pink when he’d asked if you would bring him to his first session and that was how it started and now you were sitting outside what was his sixth or seventh session.
After every session you would take the long way home through the winding Californian Redwoods, with the windows down and music playing. Bucky said it helped to ground him after every session and sometimes you would stop at a little food truck at the beginning of a hiking trail and treat him to a coffee.
Bucky was always quiet on the journey home and you never pushed him to talk until he was ready to, but you were beginning to see the change completely in his demeanour, he was calmer, softer and a lot more aware of his actions. He had taken Sam out for lunch after his third or fourth session and apologised profusely to him and it warmed your heart to watch their relationship blossoming again. You were even surprised when he opened up about what had happened to him in the Middle East, how he had nearly lost his arm through chemical experimentation and torture and how he really believed he was going to die in that bunker until Steve’s squad successfully tracked him down and rescued him.
You too were having a lot of honest conversations, opening up to Bucky about the full extent of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your ex boyfriend. You too had thought you were going to die at the hands of that man and Bucky had pulled you to him in a bone crushing hug.
Because the thought of anyone ever hurting you like that was enough to send him over the edge.
So you were taking your relationship slow, really getting to know each other and helping each other through the healing, you both clearly needed to do.
The first time Bucky told you he loved you caught you so off guard. He had begrudgingly agreed to go on a hike with you, claiming it was very much not his style, but to his utter surprise he ended up enjoying it more than expected.
You talked him through identifying certain trees by their leaves, you picked wildflowers and insisted he smell every one and you took a million pictures of him because you thought he looked cute and fuck if you didn’t make his heart flutter in his chest.
“It’s right up here,” you pulled him from his thoughts, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind you. Finally gasping when you came to the viewing point at the top of the mountain, pulling Bucky closer to the ledge and releasing his hand to spin in the morning sun, arms outstretched and eyes closed as you spun.
When your eyes finally landed on Bucky, his face was the most serene thing you had ever seen, the sun hitting his eyes making them almost glow.
“What?” you grinned at the way he was looking at you.
“I’m so in love with you,” he mused and you leapt forward to capture his lips with yours, so happy you felt like you could burst.
“I love you too,” you told him honestly and he scooped you up spinning you around as he kissed you with all he had in him
________________________________________________________
Steve was serving drinks but attempting to keep an eye on the table who had wandered in and seated themselves about an hour ago. Two muscles he could tell were armed and the other man, clearly their boss, sat back, slicked haired and well groomed. Zemo, your ex. He looked too well put together to be hanging around with these two goons and something did not sit right with Steve and from the side glances Sam was throwing his way, he didn’t feel right about it either.
“Can I get you fellas another drink?” he asked and he hated the way the sophisticated one feigned passiveness “Yes please, I will take another espresso, thank you.”
If Steve hadn’t been trained to read people he could have easily fallen for the harmless act, but he was under no illusion, this man was a shark in human clothing.
When Steve returned with his espresso, he stopped him, “Say you wouldn’t happen to know if my friend has stopped by this town, I’m trying to track her down,” he smiled innocently before turning his phone around to show Steve a picture.
Steve tried to control his breathing as your eyes looked right back at him through the screen, he used all his military training to keep his expression lighthearted and neutral “No, can’t say that I have ever seen her,” he shrugged.
“It’s such a small town, she would have been hard to miss,” the stranger cocked his eyebrow at Steve.
“Absolutely,” Steve agreed “Perhaps you will have more luck in the next town over.”
“Perhaps,” he smiled and Steve smiled back before turning on his heel back to the bar.
Steve must have sent Bucky damn near twenty messages and called him just as much but his phone was out of range. In a last ditch attempt he tried calling you, but had the same effect.
Finally, the trio left the bar, fixing Steve up and leaving a hefty tip that he was tempted to throw in the bin.
After what seemed like hours Bucky finally called him back, “Is everything okay?” he panicked and Steve shook his head “Not really, no. Where is y/n?”
“I just dropped her home. Steve what is it you’re freaking me out.”
“Just get here quickly,” Steve ordered before he instructed Sam to close the bar.
When Bucky arrived to the bar closed he was in a panic, which only intensified when Steve relayed what had happened.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Bucky spat “He’s found her,” he was panicking, all his worst fears were coming true.
“We have to get to her, warn her, keep her safe,” Bucky was spiralling but now was not the time to fail you.
The bell over the door rattled and Steve said “Sorry the bar is closed,”
“Not to us it isn’t,” the shark in human clothing spat and Bucky bristled, but he continued “The whole bar is surrounded so let’s not try anything stupid here.”
Within seconds the bar was infiltrated and Sam and Steve were manhandled, bloodied and beaten to the floor, Bucky fought off as many as possible but there was simply too many and eventually he was wrestled down to the ground, pulled out into the middle floor and forced to his knees with a gun to his head.
“My patience is growing thin so I will ask once. Where is she?”
“Fuck you,” Bucky spat and was rewarded with a pistol whip to the face.
Zemo grasped a handful of Bucky’s hair forcing him to look up into his menacing brown eyes, Bucky remembered how you had shivered when describing him “You don’t understand Buck, he’s secret service trained in his home country. He’s done unspeakable things and he doesn’t care who he kills to get what he wants.”
Looking up into those eyes he could understand why you were so afraid of this man, he was controlled and cunning, the worst kind of bully.
“Maybe we should call her,” Zemo smiled sweetly while one of his heavies wrestled Bucky’s phone from his back pocket.
“No,” Bucky struggled as Zemo put the phone to his face watching in horror as the phone unlocked, his screensaver a picture of you two on one of your first proper dates, your face one of pure joy as he kissed your cheek.
“Bingo,” Zemo sighed and rummaged through his contacts until he found you, the unmistakable sound of the video call tone that used to make Bucky’s heart flutter with excitement now it was dread, begging the gods that you wouldn’t answer.
“Bucky, you couldn’t be missing me already,” your voice came through like a song and then your face fell at Bucky’s bloodied face, “What happened?” you shrieked and then the camera was turned around to a face that haunted your nightmares for months.
You wanted to cry, you wanted to beg him to tell you how he found you but all that left your lips was a plea “Please. Please don’t hurt him.”
“I won’t. If you are here in the next half hour I won’t hurt your little boyfriend, but-”
“-Don’t come here y/n,” Bucky shouted over Zemo “Run, run far away. Don’t look back.” Bucky would rather have been killed than see you back in that hell.
“Shut the fuck up,” one of Zemo’s heavies shouted and punched Bucky full force into the side of his head and kicking him a few times in the ribs when he slumped forward.
“Stop,” you pleaded “I will be there.”
The drive back to the bar was a haze of tears and panic, and you were fairly sure you broke every speed zone on the route but it didn’t matter you had to get to Bucky.
As you finally clambered through the door to the bar, you wanted to be sick when you saw the state of Bucky’s face, bloodied and swollen, cloth shoved in his mouth to keep him quiet, and Steve and Sam were tied to a radiator, at the end of the bar.
“Let him go,” you pleaded, taking shaky steps towards Zemo, “Please he has done nothing wrong.”
“Look boys, the little rat has scurried out of its hiding place,” he mocked and Bucky struggled against the arms holding him tight, “As she always does.”
“Let him go,” you repeated, voice shaky, your legs threatening to give way.
“But he has been a bad boy,” Zemo tutted “He took something that belonged to me, when he really shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t belong to you!” you quipped which earned you a harsh slap across the face and Bucky screamed into his gag. Your hands flying up instinctively in surrender.
Zemo pulled out his knife and your eyes widened in fear, trying to place yourself between him and Bucky, “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him,” you cried and Zemo smirked “Hurt, yes but I never said he wouldn’t be punished for being such a bad boy.”
You cried in shock when you were pushed into the arms of one of Zemo’s men and to your horror Zemo began hacking off pieces of Bucky’s long hair with the blade and you cried out in horror as soft locks began to litter the floor. Those locks that you would lovingly run your fingers through, that you would grasp onto when you made love, and that Bucky would absentmindedly let you braid or play with when you were anxious, lay in uneven chunks on the ground and this was precisely when your legs gave way.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” you were crying and Bucky’s huge blue eyes were on yours as Zemo laughed at the scene, examining his handy work. Buck’s hair was a mess of uneven chunks and blood where the knife had nicked him and this image would be burned into your brain for the rest of your life.
It was like a bomb had exploded beside you, you could hear nothing but the thumping of your own heart, as figures ran around before your eyes, Zemo was talking but you couldn't make out what he was saying. Bucky was pushed down to the floor and someone grasped you, hauling you up from the floor and you were bundled into the back of a car before you could even process what was happening. Bile rising in your throat until you wound the window down and puked out the side of the moving car.
What had you done? How had you allowed yourself to become so complacent? How had you ever allowed yourself to think you could have found happiness with Bucky. You had destroyed his life and for what, because you had fallen in love with him? You were undeserving of his love from day one and you should have left him in peace. Instead you had left him in pieces and you would never have the opportunity to make it up to him. Or tell you just how much he had meant to you. The only man you had ever truly loved, lay broken on the floor among the chunks of hair that you had loved so much.
And you were trapped with the man who had destroyed your life time and time again.
Tagging:
@spookyparadisesheep @jbbarnesgirl @salvatoreitmeanssaviour@princesscornbread @loki-laufeyson-1054 @firstcashheroathlete @missvelvetsstuff nana1000night sapphire-rogers @sarahrogersevans @steverogerssimpp @spudinthemud @mrsragnarlodbrok @buckgasms @miss-patriciah-maximoff @hellomissmabel @knittingknerdy @shamvictoria11 @buckysberrie @assembletheimagines @dearthofequanimity @wellthatsrandomkek @mitra-k-w @nikkitia7 @fantasticimpaladoctor @feelmyroarrrr @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @andhiseyesweregreen @frickin-bats @buckyywiththegoodhair @iiharu-kunii @bellenuit45-blog @james-bionic-barnes @avengerofyourheart @jaegers-and-kaijus princess76179 brasspistol thelittleredrobinhood tiedyedghoulette mishkatelwarriorgoddess @casa-boiardi
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cw: sexual discussions, gender dysphoria (trans Eddie Munson pov), virgin Eddie, mentions of period typical transphobia and homophobia
It comes as a bit of a surprise, when Steve comes out to Eddie as gay. Even more of a surprise when Steve follows it up with and I’m attracted to you. Eddie has to remind him, with clenched teeth, bracing for the impact of rejection, that he doesn’t have the parts Steve wants.
“You think I care what’s in your pants, man? You’re hot, either way. I’m just saying, like, I’d fuck you,” Steve says, blowing smoke into the air in front of him. He’s sitting against the side of Eddie’s bed, hogging the joint Eddie rolled for them both. “I’m also, like, really fucking high. So forget I said all that.”
Eddie reaches over the edge of his bed and snatches the joint back before Steve can bring it to his mouth again.
He takes a hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs while he ruminates on, well, all of that.
“You sure you’re gay?” Eddie asks, settling on that question first. He winces as he says it, his own internal hangups taking hold of him. He knows he’s a man, there’s no doubt about that. He’s been validated to hell and back by Wayne, a bunch of older queers Wayne is friends with, and the one doctor in the state of Indiana that has shown him any kind of compassion.
He just knows how other people are. How, despite him knowing who he is, a lot of people just see him for his cunt and his tits. Well, not like he has much of his tits left, not after the demobats performed a botched mastectomy on him and left him with one and a half breasts. The doctors that put him back together wouldn’t remove the rest. He knows that Steve could just be getting some wires crossed — yes, he could be attracted to Eddie, but Eddie has to ask if it’s really because he’s into men and sees Eddie as a man, or if… If it’s the alternative.
“Pretty sure, man,” Steve answers. He tilts his head back over the edge of the bed and looks at Eddie, where he’s lying against his pillows. “Like, I don’t think about,” he waves vaguely at Eddie’s body, and Eddie knows he’s being careful, like he can’t just talk about him without overthinking each word. “I think about, like, how you pinned me to a wall with a bottle to my throat and I think about how you hotwired that RV. I was definitely into you during both of those things, and I had no idea about, you know.”
And that’s true. Eddie’s been hiding it pretty good since he moved to town. Buzzed his head in his bathroom the day his dad got arrested. Had a pretty good feeling his pops wasn’t coming back from this one before he even left. Usually he took Eddie along with him, but that final time he left him with a pile of change and a phone number and told him to call Wayne if he wasn’t back by the next afternoon.
Wayne took one look at him when he showed up, asked him about the buzzcut, asked him what name he was going by these days, and then took him to meet some friends. Didn’t even have time to meet any other kids before he started getting tips from an older trans man that Wayne met years back. Since then, Eddie kept his head down, his chest bound, and never uttered a sound until he got on testosterone and his voice started to deepen and crack along with all the other boys.
“Okay, well now you do know, so,” Eddie points out. He shrugs, takes another hit and then passes the joint back down to Steve. “You’d really fuck me? Pussy and all?”
“I mean, I’ve got experience with it,” Steve says. “I just don’t like women, is all. You’re not a woman.”
Eddie doesn’t really get it. How Steve can go from Hawkins’ biggest lady killer to lounging on Eddie the freak Munson’s dingy bedroom floor saying he doesn’t like ladies at all. Steve Harrington, who, and it’s no secret, called Jonathan Byers a queer a few years ago and laughed when his slimy friends called other boys fags. Yet here he is, saying that Eddie’s a man. So much of a man that Steve says he’s gay and wants to fuck him in the same breath.
It doesn’t make any fucking sense.
“What about you?” Steve asks. “Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Fuck me,” Steve clarifies. “Want to get fucked by me. I mean, hey if you’ve got a dick laying around, I’d let you put it in me, too. I don’t think I’m picky.”
Eddie sighs, dropping his head down to his pillow. This is where it gets tricky. Yeah, he’d have sex with Steve Harrington. Who wouldn’t? But as much experience as Steve has with pussy, Eddie’s a pussy with no experience. Other than a few drunken kisses in dark clubs eighty miles from home, he’s completely terrified of putting himself out there, and honestly for good reason too.
Being gay in this town is hard enough, but if anyone finds out he’s trans, he’s fucking done for. It was scary enough realizing Steve knows, and he didn’t even have a choice in Steve finding out. Next time he tries to die, he’s gonna make sure he gets to a hospital instead of getting his clothes cut off on Steve’s parents’ bathroom floor.
But yeah, Steve knows, and there’s no more risk of him finding out, and that’s pretty much the main reason Eddie hasn’t had sex with anyone, so.
“Yeah, I guess,” he answers.
“Cool,” Steve whispers.
And that’s it. That’s all the conversation is.
Steve crawls into Eddie’s bed and curls up beside him like they always do when he sleeps over, and he takes the joint from Eddie to take one last hit. He reaches over Eddie to put it in the ashtray and then lays back down.
“So, um,” Eddie says. Because he’s confused. He thought Steve was coming onto him. He thought this was a precursor for Steve coming in him.
“What’s up?” Steve asks lazily, voice catching on a yawn.
“Well, I’m glad we established all that, but, like… Are we not going to…?”
“What? Oh, no. I’m way too high,” Steve whispers, turning his face into Eddie’s shoulder. “Another time?”
Eddie laughs because he has no idea how his life became this.
“Sure,” Eddie agrees. “Another time.”
Steve sits up, presses a loud, smacking kiss to Eddie’s temple, and then drops his head back down. He turns his face in toward Eddie’s neck, arm finding its place around Eddie’s waist. Eddie can’t see his face, but he thinks Steve’s pleased smile might just match his own.
Read More on AO3
#i wonder what happens next.... you can find out if you go read on ao3#steddie#steve x eddie#steve and eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#trans eddie munson#steddie fic#my fics#my writing#gay steve harrington
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the amount of stuff from my relationship that i projected to my fics is actually insane
#i literally think that if i hadn't started writing#i wouldn't have realized so many things#about myself#and what i actually wanted#forever grateful to aimee for supporting me in the start#the fact that i unhide the fic where i project exactly what i hoped would happen if i broke up with my bf the day we are seeing each other#to figure out the next step as exes#is insane#asjdbasjhdasd#but damn my fics have always been so personal and that one in particular is from a version of me that was afraid that letting him go#would mean that i would never find love again#and needed to read a reality where letting go#of the partener who you grew up with and has given you so much love#isn't a bad thing for either of you#when other situations pass#i might reveal what other stuff inspired my fics or microfics#ajshbdahjsd
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i actually kinda miss rpf fandoms haha like... i don't miss f1 itself, but i miss rpf fandoms where everyone knows what they're doing and what's up, like how nobody really believes that their otp is actually together (and even if they actually are (?? haha), it has no bearing on what you write/create). and just. i miss that there are no canon ships, so everyone just ships whatever they like (or whore their fave out like i do) and well, i didn't really catch any ship wars during the time i was in the f1 fandom (twice) but maybe i just managed to stay away from all of that. and (at least in my experience) there wasn't any weird comments on fic of how the plot should've been like that, or you shouldn't have done this with this character; i also really liked how there wasn't just smut fic (although there was plenty of that too heheh), but also wonderful, wildly creative AUs of any sort, like it just became so easy to take these characters (because by the time you write about rl people in fic, they DO become characters) and put them in any situation/scenario that you liked--like it just became so easy to know them on a fic/writing level because people before you did the research and put it in their fic, and then you'd read their fic and you'd learn that this guy has blah number of brothers and sisters and these are their names and these are their parents' names--
anyway. i miss the chillness of rpf fandoms. or at least, the ones i've been in anyway.
#i haven't missed f1 since the v8s went away lol#anyway. just some thoughts. non-rpf fandoms can be very strange#as an aside it's often nice to write rpf bc the characters are real/feel real because... they are real /circular sentence#sometimes fictional characters really do feel fictional and i think that's because they're not contradictory#anthony however is wonderfully contradictory and that's why he feels real to me#but when it really comes down to it he doesn't quite feel real either. but he's definitely a very good blorbo :3#as another aside... i just went and read a simi fic for the first time in like a year and :3 i still like simi very much#ramble.txt#eta: rpf fandoms are also missing the whole 'i want to see my otp do a thing'?#like. e.g. you find out that your otp will be sitting next to each other in the press conf.#but if you don't get any material out of it no one whines#like. i miss that#like. it's just enough that you ship them already based on what's already happened. you don't really need more...#idk. THOUGHTS.
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There are more trigun fanfics than there were back in April
This is creating a problem for me
#speculation nation#I WAS RAVENOUSLY READING FIC end of march beginning of april#like. Ravenously. regularly sacrificing sleep for it.#started running out of longer things to read (one shots r fine but i Rly like longfic. if u couldn't tell.)#so i started writing my own.#i dont tend to read much when im actively working on writing. and if i do it's Usually one shots#brief things to fill the time when i dont feel up to writing. but long things r iffy bc i get too absorbed and then it muddles my writing#since my gf was visiting i didnt rly have time for writing so i was reading in spare moments#she left today tho which means writing time is back on the table#but there are so many good new fanfics that have popped up since april...........#gonna finish the one im currently reading. and we'll see if there r any i Reaaaally wanna read#i swear tho ive read like 200k words in the past 3 days alone. and this is just me reading in spare moments.#(read: sacrificing sleep to read)#it's healthier for me to focus on my own writing anyways lmao. bc it forces me to take care of myself to obtain writing brain#and i dont feel that voracious hunger to just Keep Reading to find out what happens next w/ my own stuff#bc i already know what happens next lol. it's just easier on me in general.#but Oh i sure do like reading some good fics when theyre available...#anyways. yea im gonna b able to start writing ITNL 15 soon. hoping for the best in the coming days xoxoxo
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also michael being a little spoon is something that i can't see happening until way way way later in postcanon and entirely by accident at first. because when he comes back he's going to want to hold adam!!! because he lost him he felt him die and that like. destroyed him. so yknow obviously most nights if not all of them he's gonna be wrapped around him like a starfish. but michael was already so defeated in 15x19 and getting killed by god would make that worse and probably shatter his self-worth entirely so i do think there would be some nights where he's just. burrowed away in adam's ribcage being sad about everything. but he pulls his little projection out while adam's sleeping to watch him which is probably when he has his whole "i don't deserve him or his kindness or any of this" mental episode but he can't bring himself to dispel his projection because he remembers when adam's body was cold and alone and inhabited by no one but him and to see adam living and breathing in it is comforting in a way he thinks he should probably be above since he used to be all important but what does it matter anymore. his father is dead his reputation was in tatters the moment he was dragged into the cage and there is nowhere he wants to be except by adam’s side and adam is allowing him to do so. but he’s still guilty about all of it so he keeps his projection out but turns on his other side on the bed away from adam. so he can still hear him and feel him since he’s wrapped up in his body but he doesn’t allow himself the privilege of looking at him. because he’s just. like that. but he and adam are so close in there that even though adam’s asleep there is some part of him that is just so attuned to michael that he on some level realizes michael’s upset is like well. can’t have that. and because they’re so attuned to each other in general adam can sense the fact that michael is using his grace to make a projection of himself so he just. reaches out for it. and ends up wrapping himself around michael like michael’s always doing to him. and because he’s asleep and has no sense of awkwardness or sense of hesitancy to him he just goes the whole nine yards with it. i mean he’s got his forehead pressed to the back of michael’s head he’s got an arm around him he’s got their legs tangled together. and michael is just laying there like. Um. because he’s still in the middle of his “i don’t deserve this” episode but also. he’s not exactly looking to move away any time soon
#sometimes i provide good explanations for why michael would behave in a certain situation a certain way with actual quoted evidence from the#show. and sometimes i'm just tired and i go *gestures vaguely* because he's just like that. have you seen him on screen for more than#five seconds. he's just Like That#also i should really start putting breaks in between my long slabs of text so it's not hell on people to read but like.#i can never figure out where to put the breaks. and also that's what i write fic for anyway. for the breaks.#anyway adam wakes up the next morning to find them in that position and is ALSO like. Um. and then they don't mention it#but it just keeps happening. so they end up switching around a lot as the end result#kate rambles
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caught in that horrible place of wanting to write and post stuff, but being so disheartened and upset because what's the point if no one comments? i take the time to put the stories and ideas in my head into words so that i can share them and talk about them with other people! i'm oldschool about this and make no apologies for being so. fandom was built on comments and interacting with each other - on communicating and creating a sense of community. i cannot keep creating in such utter isolation. i'm not a machine. i'm lonely. i want to connect with people over things with both love and enjoy!
to be clear, this isn't a 'you must always comment if you read something' because that's utterly deranged and unrealistic. i'm just begging anyone who sees this to, if they can (if! because i struggle to comment too!), take a few moments to let an author know 'hey i was here and this made me feel things!'. even a little something back is so, so much better than putting some of my hard work out there and hearing nothing in return. i do not feel inspired to keep writing right now. it makes me so sad having all these things i want to talk about and write and share, but no one seems to be interested in engaging, so the thing that brings me joy remains a quiet, unspoken thing withering inside me
fandom has changed a lot over the last few years, and i wish i could say it was for the better, but it's not. this whole click and move on social media attitude is really soul-destroying. likes/kudos/reactions aren't the same as words (or emoji or gifs or whatever your preferred method of yelling in the comments is). a single click serves a purpose but can never replace the value of human interaction
the thing is, i don't post fic and immediately rush on to the next thing, never to look back. i like looking back! i like pausing in my day to reminisce on that fic i wrote, and i smile the whole way through my entire being when someone leaves a nice comment and i get a chance to say 'thank you, i love this story too' and think about the fic again. i'm cultivating a little garden of stories with all the love and care i have to give each of them, and i want them to grow, not be trodden underfoot as people rush to consume the next thing
#document type: medical report#look just please... human interaction... i'm desperate#i want to talk to people!#i met my best friend and now sibling almost 10 years ago because she was a repeat commenter on a good many of my fics#i know i've barely started writing again but i just cannot keep going if everyone is so damn afraid to comment#i also invite you to consider what talking about fics in servers and (if anyone still uses it) on twitter means#because for a start does the author ever see those conversations?#and secondly are they in any way preserved or do they end up buried by the next topic of conversation/feed refresh?#look look we gotta fuckin anchor this shit down#stop lobbing stones into the ocean and instead we can build little cairns that aren't lost to the tides#i joined a server a few years ago and people went NUTS when they found out my ao3 because they loved my fic#and i had LITERALLY NO IDEA because i would only get one or maybe two comments on a fic#so to discover that whole conversations were happening about my work... it was surreal and just... no one thought to actually talk to *me*?#to the person who wrote the stuff??#how are we supposed to know anybody is out there and wants to see more of our writing?#also as someone with adhd and self-confidence issues the fact ao3 comments STAY THERE and i even get an email!! is perfection#the comment doesn't disappear and i know where i can find it#and when i go to look at a fic (yes i read my own fic now and then) i see the comment count (even 1) and feel happy that someone enjoyed it#that i'm not alone#also just in case a certain friend who i know liked the last fic reads this and the tags: i don't want you to be burdened by any sense of#obligation to comment on any of my stuff#that is the absolute last thing i want - i just wish commenting was still more of a norm#also please absolutely no one ever read my stuff with the sole intention of commenting#read for the story. keysmash if you have the spoons to and want let me know you liked the words i left lying around for people to discover#ugh okay i'll stop now but wow not to be old but i hate right-this-moment-only social media click-and-move-on disposable bullshit#make your mark darlings#leave a trace#we're only here once#(itf fic will probably be updated at some point - i save comments as encouragement so only reply on wips when i post the next chapter)
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Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️🔥🍆 (5k words)
Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel.
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day.
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple. You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something.
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy.
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand.
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you.
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic.
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable.
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. ���I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you.
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?”
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.”
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake.
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.”
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.”
The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear, “S’okay, sweet girl.”
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles.
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft.
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you.
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
“Is that it?”
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says. “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.”
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste.
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to.
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs.
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view.
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try.
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you.
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips.
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment.
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt.
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. ��What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt.
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold.
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure. You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure.
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on.
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg.
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend.
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man.
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further.
“Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈⬛😻
#strang3lov3#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#the last of us hbo#joel miller fic#joel tlou#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x virgin reader
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Do you have any advice and how to write a long fic?
I'll encourage long fic writers to add on in the notes, but as someone who tends to prefer short and medium-length fic, I'll tell you how I go about it.
Get a premise that you just absolutely love. You're going to be writing this thing for months, if not longer, so you want it to be something you're willing to spend a lot of time thinking about.
Embrace subplots. You'll have your main plotline that you want to see through from beginning to end, but you can also weave in some subplots here or there. The way I do this so that I don't get lost down a rabbit hole is that I always make sure that every chapter has at least 1 thing that moves the main plot forward and then if I want to spend 1-2K with some side characters doing something fun I can do that as well. Subplots can extend for the length of the full narrative, but they can also just last a chapter or three. If you're used to writing short fic, these might give you that familiar feeling of "completion"
A chapter is only as long as it needs to be. Don't get hung up on having a consistent chapter length. Don't get hung up on hitting some arbitrary number every time. Instead, figure out what the next part of your story needs to include and write however many words it takes to get that chunk across. Varying your chapter lengths is a normal thing to do and not something to stress about.
The next thing that I find important personally may or may not be relevant to you, but I find that I can't plot anything in much detail. If I get too into the nitty gritty with my plotting, it just feels like I've already written it. I need to keep it at the level of "And then A and B meet C and hijinks ensue." I can figure out the particular hijinks later. It's the characters meeting up that's the next important thing for me to figure out. Getting too far ahead of myself is a death knell for me in writing long fics, but there are other writers who swear by it. Test out different ways of approaching it and see what works for you.
As someone who tends to write more briefly, another feature that's common to longer fics is more extensive descriptions. People spend time painting visual pictures of the setting or the characters or the actions that are happening. Write the more bare-bones style that focuses more on dialogue (if you're like me) and then go back and read through what you've just written and see if there are opportunities to add in more detail. This can lead to some really interesting characterization choices and also help you out with worldbuilding.
When it comes to worldbuilding, you don't have to get it all on the page. You just need to share what's relevant for the reader in that moment and what is useful to lay out now so that it's already there in a future chapter. You can have an encyclopedic knowledge of how your world works in your head, but it's not actually necessary. No one is going to be quizzing you later - and if they do, you can always figure it out at that point.
Most important for me when I'm trying to get myself to the end of a longer fic, have a friend or a group of friends who are also into what you're writing - or at least willing to hear you get excited about it. Being able to get excited about your work is so important. It's like a bottle of water being handed to you on mile 10 of a marathon.
#asks and answers#long fic writers go!#and short fic writers who have successfully written long#how did you go about it?#long post
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