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rustedhearts · 4 months

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severed lamb: part v: sunday mourning (pastor!steve x fem!reader)

summary: your encounter with pastor steve leaves you feeling ill. he pays you a visit to make you feel better, and in doing so damns you a little further down to hell.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♰ severed lamb ♰ ♰ the library ♰

tags: religious imagery/trauma; age gap (steve is 35, reader is 19); manipulation; coercion; abuse of power; more god guilt; smut; depictions of vomiting; perversion of religion; this is literally so gross and i am ashamed.

a/n: merry christmas, ya filthy animals :)

♰ wydgate, georgia, august 1981 ♰

The night after rainfall was always scorching hot.

You clicked the ceiling fan on high and put the box fan in your window to cool down the carpeted room, but nothing could soothe the itching fire in your veins. You frantically kicked at your sheets and twisted around, pounding your clenched fists on the mattress at midnight.

When you closed your eyes, all you saw was Pastor Steve in the darkness. Touching you, kissing you, making noises, and pulling pleasure. The way his fingers prodded inside you and had your stomach quivering. Parts of you thrummed with desire for more of his attention. Other parts shuddered in disgust. The parts where you clung to God, you supposed.

And God always prevailed.

Sprung from your bed, you scrambled for your bedroom door in the inky darkness. Feet padding over bare, sticky flooring in the emptiness of night on your way to the bathroom. Your knees thumped to the floor before the toilet, and into the bowl you spewed a day’s worth of sustenance.

Burning your throat raw, leaving a sticky film over your lips and teeth, splattering into the porcelain bowl—you didn't stop until you were heaving nothing but drool and air. You collapsed back against the tub, knees pressed to your chest. How was it that you were still aching between your thighs? Pastor Steve's Godless infiltration into your thoughts seemed to have no bounds.

You pushed to shaky knees and flushed the mess down. The wobble back to your bedroom came with bumps and bruises against the walls, and you barely remembered slipping back under the sheets and laying down your head.

♰ ♰

In the morning, the heaviness of your head and stiffness of your neck were immediate cause for alarm. Was it possible to genuinely make yourself sick with worry? Blinking your eyes open came with a dull, pulsing pain that made you wince.

“Delilah? Delilah Anne, what are you still doin’ in bed?”

Your mother came rushing into the room, shrilling as she went. The curtains were drawn and the sun came blaring in, causing you to slither under the covers and whine.

“Feel sick, Mama.”

“It’s Sunday, Delilah, we’ve got church. Get your sorry ass outta this bed.”

Her hand yanked at the end of your covers, and you fought against her pull with clawing hands. She huffed and snatched at the top this time, successfully uncovering your head.

Though a scowl played on her mouth, she paused at the sight of you in disarray. Your clammy skin had lost its color, eyes swollen and bloodshot. Your mother's hands found her hips, clad in a bright yellow dress for church.

"Well, good Lord, child."

You swallowed down a sore and aching throat. "I threw up, Mama."

"I can see that," she replied plainly, lips pursed in dismay. An irritated sigh shot from her mouth. "Fine, you'll stay here. But you better pray long and hard that you're feelin' better for mass later on."

Flicking her hair out of her face, your mother spun around and clicked out of the room on uneven heels. You brought the covers back around your shoulders, curling up under your chin. Tinkling and rustling emerged from beyond the bedroom door, and soon the front screen yawned with your mother's exit.

In her absence, the house sagged with relief. The open window cast a beam of soft morning light across your feet. Birds twittered their hellos, cicadas shook out their wings and readied them for a day of screaming, and the wind was butter soft. You let your eyes sink shut and listened to it brush over the grass outside your window. Rustle the cherry tree leaves. Shutter the arms of the windmill in the backyard.

The thought of missing church for the first Sunday in ages left you waning with unease—but the relief of not having to see Pastor Steve soothed the sting. You could not sit in a pew and watch him spew Godly utterings knowing what he had done to you. Knowing how he made you feel. A pleasure so boundless, so infinitely blood-rushing that it made you ill.

It was wrong. It was a sin.

But here, right now, it was quiet. Finally, you didn't have to think...

♰ ♰

You woke sometime near the afternoon, the sun in a full blazing mood. The room was blinding with an almost white hue, stifling with an increase of heat. You stirred under the covers with a disapproving squeak, and it was as you shifted that you heard a noise in the living room.

"It's so kind a' you to do this, Pastor Steve. Lilah's gonna be so relieved she didn't have t' miss out."

Slumber swept from your body in like cool breeze, leaving you in a fully aware consciousness that snapped painfully. The floorboards creaked with their padding feet, approaching the knob of your door. You wished you knew how to disappear on command.

"Lilah? Lilah, you got a visitor," your mother called through the wood of the door, her voice much sweeter than you ever knew it to be.

The door chittered on old hinges, swinging open to reveal two bodies you had enough of. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, suddenly regretful for not feigning sleep. In your periphery, a flash of black accompanied a blob of yellow. Pastor Steve abandoned his cloak back at the chapel, stripped down to the tight button up and clean slacks of casual worship. The white plastic collar of his uniform fit snugly against his throat.

"Hello, Delilah," Pastor Steve cooed.

You curled your fingers into fists beneath the blankets. Turned your head an inch, caught sight of his crisp sleeve. "Hello."

"Forgive her, she's feelin' real poorly. D' you want some sweet tea, Pastor Steve?"

Pastor Steve flashed a smile at your mother. "No, thank you, Lorraine, that's real kind. I think Delilah and I should have some privacy for her mass."

"Of course." Your mother fluffed the ends of her hair and fixed her posture. She hated being snubbed of a man's attention, let alone Pastor Steve's. She looked at him like a hound looks at a pork chop.

She made slow work of exiting the room, and you turned to follow her movements through the door. Your lips parted to speak, to beg her to return and exclaim your sudden wellness—but your tongue would not move. She pulled the door shut with a resounding click.

Now alone, Pastor Steve turned to face you in the bed, cradling a black bag to his chest. He inhaled deeply, chest ballooning with breath, and let his eyes rummage the sight of you. You squirmed against the sheets, fingers pulling at threads under the blankets.

"Couldn't have you missin' your chance to worship," he declared, and the bag against his chest clinked with vials and other accessories.

You shifted again. He stepped closer, a smile hemming his mouth gracefully. You glanced at his fingers gripping around the bag—those long, slender digits browned by the sun. You squeezed your legs together at the memory of what those appendages could do. The sort of pleasure they could bring.

The bag added weight to the end of your bed near your feet, which dipped a little sideways when Steve placed himself on the edge beside you. The warmth of his palm encompassed your head, and you winced under his touch like it scorched you.

"How're you feelin'? Hmm?"

He held a softness in his face with the ease of breathing air. Hazel eyes rounded with care, plump pink lips holding the slightest of pouts. It was always difficult to decipher just what he was thinking. Just when he would strike with more mind-jumbling, confusing affections.

"N-not good," you whispered hoarsely.

Steve's other hand approached your cheek, the back of two fingers gently sweeping down to clear away moistness. He stroked them up and down in small languid motions, like caressing a kitten. He felt the heat of your flesh under his touch, how it flared with every breath taken under his attention. His lip quirked just barely—a soft boyish grin without teeth.

"Hope this don't have nothin' to do with me," Pastor Steve gasped, and that grin slipped into a frown. "Does it, Delilah?"

The blankets draped over your body, the weight of his bag at the end of the bed, the pressure of his body pinning down the edge of the blankets—it suddenly felt immeasurably stifling. Inescapable. You curled your toes and tightened your arms.

Always the good Southern girl. Always the docile lamb—the girl bred to say 'please' and 'thank you' under the blade of a knife.

"N-no," you breathed, head shaking against the pillow.

That soft little grin again, curling the corner of his mouth and pricking your nerves. Steve pulled back a little, hands loosening to limp touches against your face. He nodded slowly, approvingly.

"Oh," he whispered, tone akin to relief. "Good."

Your eyes were drawn to the surface of his mouth when his lips quivered between a smile and a sneer. You pressed further back into the pillow, throat bobbing with a noisy swallow. His fingers slipped down your cheek and into your hair to tuck it behind your ear. You tipped your head opposite his touch when the pads of his fingers traced a firm tendon down the side of your throat. You gasped in small, hitched breaths.

Pastor Steve's touch stopped at the delicate gold chain of your necklace. His fingers glided over the metal, following its path across your collarbones. You watched the door for the handle turning. It never came.

"Shall we pray?" he murmured.

"Yes," you gasped, foolishly falling for the guise of God's salvation under Pastor Steve's sinful implications.

But Steve pulled his touch away and stood to his feet. You fixed your head back in place and watched him cross his hands before his stomach. He tipped his head toward you, indicating recital. Your arms whooshed from under the covers to sit atop your stomach, fingers interwoven like his.

Pastor Steve nodded once, firmly, and closed his eyes. His chin tipped a little higher, shoulders squared straightly.

"Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name," he began, snapped from the syrupy coo he reserved only for you. It was unnerving how easily he slipped into a display of good standing.

Your mouth mimicked his words with habitual softness.

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

The prayer fell from your mouth without thought—but your thoughts, at this moment, were consumed with Steve. The way his throat moved when he spoke, how the thick veins squirmed and bulged under soft, freckled flesh. How his lashes fluttered between words, how his eyes moved behind their lids with discovery. The way his lips curled around vowels, how his tongue peeked through every so often to enunciate.

How you wanted him to touch you again, and how you hated yourself for it.

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."

"Amen," you murmured, fingers sore from their tight squeezing when they came undone.

Pastor Steve opened his eyes and directed them toward you. Your feet fluttered under the sheets, fingers fidgeting with loose threads over your stomach. He had to have mercy on you.

He was silent as he sank back down onto the bed, resuming his wrinkled divot beside your hip. His hand smoothed over yours, scaling your arm to curl his fingers around your elbow. He took small glory in the way your eyes expanded; the acuteness of your tiny breaths.

"Feelin' any better?" he inquired.

You licked over your lips and his eyes darted toward the flash of your tongue. Oh, now you were teasing, were you? His fingers pressed a little firmer into your flesh, body inching closer. His hip pressed against yours, padded by the covers.

"A-a little," you murmured. At this point, you couldn't quite decide if that were true.

Every part of you felt aflame, sweat gathering under your head against the pillow and behind your knees beneath the sheets. A certain, gnawing need flared behind your navel. The need you paired with Pastor Steve's handsome face.

Steve brought his hand to your cheek again and tsked sharply. "Hmm, think you have a fever, sweetheart. We can't have that, can we?"

His fingers reached into the folded hem of the quilt tucked against your chest and began to pull. Peeled gently off your body, knocking your arms aside where they laid limply at your sides. You trembled with every struggled breath, eyes locked on his pleasing face as he bared you to the open air.

His eyes fell to your chest immediately, forgoing the peaked tautness of your nipples to admire the crucifix attached to your neck. It spurred him with a sickening excitement as he pulled the thin cotton sheet down to your feet.

"There's an old fashioned way of breakin' a fever," he whispered, sliding a little closer until you had to tip your head back to see his eyes. "Ever try it, Delilah?"

The shake of your head came at no surprise, and Steve just smiled down at your flushing face. "Figures."

The hand lingering near your feet over the sheet came skittering up your bare leg. Softly, merely grazing with every inch it traveled toward the end of your satin nightgown. All the while, Pastor Steve watched you with careful consideration; with a gentle, coaxing gaze.

"How 'bout we try it. Hmm?"

The gentle parting of your legs had his eyes downturning toward your soft skin. You bobbed your head at him, fisting the sheets at your sides.

"Okay..."

He twisted then, facing you with staunch yet soft determination. His hand swept between your thighs, curling into the elastic band of your panties to pull them down the length of your legs. When they sat around your ankles, his fingers resumed their ghosting touches. Climbing up your calf, your thigh, reaching into the pulsing warmth pooling under your nightgown.

Your softness had him inhaling, greedily dipping the pad of two fingers into the gooey heat of your hole. You shot up toward the headboard with a gasp, muscles tightening with electric shock. Pastor Steve shushed you softly, free hand coming to cup the top of your sweaty head.

"Shh, you just relax," he fawned, thumb rubbing into your temple. "That's a good girl."

He watched his own hand under your nightgown, twisting and pumping, pulling bated breaths and writhing need from your body. He felt the softness of you around him, the slickness congregating between his digits and slipping down his palm. Your cheeks were swelling with such an intense heat that he felt required to kiss them both. Your hand curled into the buttons of his shirt, wrinkling the perfect smoothness of the starched fabric.

"P-pastor," you gasped, thighs quaking around his fingers. "W-what are you d-doin' to me?"

Steve reared back an inch, lapping in your dazed frenzy with wild eyes. "The Lord wants this to happen. He wants me to love you."

A whimper balled up in your throat, coming out as a breathless cry exhaled into his shirt. He watched you slide halfway into his lap like a poor little cat in heat, rubbing your cheek into his stomach with anguished breaths. He could feel the flutter of your approaching peak constricting around his fingers. He pressed his thumb against your swollen clit and watched you silence a sharp cry with your teeth against his thigh. He huffed a chuckle, free hand petting your hair soothingly.

"That's it, that's it," he whispered.

"A-ain't it wrong?" you huffed, pulling your teeth off his thigh and gripping tight onto his arm. "To love me like this?"

Steve gently rubbed his thumb back and forth and pressed his hand to your head to keep you from twisting. He held you against him with a sudden iron force. Sweat beaded at his hairline and under his collar. His arm began to vibrate between your legs. He took a quick glance over toward the door and prayed it didn't open any time soon.

"Not if God wants me to."

And like the astounding proclamation held some sort of power, you turned and buried your mouth into his lap as you gushed over his hand. Pitiful cries wept into his pants, mouth pushing hot air into his crotch and making him twist his fingers in your hair despite himself. He kept his fingers pumping until you kicked your feet in protest.

Steve slipped his fingers from your legs and brought them to the light. Slickness slightly pinked with irritation drenched his fingers and clung to the crevices he happily licked clean. Popping them into his mouth, he sucked himself free of you and let you catch your breath against his thigh. He relaxed his hand into another gentle, taming caress.

"Better hope your mama's asleep," he whispered, gently turning your head to reveal your wet cheeks.

He swept his clean palm over them to clear away the tears. You sniffled and quivered, caught somewhere between bliss and anguish. And Steve just scooped you up, adjusting your body to lie back in its place against the pillow like a prop. He tucked your hair behind your ear again and stroked your cheek. His head cocked aside to inspect your swollen mouth.

"Hmm," he mused softly. "You feelin' better?"

You nodded, fingers pulled over your mouth shakily. Steve pulled your hand down by the wrist, bringing it to sit under your cheek. He took your panties by the waistband and rolled them back up, adjusting your nightgown to sit prettily. He smoothed out the wrinkles and fixed the curled lace. The blankets brought a gust of cool air when he draped them over your body again.

"Now," Steve stood to his feet, eyes trailing the state of you and the mess he made. "You come by the church tomorrow when you're feelin' better. Got somethin' special for you."

Your nose jumped with a tiny sniffle. You hadn't moved from the position he placed you in. The smile on his face suddenly sickened you.

"Okay."

Steve gathered the bag, unused, from the end of the bed. He tucked it under his arm and smoothed the divot in the quilt. As he passed near your head, he stroked two fingers across your cheek again. You pinched your eyes shut. He hummed and swept his thumb across your cheek.

"Sleep tight, little lamb."

His footsteps receded, and the door clicked shut a moment later. The house creaked and groaned under his weight moving through it. You held your breath in your throat as you waited for your mother's voice.

But it never came. And when the screen door slammed shut, and the sun began to fade, you realized you were alone.

But God always prevailed, right?

♰ ♰

#rolly!#pastor!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #dark!steve harrington

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iseebeautyinwords · 1 year

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dating the ri’s | shuri udaku, riri williams , shuriri

summery : just some shuriri hc’s!

taglist : @pinkwright @inmyheadimobsessed @zayswriting @quintessencewrites comment to be added :)

shuri udaku : ☆

you guys are dating before you even know it

she loves parading you around as her girl

matches with you subtly, like with nails, outfit colors stuff like that

i alr said this but imma say it again SHE BITES

like for no good reason shell wake you up by biting your nose. you kissing and all of the sudden shes biting your lip.

she thinks she’s sooo funny when she annoys you

loves spoiling you and loves being spoiled too

def uses pet names like “my girl” “mama” “pretty girl” “princess”

if she’s on the phone or doing anything she’ll be like “nope im busy, im gonna hang out with my wife”

she has a separate calendar for any special dates you two have

speaking of dates SHE LOVESS stay at home dates where you guys can just enjoy each other

loves being called “panther” “pretty”

she knows shes in trouble when you call her by her last name so everytime you do

“Udaku.” shuri immediately stopped whatever it was she was doing. you only called her by her last name when she was in trouble. she turned around to see you standing at the door of your shared bedroom. you where holding an empty chocolate wrapper and shuri knew she was doomed. “care to explain why this was in your drawer” she knew it was your chocolate, and you did not play with your chocolate. “baby- i can explain. it was griot!” immediately the AI came to its own defence. “panther i can not consume solids, and if i could i would be lactose intolerant” you looked back at her with a look of disbelief “blaming poor griot, do you have no shame udaku? put your shoes on you’re going to get me some more.” she didn’t bother to argue that it was almost midnight”

“happy wife, happy life i guess”

riri williams : ☆ ☆

riri did not waste a second to make you hers

like she was ON IT, “you feelin me right? ight so we locked in”

shes a huge sneaker head to ofcourse she put you on game

loves being pampered even though she tries to put a tough front abt it

riri will let you pick her outfits so you guys can match

lets you do her lashes and play in her hair

This girl is tenderheaded as FUCKK so everytime you do anything she starts wailing like you stabbed her.

calls you “ma” “mami” “pookie” and has you saved on her phone as “baby mama #2” just to piss you off ( theres not even a baby mama #1 )

she got you guys a build a bear toy and acts like its your child, buying fits for it and shoes

“you neglected our CHILD y/n,” “Im sorry i put him in jordans when we are wearing dunks today”

loves when you call her princess, because she deserves TOP princess treatment

made a shirt that says “i <3 my girl” and wears it ALL THE TIME.

“riri williams, get that shirt off your body and put on something proper.” you two where getting ready to go out on a cute little arcade date, and since only one of you is sane and normal, riri took it to herself to wear one of her goofy “i heart bae” shirts with your face plastered on the front. “This is proper ma, i cant show you off?” she draped her arms around your waist. “you wore it last time, niggas are gonna think i’m holding you captive.” she chuckled and gave you a quick peck. “Let them think that then, im happy with my fit. I’ll see you in the car!” she quickly ran out laughing before you could respond. “This girl is gonna be the death of me.”

shuriri : ☆ ☆ ☆

getting these two together is something you often wonder “why do i do this to myselfl

they are just plain EVIL

they love to prank you and tease you everywhere you go

theres not a single dull moment

when shuri’s stealing your food riri is distracting you

and they betray each other too, riri kissing shuri while you grab her phone to spam pictures, or shuri randomly calling riri a pet name while you too are in a heated debate about your shared child so you can run away with the infant in question

they are honestly the cutest, they love spoiling you and pampering you, and you love pampering them alike

they love to cuddle and have you play with their hair

shuri makes fun of riri’s tenderhead

shuri teaches you both xhosa and you guys love it

shuri picks up on you and riri’s lingo sooo quick its too cute

sometimes you catch them staring at you just admiring you

you guys defend griot everytime shuri gets a smart mouth with the AI

you guys are always matching, sometimes on accident

“you guys wanna be like me so bad” you look up from your shoe laces and notice that both you and shuri where matching with riri, all three of you have a soft pink hoodie and black pants on with white forces. “bitch, you wanna be like US, the blueprint.” you retorted as you stood up walking over to your jewelry cabinet to put on some hoops. “You both are insane, you copied me” “actually panther you kn-“ “griot shut up.” shuri scolded the AI and both you and riri glared at her. “You do not talk to griot like that Udaku,” “Yea nigga, griot my son, you watch yo mouth talking to him”

#nix writes #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #riri wiliams x reader #riri williams #shuriri #shuriri x reader #shuri headcanon #riri headcannons

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bitterkarella · 3 months

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Midnight Pals: Spicy

JD Barker: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the bad app JD Barker: it's a spicy story about an app that you download on your phone JD Barker: but this app JD Barker: is a little JD Barker: spicy

JD Barker: boy let me tell you JD Barker: it's tough to get word out about a new book these days King: tell me about it! King: i keep posting but nothing's making a dent! King: there's got to be a better way! JD Barker: there is!

JD Barker: i've got a fool proof way to generate publicity for a book King: oh? well, don't just stand there -- tell us! JD Barker: ok, you guys ready for this? JD Barker: might want to get a pen ready to write this down JD Barker: cuz this is gonna be JD Barker: a little spicy

Clive Barker: hey before you say anything, i just wanna remind everyone i am a different person Clive Barker: just really feelin' the need to get out in front and say that

JD Barker: so here's my idea JD Barker: you get booktok influencers to take off their clothes King: Poe: Lovecraft: Clive Barker: Koontz: JD Barker: cuz this book is SPICY!

Koontz: [writing down] "you get booktok influ-" Poe: no no dean Poe: don't write that down Koontz: but he said Poe: it's ok dean just shh Poe: don't worry about it

Angela Carter: you're going to -- !!! Carter: wow Carter: of all the blatantly misogynistic Carter: exploitative JD Barker: [tugging collar] uh oh! Carter: predatory Carter: sexist JD Barker: [tugging intensifies]

JD Barker: or you could get them to do a video answering the question "what's the craziest place you ever had sex?" JD Barker: any questions? Mary Shelley: hey i got SEVERAL fuckin questions JD Barker: [tugging collar] uh oh! Shelley: you say you're paying for this? Angela Carter: mary, no Shelley: shut up this is easy money

JD Barker: oh yeah, we're gonna pay the big bucks to get spicy JD Barker: like, maybe $100 Mary Shelley: oh fuck off

JD Barker: wow listen turns out there's been a little mistake JD Barker: a real whoopsie doodle JD Barker: you're gonna laugh Carter: yeah? try me JD Barker: ha ha JD Barker: [tugging collar] ohhh

JD Barker: this was all just a misunderstanding JD Barker: see, this wasn't my idea JD Barker: it was the PR firm i hired Carter: then guess i need to talk to the head of that firm JD Barker: [collar tugging intensifies]

JD Barker: [wearing hot dog suit] look we're all just trying to find out who did this

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #mary shelley #angela carter #jd barker

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whatavery · 2 months

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Hot and Cold (Art Trade)

My part of an art trade I did with Tucsi featuring Nicocai. Funnily enough, my first time writing that pairing, but it was fun! I tried to get Nico's dialogue down, so please do let me know how I did!

Oh and of course, this story is illustrated by Tucsi as well! Look at it, isn't it adorable?

Part II

---

As his grip on his own hand tightened, Mordecai's ear gave an irritable flicker from the small the unflattering sound of leather squeezing against leather. He let out a short, shuddering sigh. Even in the darkened interior of the car, he could see his breath in front of his face, a small fog that dissipated in seconds. Even clad in his thick, dark coat, the late winter cold still cut through it, chilling him to the bone.

“Aw you feelin’ cold, cher? Need me t’ warm dem hands of yours?” Mordecai didn’t even turn to face his companion in the dark, the larger, light gray cat’s silhouette clear as day despite how dark it was. The unmistakable silhouette of Nicodeme Savoy leaned in towards Mordecai as he side-eyed the Cajun cat. “My Cajun blood keeps me warm – it can warm you too…”

“Are you suggesting I use your blood for warmth?” Mordecai scoffed derisively, still side-eyeing the bigger cat. He turned his green-eyed gaze forward instead, focused on the seemingly vacant area outside. The cold night had a clear sky, the full-moon’s light beaming down, bathing everything in its pale, silvery blue light. Mordecai could see frost glistening off what little plant-life was present outside. “That’s morbid even by your standards, Mr. Savoy…”

“Lagniappe, lagniappe! Never knew you was in’trested in dat sort’a stuff, cher!” Nicodeme laughed in the dark in that deep baritone of his. Mordecai’s left ear gave an irate flicker, before it laid back against his head. He wasn't sure what was worse; being stuck in a dark, cold car at midnight, waiting for a pickup, or the fact that he had to endure Nicodeme's constant comments, his endless onslaught of jabs at him.

“Never mind,” Mordecai sighed, adjusting his glasses for a moment, carefully repositioning his them ever so slightly upon the bridge of his nose. The conversation wasn't one he thought they ought to continue. Who knew where it might take them. Given that this man’s sister had already carved one sigil into Mordecai's chest, he didn’t need to give Nicodeme a reason to think this was an experience he wished to relive.

“Always so serious,” Nicodeme grunted. When Mordecai turned his head to look towards him, he saw Nicodeme in the dark, looking at him with an exaggerated pout on his face, clearly doing his best to come across as what he either thought a serious person looked like… or he was mocking Mordecai, which he knew to be the more likely option. “Just make a bahbin, no jokes. Serious business.”

Mordecai turned the other way, ignoring his companion as he glanced out the window by the passenger seat. He squeezed his hands together tighter, trying to keep warm the best that he could, though the mercilessly cold winter night didn’t leave him with much of a chance.

Finally, Mordecai relented his fidgeting, reluctantly unbuttoning his coat, which immediately caused all the warmth the fabric had trapped between him and it to rush out. As the cold air within the car rushed in to fill the available space, Mordecai shuddered again and pulled out his pocket watch. The conductive nature of the golden metal alloy meant that even through his leather gloves, it felt as though Mordecai held a chunk of ice that somehow got colder and colder. The warmth coming from his own body could only affect the metal for so long, now that it was out in the open.

“They’re late…” Mordecai noted in the most monotonous, most irate tone he could muster. The nerve of these people… Although he knew it wouldn't do him or Marigold any good, the temptation to shoot them on sight when they eventually turned up was quite strong. But Mordecai just put the pocket watch back into his inner pocket. He shuddered again as he hurriedly closed his coat.

“C’mere.” Before Mordecai could even think to tell Nicodeme to leave him alone, he felt two, massive mittens around his own. Although Nicodeme's were barren, not covered by gloves, Mordecai was surprised to find that they were incredibly warm. Perhaps there was some level of truth to the bigger cat’s boastful claims about his Cajun blood. “Dere, ain’t dat better, cher?”

Mordecai said nothing. Although he detested sudden physical contact like this, he had to admit the bigger cat’s warmth was rather pleasant. His hands had previously felt as though they’d been dunked into a bank of snow. Despite there being no snow outside, the air was sharp and cold, and Mordecai knew the only thing worse than sitting in this dark, still vehicle was actually venturing out into he cold, dark night.

When Nicodeme let go again, Mordecai shot him a look, a look which was returned by a grin, a smirk. Mordecai let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“If ya’ want me to keep warmin’ you, all you gotta do is ask,” Nicodeme said with a wink of those yellow eyes. Even in the dark, the Cajun cat’s eyes practically glowed like the fireflies that would take to floating around these parts on warm summer nights.

Mordecai didn’t say a word as he squeezed his hands together again. Any minute now… They had to show up, didn’t they? How much longer could they possibly leave them waiting? When the bigger cat chuckled again, Mordecai sighed once more. “Yes? What did I do now that’s so funny?”

“Yer just so stubborn, cher – commes les vieux. It’s funny. Yer freezin’ cold and don’t want no help stayin’ warm?” Mordecai hadn't much of a clue what Nicodeme was saying when he slipped into French – he already had trouble understanding the Cajun cat when he spoke English, his thick, pronounced accent often making his words difficult to decipher. It didn’t help when he spoke fast, though mercifully he currently spoke rather slowly. “Gar ici, I’ll keep you warm.”

“What are-?” But Mordecai didn’t finish his sentence before a thick log of an arm was slipped around him. Pulled sideways, Mordecai found himself pressed up against the massive, warm body of the Cajun cat. He was surprised by just how warm he was; his body was like a furnace. It was no wonder he rarely took to wearing warm clothes, even in winter. It was strangely impressive in a way…

“Dere, isn’t dat better? Yer shiverin’, boo,” Nicodeme whispered in the dark. Mordecai gave the most feeble of squirms, a halfhearted attempt at breaking free from the already loose grip the bigger cat had on him. Nicodeme's built form was a formidable one; Mordecai knew he put great effort into staying in shape and that he was very strong; he’d witnessed Nicodeme wrestling men bigger than himself, using his brute strength to throw people around with little effort. If he truly wanted to, he could have put Mordecai in an iron grip to keep him from slipping away… but he didn’t.

Despite this, Mordecai remained in place. “You’re suffocating me…”

“I’m barely holdin’ on. I think yer startin’ t’ like me, mon cher,” Nicodeme insisted, giving yet another chuckle. Mordecai didn’t respond as he stayed put, deciding that keeping quiet was his best option; the more he spoke, the more ammo this bigger man had for teasing him, no matter what he did say. “Are ya’ feelin’ warmer?”

“… yes.” Mordecai didn’t want to admit it, but being pressed up against the bigger cat was indeed helping him stay warm, much like sitting by a fireplace. It likely came down to the bigger cat’s metabolism, Mordecai thought to himself. Or maybe he was just so cold that even the weakest source of heat would warm his bones right up.

“An’ what do dey say when a friend helps ‘em out?” Nicodeme asked in an almost sing-song kind of voice. He may as well have been waggling his finger at Mordecai, who shot him an irritated look.

“… Thank you, Mr. Savoy,” he grunted reluctantly.

“Pleasure’s all mine, cher,” Nicodeme said before Mordecai felt the bigger cat lean towards him. Having turned his head slightly to look, Mordecai's entire being tensed up the moment Nicodeme's lips made contact. He didn’t hit Mordecai's cheek, nor did he hit his lips. It was right in between, the side of Mordecai's black and white muzzle, right by the edge of where his white-fur blended into the blackness.

As if he’d been poked with a red hot iron, Mordecai felt his entire face warming up in an instant as he stared at Nicodeme in disbelief. The bigger cat looked back at him, before he roared with laughter, to which Mordecai immediately shushed him. “Not so loud…! What was that for?”

“Well, I thought it could warm ya’ up – an’ I was right, cher, yer almost glowin’,” the gray cat said, smirking at him. Nicodeme's left arm had been resting against the window on the driver’s side of the car, but now the bigger cat moved his left hand towards Mordecai. He felt that big, strong mitt of his brushing his cheek. “Don’t be shy now… I know ya’ like me, mon cher.”

Mordecai gritted his teeth, grumbling something under his breath to which Nicodeme raised both eyebrows inquisitively. Mordecai spoke up, though his voice was strangely shaky. “Highly unprofessional… You shouldn’t go giving people kisses like that – and certainly not me…”

“Not like dat? Den how? On de lips instead?” Nicodeme asked, his tone clearly feigning ignorance, as if he truly hadn't a clue what Mordecai meant. The tuxedo cat glared at him in the dark. He felt those thick, rough fingers brushing his cheek once more with a surprising level of gentleness that Mordecai wouldn't have thought this big man capable of.

“No. Please, don’t you even think about-” Mordecai was cut off almost immediately when Nicodeme put a small amount of force in to turn his head till they faced each other.

“Think about what, cher?” he asked, his gaze locked onto Mordecai's green eyes.

“Stop it…”

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Mordecai almost gasped. Why did he sound so breathless all of sudden? Why did he feel breathless? His eyes widened when Nicodeme leaned closer still. “Wait…”

“Hmmm? For what, boo?” Nicodeme asked in a low, raspy whisper in the dark. His voice was so low, but it was as though he may as well be shouting at Mordecai. He heard and locked onto each and every word. “Nervous?”

“I think I hear them… They’re here,” Mordecai lied. The bigger cat’s ears perked up as he listened for a moment, his gaze turning from Mordecai to quickly scan their surroundings outside the car. Of course, there wasn't a soul to be seen in any direction.

Grinning, Nicodeme leaned closer still. “Just tell me to stop – anytime you want, cher…”

Mordecai opened his mouth, but not as much as a squeak left his lips. Nicodeme tilted his head to the side. Mordecai could feel his heart racing, as if threatening to burst right through his rib-cage. He let out one last shuddering breath before it happened.

The second Nicodeme's lips made contact with his, Mordecai felt as though he had been lit on fire, warmth coursing throughout every fiber of his being. He felt a tingling sensation down his spine all the way to the white tip of his tail.

It was a brief experience, Nicodeme mercifully deciding not to prolong it. When he pulled back, Mordecai saw that smirk he'd gotten so used to over the past few months. “Yer shakin’, boo. Do ya’ need more warmth?”

“No…” Mordecai had thought that it was Nicodeme who was shaking, but he realized that it was indeed himself. But at least he was no longer cold. “Please… Let go of me, Mr. Savoy…”

Nicodeme seemed surprised, but he gave a light chuckle, releasing Mordecai immediately, much to his relief. “I think you can start callin’ me Nico now…”

“And why is that?” Mordecai snapped once he’d sufficiently calmed down. His heart wasn't racing anymore and he wasn't feeling tingly… but the warmth had also left his body the moment he scooted back to where he’d been sitting previously.

“I s’pose I just think it’s strange t’ be formal with someone you kissed,” Nico said, warmth immediately rushing back into Mordecai’s cheeks. The bigger cat gave a soft laugh at this, Mordecai not meeting his eyes.

Without a word, Mordecai slid sideways towards the bigger cat, pushed himself up against him and kissed him on the lips. He gripped Nico’s vest as if to hold on for dear life, like the last piece of floating debris in a shipwreck that would keep his head above water. Mordecai didn’t make the kiss last for too long either, it was just a firm, but brief kiss.

Mordecai was left breathless again and Nico seemed taken by surprise, though he did smile. “Ah, what a lovely surprise…”

“Don’t you mention it to anyone… Ever… What now?” Mordecai asked, feeling annoyance boiling up inside him again when Nico started to chuckle. What had he done now that was so amusing to him? Would he ever stop-

Mordecai gave a start when he heard loud tapping upon the window behind him. Whirling around so fast his glasses nearly flew off, he looked through the passenger seat window, horrified to see that they were no longer alone. It was time to do business… But how much had they seen?

Based on the way Nico kept snickering as he exited the car, Mordecai felt his heart sinking… He was never going to hear the end of this...

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy fanfiction #lackadaisy mordecai #mordecai heller #lackadaisy nico #nico savoy #nicocai

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blue-jisungs · 10 months

Text

HAZE

a/n. i’m so pissed bc the pic at genius didn’t have the lil description as all the other ones… sigh… ignore it…

living with taehyun was never boring. sure, sometimes you were alone for longer amounts of time when he was on tours or at practice until late night but even despite that, it wasn’t dull. thanks to his personality, you were always entertained.

well, you didn’t have midnight conversations because your boyfriend a) slept like a rock b) denied to waste his beauty sleep c) you didn’t want him to miss on his well deserved sleep because of you. but your equivalent of midnight talks were just… philosophical conversations while during mundane tasks. that’s why he hit you with the iconic “would you still love me if i was a worm?” during cooking, a whole debate whether mint chocolate is actually good while you deep cleaning your room or once during ironing you almost burned your clothes because you were so invested in listening how taehyun explained the whole ridiculous aspects of earth being possibly flat.

today, on a friday night you put the dirty laundry in a basket while taehyun was scribbling something in a text book.

“tynnie, do you want to go to the laundry room near by? the one that’s open whole night, self…” you started and were met with an unexpected slam of closing book.

“of course” he hummed, standing up

“that’s great, you’ll carry this one and i’ll carry the lighter one” you sent him a toothy grin. taehyun just scoffed, placing a quick peck on your nose.

you quickly grabbed one of your boyfriend’s hoodies and pulled it over before heading out.

the air was fresh and breezy, a scent of summer night hitting your nose. the sun has already set, more and more stars starting to blink on the navy sky. even though the street was empty, you could hear the pleasant buzz of people far away. after all, seoul never sleeps.

“y/n, i never told you this…” taehyun started suddenly, causing you to bring you back to reality. you looked at him curious, his brows abbot furrowed “i met you after i had a rough time in my life, i had given up hope. and you… you reminded me how things can be good again”

you pushed the door open to the laundry room. expectantly, it was empty. soft, quiet music played in the room, lightened by a warmish light. you looked at taehyun, unsure what to say. you didn’t know about all of this that he just said.

“i… hyun…” you mumbled, his features softening. a tender smile adorned his face, dimples showing.

“you don’t have to say anything, what happened – happened. i was in a haze and things became clear again, thanks to you” he hummed, putting the basket with laundry on top of one of the machines.

you started sorting them, his presence making the activity more comforting.

“got me feelin' alright when the feeling's all gone, got me feelin' uptight every moment you're gone” he blurted out, helping you out “it’s a hell of a ride lovin’ you, i’ll admit but in a good way. it’s good, adventurous, never dull and full of love”

taehyun focused on the laundry, wording out his thoughts in such a deep thought that he failed to notice how you started shaking.

“i love being an idol, i really do but all this… pretending, hiding secrets, holding back. and then you pick me up, now i don't have to play pretend and i am human once again” taehyun continued, hands automatically throwing the dark clothes into one maschine and the bright ones into the other.

you sniffled quietly and he snapped back, boba eyes widening when he noticed your teary eyes.

“oh, y/n” his eyes softened, dropping what he was doing. his arms pulled you closer, hand going to the back of your head. you started sniffling, clutching his t-shirt “why are you crying?”

you scoffed and nuzzled your head into his chest.

“because of you, dumbass. you can’t say such heartwarming stuff out of a sudden” you let out a chuckle, pulling away. taehyun’s hands moved to cup your hands gently, thumbs wiping your pearly tears.

“why not? it’s the truth, it’s on my mind. i want you to know this. for expamle when i open my eyes, hope to see your face… or the feeling that if i’m with you, i’ll never die” he said, shaking his head when he noticed your eyes tearing up again “stop crying!”

“then stop giving me reasons to do so!” you laughed, scoffing.

“sorry… will you forgive me if i kiss you?” taehyun hummed, tilting his head with a boyish smile.

“maybe. let me turn on the laundry first though” you poked his chest and wriggled out of his grip.

quickly adding the necessary laundry detergents, you put on the maschine.

you turned around to face taehyun again but he had other plans.

with one swift move he grabbed you by your waist and put on the top of the maschine, next to the empty basket. you let out a yelp of surprise, causing him to giggle.

then he stood between your legs, calloused hands cupping your face. taehyun shortened the distance between you two, planning to kiss you when the soft in the background suddenly changed to their cover of “fairy of shampoo”.

his eyes widened in surprise and you took advantage of that, pulling him closer by his shirt and crashing your lips on his. he hummed into the kiss, letting you take the lead.

you pulled away slightly, lips resting against his but not pressing onto them.

“you’re really my fairy of shampoo, huh?” he grunted upon the song’s chorus playing. you scoffed, the air tickling his skin.

“i love you so much” you whispered, heart thumping in your chest.

“i guess i love you too” he murmured and this time, he initiated the kiss.

the buzz of washing machine, their song in the background and pleasant smell of fresh laundry made taehyun realise something.

that he wants to put on the suit and the tie. that he wants to see you in a wedding dress, with a golden ring adorning your finger.

txt masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang

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trickphotography2 · 9 months

Text

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 10

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 9 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 10

I’m late.

The thought jolted you awake. It was still dark as you reached for your phone to check the time, knocking over the bottle of Tylenol in the process. After confirming that you still had ten minutes until your alarm went off, you collapsed onto the pillows. The room spun behind your closed eyes as you removed the now-dry washcloth from your forehead and pressed a palm against your temple.

A low-grade headache had been plaguing you for the last few days, stubbornly not moving toward a migraine, so you couldn’t justify using your meds. As it was, you still had some nausea and had gotten sick at work the last two days. Thankfully, Jake was on mids - working from 4:00 PM until midnight since he was helping the Strike Fighter Weapons School Pacific with dog fight training - and hadn’t been on base to make you go home. Your team was reviewing contract bids for a new plane towing machine and needed all hands on deck. You just had to make it through today and tomorrow, and then you’d have a long weekend to relax. Jake could go to the 4th of July party that Phoenix was hosting - you would sleep.

When the world righted itself, you slowly sat up and breathed through a wave of nausea. The pills rattled as you shook out two tablets from the bottle and swallowed them with a sip of water, glancing at Jake sleeping beside you. For the first few nights he’d been on mids, you’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home. With his schedule, you passed one another in the house without having actual time together. A few hours of uncomfortable dozing was worth the minutes you talked until he sent you to bed and watched TV to wind down for a couple of hours before passing out. Since your headache started, you’d gone to bed right after work. Other than exchanging texts, you hadn’t had a chance to really talk to him all week.

Slipping out of bed, you took your phone and headed towards the bathroom, turning off your alarm. You waited until the door was closed to flick on the light, not wanting to wake Jake up. Bracing your elbows on your knees while peeing, you hung your head and breathed through your nose and out your mouth, wishing that you’d taken the time to run back to your apartment to get your nausea meds after work yesterday, but you’d been so exhausted.

The shower warmed as you brushed your teeth and tried not to gag. Deciding that you couldn’t handle the noisy blow dryer this morning, you tied back your hair and stepped under the hot water. Tilting your head back, you exhaled deeply as your muscles relaxed, keeping one hand on the wall when the heat made you lightheaded.

The bed was empty when you crept out of the bathroom dressed for work, and you heard the gurgling of the coffee pot. Following the noise, you found Jake leaning against the counter, ankles crossed while scrolling on his phone, boxers slung low on his hips. His eyes were red with exhaustion when they lifted to meet yours, a sleepy smile crossing his lips as he set the phone down. “Mornin’,” he rasped.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” he lied, opening his arms as you drew close. You pressed your cheek to his sleep-warm chest, sinking into his comforting embrace. “You feelin’ any better?” His accent always came out more when he was tired.

“Not really,” you shrugged. His hand swept the length of your back as he kissed the top of your head.

“You know, I learned something pretty interestin’ last night.” When you hummed, he chuckled. “Apparently, orgasms help with headaches.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he asked, pulling away to meet your gaze. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“It’s not exactly the first thing I think of when my head hurts. Besides, I have two perfectly good hands.”

“Your boyfriend also has two perfectly good hands. And a mouth. And a dick.”

“And a work schedule that isn’t exactly conducive to a sex life.”

“Darlin’, I’d happily give up an hour of sleep to help you feel better.”

“How generous of you,” you chuckled. He pressed his lips to your forehead before kissing you.

“You’re going to the doctor if you don’t feel better tomorrow.”

“It’s just a headache.”

“They shouldn’t last a week.”

“Whatever, Dad,” you huffed. Jake lightly swatted your ass, a teasing smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

“Careful, baby - I might just start likin’ you calling me Daddy.” He kissed you again, lips a soft counterpoint to his rough stubble, before guiding your head back onto his shoulder. “Take the day off.”

“I can’t. We’re almost done with the first run through the bids.” When a wave of nausea hit, you turned to press your forehead to his collarbone, fingers digging into his back as you breathed through it.

“Darlin’.”

“I’m fine,” you said once it passed. Smiling weakly, you pulled away. “You should go back to bed.”

“Any chance you can join me? For medical reasons,” he added, brushing the hair from your face.

“I’m gonna be late.”

“Fine. But I’m serious - you’re going to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Groaning, his head fell back against the cabinets as you stepped out of his arms and got your coffee ready.

The morning passed in a blur of documents as the team sat in the conference room. Cruz had picked up a box of donuts, and you’d nibble on a plain one while sipping your coffee. During a bathroom break, you’d grabbed another sports drink from the hanger break room, tossed two dollars into the jar, and added the ninth tally mark by your name. But as it got closer to lunchtime, half of the donut sat heavily in your stomach, and most of the coffee sat in front of you.

“I’m heading to the food court if you want to join,” Cruz offered, pushing away from the conference table.

“I’m in,” Woolsey agreed, as did Armitage and Gale.

“I’m good,” you said. Lunch didn’t sound appealing, but a power nap in the car did. Once you’d tossed the donut and grabbed your thermos, you headed to your office to grab your keys. When you bent to retrieve your purse from the desk drawer, another wave of nausea hit. Groaning, you sat in your chair, dropping your head into your hands. Sweat dotted your brow as your ears started to ring.

You stared, trying to figure out where you were and why you were looking at the ceiling tiles. Turning your head, you saw the bottom of a desk and realized you were on the office floor. Your ears rang louder, and you widened your eyes as the room spun. Your hand shook when you held it in front of your face. From the corner of your eye, you saw feet approaching and looked up to see Armitage’s shocked face. Her mouth moved, and you frowned. She crouched and pushed against your shoulder when you tried to sit up. “What happened?” you asked, sinking back onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ, are you alright?”

“I…I think I fainted.”

“Shit.” She turned to look out the office door but whipped around when you gagged. Pushing onto your elbow, you reached for the trashcan and vomited. “Damn it. Are you okay?” Draping your arm over the rim of the trashcan and resting your head on your forearm, you breathed through your mouth, trying to keep from fainting again. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” She was right. Your left foot had a deep scratch, and blood was dripping into your shoe - you’d caught it on your desk drawer. “Fuck.”

“You need to go to the hospital. I can drive you.”

“No, I’m fine. I… I can go myself.”

“You can’t drive.” You groaned, knowing that she was right. But the idea of having your coworker take you to a hospital - and it would have to be off base - was too humiliating. You knew what you had to do. Armitage helped you into your chair, which had rolled across your office and hit the wall, before grabbing your phone.

“Hey, darlin’. You on lunch?”

“Can you come to get me?”

The Navy spent a lot of money training their pilots to be calm under pressure, which was the only way Hangman was able to drive to the Bounty Hunter hanger, and then across town to a civilian hospital. After escorting you into the ER and getting you settled into a chair with the paperwork, he parked the truck and hurried back inside.

Other than when you stepped into the restroom, Jake never left you, keeping his arm draped over your shoulders. Tucked against his side, you kept your eyes closed as you told him what happened, his lips grazing your temple. Thankfully, your foot stopped bleeding as you waited the hour to go back to an exam room. You could tell he wasn’t happy they sent a medical student to take your history. Jake stood to the side, arms crossed and eyes following every movement.

“Your paperwork says you’ve had a headache for a few days. Is that common?”

“No. I have migraines, but they’re usually gone in a day or two.”

“Any stressors?”

“Other than work, not really.” He nodded again.

“Do you know what usually triggers your migraines?”

“Stress or my period.”

“Is your menstrual cycle normal?”

“Pretty much,” you shrugged.

“And you said your last period was about a month ago?” You nodded. “The paperwork says that you were sitting before you fell. Were you sitting for a long time?”

“Kind of. But I’d walked to my office.”

“When you fainted, did you hit your head?” You nodded. “Did you vomit afterward?” Nod. “Do you know how long you were unconscious?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He left after cleaning and bandaging your foot, and a few minutes later, you had your blood drawn and was hooked up for an EKG. Jake stepped out to call his CO and tell him he wouldn’t be at work that night, then slid his hand into yours as you closed your eyes and tried to stay calm. When the tests were done, you curled up on the bed and dozed with your head on his shoulder.

Around 3:00 PM, the doctor finally came into the room with the med student and shook both of your hands before settling on the stool and tapping on her tablet. “So your labs look good. You’re a little dehydrated, but I’m not seeing any issues with your heart. I did want to ask a couple of follow-up questions. Have you had any sharp pain recently in your stomach, pelvis, or shoulder?”

“No,” you frowned.

“The lightheadedness - has it been consistent or just the one time?”

“I’ve felt a little light-headed off and on, but it goes away in a minute or so.”

“Any irregular bleeding?” You shook your head. “Great. So it looks as though you experienced vasovagal syncope, which is when your blood pressure has a sudden drop. You mentioned that your periods trigger your headaches, and hormone fluctuations can trigger one.”

“So she’s okay?” Jake asked, squeezing your hand. The doctor smiled at him.

“Yes, she’s okay. I wanted to discuss some of the symptoms you were experiencing before the syncope. You mentioned being nauseous - was that just before the syncope?”

“No, it’s been a couple of days.”

“Have you vomited?” Nod. “Have you been keeping food down?”

“Not really. I’ve mostly been eating crackers the last couple of days.” You pointedly ignored the look Jake gave you.

“Have you been more fatigued recently?” Brow furrowed, you nodded again. “How about any other physical symptoms?”

“Like?”

“Any tenderness in your breasts?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Jake answered, clearly thinking about how he’d brushed your nipples in the shower over the weekend and you’d threatened to punch him in the throat. You blushed. The med student snorted. The doctor met your gaze, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“The labs show that your HCG levels are elevated, which probably triggered the vasovagal syncope.” Her eyes darted between you and Jake before she added, “HCG is what we look for to confirm a pregnancy.”

The word echoed through the exam room. You froze, feeling Jake’s hand flex around yours. “P-pregnancy?” you stuttered.

“Yes,” the doctor looked between your stunned faces. “I would recommend setting up an appointment with your OB in the next couple of days to see how far along you are and to monitor your morning sickness. Right now, it’s unclear if your nausea is because of your headache or hyperemesis gravidarum, which is severe morning sickness. I’m a bit concerned about you being dehydrated, so make sure you’re taking in as much fluid as possible - water, sports drinks, soup, popsicles, whatever you can keep down. For food, go with the BRAT diet - bread, rice, applesauce, and toast. And I want you to try and eat a couple of small meals throughout the day. You want high carbs and protein with low fat.”

“I’m going to write you a prescription for something to help with the nausea. For the headache, again, hydrate and eat. You can take acetaminophen as needed. I want you to return to the ED or urgent care if you still can’t keep anything down, if you faint again, or if you feel any pain in your abdomen or shoulder. And make sure that you take your time when standing up - your blood volume increases during pregnancy, and your pressure can drop. Compression socks can help. Do you have any questions?”

“I’m pregnant?”

Her smile was soft when she nodded, “You’re pregnant.”

“Darlin’, you awake?” Jake asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat. Your seat was tilted back, eyes closed behind sunglasses against the setting sun. It would be so easy to pretend you were sleeping, but you held out your hand and felt his palm slide against yours before the soft brush of his lips against your knuckles. “You feeling okay?”

“My head still hurts, I’m nauseous and exhausted, but other than that, I’m okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was that bad?”

“It hasn’t been - this isn’t the first time I’ve had a headache last this long. I’ve only been dizzy a couple of times.”

“That’s a couple of times too many.” When you tried to pull your hand away, he tightened his grip. “I’m gonna get you settled at home, then go to the store and pick up some stuff. You need to eat.” The thought of food turned your stomach, and you rolled your lips together, focusing on your breathing. He momentarily let go of your hand, and the air conditioner blasted, the cool air hitting your flushed skin. “Tell me if I need to pull over.”

Thankfully, you made it back to the house. When Jake stopped to let the garage open, you threw open the door and rushed inside as he parked, barely making it to the guest bathroom to vomit bile. A minute later, he set a glass on the counter, pulled your hair away from your face, and rubbed soothing circles on your back. “I thought morning sickness was only in the morning,” you groaned.

“Well, you’re an overachiever.” You let out a watery chuckle, sitting back on your heels and blowing your nose. He handed you the glass of water before leaning against the doorframe. Your hand shook when he pulled you to your feet, and his lips pressed into a thin line. As soon as you rinsed your mouth and washed the tears from your face, he lifted you off your feet and carried you into the bedroom. He left after setting you on the bed and telling you to get comfortable.

Sighing, you stripped off your shirt and slacks and pulled one of his t-shirts from the dresser before retreating to the bathroom to brush your teeth and remove your makeup. He returned as you slipped under the covers, handing you an ice pack and setting one of his sports drinks on your bedside table. Carefully, he sat beside you, planting a hand on the bed by your hip as you placed the ice pack on the back of your neck. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now,” you sighed, blinking back tears. “I think I’m still in shock.”

“You and me both, darlin’. So much for it just being a headache.” Jake’s smile was soft, contradicting the tension in his shoulders, as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m gonna go to the store. You want anything in particular?” When you shook your head, he left.

Once you heard the rumble of the garage close, you turned onto your side and hugged your pillow. You and Jake had talked about kids before but hadn’t had strong feelings either way. When picturing your future, you thought about vacations and career advancement. You could see a kid or two, but that wasn’t the first thing you thought of. It wasn’t like your friends who always identified being a parent as something they had to have in their future.

You’d decided to wait until after getting married to make the final decision. But it seemed like the universe was going to make you choose early.

The first tears fell as you slid your hand under Jake’s shirt and cradled your stomach.

Jake walked around the grocery store in a daze, tossing items into the cart.

Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his kid.

He'd been scared when you called him to say you needed to go to the hospital. Not only because you were hurt but because he couldn’t take you to the nearest hospital - the one on base - but had to go to a civilian one. He’d already been mentally crafting his argument to push up getting married when the doctor dropped the bombshell.

Pregnant.

That word terrified him. He’d never pictured himself as a dad, even when his ex tried to convince him to have a kid. Jake knew he wouldn’t be a good one, especially if they had a boy, not with how he’d been raised. He didn’t want a kid to grow up hating him for doing a shitty job.

But he couldn’t deny that his heart leapt when the doctor said you were having his child.

Something soft crushed under his shoe. Jake stopped and stepped back, lifting his foot to see a small elephant stuffed animal with a pacifier attached to its trunk. Slowly, he scooped it off the floor while looking around the aisle to see if someone had dropped it. He spotted a guy in NWU camo pushing a cart with a car seat, turning left in front of him. After grabbing a jar of applesauce, he followed, speeding along the aisles to catch sight of him again.

Of course, he caught up with him on the aisle with all the baby stuff. “Hey, excuse me. Is this yours?” The man tossed a package of diapers in the cart before looking at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh shit. Yeah, thanks, man,” he replied, closing the few steps to take it. “My wife would kill me if I came home without Wubbie - bedtime’s hard enough without his paci.” Jake fought the urge to raise an eyebrow but nodded.

“No problem.” He glanced at the car seat and saw that the baby was wearing the man’s service hat and felt his lips twitch into a smile. With a nod, he pushed the cart away, unable to stop looking at the shelves as he walked. There were so many different types of diapers and wipes. And it was all expensive. His steps faltered, and he grimaced when he saw a straw-looking thing for literally sucking boogers out of a baby’s nose.

“That thing is disgusting but a lifesaver,” the guy said, coming up behind Jake and seeing what he was looking at. He grabbed a bottle of baby lotion and tossed it into the cart. “You having your first kid?”

“Uh,” Jake said, “yeah, I guess I am. How’d you know?”

“You’ve got that freaked-out new dad look,” he chuckled, then glanced at Jake’s cart. “Plus, you’ve got a shit ton of stuff for morning sickness. My wife swore by these ginger candies they’ve got over in the pharmacy area.”

“Thanks, I’ll grab some.”

“Congrats, man. You’re in for a fun time. And thanks again for the pacifier.” Jake stood there for a long moment before heading to the pharmacy.

What he needed more than anything right now was to talk to someone and get his head on straight before going into the conversation with you. Having kids was supposed to be something you discussed in a couple of years, but not now. Not when he didn’t have time to really think about what it would mean to be a dad. His whole adult life had been focused on becoming the best naval aviator. Now that he’d accomplished that, he had time to breathe, enjoy being in a relationship, and get promoted to Lieutenant Commander. A baby would complicate that.

Not that he didn’t like kids. Some other officers had them, and he liked them in theory. They were cute, and he knew any child the two of you made would be adorable. But they were a lot of work. And he didn't know how to be a father. His example growing up was everything that he didn’t want. Jake knew he could focus too much on his career and what he wanted to do, which was, unfortunately, similar to his dad. He could be mean and lose his temper when annoyed.

As much as he wanted to call Coyote and talk about how much he was freaking out, he couldn’t. His best friend would tell him what he wanted to hear, but Jake wasn’t sure what that was. He needed someone who would give him an honest opinion without considering his feelings.

And, thankfully, he had just the person for that.

The phone rang as he stopped in his driveway. Rather than reach for the remote to open the garage, he waited.

“Hangman.”

“Am I going to be a shitty father?” The words were out before he could stop them.

There was silence for a long moment before Rooster groaned. “Jesus, Hangman. At least tell me that you knocked up your girlfriend and not - ”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jake snapped. “This was a dumb fuckin’ idea. Don’t tell anyone - ”

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry,” Rooster said quickly. “Don’t know why you didn’t call Coyote for this.”

“Because he’s gonna tell me what I wanna hear. I need to know what the truth is.”

“And I’m the guy to do that? The one in the squad who grew up without their dad and has Mav as a pseudo-parent?”

“The only thing you’ve never hesitated on is calling me on shit, Rooster.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Exactly. So am I gonna be a shitty dad?” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose as the silence dragged on.

“You’re dangerous in the air, but when your team needs you, you’re there. You get the job done.”

He cleared his throat, “That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.” Rooster sighed, “The fact that you’re worried about this means you’re not gonna be a shitty dad, Jake.” Hot tears sprang to his eyes as he let his head fall back, and he quickly brushed away the few that fell. After a long moment, Rooster cleared his throat. “So when’s she due?”

“No idea. Just found out a couple of hours ago.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” The silence stretched again. “Thanks for… that. And could you not tell anyone about this? We’re…”

“Yeah, no, of course. And…uh… congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” When the call disconnected, Jake folded his arms over the steering wheel and rested his head on his forearms. There was a tiny flicker of hope in his chest that he wouldn't be the worst father if one of his strongest critics believed in him. Hell, he was pretty sure all he needed to do was do the opposite of everything his own did. Sighing, he hit the garage opener and pulled the truck in before grabbing the bags from the backseat.

When he opened the door, he saw you standing in the kitchen, sipping a glass of water. You looked pale as the corners of your lips lifted in a tired smile. “Hi.”

“Hey, darlin’. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I was, for a little while.”

“Were you sick again?”

“Almost. How about you? How are you doing?”

“I’m not the one who ended up in the hospital today,” he replied, setting the bags on the counter and starting to unpack them, his back to you. Sighing, you set the glass down and crossed the kitchen to wrap your arms around him, head resting between his shoulders.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.” `

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Are you as freaked out as I am?” When he huffed, you moved to lean your back against the counter beside him. His eyes met yours. “I know we said we’d have the kid conversation in a couple of years, but what’s your gut telling you?”

Jake’s gaze drifted down your body to land on your stomach. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before answering. “I think we can do this.”

“I think we can, too,” you said. “But do we want to?”

“Do you?”

Your heart beat fast as you studied him, trying to figure out what his response would be. With a deep breath and tears stinging your eyes, you said, “I’m terrified but…kind of. You?”

Knowing that this moment would change everything, Jake swallowed hard and nodded.

Your gasp echoed in the kitchen as you clapped your hands to your mouth. A slow grin spread across his lips as he turned to face you, gently tugging your hands away to wipe the tears on your cheeks. “Darlin’, are we having a baby?”

“We’re having a baby,” you whispered.

Jake’s kiss was soft, interrupted by his laugh as he tugged you close. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the quick thumping of his heart against your palm. “You know,” he said, “this means we’re gonna have to renegotiate the contract.”

“Let’s focus on one life-changing thing at a time, please,” you groaned.

“‘M gonna put a pretty little somethin’ right here a hell of a lot sooner,” he grinned, lifting your left hand and tapping your ring finger.

“I hope you’ve been saving up, then.”

“I can probably scrape something together.”

Little did you know that Jake had an engagement ring tucked into the back of his closet.

He’d called your parents to ask for their blessing to marry you on the ship coming home from the uranium mission.

----------------------------------------------

Author's Note: The way I STRUGGLED with this chapter. Given the story synopsis, you know the ultimate decision, but a surprise pregnancy when you're in your 30s is a moment to pause and reflect on what you want. And with Jake's daddy issues, I think he would struggle with the idea of being a good parent. Hopefully Rooster was able to set him straight!

Read Chapter 11

Tag list: @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @mayhemmanaged; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily; @rest-of-brazilian-wax; @percysaidnever

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman smut #hangman fic #D-Day fic #jake hangman seresin

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alltheirdamn · 6 hours

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 6 Buried Truths

Summary: When the past can only be contained for so long, Joel is there to pick up the pieces. Rating: 18+ MDNI Explicit Word Count: 8.4k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, mentions of a hospital setting, mentions of injury, mentions of past trauma, a FUCK ton of angst, little sprinkle of smut, another cliffhanger (don't worry, i won't make you wait long) A/N: This is the part where you all collectively say OH...

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel’s hand remained wrapped around yours as you stared blankly out the plane window. Everything had been a blur the last twenty-four hours. After you got off the call with Beth, you ran through calling the school to find a substitute, packed what you could into a small carry-on bag, and went online to book the first ticket out to Boston. You tried to talk Joel into staying back in Austin; he had work and Sarah to care for, but he was adamant about coming. He made a quick call to Tommy to make a plan for Sarah and contacted his work to find coverage for the rest of the week. He was only apart from you when he rushed home to pack his travel bag. Then you were both off to the airport: you bleary-eyed and Joel more stoic than you could ever recall seeing. He hadn’t said much between security and the flight gate, but you were too exhausted to try and force conversation.

“Hey,” Joel said, nudging you. “How you feelin’, baby?”

You glanced at him and shrugged, the tears from earlier still drying on your cheeks.

“I’m okay, I guess.”

His fingers squeezed around yours before he brought your hand to his mouth to kiss it softly.

“He’s gonna be alright,” he assured. “Beth said he’s recovering now, right? It’s just gonna take some time.”

While you and Joel were waiting at the gate, you called Beth again to find out what happened with your dad. She explained he had been up on the ladder fixing the roofing above the patio when his foot caught in one of the steps, ultimately forcing him to fall ten feet to the ground. He had a broken hip, a fracture in his lower spine, and a severe concussion—leaving him in a temporary medically induced coma. Beth had said he was lucky to be alive, but the anxiety still bubbled inside you in fear of what he would endure through his recovery. The thought of his injury only elevated the already strong emotions connecting you to the past, making it nearly impossible to cope with your dad’s accident while you simultaneously still struggled with your own.

The plane made a rocky touch-down in Boston well after midnight, the autumn rain causing the plane to slide against the tarmac before coming to a jarring stop. You and Joel rushed around the other passengers, filing out of the plane and sprinting through the airport to find Beth. You singled her out of the crowd, her face rosy and hair piled onto her head in a messy bun. The second she had your arms around you, you crumpled to the ground as the sobs broke out of your chest.

“It’s okay, sis,” she said, her voice breaking. “He’s stable. It’s gonna be okay.”

“What if—what if he’s not?” You sobbed.

You clutched onto her sweater, your head buried into her shoulders. She hushed you, her hand rubbing into your back.

“The doctors said he’ll make a full recovery. We just need to wait,” she said.

“Is there any…” Your voice broke once more.

“No,” she whispered. “There’s no serious damage to his brain.”

You choked on your breath, relief swimming through your veins. This wouldn’t be like your accident; he would be okay.

“C’mon,” she urged, pulling you to your feet.

You wiped your nose across your sleeve, sheepishly turning to Joel. Gesturing from him to Beth, you gave a weak smile.

“Joel, this is Beth. Beth, this is Joel.”

Joel and Beth stood motionless, staring awkwardly at each other. You glanced between them, your eyebrows furrowing. Why weren’t they saying anything?

Finally, Joel cleared his throat and extended his hand to Beth.

“Nice to meet you, Beth. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Beth took his hand cautiously, giving him a friendly smile.

“Same here.”

You’d revisit this awkward interaction later, but you needed to go home.

“Is mom home?” You asked Beth.

You reached for your bag, but Joel gently nudged your hand away. He took it into his hand and walked to the parking garage behind you and your sister.

“Her and Stella are at the hospital,” she explained.

You stopped in your tracks, sending Joel staggering into your back with a soft oof.

“Sorry,” you muttered to Joel. You turned back to Beth. “Take me home.”

“No,” she said sternly. “They want you there. You need to be there.”

“Beth,” you started.

She lifted a hand to silence you, glancing over your shoulder at Joel.

“Can you jump in the car real quick? I need to talk to my sister alone.”

Beth tossed her keys to Joel, waiting until the back door shut before she glared at you.

“Does he know?” She questioned.

“Of course, he doesn’t know,” you argued.

She scoffed, folding her arms.

“Considering everything going on, you didn’t think to mention it to him?”

“Sorry, I’ve been a little busy getting my ass out here as fast as possible. It didn’t register in my mind to share the sad details of my accident with him.”

“You need to tell him, sis.”

“This isn’t the fucking time to do it!” You snapped.

Beth rolled her eyes, her lips pursed for another attack.

“It’s going to come out sooner or later. You know that, right? He’s not going to run away if you tell him.”

“Bennett did, so why is he any different?”

“Stop comparing him to Bennett!” She yelled. “He’s nothing like him, and if you seriously think that, then you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t say that,” you mumbled.

“What? The truth? Because the truth is that you are a fucking idiot. And on top of that, you’re a coward.”

“Fuck you,” you spat.

Beth laughed. She actually laughed. Rounding the car, she left you standing teary-eyed and frustrated.

“Get in the fucking car,” she shouted. “We’re wasting time.”

You hauled yourself into the front seat, keeping your eyes out of the window and avoiding the heavy truth sitting between you, Beth, and Joel. If any one of them told him about your past, you’d kill them. It was yours to share whenever you were ready.

Beth drove like a bat out of hell to Mass General. No one said anything the entire drive, and you were grateful for it. After the blowup between you and Beth, you had no more energy left to fight. You just hoped you’d be able to reel in the anger with Joel; he didn’t deserve it.

Mass General loomed above the rain clouds settling over the city. Joel and Beth had already exited the car while you sat inside its warmth, your eyes stuck on the Emergency sign at the front of the hospital. Joel tapped on the window, stirring you from the numbing sensation rolling through your body. You didn’t even flinch at the sound of his knuckles on the glass. Joel cracked the door open, pulling it wide enough to fit his broad between the metal and your shaking body.

“C’mon baby,” he urged, offering his hand. “I know y’can do this. I’m right here with you, okay?”

“I can’t,” you whined.

Joel crouched slightly, leveling you with soft brown eyes, a curl drifting over his forehead. You wished you were both in bed, curled under the covers and far away from Boston. You wanted his soft hair between your fingers and his stubble ticking your skin. But no, you were here in Boston, with a rain cloud hanging in the sky and your father unconscious in a hospital bed.

“Look at me,” Joel breathed.

You wanted to look anywhere but at him. If he looked at you any longer, you’d shatter completely. He cautioned your name, coaxing you from your hesitation. His strong hands cupped your cheeks, holding you firm as he kept your focus on his eyes.

“I’m right here,” he repeated. “Ain’t gonna leave your side no matter what. Y’understand? Whatever happens, I’m right here.”

You chewed on your lip to keep the sobs from escaping. It was surprising you had anything left to cry; all you did was cry… and cry… and cry.

“I can’t go in there, Joel. You don’t—you don’t understand.”

“Help me understand,” he pleaded.

“Go without me. I’ll wait outside, okay?”

“Baby,” he groaned. “Beth will have my ass if I don’t get you inside.”

You scoffed, ripping his hands from your face.

“You speak a few words to her and suddenly know how she’s gonna react?” You glared. “You both acted so fucking weird in the airport and now you’re taking her side?”

Joel straightened to his full height, the shadow of his body blanketing you. You were pushing him away; you knew it, and so did he. You just needed to nudge him a bit more, and he’d run. You’d be alone again and spare yourself the humiliation and heartbreak.

“I ain’t takin’ sides,” he argued. “I’m bein’ realistic. I saw the way she went at you back there. I’m not ‘bout to get the same treatment for leavin’ you behind.”

“Just go!” You yelled. You shoved at his chest, forcing him back into the door.

He didn’t respond in anger like you expected. He did the opposite, pulling you towards him and into a desperate kiss. You tried to push him off—tried to fight it— but he only held you tighter.

“Keep fightin’ me, baby,” he said against your mouth. “I’m only gonna fight back.”

“I hate you,” you cried. “I hate you.”

But you didn’t stop kissing him. You gripped the wild curls at the base of his neck, pinning him to your lips as you sobbed through every slant of his mouth.

“Why won’t you leave?” You cried, the words muffled as his tongue searched for yours. “Why, Joel?”

“I ain’t leavin’ you again, baby,” he murmured. “I can’t.”

Joel pulled away from your swollen lips, tears pooling in his eyes. You instantly felt remorse for treating him so badly. You wouldn’t do to him what Bennett did to you.

“Remember when I said this was real?” he asked. “Do you still believe that?”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears ran down your cheeks.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Then trust me when I say I’m never leavin’. Not now. Not ever.”

You inhaled a sharp breath and buried your head in your hands.

“Just give me a minute, okay?” You exhaled. “Catch up with Beth, and I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, echoing the words you spoke only a few weeks ago.

“You and your deals,” you grumbled, peeking out your fingers.

That garnered a slight grin from Joel, his lips curling upward.

“Take your breather, and I’ll wait by the back of the car. If y’wanna go in, we can go in together.”

You remained silent, hiccuping over another sob. Joel raised his brow, waiting for a response. Avoiding his eyes, you nodded, the Emergency sign taunting you from a distance. Joel leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead and abandoned you to retreat toward the back of the car.

You steadied your breathing, focusing on the slow inhale and exhale of the air within your lungs. It wasn’t you in that hospital bed; it was your dad. He didn’t sustain the same damage you had, and that’s all that mattered. Whatever the outcome, he was better off than you had ever been, and you needed to be grateful for it.

You let your legs move on their own accord as you took your spot beside Joel, his hand instantly grasping around yours. His touch grounded you in the moment, keeping you centered as your mind swam upstream through the rocky waves of the past. You had to stay strong. You had to prove you could do this.

The second your feet crossed through the sliding doors, all that strength collapsed. Joel hooked a strong arm around your back, bracing you to his side as he guided you into the waiting room. Your mom and Beth sat side by side in the worn-down seats, their faces grim and tired.

“Hey,” you said wearily.

Your mom's eyes snapped up, and she broke down at seeing you. She ran up to yank you from Joel’s grasp, smothering you into a tight hug.

“Oh, honey,” she cried. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“How’s dad?” You asked, speaking into her hair that wrapped around your face.

“Doctors haven’t given much of an update, but he’s alright. They’re taking him in for surgery in a few hours to help reset his hip.”

“And his head?” You faltered.

“There’s no serious damage,” she whispered.

You peered over her shoulder to where Beth sat, eyes meeting in a quiet understanding. There was still a tension running thick between you both, but those words from your mom were enough to soothe the surmounting anxiety inside you.

“Mom,” you sighed, tearing away from her embrace. “This is Joel.”

You motioned to Joel behind you, an eerie repeat of what had happened between him and Beth. Your mom stood frozen, her eyes widening as she stared at him. Joel cracked a welcoming smile, extending his hand out to her. No one moved, and his hand remained wavering in the stagnant air.

“Mom?” You pressed.

She shook her head and opened her arms to Joel, inviting him in for a hug. It was strange but not entirely unexpected, considering the circumstances.

“Hi, honey,” she said as she rocked Joel back and forth in the embrace.

“Hi, Mrs. Smith,” Joel replied. You caught on to the way his biceps flexed around her, squeezing her just as tightly as he would with you. He was comforting her, and something softened inside you.

Beth cleared her throat behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your mom released Joel and turned towards Beth.

“She should go up and see him,” Beth told your mom.

“She is right here,” you snapped.

“Oh, now she wants to listen to me,” Beth snorted.

“Both of you!” Your mom shouted. “Enough!”

You shrunk away, folding yourself into Joel’s warm frame. The press of his body against yours quelled the anger rising back up, and you kept focus on his hands rubbing over your arms to keep from lashing out. Beth was pushing, and you knew exactly why.

“Listen, Beth, stay here and chill out,” your mom started. She glanced back at you and Joel before continuing. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll take you to see him.”

You followed your mom up to the ICU, your eyes shifting from one room to another. The repetition of machines beeping and murmurs of nurses through the hall slammed into your head like a hammer, and you found yourself clinging to Joel, twisting his cotton shirt until it stretched between your fingers.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel crooned. “I got you. Ain’t lettin’ you go.”

Mom guided you to the room where Stella was perched on a chair beside the bed. You averted your eyes from your dad, refusing to look. Stella turned to see you walk in and immediately sprinted into your arms, sobbing into your chest.

“I know. I know,” you cried.

“I was so scared it was going to happen again, sis,” she muttered.

“They said he was okay, right? It’s not going to happen to him,” you assured.

“But what if it does? What if he wakes up and doesn’t remember—.”

“Don’t,” you interjected. “Don’t say it.”

She peeled herself from you and wiped away her tears. Joel stepped forward, his hand pressed to your lower back, as he made his way to introduce himself.

“I’m Joel,” he smiled, extending his hand.

Stella flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling into his chest. Your mom watched them with a knowing look, something you couldn’t discern.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she sighed.

Weird. You only really talked to Beth about Joel and didn’t expect her to share it with anyone except your mom.

Joel rubbed her shoulders gently, then pulled away.

“Likewise, Stell.”

Stell. You didn’t recall calling her that in front of Joel; that nickname was reserved for you and only you. Your head was pounding, and the nagging feeling that you were losing grip on reality was slowly settling in. You worked so hard to remember everything; it wouldn’t happen again. Not now.

“You okay, sweetie?” Your mom cautioned, stepping beside you.

Her voice roused you from your confusion, and you made the mistake of looking at your dad for the first time. He looked so much smaller, lying in the hospital bed: a breathing tube situated under his nose and IVs running through the bend of his arm. Oh God, and his face. Both of his eyes were rimmed in dark bruises, and a thick layer of bandages was wrapped over his forehead. Was that how you looked all those years ago? Your stomach churned with nausea the longer you looked at him. The whirring of the machines in the room dizzied you, and you felt your body swaying in place. Joel quickly steadied you, his arms coming around your front to lock you into a tight hold.

“You’re okay, baby,” he murmured into your ear.

“Do you want to be alone with him, sweetie?” Your mom asked.

“Please,” you said, nodding.

Joel kissed the crown of your head before following your mom and Stella out into the hall. You glanced over your shoulder to see them all huddled together, the cracked blinds inside the room obstructing your view of what they were saying. You’d ask Joel about it later.

Turning back to your dad, you let the real tears fall. The ugly, gut-wrenching ones you had held back for so long. Tears that weren’t just for him, but for you as well. No one in your family knew the fear and pain that came with a head injury. No one could understand you—not even Bennett, despite everything he tried to say and do. You were alone in its entirety, but you’d be damned if your dad dealt with the same.

Cradling his hand in yours, you drew circles over his calloused skin with your thumb. You didn’t have words to express your pain, so you sat in silence. The constant repetition of machinery beeping throbbed through the recesses of your brain, a migraine looming on the horizon. You’d suffer with it later, but it would be worth it just to stay in this moment a few seconds longer.

“I love you, dad,” you whispered.

You didn’t know if he could hear you, but you hoped he did.

You remained silent for a few more minutes and glanced at the clock above the bed. 3: 13 AM. You hadn’t realized how much of the day had drained away, and the fatigue in your body was settling in rapidly. You wanted to lie down and wake up when everything was better, but it all came with time. And you hated that. You hated time and things it had stolen from you.

A light rap on the door startled you from your silent cocoon, and you turned to see Joel peeking in through the window. You motioned him to come in, and he bent beside the bed, his hand resting on your thigh.

“How ya’ doin’, baby?” He asked softly.

“I’m tired,” you lamented.

He smoothed his hand over your legs, the warmth of his touch radiating through your body. You leaned into his touch, letting your head rest on his.

“I’m gonna ask Beth if we can take the car and go home,” you said. “I can’t be here anymore, and I need sleep.”

“We can do that. Your mom said they’re gonna take him for surgery in a few, anyway. No point stickin’ around if we’d just be waitin’.”

“When he’s out of surgery, they can call me, and we can come back.”

“Sounds like a plan, baby. Let’s get you home.”

Joel offered to drive Beth’s car back to the house. You sat beside him, your head propped in your hand, watching as he drove through the city streets. Even cast in the late night sky, he was so handsome. The rich tan color of his skin seemed to be illuminated by the moonlight glinting through the windshield, his brown eyes softer than you’d ever seen. There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his lips, but he still looked so kind and so loving. Joel glanced over at you as the car slowed in front of the red light.

“What’s that look for?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m just really thankful you’re here,” you exhaled. “I’m sorry you had to see me so angry earlier. It wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you.”

Joel leaned over the dash to pull you in for a soft, fleeting kiss.

“There’s a lot happenin’ right now, baby. Be angry all y’want. I can take it,” he said.

You chewed on your lip and nodded, turning your attention back to the street as the light turned green. Joel drove in silence the rest of the way to your parent's house, guiding him quietly with directions every few turns. Even though it had only been a few weeks since you were last home, the streets were scattered with yellow and orange leaves, autumn settling over the neighborhood. The car's tires flattened over them as Joel slowed to the front of the house and killed the engine.

“This where y’grew up?” Joel asked, tilting his head toward the house.

You nodded, but your eyes were glued to the porch. The ladder was still lying on the ground; the metal pressed into the cold grass of the front lawn. Joel must’ve picked up on your fixation and sighed.

“I’ll go pick it up, baby. Why don’t you grab your bag and head in, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” But your eyes didn’t stray from the ladder.

You watched Joel reach the ladder, his body a beacon under the moonlight. His tall figure moved against the cover of the night sky, working quickly to move it off to the side of the house. You took an extra moment to collect yourself before gathering your bags and meeting him on the porch. Joel took them immediately from your hands as you guided him into the house. You’d give him a tour of it tomorrow; you just wanted to curl under the covers of your bed and waste away.

When you opened the door to your bedroom, Joel gave a low whistle, glancing around at the artifacts of your childhood. Miscellaneous pictures of you and your sisters hung on the walls, along with a collection of CDs stacked on the floor in one corner and a reading nook built into the windowsill. The dated white armoire was nestled against the wall beside your vanity, and the large queen bed sat untouched and nicely made with its white comforter and grey pillows.

“Nice lil’ room y’got here, baby,” Joel chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” you shrugged.

You dumped your bag on the ground, collapsing backward until your back hit the bed with a soft thud. Joel followed your lead, and you both lay there silently, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun in circles. It was tempting just to succumb to sleep right in that moment, but you knew you needed a shower to wash off the lingering stress of the day.

“Come shower with me?” You asked, glancing over at Joel.

“Of course.”

The heat of the shower pelted your skin as Joel rubbed a loufa into your back muscles, working out the knots that had materialized through the long day. You basked in the warmth of his body pressed into yours, your head falling back against his muscular chest and eyes drifting shut. His tender touch helped alleviate the pressure building in your head, and you prayed that the migraine would subside soon enough.

“Doin’ okay, baby?” He asked, his mouth pressing into the side of your neck.

You hummed at his lips on your skin, bringing your arm up to wrap around the back of his neck. His fingers drifted over the curves of your body, squeezing your hips softly before trailing between your legs.

“Can I?”

“Mhmm,” you sighed, shifting your body slightly so that he could explore further.

His hand dipped between your legs, your arousal already pooling at your entrance. He was slow with his touch, each graze of his fingers over your sensitive bud eliciting a soft moan from your lips. Joel’s mouth roamed over the expanse of your neck as he continued to draw circles over your throbbing clit. Your fingers tugged at his wet curls, urging him closer. The blood coursing through your veins thrummed with pleasure as he teased the build-up of your release.

“You’re beautiful, baby. Y’know that?” He whispered in your ear.

Maybe it was the gentle touch of his fingers or his words swimming through your mind, but your climax shattered you into pieces in record time. Your thighs clenched tight around his hand as you let out a soft cry.

“That’s it,” he crooned. “Let go, baby.”

You slumped against his body, your heart settling back into a normal rhythm. Joel held you close, wrapping his arms around your front and swaying you under the spray of the water. Your eyes grew heavy the longer you remained in his embrace, so you decided to cut the water and drag him out and into bed.

Under the security of your comforter, you clung to Joel and buried your head into the crook of his arm. He traced circles over your bare arm, letting you lay quietly against him. The familiar pressure of a migraine began forming in your mind, the pounding ache settling behind your eyes. You squeezed your eyes tighter, curling yourself up into his body in hopes it would fade away as you slept.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked, noticing the tension paralyzing your muscles.

“Migraine,” you choked out.

“What do y’need? I can go get it.”

“No, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just stay here. Please.”

“These happen often?”

“Not in a while.” You couldn’t find the strength to form complete sentences, so the words came out choppy and pained.

“Will sleep help?”

“I hope,” you muttered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

Joel’s arms tightened around your body, anchoring you to his side as he hummed softly into your hair. Pain pulsated through your head as you forced yourself to fall asleep, your limbs shaking as they wrapped around his torso.

All you wanted was for the pain to go away.

A few hours later, the morning light dancing through the window stirred you awake. The residual aching pain in your head still lingered, but it was far more manageable than it had been before you fell asleep. Joel snored softly beside you, and you took the chance to watch him as he slept peacefully beside you. The creases in his skin were softened in his slumber, his face relaxed and calm. His lips were parted slightly, the bottom one plush and pouty and tempting to kiss. You nestled into his body, your mouth roaming over his scruffy jaw and eventually reaching his lips. The strange urge to say I love you nearly tumbled out of your mouth as you kissed him, but you swallowed it and saved it away. It was the first time you thought those three little words in the space with someone other than Bennett. Knowing Joel was digging closer to your heart, breaking down every barrier and wall, it was still frightening. But if this sudden trip had taught you anything, he was right; this was real. You weren’t ready to confess those words, but in time you would.

Just not now.

Joel roused himself from sleep, groaning softly as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss.

“Mornin’, baby. How’s your head feelin’?”

“Better,” you sighed.

“Ready to go back to the hospital?”

You groaned, shoving your head under the comforter.

“I hate it there.”

He squeezed your side, urging you back up to the surface. Your eyes connected with his, the morning light coloring his eyes a rich shade of amber. Flecks of gold scattered through his irises, blending into the rich chocolate brown you were drawn to.

“Why do y’hate it so much?” He wondered.

“I—I just don’t have good memories of it.”

“Y’wanna talk to me ‘bout it?”

You rolled onto your back, closing your eyes as the memories waded through the headache still swimming in your head.

“Bennett, there’s a chance this could actually work,” you begged.

“I’m not risking it. What if it doesn’t work and things get worse?” He argued. “Isn’t it easier to just move forward?”

You rubbed circles into your temples, trying to soften the onset migraine surging to the surface. All this arguing was making you nauseous and tired. Why wouldn’t Bennett be on your side about this? Why wasn’t he agreeing with you?

“I want to remember,” you lamented. “I want those two years back.”

“The doctors said it’ll take time. Why isn’t that enough?” Bennett sighed, crouching down to meet you at eye level.

“You don’t understand, Bennett.”

“I’m trying,” he snapped.

It was the first time you’d experienced his anger in such a way. He wasn’t taking your side, and he wasn’t even listening to your requests. You could only nod and cave to his arguments; he was the one holding the power now. You had to trust him.

Situating yourself against the headboard, you inhaled sharply and glanced at Joel.

“I might as well tell you since everyone is on my case about it,” you groaned.

“Only if you wanna, baby. I ain’t gonna force you,” Joel sighed, looking up at you.

Giving yourself a moment to gather your thoughts, you dove into the story.

“I was in an accident when I was twenty-two, or I guess twenty-four. The last thing I remember was being twenty-two and just moving to Austin with Bennett. We had just moved into our apartment, and I was about to start substitute teaching while finishing my Master's degree. Everything was great. Then, I got in an accident on the way home from school, and the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital.

“I guess in the crash, my head hit the dashboard hard enough to cause serious damage to my brain. They—the doctors, told me I had sustained enough trauma to cause retrograde amnesia. I woke up thinking I was still twenty-two, Joel. I lost two years of my life. I couldn’t remember a single thing.”

“Oh, baby. I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” he whispered, propping himself on his elbows.

“Bennett tried to fill me in on pieces of it, but trying to remember did more damage than anything,” you continued. “I had migraines all the time. I could barely function for the first couple of months, and that’s when my parents talked me into coming back here. To Mass General. They ran so many tests on me and tried to find solutions, but there was no hope. Bennett was adamant about not causing any more damage to my brain, so I just gave up,” you explained.

“You gave up tryin’ to remember?” He asked, pulling himself up to sit beside you. There was a deep furrow between his brows and a noticeable shift in his body language. Everything was tense, from his jaw to how his fists clenched together.

“Yeah. I trusted Bennett with the memories I no longer had and knew he would take care of me. Or at least, I hoped he would. The doctors suggested I stay in Boston to go through psychotherapy to help try and piece together those memories, but Bennett was against it. It caused a huge riff in my family since they wanted me to stay and get help.”

“He kept you from rememberin’ things,” Joel frowned.

You nodded, digging your knuckles into your eyes to try and push away the pressure building behind them again.

“We were here for almost two months, just constantly going in and out of the hospital. I’d have these debilitating migraines that would lead to fainting spells, so I was always back at the emergency room for more testing. The outcome was always the same, though. I felt so defeated every time like it was my fault,” you confessed.

Joel laid a hand on your thigh, smoothing over your skin as you tried to drag in a lungful of air.

“It ain’t your fault though, baby,” he assured.

“I should have advocated for myself more. I just did whatever Bennett said because he knew things I couldn’t remember. He even proposed here. He made this big, long speech about how he never wanted to face the fear of losing me again, and I went with it because I loved him. I loved him enough to do whatever he said because I owed it to him.”

“You were tryna heal from everythin’,” he offered, trying to make sense of it all. “It’s not your fault for what happened after.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes.

“But it is,” you argued. “It’s my fault Bennett left. If I thought our fights before the crash were bad… It only got worse. We moved out of our apartment and got this big house. We decided to speed through our engagement for the sake of my fucking memory. All the while, Bennett just started to get angrier and angrier. I was trying so hard to remember things, and he just started to remember less. He was always fighting with me over every little thing. He barely touched me or looked at me. For fuck sake, he wouldn’t even sleep in the same bed as me! It’s like he didn’t want me to have those memories back, and I just—I don’t understand why.”

Joel pulled your head into his hands, his eyes darkening as he stared at you. His thumbs rubbed over your cheekbones in an attempt to calm your rambling. You wanted to flinch away from his touch, but he only held you tighter.

“None of this is your fault,” he emphasized.

“It is, though,” you sniffled. The tears were ready to slip at any moment. “He wanted the girl I was before the crash, and I was so hell-bent on trying to fix my memory that I stopped being that version of myself. I couldn’t be what he wanted, so he left. I wasn’t enough, Joel. I couldn’t fight for him to stay because he didn’t want me. I—I’m so fucked up, Joel.”

Joel’s nostrils flared, a wash of anger clouding his eyes. But you knew it wasn’t anger toward you. It was toward Bennett.

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” he snapped. “You’re not fucked up. Bennett was an asshole, and I swear I’d kill him if I could.”

“That’s not funny,” you deadpanned.

“It wasn’t meant to be funny, baby. I’m serious. Ain’t no way y’went through hell and back for him to do that to you. Y’didn’t get the time to heal because you were so focused on tryin’ to make him happy, and he didn’t deserve you. You know that, right? None of this is your fault.”

You shrugged off his hands and scooted out of the warmth of the bed. Digging through your bag, you pulled out a change of clothes, carelessly throwing an outfit together while Joel sat motionless on the bed.

“Baby,” Joel pleaded. “Stop for a minute, ‘kay? Are you listenin’ to me?”

He threw back the covers and strode to where you stood, your arms halfway into a sweater. He helped tug it the rest of the way, settling it over your body before reeling you in for a long kiss. It was his weapon for shutting you up, and he was really fucking good at using it. You dragged yourself away from his mouth, staggering back until there was enough distance between you and him.

“I should have fucking listened to everyone,” you heaved. “I should have fucking stayed in Boston, but I wanted to prove I could do it. I wanted to prove I could continue living with this fucked up part of myself.”

Joel cautioned your name, and you took another step back.

“Look at me, Joel!” You laughed. “I’m fucked up! I still can’t remember a damn fucking thing, and being here is only a brutal reminder of that. I lost so much of myself because of that accident. And I swear to God, if I lose my dad, too. I—I can’t…”

Your knees hit the ground before it even registered in your mind. Joel was quick to drop to the floor in front of you, pulling you into his lap as the sobs wracked through your body. You rocked yourself back and forth as Joel’s arms wound into a vice around your chest. He hushed you softly as you audibly cried loud enough to echo around the room.

“You aren’t gonna lose him,” Joel whispered in your ear.

“What if—.” You choked on another cry.

“Breathe with me, baby. Just breathe. C’mon.”

Joel inhaled loudly, coaxing you to do the same. You followed his lead, exhaling when he instructed to. You both repeated it a few more times until you felt the surge of emotions slow.

“That’s it, baby,” he sighed. “I’m right here with you. Everythin’ is gonna be okay.”

You burrowed your head into his chest, your tears dampening his bare chest. How was he not running away from you? You laid all your damaged pieces out, and he still had his arms around you. You didn’t deserve it. You couldn’t make sense of it.

“What do y’say we get back to the hospital?” Joel offered after a moment. “We can check in and see how the surgery went. It’ll give you some peace of mind.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced.

Joel helped you to your feet, and you both finished changing in silence. You grabbed your purse and followed Joel to the car, and you both returned to Mass General.

“He’s fine, honey,” your mom said, giving you a weak smile.

You were all crowded in the hospital room surrounding your dad as he lay unconscious on the bed.

“The doctors say he’s going to make a full recovery,” she continued. “They’re going to slow the sedative down, and hopefully, he’ll be waking up in the next day or so.”

Beth and Stella stood close together, Stella’s head resting on Beth’s shoulder. Their expressions were painted with relief, and you felt your muscles loosen at the news.

“So, we just wait?” You asked.

“We will wait,” your mom corrected. “You and Joel should go back to Austin. There’s no point sticking around now that we know he’s alright.”

You turned to stare at her, your lips twisting into a scowl.

“I am not leaving until he wakes up,” you argued.

“We’ll call right when he wakes up,” she offered. “I know being here is hard for you, honey. And you’ve got a job that needs you.”

“Mom!” You shouted. It was loud enough to startle everyone. “I’m not leaving.”

“She’s right, baby,” Joel chimed in. “He’s gonna be okay.”

“I want to stay.”

“Look, let’s make a deal. We stay another day and then go home, okay?”

You glanced between everyone in the room, finally settling your eyes on your dad, still unconscious in the bed. Everyone was right, but you didn’t want to leave yet. You weren’t ready. Even if being here felt like hell.

“One more day,” you agreed.

You remained at the hospital most of the day, shifting between the waiting room and your dad’s room. Everyone took turns visiting him and meeting with doctors, and Joel stayed at your side every minute. Stella took a liking to him most out of everyone, spending a good majority of the time talking his ear off about Sarah. Seeing Joel engage with her as he did was endearing as if they knew each other and were old friends catching up. He treated everyone in your family so kindly that it was hard to continue shoving down those three little words. You wanted to say them more than ever…but weren’t sure when you’d feel ready.

Eventually, the day faded into night, and your mom urged everyone to go home while she insisted on staying. You didn’t know when she had slept last, but she was adamant about staying with your dad. Beth drove you all home, humming some song that floated through the radio. As the house came into view, she dialed down the volume and turned toward the backseat.

“Joel, Stella, will you guys head in while I talk to sis?” Beth asked as she parked the car.

You gave her a confused stare as they filed out and walked up the driveway toward the house.

“Did you tell him?” She asked, turning to look at you.

Her eyes were dark with heavy circles, and her lips stuck in a straight line.

“I did,” you nodded.

“What did he say?”

“He just sympathized with me. There’s not much else to say,” you shrugged.

“That’s it?” She pressed, her brows scrunching together.

You scoffed, glancing out the side window.

“What did you want him to say, Beth? There isn’t much to say when you tell someone your memory is all fucked up.”

“I just figured he’d say more,” she offered.

“Like what?” You snapped. “Nothing he says is going to magically make it better.”

“I know, I know. I just thought he’d say more.”

You stared at her, the tiredness creeping into your bones. You didn’t want to argue anymore, not about this or anything.

“Can we just go in? I’m tired,” you said.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Beth and Stella offered to make dinner that night, all four of you quietly eating in heavy silence as the evening drifted later. Once dinner was all said and done, you and Joel retired to your room, curling up under the covers once again. You tangled your legs between his and kissed up his chest and under his jaw.

“Baby,” he warned. “The girls are right down the hall. Don’t be doin’ that.”

“Why?” You questioned, continuing the path up his cheek and to his lips.

Joel captured your mouth in a hungry kiss, his hands tangling in your hair. You moaned softly as the kiss depended, his hands roaming over your body.

“I want you, Joel,” you whispered against his mouth.

“Baby, we can’t,” he groaned. But he didn’t stop kissing you.

He rolled his body over yours, pinning you to the bed as his hand slid under your pajama bottoms. You bucked into his hand, searching for a fleeting touch to quell the ache growing between your thighs. Joel responded to your desperation, slipping a finger between your slick folds.

“I’ll be quiet,” you promised. “Just keep kissing me.”

Joel relented to your pleas, locking his mouth with yours again. He added another finger, plunging them inside you as you cried out at the pressure. His teeth quickly bit down on your bottom lip, a silent demand to keep your voice down.

“Sorry,” you exhaled.

“Be good for me, baby,” he whispered.

His fingers abandoned you, but it was barely a moment of loss before he sank his cock into you. You used all your strength to hold back a groan of relief as the slight sting of your body stretching to him faded into bliss. Joel kept his hands tangled in your hair as he rocked into you, your bodies moving in unison as he drove himself deeper with each thrust.

“Joel…” You whimpered against his mouth.

“Stay quiet, baby.”

His mouth roamed down the column of your throat, sucking gently at your skin as he reached one arm down to hook around the back of your knee. The change in position only sent his cock deeper inside you, your core clenching around him with every drive of his hips.

“It feels so good,” you panted, rolling your hips. “I’m so close, Joel. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” he hummed. “Cum for me, baby.”

His hips snapped harder against you, and you bit back another cry of pleasure. Your body thrummed with the need for release, the waves crashing inside you growing stronger. Just a little more… a little more. Joel’s other hand snaked between your bodies, his fingers brushing over your clit. You arched into his touch and ground your nails into the skin of his biceps.

“Joel,” you choked.

The orgasm exploded through you, fogging your vision as your core pulsated around his cock. Joel let out a strangled groan and tumbled over the edge with you, his release filling you only seconds later.

Joel collapsed against your body, his cock slipping out of you as it softened. You welcomed the weight of him, letting his skin meld into yours. I love you. It was just a breath from escaping your lips, but you kept it shoved down.

Another time, you told yourself.

“Can I sleep like this?” Joel chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Whatever you want, handsome,” you giggled.

He peered up at you, a grin curving over his face.

“There’s that word again,” he smirked.

“Oh, shut up. You like it.”

“I really fuckin’ do.”

You bent your neck to kiss his forehead before settling back against the pillow. It was easier to sleep like this, knowing you’d have him in your arms when you woke up. It made everything inside you hurt less.

After an extra day at the hospital, nothing new had progressed with your dad. Your mom assured you that she would call if she had any news of him waking up, so you and Joel said your goodbyes and made the trip back to Austin.

Nothing had changed in Austin, not that you were expecting it to. Joel returned home after spending an extra few hours under your bed sheets with you, groaning about not wanting to leave. You urged him to go, knowing Sarah was probably missing him. That first night home alone was the hardest; the nightmares continued again now that you had no distractions. The migraine had returned at full throttle when you woke up the next morning, and you had to make an extra effort to pull yourself from bed and dress for work. Not a single cell in your body wanted to return to a classroom full of loud kids, but you had missed enough days and needed to make up for lost time.

Maria was the first to drill you with questions as you arrived at the school.

“Is everything okay? I asked around and only heard that it was a family emergency.”

You shuffled into your classroom, Maria hot on your heels. You could barely stand the stream of light coming through the windows, let alone the sound of her voice.

“My dad had an accident, that’s all,” you assured. “Everything is okay.”

“Oh, thank God he’s okay.” She flung her arms around you, giving you a suffocating hug.

You peeled away from her, steadying your body against the corner of your desk.

“I’ll tell you more later, okay? I just need to prep for classes before the first bell.”

“I’ll check in on you later,” she announced before leaving.

The day moved on slowly, and before you knew it, your final class was over. As the students filed out, you started gathering your things but noticed Sarah lingered behind.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” You asked as she approached your desk.

“Um, kinda?” She gave you a sheepish look. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course, sweetheart. What’s going on?”

She shifted her weight between her legs, her hazel eyes on the floor.

“Are you dating my dad?”

Your breath stalled, and you were unsure of what to say or do. Was it appropriate to lie? You and Joel hadn’t discussed the possibility of her finding out much and now was definitely not the time.

“Why do you ask?” You were deflecting.

“I overheard him talking to my Uncle Tommy last night,” she explained.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and blood rushed through your ears. God, what had they said? What did she hear?

“Go on,” you insisted, your voice unsteady.

“My dad told Uncle Tommy he loved you.”

At that moment, her hazel eyes met yours, and everything came crashing down. You tripped over your words and found yourself gripping the desk.

“Miss Smith?” Sarah cautioned.

“I’m sure your dad was talking about someone else,” you lied. “Why don’t you head home? I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She looked at you with confusion written all over her face but eventually followed your request and left you in an empty room.

You sank into your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose. You knew Joel’s feelings were there for you, but you didn’t want to hear it from Sarah. You wanted to hear it from him. Searching for your purse, you found your phone and dialed his number with shaking hands.

He answered immediately.

“Did y’hear from your mom?” He asked in a rush.

“No, it’s not that. Can you—” You steadied your breathing. “Can you just meet me at my house?”

“Of course, is everythin’ okay? You’re worryin’ me.”

“I’m fine, Joel. I’ll see you there in a few.”

You hung up before he could say anymore and be-lined for your car. You drove home on autopilot, the words jumbling together in your head.

I think he’s already falling in love with you.

My dad told Uncle Tommy he loved you.

Over and over again, Beth and Sarah’s voices played on a loop. You turned onto your street and blinked back tears. You weren’t ready to face this. What were you going to say? What would Joel say? What would—

You slammed on your brakes right before you got to your house.

Joel’s truck wasn’t there.

But Bennett’s car was.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x teacher!f!reader #joel miller #tlou #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfic #pre outbreak!joel #angst angst angst #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou

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qaxqxd · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 4

♡: Marc Spector x f!reader

Genre: Smut/fluff

Warning: smut, overstimulating, some somnophilia (with consent ofc), little bit of cock warming, oral 69, British slang, mention of Steven and Jake, aftercare <3

Word Count: 0.9k

A/n: MY BELOVED MOON KNIGHT 🫶

Summary: After a long day the boys come home seeing that you couldn't sleep, he helps you.

It was midnight, and they were still not home. You should have gone to sleep but you just weren't able to.

Ever since you met them. Marc and his other alters, you love very much. It's been different. You couldn't sleep alone anymore.

All the night you sleep with him, huddle up close. The warmth you missed. Missed too much to the point you couldn't sleep without him.

You knew he was working doing his duty and he had the suit. The suit of Khonshu's avatar. The Egypt God of the moon.

So there wouldn't be a way he would badly get hurt or die.

But still you couldn't help but worry. All the missions he has to go through, and all the sinful lives he has to get rid off.

You knew it was for the greater good, but if the greater good was months of no sleep, you would have preferred the greater evil.

And God your body was exhausted but you couldn't sleep. It's just been like that for a few weeks.

You sat on the couch watching TV to kill time. There wasn't anything great on the channel, or maybe because it was midnight.

You just finished a shower, so you threw a t-shirt and underwear on. Since you were too lazy to actually put on pants.

Jake sent a message a while ago, saying that they were gonna come home. A while ago was a day ago.

Not too long, but he has been gone for a good three months.

Click.

You looked over to the front door. There was a crack light and a figure, shaped like your boyfriend.

You didn't know who fronted, but you were too tired to find out.

"Luv?" A sweet British accent was heard. It was Steven, nonetheless. "You're not asleep yet?"

"Nope… Was waiting for you guys." You laid your head on him, you mumbled. "Can't sleep, luv?" Steven kissed your forehead, he held you.

"Nuh uh." You spoke. Steven giggled, "s'that my shirt innit?" He dug his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

You felt a change of grip. That's when you realized Marc fronted. His hold on you tightens.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting hun." He mumble, pecking you on the lips. That peck turns into a lustful kiss.

Marc laid you down on the couch, his legs in-between yours.

"I'll help you fall asleep to make it up, okay?" He softly whispers to you. You nodded. "Just lemme do it for you."

His kiss trailed down to your thigh. He smirks, realizing you were just in your underwear. He rubs his thumb over the wet spot you had.

You let out a small whimper. He slips off your underwear smoothly. You were wet already under his touch.

He lifted your thigh seeing your wet cunt, he stuck two fingers into your puffed cunt. You let out a lustful moan.

Marc knew you and your sensitive spots. He'd pump his fingers into your small cunt, along with rubbing your clit.

He got you to climax all over his fingers. You rode his fingers to ease your orgasm. Your back arched as you rolled your eyes back into your skull.

Marc chuckled, "Feelin' Good, m?" He kissed your thigh, tracing down to your cunt. You felt his tongue carve into you.

You look down at your cunt. Seeing his eyes connect to yours. He looked hungry, but was willing to share his pleasure.

He knew you too well, all the spot that pleased you the most. His tongue flicked in and out.

You were building up to your second orgasm, as his tongue grinds against you. Your body was exhausted already but it still held on.

As you quickly arrive at your second orgasm. Marc pulled out after, and you heard shuffling around his belt.

Before you felt a warm heat inserted through your slit. You felt a hard cock penetrate you. He slipped in easily to how wet you were.

Your aroused built up, but the body exhaustion wasn't too happy. You closed your eyes.

Marc asked, "Are you tired?" You nodded, "Uh huh… you could continue…" you drift to your slumber.

Marc smiled at you, he kissed your forehead.

He got in positions and started slowly pounding your cunt. You let out moans for every thrust.

Marc let out a string of curses, "Baby, you're so tight." He whispered, knowing you couldn't hear him.

He felt your orgasm, as your pussy squeezed around him. You were so sensitive In your sleep. You moaned.

He carried you to bed to continue.

Marc thrust into you until he got to his orgasm. He pulled out emptying his seed onto you. He thrust back in.

Nesting his cock into your cunt, spooning you. He laid right beside you, and slept.

He was too tired for this.

Jake on the other hand, wanted to clean you up. He fronted and got up.

He ran a bath for you, picking up your fragile and exhausted body. He also goes into the bath.

He brushed your hair out and washed your body as well as his own.

Once he finished cleaning you up, he dressed you in comfortable clothes, and placed you down in your bed gently.

Jake wraps his arms around you, holding you in a tight hug.

#moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #moon knight #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x you #jake lockely smut #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #mr knight

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bareee · 13 days

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Midnight question from the banished veteran

(got this one to rhythm too mehehehe)

Part five of Midnight questions

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Ya can’t tell me a boy banished at 17 by his own father didn’t feel like the loneliest failure in the world in that moment. Mark would know that feelin all too well himself, and I in the beginnin of this game with Shadowheart’s memory things and pain stuff, I would be curious how she’d feel hearin those pains like this.

( just wanna draw her more~ shhh)

Also cause its so damn deserved, BLESS YA @krembruleed for your wyll ref sheet(and all the others) cause it saved me on wylls horns with how much I tossed this boy around in this one. If anyone need help figurin these goofball out, go check em out and bless them for their life savin abilities XD just thank you~

The first one to have Mark in it just cause no one else fit the banished conversation better, usually wanted to keep the midnight questions for the companions only but oh wells. He snuck in

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #mark #bg3 Mark #wyll #bg3 wyll #wyll fanart #wyll ravengard #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart fanart #shadowheart

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1987vampire · 2 years

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Comfort for Nightmares | Poly!Proxies

Fandom: Creepypasta / Marble hornets Word Count: 724 Warnings: none, just panicking from a nightmare Request: Anonymous asked: So I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but I’ve been having problems sleeping, like I can’t sleep longer than a hour without waking up trembling from nightmares I can’t remember, literally frozen like sleep paralysis but I’m wide awake frozen in fear of something not there. The poly proxies are normally what I use to calm down, so could I request how hoodie or Brian, masky or Tim, and Toby (together, or separate) would react to their partner going through this A/N: This is short, but I really wanted to do a lil smth for this because funnily enough I have this exact same fucking issue and use them to cope as well, so here's one for you. Tim's zonked the fuck out in it, but I'd be more than willing to do another one if wanted. I think it'd be a cute lil series of midnight vibing. Anyways, here you go, I hope things get better shawty frfr Extra: Cashtag: $orpheus89 if anyone's feelin a lil crazy

Not again.

That was the first thought on your mind as your eyes shot up, slowly adjusting to the dark. Your chest burned, ragged breaths escaping your lips, and tears were gathering in your eyes. A deep fear crept over you, eyes darting around the room to what you could see while your body stayed put, afraid.

Why was it always like this? Fuck. You had tried medicine, meditation, teas, and herbal remedies, but nothing ever seemed to work. Here you were again, curled up in the dark, scared, the distant feeling of a nightmare already settled on your back.

It was your name mumbled sleepily that broke your trance. You still couldn’t move, but that voice, you recognized that voice.

“y/n.”

There it was again, this time followed by an arm wrapped around your waist and a face pressed to the back of your neck. You had almost completely forgotten that the others had fallen asleep around you. Brian’s mustache tickled your neck as he seemed to realize the situation, a hand clasping around yours, intertwining your fingers, his palm warm against the back of your hand.

“You’re shaking,” he mumbled. He wasn’t wrong, you could feel the tremors running through your body, forcing your hands to shake like a storm.

You whimpered involuntarily. God, why were you still frozen? You stared into the dark of the room, still searching like something was hiding in the midst of dirty clothes on the floor and paintings thrown on the wall. Realistically, the boys were the most dangerous thing in your house, but that didn’t stop your imagination from running wild.

“Oh, baby,” Brian sighed, “I’m going to turn you around, alright?”

He sat up, shuffling around for a moment, and then, his hands were on your shoulders, gently maneuvering you until you were facing him instead of the dark. The shuffling, you realized, had been him pushing Tim’s arm from him, the man’s sprawled out, still reaching for y’all as he snored lightly.

You could feel yourself begin to relax, shoulders losing tension as you began to take in the features of Brian’s face, the hook of his nose and curve of his jaw. He looked tired, but he still cupped your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re okay, I promise. We’re right here. You’re safe.”

You let out a shuddering sigh, fingers twitching as your body began to loosen its vice grip on you. “Brian,” you managed to whisper out.

He pressed his thumbs to your cheekbones, silently smoothing over your face. “I don’t know what that mind of yours is making, but I promise you’re okay. We’re right here for you – fully at your beck and call.” He was quiet for a bit longer, watching as your body slowly slumped until you were able to move fully again, pressing into his chest with a soft noise of comfort. “Do you want to go watch a movie or something? Get up and out of bed?”

You shook your head. “You need to sleep, Bri,” you whispered, throat still thick from the past few moments.

The door opened quietly, the click the only indicator besides the gentle stream of light that flooded the room. “O-oh, s-sss-sorry, did I wake you u-up?” Toby’s feet padded softly against the floor. “I can’t s-sleep,"

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Of course, there was always somebody there for you. Of course, he couldn’t sleep. Brian chuckled as well, though his was much sleepier, pressing another kiss to your cheek this time. “How about Toby takes care of you, and then when he passes out, Tim or I will take his place. Does that sound good?”

Tim snorted in his sleep, like he was responding to the quiet sound of his name. You smiled, nodding. “I can do that.”

Toby leaned down, trying to hear the conversation better. “N-nightmare ag-gain?” You hummed an affirmation, and he grumbled to himself, face scrunching into a frown. “C-come on, we c-can watch a m-mmm-movie together.”

“And if you’re feeling up to trying to sleep again, we’ll be right here.”

You slid out from the bed, letting Toby wrap his arms around your waist. “Thank you, Brian. Thank you, Toby.”

“Anytime, darling.”

“Y-yeah. Anytime. Now, let’s-sss watch that n-new horror movie w-we rent-rented.”

And that sounded divine.

#brian thomas x reader #hoody x reader #masky x reader #tim wright x reader #proxies x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta x reader #marble hornets x reader #poly!proxies x reader

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laughingsapphic-creates · 11 months

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Inukag week, Day 1: Love Languages

((So glad I managed to squeeze this off before midnight!))

@inukag-week

~~~~~~

In My Arms

Kagome's return to the medieval period, being as long-awaited as it was, did not pass without fanfare. The village had welcomed her back with open arms, and held a small festival to celebrate - nothing too extravagant, it was still planting season after all, but it was amazing to know just how many people had missed her, beyond her core group of feudal friends.

By the time the first month passed, things had mostly settled into a routine that Kagome was only too happy to fall into. The familiarity had kicked in, even as she adjusted to the vast changes that had been made in her absence.

Shippo had hit an early growth spurt and almost came up to her hip now. He was still quite short for his age, but she didn't expect that he would get very tall. Sango and Miroku had babies, two beautiful little girls and the most adorable baby boy Kagome had seen since Sota was born. Fatherhood had relaxed Miroku, if only by a little, and Sango was the most fiercely protective mama bear, exactly as Kagome had expected her to be.

But the largest change, of course, was with Inuyasha. Kagome knew in her heart how they felt about each other, but they hadn't actually said it yet. A thin layer of the normalcy she remembered was still there - it was only a matter of a few days following her return that the two of them were bickering like no time had passed at all.

But no matter the argument or insult thrown, every barb was dulled by the fact that Inuyasha had barely stopped touching her since she returned.

Any time they sat down for a meal or conversation, he was tucked up against her side, assuming he hadn't sat first and pulled her right down into his lap. Walking through the village or woods? It was only a matter of time before his hand found her back or his fingers tangled with hers. He'd been favoring holding her hand more lately, but she supposed it was at least partially because she had made a habit of lifting their joined hands to kiss his knuckles. She'd noticed the way his expression softened when she did it, and if he'd had a tail - as she often wished he did, when they first met and she had struggled to read him - she was certain it would be wagging.

She had almost asked about it, the first time she found him leaning on her during dinner the night she returned, but the way his ears drooped when she said his name stopped her in her tracks before she could say a word more. And hey, it wasn't as if she was complaining, right? Why would she? So she'd asked if he had enough rice and smiled at how he relaxed even further into her as the meal progressed.

That evening, when he had sat up against the wall of Kaede's hut, putting himself between her and the door the way he always did, she had stayed in place for only a minute or two before crawling closer and resting her head in his lap.

From there, everything had just… fallen into place.

Now, a month into her new life, she knew she couldn't be happier with her decision. She'd taken up priestess training with Kaede again, and was always ready to help Sango with the kids. And Inuyasha was always nearby. He'd been more than a bit antsy as the weeks wore on, and Kagome found herself the tiniest bit relieved when Miroku came around to let Inuyasha know they'd been hired for an exorcism to the north, maybe two days walk from the village. She thought it would be a good opportunity for Inuyasha to let off some steam - he'd been in the village with her for a month now, and she knew too well how anxious that could make him.

"Nah. I'm not feelin' it this time around. You and Shippo can handle it, right?"

Sango and Kagome looked up from where Hisui was laying, Sango arching a brow at him while Kagome's furrowed in confused concern.

"Are you sure, Inuyasha? Everything's been so peaceful lately, it might be a while before we get another job."

"Yeah, I'm good. Hey! Maybe Sango can go and Kagome and I can handle the brats!"

The way Sango picked up the baby and held him to her while glaring daggers at Inuyasha said that they would not be allowed to "handle the brats" without her just yet. Kagome stood from her spot on the grass, picking up a nearby bucket.

"I'm… gonna go get more water for the kettle," she hummed, only getting a few paces away before she heard footsteps start up behind her.

She led Inuyasha a little ways away from the rest of the group, waiting until he reached out to tangle his fingers with her free hand to speak.

"I think you should go with Miroku."

"He'll be fine on his own. We haven't run into anything too powerful in over a year."

"That's not what I mean, and I think you know it," she hummed, pulling him closer and releasing his hand so she could wrap her arm around his middle. No escaping this conversation. She saw his ears lower, but his arm automatically mirrored hers. "Don't get me wrong; I love having you close at hand every minute of every day. I love holding hands and cuddling at night. But we need to be able to go off and do our own thing for a while. It's been a month since I got back, and you're already going stir-crazy."

"I'm fine, it's not a big deal," he but back, sounding more than a little grumpy.

"Oh, please. I know you well enough to know when you're itching for a fight. Really, Inuyasha, you can leave the village for a couple of days! Sango and I can look after the kids and hold down the fort until you get back."

"It's not that simple. What if-"

"If anything happens here, Sango and I can handle it. Shippo and Kilala will take the kids somewhere safe while we deal with whatever demon decides that attacking us is worth dying for."

"Kagome-"

"And again, zero complaints about the cuddling, but you really don't need to babysit me! I'll be right where you left me when you come back-"

"You disappeared in front of my eyes! If you're going to get taken away from me again, I at least want to be here to say goodbye!"

Kagome felt her eyes go wide, and Inuyasha winced a little at his own outburst. A brief, tense silence fell between them before Kagome's expression went soft, and she reached out, placing her hands gently on the sides of his face.

"It's happened before." Inuyasha tersely reminded her, eyes cast downward. "The jewel's come back before, it could happen again, and I don't- I can't lose you again. But if something is gonna take you away, I want to at least hold you until you go."

She took a deep breath, an apologetic look crossing her face. Inuyasha had gradually become more physically affectionate over their time together, so while she'd expected a little separation anxiety, she had thought the new closeness was just the natural expression of their relationship. She wished she had noticed his concern sooner, if only so that she could have assuaged his fears.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmured, waiting until his amber eyes met hers. "I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore. I couldn't say why, but I'm as certain as I can be, I'm here to stay. I know it's scary. Being back here with you all has felt like a dream, and sometimes I worry I'm going to wake up."

She pulled his face down so she could press her forehead to his. Her hands moved down his chest and wrapped around his middle, giving him a warm smile.

"But I'm here. You're not getting rid of me that easily again. And if a human, a demon, or fate itself tries to take me away again, you know I'll fight tooth and nail to get back to you."

She felt his arms close around her, and he leaned a little more heavily into her, eyes falling shut. In a voice smaller than any she'd ever heard from him before, he asked, "Promise?"

"I promise," she murmured back, squeezing him tight against her. "So here's what's going to happen: You're going to go with Miroku. You're gonna exorcize whatever Demon you've been hired to handle. And in a few days time, you'll be back in my arms. Just like you are now. Okay?"

Inuyasha sighed, but after a moment, offered a small smile, pulling away enough to meet her eyes again.

"Okay," he finally allowed, reaching up to brush her bangs out of her eyes.

"Good. Now hurry on - the sooner you get going, the sooner you'll be back."

#Inuyasha #inukag #inukag week #inukag week day 1 #inukag week 2023 #tayto writes

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proxima-writes · 1 year

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the satanic rites of eddie munson (chapter 2)

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Cheerleader!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Read on AO3

Summary:

Eddie was just trying to have a normal Thursday when some band from out of town decides he’d make an excellent virgin sacrifice for their get-famous-quick plan.

Except he’s not a virgin, and the ritual unleashes something much more sinister that lives in him now, hungry for flesh and possessive of you, the pretty cheerleader he’s always been drawn to.

Which means anyone that touches you? Needs to die.

Inspired by the movie Jennifer's Body.

Additional tags: violence, fighting, allusions to dv, possessive behavior

Eddie’s eyelids flutter open. The first thing that registers is the pain in his head. The second is that his arms are pinned to his sides, held down by rope that’s bound him to a tree.

Something crackles, and when he turns his head he sees three men silhouetted by a fire, their features covered in darkness. One of them holds a large book in his hands and another holds a dagger, the blade catching the light of the fire as he passes it between his hands.

“What the fuck,” Eddie groans.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. It did say that was important.”

The man with the dagger steps forward until he stands in front of Eddie. He crouches, placing the tip of his dagger beneath Eddie’s chin. The sharp point pricks his skin as he swallows.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to make it in the music industry? Some would say…you have to make certain sacrifices to get there.”

________

The next day, Eddie’s eating his second bowl of cereal at the small kitchen table when the news breaks that Gregory Pearson, beloved son of Officer James Pearson, has been found dead of a suspected animal attack.

“--severe lacerations to his face, neck, shoulders, and chest,” the reporter reads. Eddie’s chewing slows as he listens. “Officials believe that this unfortunate attack is the result of a mountain lion.”

Uncle Wayne huffs from the living room. “Ain’t no mountain lions in Hawkins,” he mutters as he sets up his roll-away mattress for his daytime sleep. “Also, Eddie, don’t think I didn’t notice my steak missing, you little shit. You owe me.”

Eddie throws him a two finger salute in acknowledgment as he places his dirty bowl in the sink. He grabs his things from his room and heads out the door to his van. As he turns the old hunk of junk on, the radio blares with a song that sounds oddly familiar.

“And that was Death By Midnight with their new hit single, Lost Without You, ” the show host says as the guitar riffs fade out. Eddie wracks his brain for where he may have heard the song or band before, but nothing comes to mind. With a shrug, he changes the station to another rock channel, only for the same song to be playing.

“Must be popular,” he mumbles as he pulls out of Forest Hills trailer park.

________

The atmosphere at school is somber, a distinct juxtaposition to how good he feels. There are groups of students huddled together, whispering or crying. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as a girl near his locker lets out a horrible sob before collapsing to the ground. He steps around her, knocking her bag out of the way with a booted foot as he makes his way to chemistry class.

You’re there before him, which rarely happens. You’ve told him before how you have a tendency to snooze your alarm one too many times each morning. Despite the slump in your shoulders, you still smile as he takes his seat.

“You’re looking a lot better today,” you tell him. Eddie shrugs.

“Feelin’ a lot better too, sweetheart,” Eddie replies with a wink. He revels in the splotches of pink that appear on your cheeks, trailing down your neck and disappearing into your shirt.

What he wouldn’t give to chase it down your body.

“Kinda crazy what happened to Greg, right?” You ask. “I mean, a mountain lion? Do we even have those here?”

If you asked Eddie, Greg deserved what happened to him. He was a piece of shit, a showboating jock that made people miserable for his own enjoyment.

But he doesn’t say that.

“Yeah, really crazy,” he replies instead. “Maybe you shouldn’t be walking home after school. If…if you want, I can give you a ride?”

Your eyes go all soft and sweet as you look up at him. That look gives him almost as much of a high as ripping into Greg’s throat did.

Almost.

“That’s really sweet, Eddie. Are you sure you don’t mind? I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way or anything.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, princess.”

The bell rings, tearing your attention away from him, but Eddie notices the way your hand grips your pencil just a little bit tighter, how you shift on the stool in a way that rubs your thighs together.

Mine.

________

You’re in the cafeteria trying to pay attention to something Carol is telling you about her plans for the weekend, but all you can think about is Eddie Munson.

Which isn’t new, by any means. You’ve always been kind of smitten over the school outcast. He’s sweet and hilarious, not to mention cute with his wild curly hair and big brown eyes. You look forward to your classes with him and love the way he lets his guard down around you despite the high school crowd you belong to.

Your mind drifts back to first period and the way your whole body seemed to light on fire at him calling you sweetheart and princess . Even now, just thinking about it, you have to fight the urge to squirm in your seat.

He’s never called you names like that before.

You want him to do it again.

________

Eddie stares across the cafeteria at where you sit with your cheerleader friends. His plate of lukewarm mac and cheese sits untouched in front of him. Ever since his… altercation …with Greg, he hasn’t felt hungry.

At least, not for food.

“You gonna eat that?” Dustin asks, fingers already inching towards the paper tray.

“Go for it,” Eddie replies, eyes still trained on you.

You look up, eyes meeting his, and Eddie feels like something snaps into place, like a tether goes taut between the two of you with just one look. Your eyebrows draw together and your head tilts slightly, a cute little expression of confusion.

The bell rings for the end of lunch, making you jump in surprise and breaking that connection. Eddie clenches his jaw against the loss, already itching to feel it again.

Soon.

________

It’s the end of the day and you’re grabbing the books that you need from your locker. When you shut the door, you let out a shriek of surprise. Eddie leans against the locker beside yours, lips spread in a mischievous grin. You smack him on the shoulder.

“Don’t scare me like that, Eddie!” You hiss.

“Sorry, princess. You ready to go?” He asks once he’s able to get his laughter under control.

“Yeah, I just gotta grab something from the locker room. I’ll be quick.”

He follows your lead to the gym, stopping outside the locker room doors to wait for you. There’s no sports scheduled today, not since news broke about Greg, so the locker room should be empty.

Instead, someone’s sitting on one of the benches, hunched over with his back to the door. He lifts his head when he hears your footsteps. You recognize the perfectly groomed blonde hair.

“Jason? What are you doing in the girl’s locker room?” You ask.

He sighs, turning his head to look at you with bloodshot eyes. “Chrissy…Chrissy broke up with me.”

“Oh. I’m…uh…I’m sorry?” You shuffle over to your locker, holding back a shiver at the feel of his eyes following your motions.

“Yeah. She said she just can’t handle a relationship right now, with everything,” he continues, standing. You spin the lock with fumbling fingers, your heart rate picking up speed. “Says she just wants to focus on herself.”

“That…that makes sense, I guess,” you mumble, finally getting the lock to click and pulling the door open. You reach inside to grab your cheer bag, looping it over your shoulder.

“Does it, though? You know, I’d always heard she had a thing for Greg,” he says, voice closer. “You know anything about that?”

“No. Are you listening to yourself right now? Chrissy wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Maybe. But maybe you’re just covering for her.” He reaches an arm past you, shutting the locker door with a bang that makes you jump. “Maybe you know more than you’re telling me.”

You spin on your heel, surprised to find Jason so close, looming over you with a look in his eye that makes you feel like a rabbit sighted by a wolf. “Maybe you just need to accept that Chrissy finally came to her senses about your controlling behavior, Jason, ” you say. “Because maybe I do know a little more, but not about Chrissy and Greg. About you.”

His hand wraps around your throat, shoving you back against the lockers. His lips curl in a snarl, fingers tightening their grip as you struggle against him.

“The fuck is going on here?” Eddie shouts. Jason immediately releases your neck, turning to face his interruption.

“Nothing. We were just having a little chat, weren’t we?” Jason replies, directing the question to you. Eddie calls your name.

“How about you head out to the parking lot, I’ll meet you there,” he says, eyes never leaving Jason. “Now,” he snaps when you don’t move.

You scramble away from Jason, rushing past Eddie and out the door. As you follow his instructions to meet him in the parking lot, you can’t help the worry blooming in your gut. The look in Eddie’s eye as he stared down Jason was almost…inhuman.

And you think that maybe…maybe Jason isn’t the bigger predator in that room.

________

Eddie wraps a fist in Jason’s t-shirt, slamming him back against the lockers with a strength he didn’t even know he possessed. The blonde’s head bounces off the metal with a satisfying sound.

“Don’t you ever touch her again, you hear me, pretty boy?” He snaps.

Jason’s eyes are wide with a fear so potent, it makes Eddie’s head spin and his teeth ache. “Let go of me you fucking freak!”

“Have it your way.” Eddie releases him and he crumbles to the floor in a heap. He gives him one swift kick in the ribs for good measure. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, Jason,” he warns, before turning to leave.

Eddie’s got a good idea of what his next meal will look like.

________

You’re leaning against Eddie’s van, rubbing a hand absently across your neck when you spot him exiting the gym. Alone.

With quick strides he approaches you, hands gripping you by the shoulders and eyes searching you over for signs of injury. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice tinged with worry as his eyes zero in on the red mark left behind by Jason’s hand.

“I’m fine, Eddie, really. Are you okay?” He doesn’t respond. Instead, a gentle hand cups against your neck, a calloused thumb rubbing across your throat. His jaw clenches. “Eddie?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he finally says.

The nickname, combined with the feel of his hands on you makes you shiver, eyes fluttering shut. When you open them, Eddie’s gaze is locked on your lips.

You stand perfectly still. The hand on your throat slides up, framing your jaw. His thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same as it had across your throat.

All too soon, he’s releasing you from his grasp, stepping back and putting space between your bodies that you wish wasn’t there.

“Come on. Let's get you home,” he says, voice rough. He reaches around you, pulling open the passenger door of the van. “Wouldn’t want your parents to worry.”

“Right, yeah.” You try to hide the disappointment you feel. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #no use of y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #demon eddie munson #inspired by jennifer’s body #possessive eddie munson

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goldengirlls · 2 years

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one — everything has changed

summary— one fleeting memory after another and the wishing of a star bringing her a little closer to home.

pairings— proathlete!bucky x reader

warnings— language, drinking, swearing, slight sexual content

a/n— the out pouring love on my prologue has blown me away so thank you for that! this ones the shortest part of the series but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

series m.list | s.stan m.list | m.list

Fate was a cruel thing.

Bucky remembers it all too well. The smell of opium lingering on your skin when he’d whisper words under your ears. The words that were forsure imprinted on your warm skin after a win. The way your laugh echoed in the bare night when the two of them sat under what he made yours.

A vicious cycle that he was to blame.

“See that?“ He whispered, his grip tightening on the person who fit him like a puzzle piece. “All of those are yours.”

“What do you mean?” Spoken through a smile and butterflies in your stomach. Flush against the person who made everything feel like home.

“The stars.” Bucky’s Adam's apple bobbed. Kisses of admiration and love adorning your scalp, his voice was a song that you never got sick of.

“I’m declaring the stars and sky as yours, eight.”

Rolling your head up, your eyes connected with the eyes that reminded you of a golden hour and a boyish smile.

“Really?” Fingers twirling with a stray piece of hair, “Why?” Impatiently chewing on your bottom lip.

“Because, you were kissed by the moon, and everything shine’s brighter when you’re around.” Bucky quipped right back. “Just like the stars.”

“Buck? Hey Buck l—, buddy?” A hand waving over his face forced him out of his daydream.

“Yeah, sorry I’m listening.” Demanding a smile from within him and his only sense of escape dwindling from his mind.

“How ya feelin good about all of this, I mean shit, Steve it was always just ideas and a dream jotted on a piece of paper but now it’s a reality. Your reality.” A hand placing itself on Steve’s crisp blue button down, slightly pushing his figure away, “Proud of ya. Deserve all the happiness in the world, man.”

“Kinda wild really, but couldn't have done it without ya,” Teasing smile, “Ya know, being a pain in my ass all those years.”

A real laugh escaped from his wet lips. Something he hadn’t done in a long time.

“So do you, Bucky.” Steve directs back to his childhood best friend.

Bucky paused, placing his drink on the dark mahogany bar, Adam apple bobbing harshly, forcing everything down.

A dry chuckle leaving his lips, “Tonight isn’t about me.” Absentmindedly rubbing the only thing left he had of you.

“‘Sides, happiness doesn’t exist with me, Steve. Don’t really deserve it after everything.” Pushing forth a smile. Hoping that it would convince the unwanted topic.

But Bucky knew Steve almost as well as he knew himself, and he wasn’t giving it up anytime soon.

“Everyone, and I mean everyone, Bucky deserves to be happy, including you.” Steve stated, his gaze now fixed on Bucky—

not dropping it anytime soon, “So since I’m your best friend,” Signaling the bartender for a fresh round, “Were gonna sit here, drink and hopefully talk about the fact you’re gonna be seein’ her for the first time in long time.” Standing firm behind his words.

And just like that the memories of her of cotton candy sunsets, midnights and peonies flashed before him, “She hates me.” Bucky mutters the words out loud, wishing he never broke his favorite person.

Finally making eye contact with his best friend since childhood. The one who saw him through everything.

“But,” Bucky chuckled forcing the water that begged to be released, “Don’t really blame her y’know. Shit— I’d hate me too. Did the one thing I promised her I never would.” Bucky coughed, gulping down his old drink and grabbing the new one.

“Actions have consequences, Steve.”

“Jamie!! You did it.” Pillow-like lips and a flash before him pressed against him, he felt home wrap around him. “So proud of you, always.” Star like eyes sweeping over his features.

“Couldn’t have done it without ya baby girl. Never can— good luck charm.” Boyish smiled adorning his face as he swept over your features, outlining you like the constellations in the sky and his resting on the newly added accessory— the J hanging effortlessly on you. “Looks good on ya— everything does, Star. Can I geta ‘nother kiss from ya? Make my night even better?”

Your hopeless lovestruck baseball boy.

A roll of your star like eyes and a crescent moon appearing on your peonies colored lips, “You know you’re seriously one of the cheesiest people I’ve ever met, right?” Cloudy manicured fingers combing through his wet locks.

“Maybe, but you love it almost as much as you love your dream boy.” The words whispered over your lips, melting into them as he spoke.

“Dream boy? That’s new.” Quipping right back.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows as his hands molded to the curve of your hips, “New bad? Or new good?” Lips so close, you could taste the mint from his gum with a mix of aftershave— Cedarwood and home.

“New great, dream boy.” Cotton candy mixed with watermelon welcoming him as he pressed his smile onto yours.

“Shit— kiss me like that again, I promise all the gentlemen in me will be left in this parking lot.”

Your lips once again welcoming his as he pressed you against the door to your baseball boys car— with his promise in mind.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t shy or weak by any means, but when it came to you, he was. Bucky’s lips parted for a moment—begging to ask the one question he dreaded the most.

“Uh, can I ask ya something Steve?” Not daring to look in the eyes of his best friend. Feeling shallow and weak as he waited for his response.

“The answer to your question is no.” Steve responded, patiently waiting for the question or response of his friend that would surely follow, but it never came. “Nat told me she’s her plus one, well more like half of the one.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, looking ahead of him at the wall of neatly arranged liquor bottles for an answer, then it dawned on him— Wanda.

A sense of relief washed over him when the stars aligned in his favor. Bucky wasn’t sure how he would handle seeing someone that wasn’t him with her. Of course he’d heard through the grapevine that you’d dated other guys from time to time, but those few times he had, he felt his skin crawl and his heartbreak a little each time. He’d rather be hit with a ball at ninety miles an hour than see her with someone else.

“Always attached at the hip, the three of them. Never could go far without one of them.” Steve chuckled though his words and finished his drink with one last sip.

A thick silence formed over them, voices of people soon faded, and the chimes of glasses disappeared.

Bucky paused, a few heartbeats passing as he attempted to gather his thoughts. And when he did, he raised his chin, his stormy eyes faltered to Steve, finally connecting with them. Having been afraid of the eyes that held all the answers Bucky wanted, no needed to ask, but afraid of what would be written in them.

“Piece of advice, try talkin’ to her, Buck.” Steve's eyes looked over Bucky’s features— droopy eyes and senses of relief washing the rest away.

“It’s been eight years. Things change and people change, Bucky.” Words pouring through the midnight sky. “Never know what might happen.”

Bucky nodded slowly, finishing his drink and swallowed the words spoken throughout the night down with them.

It had taken you one hour to go through customs, many minutes of waiting for your bags, bumper to bumper traffic and sigh of relief when your ears heard the voice of one of the most important people in your life bring you to her.

“Y/n!”

Bright eyes and the arms of the closest things to home wrap engulfed you in a tidal wave of emotions. Months of countless texts and facetime calls all leading up to this moment.

“Welcome home, my baby girl.”

Her safety net wrapped around her. Arms that kept her safe from the monsters hidden under her bed. The very ones that taught her to ride her purple bike. Ones that inspired her talent for writing and drawing— the very ones that lead her to the women she is today.

“Hi mom.” Squeezing all of her tightly, “Missed you.” Pushing the water back that lined your eyes.

“Oh honey, we have missed you all too much.” Her voice filled with love and meaning. She pulled away, her eyes raked over you— capturing this moment, she had been waiting for, for far too long.

“Come on. Come in, I wanna hear about your flight and your latest project. You know at that place I can’t remember the name of.” She rambled faster than she could think, “I just wanna hear about everything I’ve missed about you.”

“You look,” trying to speak the word that taunted him, “—happy, Pepper. Really. Can’t believe the big days’ just knocking on the door.”

“I know, it’s all so crazy to think so many years later here we are, only days away from a moment that I’ve wished for so long.” Peppers lips curving into a smile, her eyes catching the man who changed her life, the nod of his asking her to excuse herself from the group in front of her.

“It looks good on him.” Sam chuckled into his glass and his index finger circled around the cool air.

“Yeah, it does.” Bucky murmured before reaching for another drink on a tray that passed by him.

Searching in the sea of nameless faces, engulfed in Tom Ford, scotch filling his taste buds as laughs fill the joyous air, dreaming of the moment that eight years would appear soon enough.

Black coated eyelashes fluttered in every direction taking in the picture in front of you. It was nothing short of Tony and Pepper. Candle light dancing in every direction— illuminating the small but meaningful details of the building and the important details that shouted love.

But while the details of love danced before you, you felt every emotion you wished to have felt. Craved on the tip of your tongue. Something you wanted with him.

“Y/n.” Tony grinned as he brought you into his arms— a welcome home and it's been far too long residing in the moment.

“Tony, hi. Congratulations.” The words flowing off your tongue, pulling back as you drink in the event around you. “This looks beautiful.”

“ ‘s’all Pepper.” Spoken with love and adoration.

A hand brushing itself on your back and the very woman appearing and taking you into her arms.

“Welcome home.” Pepper spoke, grabbing your hand and squeezing them.

“Thank you. Pepper, this looks amazing. You look beautiful.” You responded, cocking your head slightly to the side and a twinkle in your eyes.

“So do you. Truly. And I’m so happy you’re here.” Catching your eye— solidifying her words. “And I’m dying to catch up and hear all about the past few months, but I know there's a few people here dying to see you, so go say hi and come find me a little later.”

“Pepper-“

“I’m not asking. Go.” Pepper smiled, fleeting away from your vision.

Moments later you found yourself with a drink grasped in your hand, condensation dripped on the cloudy manicured fingers as your eyes searched the midnight ambience for a familiar face when one of the many that became familiar appeared.

“Long time no see stranger.” The gruff voice spoke, snapping you from the blue eyes. Arms reaching out to enclose around you.

“Steve. Oh my god. Hi.” You responded happily and excitingly, the corners of your mouth pushing a smile out.

“Welcome home.” Steve repeated for what felt like the millionth time today but happily accepted it. “Have’ya been here long?”

“Yeah me too and no, just a few minutes ago.” Your pink, cotton candy like lips forming a smile with a million emotions as you took in a part of him.

“You know you’re all the talk. Were all happy you’re home.” Steve stated. The blue eyes telling you more than his lips.

He’s happy you’re home.

You paused, “Yeah, uh speaking of, where is everyone?” Eyes peering behind him.

“C’mon, follow me.” Steve’s voice ringing through your ears as you followed him through the mess of people.

A new melody was created as many people welcomed you home. Preaches of how are you and I missed you lingered in the air. The arms of your best friends wrapping you snug against them. Declarations of love passed between the three of you as if nothing existed and no time had been passed. Gold soaring through you and claiming itself on your dress is everything you felt. Promises of pictures and a family dinner at the Love were spoken and pinky promises held to your heart from a very demanding Wanda and Natasha.

For a fleeting moment everything felt as close as it could to okay, but fate had a twisted sense of humor and something else in mind.

The gold dress suddenly felt too tight and your mind was running a marathon. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. A moment you never thought would happen.

Brown hair catching your eyes. The semi forced smile quickly faded and was replaced with a haunting expression. Voices and music turned to white noise, the bustle of people became blurry and it was all in slow motion— cruel and heartbreaking.

Suddenly you were drowning in blue. And in that blue, was the scripture with a million moments and reasons for the two of you.

The star spangled midnight sky that he once claimed as yours by the boyish smile that consumed your thoughts. Red lips that once spoke words of love and happiness as they ghosted over the column of your neck appearing before you.

The familiar look in his eye, chose you once upon a time.

But once upon a time didn’t exist, only reality. And reality was you were in love with someone who loved another.

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