#I think I have like two or three things in my drafts that are responding to you just I'm postponing them for after I reread Hollowpox

[wundrousarts]

What do you think about the other Wundersmiths besides Morrigan and Squall?

There are always 9, and Squall supposedly uses the "curse" to cover up killing all the children born on Eventide, because they have the potential to become Wundersmiths. Yet there were only three other cursed children registered in the Republic (and even then, Jupiter didn't think that they were Wundersmiths at all). Do you think that all of the other Wundersmiths went unregistered in the Republic? Are some actually born in Nevermoor? How come they haven't been discovered, if Squall can't kill them (I assume he can't, given that they don't seem to have any version of the curse)? Why can't they be born in Nevermoor, and does it have something to do with the attempted coup/massacre?

I think it could be possible that post-Massacre, Wundersmiths couldn’t be born in Nevermoor due to the magic that’s keeping Squall out, but I can’t say if the same is true pre-Massacre. According to Sofia, in the olden days when a Wundersmith would die, Wunsoc would send out a team to search “all over the realm” for the new one. This would cover all of the States, probably also the Free State. I think sometimes folks forget that Nevermoor is just a city in a larger state! I think it could be interesting if the city of Nevermoor is so Wunder-dense that Wundersmiths can’t be born there. I also like to think that Nevermoor/Wunsoc is similar to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, if you’re a Star Wars fan. Both are places of study that people with magic powers who are taken away from their parents at a young age go to train.

When it comes to the cursed children, I feel like the “lightning rod” parallel in Nevermoor and Hollowpox solidifies for me that they all are (or, eight of them are) Wundersmiths. It’s mentioned that there’s three other children on the registry, and then Mog is the fourth, so there should be four other mini Wundersmiths out in the world. It is possible that they aren’t registered. They also possibly could be in the Free State perhaps. Regardless of where any of them are, because of the Gossamer and the Hunt, Squall can just kill them whenever from wherever it seems.

You have to also remember that the "curse" isn't real, it's just something that people made up to rationalize why the children died. If there are perhaps Wundersmiths born in the Free State, perhaps they're harder to spot because they aren't publicly registered in the same way. Also, I wonder if any of accidental manifestations are brushed off easier because the Free State is so much more Wundrous than the Republic. I know that Mog had like a huge gathering, but perhaps it's a little easier to passively or unconsciously use up/dispel Wunder in the Free State just because there's so much that seems fueled by it. This, along with the fact that there is no longer a dedicated Wundersmith Search Team, might be why folks slip under the radar and also don't raise alarm bells when they are inevitably killed by Squall. Also, they may not even manifest anything! Nothing Mog was accused of ever seemed to link back to her Wundersmith powers afaik, and I think she was only found by Jupiter due to her abnormally large gathering of Wunder.

Additionally, referring back to Sofia’s quote, they could also just die whenever. Perhaps, despite Squall’s best effort, not all of the Wundersmiths are always born on Eventide post-Massacre just because one died of natural causes or an accident earlier than expected and threw a wrench into the reincarnation tracking. Don’t think too hard about how this then wouldn’t match up with my Eventide theory 100%, because that honestly has a lot of holes and I might have to put that on hold for a book or two until we get more Wundersmith info.

I don’t think there’s another child Wundersmith out there waiting to be featured in a future book, and I also don’t think that there’s secretly an older Wundersmith out there. I think that Squall would’ve noticed that during his cullings. However, I'm curious what Jupiter meant when he said "they're safe" when asked about the other cursed children. I wonder if he did manage to snatch one or two up, or if that was a lie. I personally don't think there's any more out there, nor do I want any more to show up, but who knows.

I think it’s worth mentioning that Mog, as our beloved Main Character, is an Anomaly. Whereas other States with cursed children had shortages, there was an abundance of Wunder in Wolfacre. I don’t think it’s something like “some Wundersmiths are just more powerful than others,” I think that Mog's power compared to the others is due to her mindset + emotions + the environment that she was raised in that caused her to just unconsciously gather an absolutely massive amount of Wunder. For all we know, the other cursed children could have been coddled by their parents due to their bad luck and impending deaths whereas Mog was scorned. Honestly, I wonder if her family might've treated her a little nicer if her mom hadn't died? Anyways, Mog's resentment and anger and emotions are vital to her power, which is something we see explored a lot in Wundersmith, especially with Inferno. She stood out to both Squall and Jupiter, which is why both of them wanted to pluck her up.

If anything isn't clear or you'd like me to elaborate, please let me know! Also if any of my info is straight up wrong, please tell me, because that happens sometimes lol.

TL;DR: I think it’s hard to theorize and answer a lot of these questions with much certainty because there’s a lot we don’t know, either because it hasn’t been discussed yet or it’s been filtered through biased or unreliable sources.

Side note: do you think that Squall also kills any other unlucky (lol) people born on Eventide that aren’t Wundersmiths, or does he spare them?

#this is NOT answered remotely in order of your questions and for that I am sorry #asks #nevermoor #nevermoor theory #got distracted partway through and nows it's 3:30 AM so I may have forgotten some things I was going to originally say. rip. #also I don't remember if I've talked about the lightning rod parallel on here so if you're confused on that pls just lmk and I can explain #thank you for the ask I always love getting asks that allow me to think and talk about things! #I think I have like two or three things in my drafts that are responding to you just I'm postponing them for after I reread Hollowpox

[screampied]

‘ IT'S A MATCH: LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ! ,

profile. girl, matching with your best friend on tinder is pretty awkward. hooking up with him, even more awkward. wanna know what’s even worse though? saying that word—i love you.

wc 4.9k

warnings. fem! reader, modern au, humor, size kink, mutual pining, loser boy gojo, unprotected, cheesy pick up lines, praise, touch starved satoru, cunnìlingus, overstim, créampie, i felt silly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

an. old old draft ;') based on the song last friday night. damn!

“mannn i’m so cooked,” gojo murmurs to himself, pacing back and forth. he’s dragging his feet against the silkened strands of the carpet before a soft pout spreads across his lips. “she left me on delivered for seven minutes…… seven.”

to be fair, in actuality you did. only because you were occupied with doing your hair. gojo being gojo was freaking out, thinking you were probably uninterested. albeit, once you finally did reply, his heart nearly fell out of his chest.

‘how does 7 pm sound?’

‘soid@:$:@) good’

‘um what?’

gojo mentally smacks his forehead, stupidly mashing on his keyboard, barely even letting a second go by once you responded. he was way too eager, he intakes a sharp breath before smiling — replying with a cheesy thumbs up.

he had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. after his best friend, you, advising him to give dating apps a try, he actually does. gojo matched with a lot of women not even minutes after installing the app onto his phone. how coincidental that the main person who caught his attention was you, the both of you matched and he made sure to text you first.

who knew though. that you’d be matching with the one and only satoru gojo. definitely not you, and of course, not him.

despite what everyone said, gojo was a bit of a womanizer, sure. but he was also a huge hopeless romantic.

he started fooling around on dating sites . . not looking for love necessarily but mainly to pass time. you mentioned it to him and he decided to give it a try.

pretty soon, time flew by quick. with a quick snap, it was just about to hit six o’clock pm.

gojo threw on grey sweats and ruffled up his hair a bit. he couldn’t lie to himself, first date and he felt a bit nervous. who was he kidding though, you told him to come to your apartment.

probably wouldn’t end up being a date, but still.

he read through your bio about three times, and your personality stood out to him.

you and him surprisingly had the same interests in lots of things, you loved sweets, and loathed scary movies. “…she’s so perfect,” he’d utter to himself, just imagining the sound of your sweet voice.

gojo abruptly snaps out of his thoughts—he didn’t want be too late, so with a quickness, he starts to make his way to your house.

with hands buried in his pockets, he gives a few hard knocks on the front of your door. about approximately nine seconds later, you open the door and his maw instantly drops. “y-you?”

“hey, y—satoru?” you mimicked the same reactions

the silence was practically deadly.

the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before you furrow your eyebrows. “satoru,” you mumble, bringing a hand towards your face to rub your forehead. “…you matched with me on purpose, didn’t you?”

“wha— noooo!” he protests, a cute pout tugging against the corners of his lips. he obviously did. you eyed him from head to toe. whilst his hands were buried into his pockets, you could tell that you made him a bit nervous. a light tint of color started to flush against his cheeks before he pulls on his sweater. “heh, is it gettin' hot in here or is it just me.”

“oh my god,” you suddenly spoke. “no wonder you didn’t have a profile picture,” and then you give him an abrupt glare. “satoru. why’d you even use the kfc logo as a profile picture anyway? idiot.”

“oh— it’s a long story.”

you deadpan, mentally face palming yourself.

gojo takes a good look at you, and he’s got a sudden sheepish grin. “woah,” he utters, and his eyes linger for a long time. he’s never seen you dress in such a formal pretty way. he felt a sudden heat rush to both sides of his face before without thinking, he murmurs. “you look kinda hot.”

“kinda? now i’m offended.” you scoff, tugging on your fishnets.

“all you’re getting from me,” he fake pouts. he then comes closer, closer . . all until he’s just inches apart.

one look at your dress and he just wanted to rip it off. you and him were so attached to the hip, he’s never expected to see you in this kind of light. if you were being honest, his gaze that ran against your entire figure made you a bit nervous.

throughout your long term friendship with gojo, he was known to be flirty every now and then. you figured that was just his personality but perhaps he started to view you different. “so,” he shrugs, bending down to your level as a way of mockery, “is this the part where we hook up?”

“well technically, yeah—” and you look right into his eyes.

he was just undressing you with eyes practically, cerulean bright irises roaming down your body before he hums. “…..oh,” and he awkwardly scratches his head. “so do i make the first move or—”

“you’re such an idiot. just kiss me, ‘toru.”

he snickers, and after what seemed like forever, gojo leans in for a kiss.

he was so pretty, he didn’t even have to try. long fluttering lashes that matched his snowy white strands flap closed. gojo tasted sweet, the moment his lips went against yours, you sink into his embrace. he was surprisingly a good kisser, not that you ever kissed your best friend or anything—but for some reason, it felt so warm.

so natural…

your heart, it starts to pick up a bit and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders.

gojo let off a soft grunt, your sweet aromatic perfume wafts right into his flared up nostrils. you shiver a bit, feeling his hands slowly drag up your body. minty, a good way to describe the brief taste that loiters on his breath. he was always chewing peppermint—an unserious guy with a sweet tooth, although this time maybe his sweet tooth was for you instead of casual sweets.

the kiss was passionate, you almost forgot you were literally making out with your best friend.

you did dream a bit about this moment, him holding you all close with his lips mashed against yours. his hand continue to wander, such big hands compared to yours. you slide your tongue against his before parting your lips just a bit further.

“….mhm,” he’d huff out in a muffled groan, and he made sure to focus his hands near your hips. his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your dress before he gives it a hasty yank.

steamy breaths collide against each other whilst each second passes—eventually, gojo’s leading you toward your bedroom.

no bother in asking you where everything was since he technically knew the layout of your house like the back of his hand. “wanted to do this for so long,” he finally speaks in shortened breaths—he’s panting, and you let off a soft gasp once he lifts you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist and he slyly smiles. “you should really clean this place,” he murmurs, walking casually with you in his arms. “oh right, you can’t because you’re always at my house.”

“the point of hooking up is to not talk, satoru.”

“well excuse me,” he dramatically rolls his eyes.

at first you were a bit shy coming to the bitter realization that you ended up matching with gojo by pure luck. by now, things weren’t even that awkward—or at least awkward yet…

you didn’t wanna jinx it though, he leads you towards your bed before you plop down on your hands. you sit down, staring up at him and he starts to pull up his grey sweatshirt. you watch intensely, his abs peeking as he yanked it off before you spot a glance of his dark blue boxers hiding above his sweatpants.

so attractive . . .

you’ve seen gojo shirtless countless times but never completely nude. just imagining him, his glistening body presenting itself right in front of you… phew.

you intake a breath, mentally preparing yourself.

“awh,” he sneers, and you’re so secluded into your erotic thoughts that you don’t even realize he’s practically half naked now. all that was left was his wan-colored sweatpants. he was a tease, your eyes fixate towards his ripped chest—his abs, they were sublimely sculpted and chiseled.

sharp.

you felt like if you ran a finger down his perfectly structured v-line, you’d get a paper cut. his six pack flexed and you had to squeeze your legs shut. it was no surprise gojo had a daily work out routine. he’d even try to drag you to come with him sometimes. majority of the time, that’d go to no avail though. “enjoying the show, yeahhh?”

“shut up.” you grouse with a swift eye roll.

a smug grin curls up against his pink lips before he grabs your hand. “wanna feel me?” and you’re confused by what he wants you to feel until he makes you slowly slide your hand down his clenched pecs. you peer up at him, his body feels so warm— it was brick hard, exactly how you thought. your fingers continued to run down his ripped modeled chest before feeling against a scar. “cute fingers,” he teases, making it trail lower and lower until you spot his happy trail that was just about poking above from the very hem of his boxers. “you should pull them off of me.”

“fine,” you mutter with a puffy blow, bringing both hands towards his lower half. gojo stares, watching you pull down his sweatpants— then his briefs. you made sure to take your time, tugging on the stretchy aqua-blue fabric before within seconds, his length springs out. “you weren’t lying.”

“hm?” he says, watching your eyes continue to wander — he was definitely big, your memory suddenly refreshes of the pictures you exchanged with him, and the carpets very much did match the drapes. his shaft was . . turgid, at least the tip was. it was a pretty flashing pink, smeared with a few droplets of his own pre-cum. gojo was well trimmed, but had a few left over white specks scattered all across his base. he even had a cute mole down near the very edge of his length. specks of white hairs near his happy trail decorated his body, it was attractive. he had a left curve too, it was quite noticeable—a strikingly long vein that pulses at the sight of you, running down the very middle part of his dick and you merely moan.

as you move yourself closer, he’s stood standing while you’re sat on the bed and your glossy lips give his swollen tip a few chaste kisses.

“damnnnn,” he pants, feeling his cock twitch from the way your lips made instant contact with his tip.

the more you stared at his length from your peripherals—the more you observed its color. it had a rich rosy tan. slightly—still the same pinkish color with a brief tapered ridge. he was hefty, there was no question. inch after inch, he stood tall right in front of you. gojo claws a hand into your hair softly before sucking in his breath. “baby wait, i wanna do everything. ‘m already hard.”

you hum, amused—giving his frenulum a subtle lick before backing away, jibing out a, “oh really?” and then once he makes you lie back against the bed, you sit up with a sly grin. “do you even know how to eat pussy? and i’m not just talking about from your 'experience' from reddit or twit—”

“girl shut up,” his tone pitches an octave and it’s quite funny.

always sassy—you watch as gojo strum his fingers against your dress, taking his precious time to lift it up before feeling against your thighs. so soft, he’s always wanted to feel you—especially right here, take in every part of your curves, your gorgeous physique. his lips form into a cute scowl as he pulls you closer towards him. “i know what i’m doing.”

“yeah you do.” you sing along, and he shoots you a pout. you loved the banter between the two of you, toying along with him—he always made it so easy. it doesn’t take long before he starts peeling off your fishnets with his teeth, it was so dirty. you felt yourself throb a bit, edges of his teeth softly pricking against your skin as he yanks the thin nylon material made fishnets that stuck against your thighs.

your back lies flat against the bed and you intake a single breath. gojo rubs a hand against your tummy, you quaver a bit simply from his touch. he’s keeping eye contact the entire time too, irises never looking away for a split second—he mimics the same motion, peeling your panties off with his pearly canines.

it’s lewd, he doesn’t even pull them off all the way. instead, he just leaves it on you but has it rolled down to your thighs. “lotta back talk for a girl this soaked, to be honest.”

“ . . . . ”

you don’t reply, and he chuckles to himself. he finds your lack of an answer quite cute.

gojo stares between your parted thighs and your lips were all stretched—glistening with a sheet coat of your sweet arousal.

“so pretty,” he coos in a low voice, and you watch as he leans in—pressing a soft kiss against your entrance. immediately, his lips gets all shimmery from your own wetness and it’s hot. gojo purposely runs his tongue against his lips because he knows you’re staring directly at him. “my best friend tastes soooo sweet.”

“quit talking, ‘toru.” you moan and you don’t realize how your voice is becoming more and more shaky by the second.

“fine. fiiiiine, can’t have shit,” he grumbles playfully.

you stare as he prods two lengthy fingers against your slit. with a gulp, you prepare yourself. he gradually starts to insert two fingers inside, curling them up whilst it adapts to your warm walls and his arm shakes. “oooooh,” he whispers in a mere raspy voice. sweetened squelchy squelches came from your cunt and it was so loud it rang throughout your ears like church bells on a wedding day. “she’s quite— the talker, huhh.” he continues, and that’s right when he places his lips against your folds.

you swallow, feeling your back immensely arch from his hot lips.

gojo’s tongue swipes against your pussy. the middle part of his tongue skims down and it feels so good, he’s slow at first. he knows the exact direction to go and your toes curl. a free hand of his slides near your pubic mound, applying just the right amount of pressure—he does this so you can quickly feel your sweet g-spot. you do, and a gasp leaves your lips, it’s mindblowing.

already, he made you feel your forbidden g-spot.

you didn’t even know gojo—your dumb best friend had this kind of experience. as his palm presses down against the particular spot, his other hand is still occupied. lengthy fingers curl all throughout your walls, reaching every spot by prodding with just the right amount of deepness.

“f-fuckkk,” you whine, and suddenly your nerves make you shift your attention back towards his slick tongue. as his tongue was lolled out, a pretty clean pinkish tongue. he slithers it by using the back of his tongue, merely copying a sort of vacuuming type technique. the sounds that ran out his mouth was so filthy, your thighs start to twitch profusely and your hands found its way into his hair.

“s—satoruuu.” you’d babble and its only been a few minutes. a few long minutes, your squirming was cute to him. you tried focusing on your breathing patterns but that was no use. your mind went blank, empty like a canvas.

“mhm,” he groans, feeling himself get hard simply from your pitchy moans that reverberate and bounce across the thin walls. his fingers still went in and out of your cunt at a decent thrusting pace. the way you easily swallowed his two digits was just perfect, it didn’t take long at all for him to find your clit. “there she isssss,” he hisses cheekily, changing up his tongue strokes just a bit. it felt so good, heavenly. the way he drags it against your pussy. your jaw hung open with only sweetened sobs and whimpers leaving right past your spit-glossed lips.

whilst he’s rummaging through your vulva, he occasionally breaks away to spit right onto your cunt. it was no surprised gojo satoru was a messy man. he couldn’t help it, he’s fantasized about this exact scenario maybe once or twice. as his saliva trickles between your slit, he grunts as he watches. just all sopping wet just for him. he blows against your entrance just to make you squirm even more.

with his fingers still buried into your cunt, he does the ‘come here’ motion—a simplistically erotic motion where he uses not one but both index and his middle finger to flick back and forth inside of you. right there, oh you could have came.

“o-oh my goddd,” you whimper, his warm breath colliding against your arousal. “i-i’m close, satoru. think ‘m getting close.”

“aw,” he purrs in a sweet tone, using the flat of his tongue to lap up against your clit even further. you’re so soaked—his chin starts to drip with your slick and it’s so attractive. he pulls himself back to grin at you, a dumb pussy-drunken smile and nothing but your slick arousal running down his chin, so sheeny. “suck a little harder, she says?”

you nod, although you were sure your inevitable orgasm was quickly approaching.

your favorite part was when he sucks deeply against your clit, practically tongue fucking you. he had quite a long tongue so it did wonders, it made sure to reach every particular crevice imaginable. “nah don’t run from me now, gorgeous,” he utters sweetly once you squirm a bit more—he grabs on your hips, removing his two fingers just to hold you steadily in place. “give it to me, baby. show me how much of a messy girl my best friend can really be, huh.”

his dirty talk was just the icing on the cake. gojo’s just coaxing you towards your incoming release, all the while—it felt so good. the way your legs quavered, a trembling mess.

gojo’s holding your jerking hips against his mouth so he doesn’t miss a single taste. your mouth forms into a surprised 'o' and it’s like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment—to be fair, he could have just asked a long time ago.

he was shy though, he didn’t wanna ruin the friendship—yet now that he’s propped up between your legs, eating you out like a starved man, you don’t know how you could continue to be just friends. not in a negative way, but after this—every time you’d stare at gojo, you’d just see his face that was right between your legs that one friday night ago.

once your orgasm comes, you whimper out— a ripple surging out of you and you’re so squirmy.

it was so intense, you fell into a trance, feeling that familiar spark combust and you’re slump back. your maw still hangs open and you’re so cute—only inaudible whimpers, cacophonies of his name, the repetitive whiney, “s—satoru, ‘toru.”

his nose brushes against your entrance before he pulls away—he grows quiet for a brief moment before sitting up, you’re out of breath before he leans in for a kiss. you moan right into his mouth, running a finger down his cute undercut and that makes him whine into your mouth. his undercut, he’s always liked the feeling of you running a finger down there—it hypnotized him in a way, the entire scene was so salacious. tasting yourself on his damp tongue, your legs wrapped around his waist and his dick brushes against your parted legs.

“you’re not that bad of a kisser, you know.” gojo mutters as he finally breaks away—a stringy shiny trail of spit departs and he sits up. “why can’t we do this more often?”

“you never ask,” you breathe, still getting over your recent release—he talks so much, you almost forgot how much of a blabbermouth he was. literally seconds ago his face was buried between your thighs and now he’s rambling to you about a sale he spotted on one of his favorite candies. “. . yeah yeah, lie back now.”

he lies back against the bed and watches as you make your way towards him. he lands backwards with an ‘oof’ before raising his eyebrows in amusement. “oh? you’re gonna be on top? what if i wanted to have you bent over—”

“i’d rather die than let you see me arched over.”

“heh, woah now angel—that’s just mean. after i gave you that teeth shattering orgasm,” he says with a dramatic eye roll. you align yourself with gojo, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and for a concise moment he grows quiet. “hm. don’t really care though, you’re still hot. straddling me like this and—”

you lean forward, silencing him with a kiss because he just wouldn’t stop talking—it was cute in a way though, gojo would literally talk your ear off. he kisses back immediately, feeling you hover against his leaky tip before lowering yourself further and further down. “mhm,” you’d gasp at the current stretch. it was hard to ignore, he was big—no secret about that. due to how sopping you were, it made it easy to just sink right down. gojo’s jaw tightens as he brings a hand towards your waist, another near your ass. with a tight squeeze, he continues to fall into sinful bliss at your cunt holding him hostage. your walls hugged him tightly the more you sank down. his breath was heavy, he heaved and heaved before you’re finally all the way down.

parting away once more, he utters out a needy, “touch me.”

“ask nicely,” you whisper, starting to rock your hips swiftly in place—you were so hot, especially in his eyes. you’re so warm inside, feverish, tingly. gojo swallows thickly, a breath getting caught in his throat as his white lashes flicker towards your waist. you brush a thumb against your best friend’s lips before humming. “touch me pretty please, say that.”

“how about i tell you a joke—” he cuts off, yet moans once he feels you grind your hips in a specific rotation—so good. he’s at a loss of words before his eyebrows curl up and furrow, head throwing back in pleasure. “heh. uh, check, please! know what’s on the m-menu? me ‘n you.”

“…………………..”

“…..you’re right, i should just shut up,” he puffs out, his cheeks burning with such heat. he holds onto your hips before he swallows his pride, speaking in a cute pout whilst avoiding eye contact. “touch me pretty please.”

you smile, trading a finger down his chiseled chest—so muscular, he was perfectly sculpted.

his loved your touch, it makes him ten times harder. your fingers roam against his body and he merely folds into putty, his abs—they clench as you’re being stuffed by full of his thick inches. gojo made sure to go slow, he didn’t wanna hurt you—especially considering how big and how much of a damn packer he was. so big you almost drooled.

he was mesmerized by the way you moved, with a single pivot of your hips it didn’t take long for him to locate that spot. you moaned, feeling a surge of haziness overtake you before you lean in to kiss near the crook his neck.

“man,” he croaks, and each time he speaks—his voice gets more raspy and out of breath. “uh, keep ridin’ me like that ‘n i’m gonna die. your pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous—shit.”

again, he rambles while you’re riding him in the same constant rotation. he falls in love with the jerks, the way you grind and delve your hips even further into him.

it’s amusing to study his facial expressions though, the way his blue irises would roll back into the very depths of his cranium—his pink sheeny lips parting, even his irregular breathing patterns. he was so whiney, your cunt swallowed him whole and he starts to feel fuzzy. hot, you felt so hot inside. it merely gives him whiplash once he feels your hands trail up toward his chest. his chest, more so his pecs—abs, his nipples.

“s-sensitive there…” he pants, and with his same grip against your hips he drags you closer—back and forth, it was so slow. you’re grinding against his body and he thinks he’s feeling a certain type away. you know, that word. this entire view, seeing you top him like this—gojo was about to lose his mind, a fiery sensation pools low into his abdomen. you had him all hot and bothered, it didn’t take long before his thigh starts to bounce.

“are you?” you tease, leaning in to run your tongue against his perky nipples—oh, his reaction. it was priceless, he grips onto your hair this time, moving a few strands away from your face while you’re still riding him before he whimpers. with shaky lips, he begs for you to suck harder. you didn’t even know if he was into something like this, perhaps your best friend was a freak.

a freak in bed.

you wondered if he’d be like this if he got matched with some other random girl on tinder. being this whiney for them, but since you two were close maybe you had an exception.

“angelllll,” he drags out his words, and it’s cute. his tongue rolls a bit and beads of sweat start to race down the side of his forehead. “i’m gonna—”

suddenly, he grows quiet once his cock that was buried into your folds abruptly slips out.

he slowly looks up at you with a head tilt, and you’re staring right back up at him—he’s still panting with his hands attached to your hip. “oops,” he sheepishly laughs, trying to ignore how he was so close to shooting right inside of you. it squelched, you break away from his chest before kissing near his neck. he moans, aligning himself back against your entrance. “f-fuck that was kinda hot.”

“i can’t tell who sounds like the girl more,” you start to pant yourself, and you feel yourself coming close right with him—you briefly bite your lip before feeling such nerves sneak its way inside. his girth, it never failed to leave you speechless. with gojo, he was a bit thick but more so lanky—thin, yet he made sure to reach every crevice of your cunt. you felt him deep, the more his hold against your hips tighten—the more he’s pumping you full. you’re constantly leaning forward, cupping his face before sneaking a few kisses near the corners of his lips.

“shut up,” he rasps, and he’s close. you’re about to milk him dry—his breathing picks up and he presses his fingers right into your hips. strands of his hair runs through his face before he whines, head throwing back in pure bliss. “god, you do it so good—so good, ‘m gonna cum,” and then with pretty hooded eyes, he swallows before reaching between your legs. he runs a hand against your sopping wet cunt that was a sheer mess itself before sighing lowly, “where do you want it, angel? tell me if i should—”

“inside,” you whisper, and your voice was so close up to his ear that he could have just came from your voice and your voice alone. shivers ran through his body, your chest presses against his and he’s maneuvering quicker circles against your pussy. “f-fuck, ‘toru. ‘m gonna cum too.”

his ruffled hair was all in his face, it was cute. you’re being stuffed full—he’s so hefty you’re dizzy, approaching that release before seconds pass and you gush out. it comes out slow, a shockwave ripples out and you whimper—softly nibbling your teeth deep into the inside of his neck.

“oh f—fuckkk,” he babbles, and his voice ends up cracking, its adorable. both of his ears burn with radiating heat before he finishes, dumping a sloppy load of velvety ropes into your cunt. you literally did milk him, you bring your hips to a more slow stop—deeply grinding against him still and he slumps back. he pours so much into you he’s speechless himself, a hand hooked around your waist as you continue to swivel. “i just— i need you—shitttt.”

you stare at gojo and he’s all dumb, panting heavily. his chest heaves and tightens, loving the warmth of your plush thighs wrapping around him. “i.. i think i love you,” he abruptly says, and with his tone—it’s like in more of a question, he watches your shocked stare peer into him and he sighs. “i don’t wanna use dinder anymore, i— i just want you.”

“it’s called tinder, satoru,” you kiss near the side of his lip. “and i love you too, dummy.”

“really?” he looks at you, still smothered with a look of fatigue—he could go for more rounds but he needed a minute—plus he may or may not have a cramp in his leg. “soo when’s the wedding then?”

you deadpan and he sheepishly smiles at you, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist.

the feeling of gojo’s remains of cum just seeping down your thighs as you straddled him—still with his twitching shaft inside made you kiss your teeth a little. “i’m sure you’ll get cold feet, you’re scared of literally anything.”

“pft. girl, that’s not even remotely true. do you realize who you’re talking to?”

the arrogant gojo came back — you roll your eyes and he slyly grins, yet all the meanwhile he’s holding you close against your chest. you let him kiss you once more before you both pull away once his phone suddenly beeps.

a loud screeching notification . . you were assuming it was a text. he feels you shift a bit, turning to see what it was but pulls you closer towards him, deepening the kiss. you give up, locking your arms around him once more, preparing to start up your hips again.

oh, he tastes candied, sweet…

you moan straight into his mouth before the phone ends up beeping again and again.

consistently until it starts to get annoying, gojo grunts, departing from your honeyed lips. “who’s texting me, angel? thought i turned tinder notifications off.”

you grab his phone, it brights up from your fingertips hovering against the screen before you squint. “uh, it says . . . suguru geto?”

he repeats. “suguru ge—” and then he timorously runs a hand through his hair with a raised eyebrow. “oh. eh, what’d he say?”

you pause for a long moment before reading the message, by long—seven consecutive seconds to be exact, your lip twitching, slowly realizing as you skim through the text by this ‘suguru geto.’

“. . . he says that he had fun last night.”

“oh!”

#★vegasbaby. #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jjk fic #jjk x reader smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #cw sex mention

[ilycosy]

❝ PERFECTION ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary — being a child of aphrodite deems you perfect from the moment you get claimed, the expection of complete and utter perfection can weigh down on somebody. somehow, a simple hermes boy reaches all those expectations without even trying.

warnings : hurt/comfort but it's platonic , this takes place in noted , luke is a cocky dumbass & reader is heavily implied to be autistic

aﾉn — first fic for noted !! the smau is being worked on l8r since im a little exhausted n not feeling well again but , i have this to hold u guys over <3 + some smut in drafts :33 every1 say thank u kai for proofreading this <33 @grsveyrrd

you couldn't remember the last time you felt at ease, being at camp always got your blood pumping and the rush of adrenaline in your veins. even being a daughter of aphrodite, stereotypically dainty, you still felt that rush for glory.

you couldn't ever express that need for it though, as camp counselor, you were always expected to guide younger campers into their quests and their own legacy while ignoring your own. it seemed that you were the only one held to that expectation though, clearly shown by hermes cabin.

luke castellan, son of hermes. god of messaging and traveling, he always seemed to be on the move— talking idly with anyone who will listen, overall somebody who people can look up to.

not you though, you couldn't help but resent him. his overly confident smile and cute head tilt, not to mention how he's always winning every sword fight he's ever been in. he'd say something stupid like 'perks of being the best in the last three-hundred years', and then your eyeroll would just fuel his ego.

perfection was expected at camp, from everybody. being the pride of the gods was almost unachievable, almost.

you and luke had always seemed to never get along, most played it off as playful banter but you both knew it was something more. you just couldn't stand each other, no matter how hard you both tried.

he was just easily amazing at everything he does, seemingly rushing into things without thinking and winning. while you were stuck on the opposite team desperately working, never succeeding.

frustration was the worst way to describe it, it barely encompassed everything you felt. "hey," a voice spoke out, sounding raspy from thirst. "luke is wondering where you are, it's almost time for archery."

evan, while not related to you in any way, he was basically your brother. you took a shaky breath as you looked down at the lake, the prickling pain of every sense coming alive at full force now hitting you.

you didn't respond to him, unable to form the words to describe how much you didn't want to face luke and be proved to be a fool again. the metallic clink of evan's armor was heard as he sat down next to you, he was supposed to be at a practice run of capture the flag right now.

"you're skipping practice." you state, your head resting on your legs as you breathe heavy. regulating yourself the way chiron taught you, even though it barely ever worked.

you heard the click of his mouth before he went quiet, drumming his fingers on his knee before speaking. "im helping my sister," he says, scrunching up his nose at the endearment he called you himself. "practice can't wait, besides ill just fall asleep."

you laugh but it hurts, not a good hurt but more of a achey hurt. hurt for the exertion of emotion, hurt that he finds himself useless in an important sport, and hurt that you're failing to meet your obligations for the other campers at archery practice.

evan fills the silence until he can't anymore, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. sometimes you wonder if he's mr. d's son with how he can act so witty and talkative with you, even though he's a hermit around others.

eventually though, his predictions were right. two hours into his talking he begins to lean, falling asleep almost as fast as he began talking. resting his head on your shoulder, his black hair tickling your cheek.

his smell was comforting though, and even though the armor he hadn't shed dug into your side and your stomach as you laid down with him on you— you couldn't imagine trading it.

his light snores and drool seeped into your bright orange shirt, but you ignored it. using his body as a weighted blanket as you looked out into the water, finding the warm sun and soft grass rather comfortable.

you drifted off easily, hypnos taking you under his wing as he allowed you a peaceful sleep. freed from worries and the expectations, he didn't even let you wake when another counselor found you guys.

luke looked down at the two of you in the grass, taking a moment to just be a tired teen with you before gently picking you up. smiling gently at evan's sleepy face before gesturing him to follow him back to the cabins, cradling you maybe a bit too close than he would with others.

but evan wouldn't say anything, the moment was perfect even if you didn't remember it. (he definitely took a picture though).

#cosywriting #notedverse #castellanswrld #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #luke castellan smut

[judysxnd]

Some cute moments with Lando

All those little moments could be separate stories and could be more elaborated. Let me know if you want me do fully write them!

Had this in my drafts for a while, I thought I would add more but I actually didn’t, I know it’s not much but.. yeah, I’m still putting it out 🤷🏻‍♀️

————————————————————————————

number one:

Your both preparing dinner together. Neither of you are great cooks but sometimes you try. You put the tv on, on some music channels. “Gimme love” by Sia came on. You both started to sing and dance. You ended up pausing dinner and dancing in the kitchen.

At the end you said “I missed having you in the kitchen” he had a big smile, giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

“me too, I don’t like being away from you” you blushed as you couldn’t help but smile. You were staring at the food you were preparing, too shy to look at Lando.

number two:

Lando travels a lot, and unfortunately you cannot always be with him. But he never stops thinking about you. He always brings you back little souvenirs. Even when he just wanders in Monaco without you, he always brings you something.

Like one time, you were coming back from work. You were staying at his place for the night. When you came back home, he gave you a small pocket. Inside there was a little scrunchie with little cherries on it. He knows you love scrunchies, and he also knows cherries are your favorite fruits. He always thinks about you, buy you little things because he knows you love it. He loves to spoil you.

number three:

It’s more a heated moment but you found it cute how Lando was desperate for you. You ordered some new set of underwear a week ago and finally received them. You unpacked them but didn’t try them on yet because you had to leave in a few.

So you left them there, totally innocently on the bed, for you once you’ll be back. But Lando came back before you, and he was very (pleased) surprised when he saw what you ordered. That’s when you started to receive a few texts, Lando asking where you were and when you would be back. Once the reason of his impatient texts was revealed, he kept begging you to come back quickly.

“I can pick you up” he even texted

“and what about my car?” you responded

“We’ll get it later” he answered

He was eager to have you back home so that you could try the undies before he took them off of you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his behavior. After dating him for a while, nothing ever changed, he was still so obsessed with you, as much as you were with him. And let me tell you that once you were back, oh boy, it got very heated.

#fanfic #imagine #oneshot #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfiction #lando fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you

[fiveht]

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?" 

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

#and i disappear into the night once again #turned off anon asks for the time being #sorry i love you guys i'm just awkward

[cosmicanakin]

i only have eyes for you.

adult content | minors do NOT interact

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. your feelings for vinnie resurface after years of denying them. a confession and passionate moment change everything, but dating publicly would bring unexpected reactions your love must withstand.

contains. angst, internalized anxiety, stress, uncertainty, references to past rejection, toxic fans, social media influence, alcohol use, marijuana use, & brief mentions of smut.

authors note. this wip has been sitting in my drafts since nov. it was because i didn't like how it was written but whatever!

you took a long drag from the joint, holding the smoke in your lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly. leaning against the railing of the balcony, you gazed out at the party unfolding in the yard below. lights danced around as people mingled and laughed together, lost in the warmth of the summer night.

beside you, your friend maddy plucked the joint from between your fingers and brought it to her lips. “so,” she said, breathing out a cloud of smoke, “what's really going on with you and vinnie?”

you sighed, reaching up to idly twist a strand of hair around your finger. “it’s complicated.”

maddy arched an eyebrow. “come on, girl. spill the tea. i know something’s been off between you two lately.”

for a few moments you didn’t respond, mulling over how to explain the tangled mess of feelings you'd been wrestling with for over three years now. ever since you first met vinnie at a meet-up for social media influencers, there had been an undeniable spark of attraction. he was smart, funny, and genuinely kind in a way that was rare in your line of work. over countless collaborations and late-night talks, your friendship blossomed into something deep and profound.

but there was always an underlying hesitation, a lingering question neither of you fully voiced - what would happen if things shifted from friendship to something more? vinnie was one of the biggest names in the influencer world, with millions of devoted fans on every platform. his followers were fervently protective of him, and the idea of a potential girlfriend stirred up their jealousy. you hadn’t wanted to put him in that position or deal with the backlash yourself.

a flash of memory cut through your thoughts - a party not unlike this one a year ago, where you and vinnie had both had too much to drink. in a private moment away from prying eyes, he’d confessed his feelings and leaned in for a kiss. but you’d panicked and pulled away, stammering some excuse about not wanting to complicate your friendship any further. the hurt on his face haunted you for weeks after.

things had been awkward and stilted between you ever since. even though you missed his friendship dearly, you had distanced yourself to avoid facing the raw emotions still simmering under the surface. the same painful longing lingered in his eyes whenever you were together by chance at events like tonight.

you sighed again, passing the dwindling joint back to maddy. “i think i’m in love with vinnie,” you admitted softly. “have been for a long time. but i was too scared to admit it.”

before maddy could respond, the glass door behind you slid open with a rattle. “well isn’t this a party,” came a familiar voice rich with amusement.

you froze, stomach dropping as vinnie sauntered onto the balcony with his friend jordan in tow. heart thudding, you took in his windswept hair and lazy smile, eyes lingering on the tantalizing strip of toned abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. even after all this time, his natural charm and good looks still made your insides twist pleasantly.

“hope we’re not interrupting girl time,” jordan said, reaching to yank the joint from maddy’s hold and take a hit.

“not at all,” maddy shrugged, meeting your gaze meaningfully. you shot her a pleading look, silently begging her not to spill what you’d just admitted. thankfully, she took the hint.

an awkward silence fell as the four of you forced small talk, dancing around the suffocating tension hanging thick in the air. you could feel vinnie’s gaze burning into your skin but didn’t dare meet it, keeping your eyes trained downwards.

after what felt like an eternity, maddy stood and smoothed down her skirt. “jordan, i think i saw some old friends by the pool - wanna go say hi?”

jordan seemed bemused by her sudden eagerness but didn’t protest. with a quick wave, the two of them slipped back inside, leaving you alone with vinnie for the first time in over a year. your heart was now pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it.

the silence stretched on, heavy with everything left unsaid between you. finally, vinnie spoke up softly. “are you ever going to tell me what actually happened that night?”

you chanced a glance at him, taking in his imploring eyes and the rawness of his expression. all the tangled emotions you’d tried to bury for so long welled up inside you, spilling uncontrollably into the truth. “i was scared,” you confessed in a small voice. “i care about you so much, vinnie, but i didn’t want to deal with the backlash if we got together. your fans can be so cruel, and i didn't want to put you through that.”

vinnie’s face fell. “so you pushed me away to...protect me? is that what you’re saying?”

you nodded miserably. “i know it was shitty of me. i should have been honest instead of shutting you out. it’s just...easier to avoid all the drama, you know? we work so well as friends.”

“is that still how you feel?” vinnie asked quietly, taking a measured step towards you.

you closed your eyes, heart in your throat. in a strained whisper, you said, “no, that's not how i feel. not anymore.”

vinnie reached out tentatively, cupping your cheek to turn your face towards his. “hey...look at me.”

reluctantly, you met his gaze. the tender understanding in his eyes made the dam finally break, tears welling uncontrollably. “i’m so sorry. i’m such a fucking coward. the truth is...i think i’m in love with you too.”

in an instant his arms were around you, pulling you close against the solid strength of his chest. you clung to him fiercely as all the pent up emotion came crashing down - grief for the wasted time, fear of opening your heart, and overwhelming relief at finally being honest. vinnie held you through it, stroking your hair softly and murmuring gentle reassurances until your tears subsided.

when you pulled back, his thumb brushed delicately under your eyes to wipe away the lingering moisture. “you don't have to be afraid anymore,” he said, cupping your face entreatingly. “i don’t care what anyone says. i just want you, okay?”

heart in your throat, you nodded. vinnie’s eyes shone with an intensity you’d never seen before as he slowly lowered his head. when his lips met yours it was warm, deep, and tasting faintly of beer and promises. you kissed him back fervently, pouring all the pent up longing of three years into the moment. his hands roamed your sides eagerly, holding you flush against him as if terrified to let go again.

when you finally parted for air, vinnie rested his forehead against yours, grinning broadly. “so does this mean you’ll be my girl?”

you couldn't help matching his smile, ecstatic joy bubbling up inside you. “yes,” you breathed, cupping his jaw to place another ardent kiss on his lips. “i want to be yours, vin.”

his responding smile was dazzling. taking your hand in his, vinnie leaned down to discard the abandoned half-smoked joint. “come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, threading his fingers through yours and tugging you towards the door.

you followed willingly, heart soaring as vinnie led you through the pulsing party. his bedroom door clicked shut behind you, muffling the sounds of revelry below. alone together at last with nothing left unsaid, you gave in fully to the passion and promise of the night.

vinnie’s kiss seared away any lingering hesitation, hands wandering eagerly as you grazed your palms over his lean torso, still hard despite the late hour. with a gentle nudge, he laid you back against his pillows, lavishing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the sensitive skin of your neck. you sighed blissfully, carding your fingers through his soft curly hair.

his lips were warm and soft, his tongue teasing the shell of your ear, and you shivered with delight. “i love you,” he whispered, voice husky. “i’ve loved you from the moment i first met you.” you smiled into his hair, fingers twining in it.

“i love you too, vinnie.” he grinned, his eyes shining. “then why are we still wearing clothes?” he rolled off you, sitting up to peel off his shirt. you followed suit, tossing yours aside as he pulled off his jeans.

you watched him, breathless, as he stood before you, naked. he was beautiful, every inch of him, and you couldn't wait to explore. you sat up, pulling off your panties, then reached for him, tugging him closer.

you kissed him again fervently, and he moaned into your mouth, his hands roaming over your body. you broke away, eyes dark with desire, and slid your hand between his legs, wrapping your fingers around his hard cock. he gasped, thrusting into your grip.

“oh, fuck, yes,” he groaned, leaning forward to kiss you again. you quickly broke away, a wicked smile playing on your lips, and stood up. you straddled him, lowering yourself onto his waiting cock, sighing with pleasure as he filled you completely.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he murmured, cupping your ass as you rocked your hips against him. your fingers tangled in his hair as you rode him, harder and faster, until you both cried out in ecstasy, collapsing against each other.

you lay there, breathing heavily, his arms wrapped around you. “that was amazing,” you panted. “you’re amazing,” he replied, kissing your neck. you smiled, snuggling closer. “i love you,” you whispered, and he smiled.

“i love you too, baby.”

you fell asleep, content and happy, knowing that you had found the one person who understood you better than anyone else.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚ #vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vhackerr #vinnie smut #vinnie angst #vinnie fluff #vinnie hacker x female reader #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagine

[loveswrites]

Pumpkins Please Billy Loomis x Stu Marcher x reader

Pumpkins Please Billy x Reader x Stu

Word count: 1397

Time it Took me: 1 hours 30 mins

To my loves: It was so obvious that stu and billy would win for our celebration of 300 followers! I wrote it that same night so I've had it in my drafts for 6 days now. I was thinking if I should wait till the poll ended but we reached over 300 followers before it even did, So here you go loves! Enjoy! Thank you for the support. It makes me so happy you guys enjoy my writing as it is all I want to do in life.

Love <3

“I wanna carve a pumpkin.” You pouted.

“Why don’t we just crave someone up instead.” Billy smirked playing with the tip of his knife. 

“I already have the pumpkins at my house. You wanna carve em here or there?” Stu said dropping himself on the bed making you and Billy shake with the bed. 

“You didn’t tell me you bought pumpkins.” Billy said, narrowing his eyes at Stu.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” Stu laughed out.

“Yes.” You and Billy said in unison. 

Stu started to laugh but slowly stopped when he realized you and Billy were not joking. 

“I just thought I should have them at the house since you know it is halloween. You know our favorite holiday.” Stu said, looking in between you and Billy.

“It’s not my favorite holiday mine is-”

“Christmas.” The two boys groaned, making you smile.

“The moment September 1st came along you were running around here yelling out ‘It’s christmas!’” Billy mocked you but you could see the slight smile in his cheeks as he recalled the memory. 

“It’s a lovely holiday, what can I say?” You smiled rubbing your socks together. 

Billy stroked the sides of your waist with his knife sending a shiver down your spine. He did this often. To both you and Stu. Still would often get cut most of the time cause he'd always laugh or move too much. But you trusted Billy to never leave a mark on you and he never did. Never has. 

Billy had three favorite things. His knives. His girl. And his best friend.

“Do we have to go to school tomorrow?” You questioned as Stu rubbed your legs while he stared up at the ceiling.

“You wanna skip again? Something on your mind, pretty girl?” Stu questioned. 

“Is someone bothering you? I can handle that, you know.” Billy said with stern eyes as he watched you respond.

“No no none of that I’m fine and no ones bothering me. I just don’t want to go and talk to people you know?” You said, stressed by the thought of even being in that building. 

“When do your parents get back in town?” Billy asked, putting his knife on your nightstand after taking one last long drag against your skin that sent tingles throughout your body.

Your parents had left for a business trip so you invited your two boyfriends to keep you company because why not? They weren’t doing anything before you called anyways.

“Sometime next week. It might get extended depending on some things. They told me I could go with them as always but I wanted to stay.” You said snuggling into Billy’s side.

“I would’ve left. No school and a free trip as a replacement sounds fun right about now.” Stu said, making you smile knowing that he wouldn’t just leave. He’d make sure that you and Billy were able to come as well. No matter if he wanted to admit it or not Stu couldn’t live without Billy nor you. 

Looking up at Billy who had his eyes closed you know he couldn’t live without you or Stu also. He wouldn’t admit it but he shows his love in crazy ways. Rather that’s spray painting the sides of buildings to pulling pranks on literally anybody to actual crimes. Billy has killed for you and Stu. If someone hurt one of you two you either never saw them again or saw them in the news the next day. Same if it was reversed with Stu but Stu doesn’t really clean his tracks very well so it’s mostly just Billy. 

You wondered if loving them made you a bad person. You wondered if keeping their victims a secret made you a murder. You wondered if not feeling a drop of remorse made it seem like you have the knife in your hand. 

But at the end of the day you didn’t really care because at the end of these dark sad thoughts all you saw was Billy and Stu. The two crazy boys who were in love with you. The two boys who showed you the world and would kill anyone who got in the way of your happy fairytale. You just prayed that they wouldn’t be the one to ruin your love story. 

You woke up the next morning feeling relaxed and refreshed. This made you just up and check the time. 1:24 pm. Shit you thought I missed damn near all of school. Rubbing your eyes you noticed that your bed was empty. Where did they go? Getting out of your bed you walked downstairs. Hearing voices, you followed them to the kitchen.

“Dumbass! the butter goes first, did you not read the box?” Billy snapped hitting Stu in the back of his head with said box. 

“You didn’t say that!” Stu said, trying to defend himself as he wiped his cheek leaving some flour in its place making you smile. 

“Maybe if you looked at the box I wouldn’t have to say it!” Billy fussed back. Stu opened his mouth to say something but that's when you decided to make yourself known.

“So are you two gonna bicker all day or tell me what you're doing?” You questioned walking fully into the kitchen.

“Baking you some cookies. Again..” Stu said, making you frown your eyebrows.

“Again?” You questioned.

“Stu burned the first batch.” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

“I did not! They just cooked a little bit longer than the rest.” Stu finished.

“Burnt.” You and Billy said in unison. That was happening a lot more often than usual. 

“We just wanted to do something nice for you before you woke up.” Stu said sneezing all over the batter when he rubbed flour on his face.

“What the fuck Stu!” Billy yelled while you just turned your nose up at the fact that he just sneezed on the batter.

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry. Like at all. I just wanna carve pumpkins okay? That’s it.” You said shifting your eyes between Billy and Stu.

“I’ll go get the pumpkins then.” Stu said starting to move, making you and Billy scream out ‘No!’.

“No! I’ll do it,  just stay here.” Billy said, shaking his head as he walked past you but not before giving you your ‘morning kiss’.

“You keep touching me I’m gonna throw pumpkin guts all over you.” You yelled out. Stu’s elbow kept touching yours as he attempted to show you how to carve your pumpkin.

“I’m trying to help you! You're doing it all wrong, trust me I do pumpkins.” Stu stated as if he was some kind of Pumpkin master.

“You do pumpkins?” You laughed out, tightening the grip on the knife in your hand.

“Shut up if I did you’d be jealous of the pumpkin.” Stu said, rolling his eyes. 

“As if, Who wants to sleep with you?” You questioned going back to cutting your pumpkin.

“You!” Stu said laughing as if that was the funniest thing in the world.

“Only on holidays.. Billy gets Monday through friday.” You said poking your tongue out at Stu to which he leaned in and bit your tongue making you jump back squealing in surprise. 

“Good thing Halloween is coming up.” Stu grinned. 

“Billy, he bit me!” You pointed at Stu with the knife in your hand. Billy pointed down to your pumpkin that was hanging on for dear life. 

“You need help, you keep cutting it like that there's not gonna be any pumpkin left.” Billy said, smirking, making Stu laugh.

“Shut up, it's perfectly fine.” You said going back to cutting pieces of the pumpkin.

“As if.” Stu snickered, earning a handful of pumpkin guts to the face.

“Hey!” Stu yelled out. 

“That’s what you get your lucky I didn’t throw the whole pumpkin!” You yelled.

“What pumpkin?!” Stu yelled back making you gasp.

“Billy!” You yelled.

“God.” Billy said, holding his head in his hands still with the knife in his hand. All he could hear was you two fighting with each other

He was in for a long bumpy ride if he wanted to be with you two forever. But watching the two of the most important people in his life bicker made him realize that he would kill any bump in that road to make them happy.  

#loveswrites #x reader #oneshots #scream movie #Scream #reader insert #billy loomis x reader #stu matcher fluff #stu marcher #billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #billy loomis x reader #poly billy and stu #billy x stu #billy x stu x reader

[broodparasitism]

Everything I've Learned About Querying from Talking to Agents (And Traditionally Published Authors)

Disclaimer: I'm UK based, as was everyone I spoke to. I didn't include any country specific advice, just what I think is applicable regardless of where you live, put it might be useful to know this is from a UK lens.

As part of my course I was able to go to a lot of talks with literary agents (a mixture of literary, genre and nonfiction) and I picked up a lot of useful information - a lot of it not quite so bleak as I feared! - and thought it might be helpful to compile it for anyone looking to query agents in the future, so, here goes, under the readmore:

Querying

Remember that agents want to find and publish new authors. They're not at odds with/out to get aspiring authors. They want to work with us. This is someone you're working with, so don't pick an agent you won't get along with.

Manuscripts should be queried when they are as close to finished you are able to manage. There are a few agents that are open to incomplete manuscripts, yes, but many more that flat-out refuse unfinished work. Manuscripts generally go through about ~15 rounds of edits before landing an agent.

Send query letters in batches - around five or six at a time. There is no limit to how many agents you can contact, but you can't contact more than one agent from the same agency, so make sure you've selected the most suitable one from each.

In most cases you can't submit the same manuscript to the same agent twice - so having it be as finished as possible is all the more vital.

Some of them will take a long time to respond. Some never respond at all. If it's been three months of nothing, it's safe to assume that's a rejection.

One agent said she took on about two new authors a year, which likely isn't true for them all but is probably a reasonable average. For all of them, the amount of queries they get can be in the three digits a week. I can't emphasis enough just how many they get. I take a lot of authors to mean that means it's a 0.001% chance and despair, but that assumes each manuscript has an equal chance, and they don't. Correct spelling and grammar, writing in a genre that appeals to the agent, quality sample chapters and respecting the submission guidelines (more on this later) improve the odds by a significiant amount.

One agent said he rejected about half of his submissions from the first page due to spelling and grammar mistakes and cliches, for perspective.

You'll need to pitch your book. If your book cannot be pitched in three sentences, that's a sign it has too much going on and you'll need to do some pruning.

Please don't panic if you cannot come up with an accurate pitch for your book on the fly - you're not supposed to be able to do that. A pitch takes many edits and drafts just like a manuscript.

Send your first three chapters and a synopsis (this should be a page, or two pages double spaced. It should not include every single plot point though, again, if major things end up not there at all, question if they're necessary for the manuscript).

Three chapters is the standard - as in, if the agent web page doesn't specify how many, that's what to opt for. If they say anything else, for the love of God listen. If there was a single piece of advice that the agents emphasised above all else, it was to just follow each submission requirement to a T.

There needs to be a strong hook in these chapters. If your manuscript is a bit of a slow burn, that's fine, but you can cheat a bit with a 'prologue' that's actually a very hook-y scene from later on.

Read the agent's bio page throughly and make a note of what they like, who they represent, and what they're looking for, and highlight this in the query letter.

Your query letter has to say a little about you. It doesn't have to be really personal information (but say if you're under 40, because that's rare for authors and they like that), and keep it professional but not stiff, they say. If you have any writing credentials, such as awards won or creative writing degrees, include them, as with any real life experiences that pertains to the content of your book. But no one will be rejected on the basis of not having had an interesting enough life.

Apparently one of the biggest mistakes for debut authors tend to be too many filler scenes.

In terms of looking for comparative titles, think about where you want your book to 'sit'. Often literally - go into bookstores and visualise where on the displays you could see it. It's really helpful if you can identify a specific marketing niche. Though you want to choose comparisons that sell well, but going for really obvious choices looks lazy. A TV or film comparison is fine - as long as it genuinely can be compared.

Do not call yourself the next Donna Tartt. Or JK Rowling. They are sick of this.

Don't trust agents who request exclusive submission.

Or any with a fee. Agents take a percentage of your advance/royalties - you never pay them directly.

In terms of trends (crowd booing), there's been a boom in uplifting, optimistic fiction, but more recently dark fiction has been rising in popularity and looks to have its moment. Fantasy and Gothic are both huge right now. Publishers also love what's called upmarket/book club fiction - books that toe the line between genre and literary.

But publishers aren't clairvoyant and writing to trends is a futile effort, so don't let them shape what you want to write. Some writing advice I got that I loved was to not even THINK about marketability until draft three or four.

If any agent requests your full manuscript - this is crucial - email every other agent you're waiting to hear back from and let them know. This will take your manuscript from the slush pile to the top, and you are more likely to get more offers of representation.

The agent that flatters you the most isn't necessarily the best. Be sure to ask them what their plan for the book is, and what publishers they're planning to send it to - you want them to have a precise vision. It might be that their vision misses the mark on what kind of book you wanted to write, and if so, they aren't the right agent for you.

Research like hell! A good place to start is finding out who represents authors you love (the acknowledgements pages are really helpful here). if you can, getting access to The Writer's and Artist's Yearbook is very helpful, as is The Bookseller, the lattr for checking up on specific agents. (I was warned the website search engine is awful, so google "[name] the Bookseller" to see what they've sold. That said, only the huge deals get reported, so it's not indicative of everyone they take on.

I also want to add Juliet Mushen's article on what makes a good query. I owe a lot to it, and I feel like it's a useful template!

Once Agented

Agents send a manuscript to about 18-25 publishers, typically. Most books will end up having more than one publisher interested.

It can be hard to move genres after publishing a debut novel, especially for book two, not only because it means it takes longer for you to establish yourself, but the agent that may be perfect for dealing with manuscripts for book one might not have the skills for book two.

Ask the agency/publisher about their translation rights, their rights to the US market, and film and TV rights. Ask also what time of year the book is going to come out, if being published.

It's less the book agents are interested in than it is you as an author. You will be asked what you're going to write next, so have an answer. Just an answer - you don't need another manuscript ready to go. One author said she flat-out made up a book idea on the spot, and she got away with it - just have an answer. (This is also useful to put on the query letter.)

Caveat that this is, of course, not a foolproof guide to getting a book deal, nor is it in any way unconditional endorsement of how the industry works - I just thought it would be useful to know.

#writeblr #wtwcommunity #traditional publishing #literary agents #wrting advice #kinda #eta a readmore link

[darklcy]

☆ 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧! 𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ☆

this has been in the drafts for a long, long time and i haven’t posted aot in a while, so enjoy :) | also i feel like some of these may be ooc but this was fun to write! just keep in mind this is how i think they’d act in a modern setting, ofc minus the war & trauma

attack on titan masterlist

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍

skips class to vape

smokes to thundercat & nirvana

flannels flannels flannels

naturally you steal them. acts coy when you do.

“you didn’t steal it, i just let you wear it and didn’t say anything when you went home with it.”

i feel like he’d be into meditating. idk why. like someone said he should do it so now he does a quick 5-min guided meditation every morning

showers with his chain on and gets green neck

doodles on his converse and yours

writes “hi :)” on your homework, journals, notes, etc during class

has a minecraft server w jean, connie and armin

claims he’s not scared of games like outlast or silent hill but everyone knows he’s lying

ends up hiding behind you in haunted houses

LOVES DRIVE THRUS/FAST FOOD. sonic & in n out specifically

toddler sense of humor, like finds things falling over funny (y’all remember the video of the piece of bread falling over-)

doesn’t know how to work pinterest

leans over people’s shoulders to look at their phones

tried getting his cartilage pierced but it got infected

has a few tattoos on his wrists and bicep

will bite you impulsively

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍

you mean my bf

so this boy DOES know how to work pinterest, and has so many boards

one of them is filled w future pets he wants & another one includes house ideas with you :3

is the best language learner and knows french, spanish, and german

can’t watch gory shows like squid game or the walking dead, but enjoys psychological horrors like black swan

has a billion playlists with like 6 songs each

your playlist is titled “lovey” bc i said so

has maybe one lobe piercing. but only one

he goes so hard to TV girl and mac demarco, but also loves singers like sza & jack stauber

LUVS SMOOTHIES

downloaded bumble only for the fun of it once but immediately deleted it when someone liked him

bounces his leg and picks his nails

best. skin. ever. has a good skin care regime

drives a silver toyota prius 

super into journaling & drawing :>

such a gentle bf, but lives for gossip

you text him, “you will NOT believe what i just heard.” and he drops everything he’s doing to respond

coffee dates!!!

you two have a stardew farm together with a dog and a bunch of chickens and cows

his favorite character is crobus

i love him very much

𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐀

hardcore alison from breakfast club vibes

secretly into girl kpop groups

but loves hardcore women, like björk & poppy

definitely owns a lot of platform shoes: has like three pairs of demonias

shaves her brows to draw them on 

loves online shopping from aliexpress & etsy

into weird chunky jewelry!! has a necklace with a heavy cat pendant & a pair of eyeball earrings

loves to do your makeup! if you don’t wear a lot daily, she’ll do something for special outings like concerts or even for fun she’ll ask you to let her do it :3

has a tiktok specifically for ootds

favorite foods include spicy ramen, mediterranean meals & ice cream

i feel like she’d be in art class! she’d draw you random portraits or cute versions of you two to put in her scrapbook

oh yeah i also feel like she’d have a scrapbook!!! and keeps a lot of mementos from your dates/hangouts

when you come over, you, her and eren play mario kart

no doubt a spiritual girly: maybe not super into spells but has a tarot deck and a few oracle decks as well as a beautiful incense burner

you two go to goth clubs cuz yeah

her lipstick gets on you all the time

dressed up as lydia deetz one year for halloween

makes rings and necklaces and gives them to you, and she debates on opening an etsy shop

— hope you enjoyed!

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman #aot armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert

[acciopietro]

Hi, I have a request.

So like Pietro and the reader are in a relationship and Pietro is really insecure about him being not able to give reader enough gifts and attention. (Reader is from a wealthy family)

He's scared that Reader could leave him for a wealthier person than him. Reader reassure Pietro that they won't leave him.

Yea, so angsty & fluff.

The reader can be gender neutral, I don't really care.

Thanks, I love how you write

Have a nice day.

anything from you - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x gn! reader

summary: pietro’s unsure whether or not he’s enough

word count: 1662

tw: no!

a/n: this was such a cute idea! i apologize for how short this is, i'm trying to clear out my drafts LOL! this is unedited so if u see any grammar or spelling mistakes lmk!!!! <3

"I CAN'T ACCEPT THIS," PIETRO'S mouth had fallen agape at the sight of the small box he opened, resting it on his lap. The light flashed off of the glittering silver of the watch inside, it's glass face perfectly clear, so well made that it looked like there was nothing there. "This is... this is very expensive gift."

"You have to accept it," you grinned, shrugging your shoulders. "I saw it and thought you'd like it."

"Yes, and I-- I do, but..." Pietro opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "I have never worn something so expensive before."

"Firsts for everything!" you giggled and gave him a bashful smile. He pursed his lips, melting at the sweetness of your face, and glanced back down at the watch. Your face sunk a bit at his hesitation, and you grabbed the bag that previously held the box. "I can return it, if you don't like it."

"No, I... I love it," Pietro grabbed ahold of your hand, smoothing his thumb over the top of your knuckles before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. "Multumesc, dragă."

---

“AHA!” Pietro mumbled to himself, pulling his hand out from behind the couch cushion of the couch in the Avengers Compound’s foyer, another quarter pinched between his fingers. He was lucky enough to live there and earn a decent wage, but he certainly did not have as much disposable income as say, Tony Stark, or even Y/N L/N. 

“Pietro,” came Wanda’s voice from behind him, her tone slow as though she were confused. He turned his head to see her standing there, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Right now, I am counting,” he said, sitting down and dumping out his pocket, muttering the numbers under his breath. “I have a total of twenty-three dollars and...seventy-three cents. But then once I add the money from my wallet, I’ll have about...”

“What do you need this for?” Wanda sauntered over, sitting across from him and his measly pile of dented dollar bills and dirty coins. Pietro didn’t respond, still counting in his head.

“Sixty-five dollars and eighty-two cents,” Pietro nodded his head, muttering under his breath. “That might be enough...”

“Nice watch,” Wanda complimented. “From Y/N, yes?”

“Yeah,” Pietro muttered, rubbing the band of it with his thumb. “They are very generous.”

“I see.”

“I want to buy them something,” Pietro told his sister. “But... I cannot really afford something very expensive, you know? So maybe something for fifty dollars. Or maybe more, but I... I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you just make them something? Or take them some place nice?”

“I could,” Pietro scratched his chin, dropping his shoulders in exhaustion. “But they’re always buying me things, I feel like I need to return the favor.”

“You don’t owe them anything, though,” Wanda told him gently. “Just because they buy you all these things doesn’t mean you need to buy them things, it just means you need to gift them with other things. Experiences, homemade things... as long as there is love in it, no?”

“I am not wealthy like them,” Pietro sighed. “What if they think I am using them for their money? I need to show them that --”

“They do not think that,” Wanda gave him a gentle look. “They love you, trust me. I was with them when they picked out that watch for you.”

“Yeah, well,” Pietro didn’t have much to say in response to that. “They’d be better off with someone who can afford to take care of them.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Wanda shook her head. “You take care of them just fine.”

“Hmph,” Pietro only shrugged and began to leave the room. “Maybe. But they could do better.”

---

“Wanda?” you said, poking your head into the kitchen. Said woman stood over a steaming pot, stirring the contents with a long wooden spoon. Vision glided into the room, holding onto a container of paprika looking triumphant. 

“Found it!” he said cheerfully. He turned his head and grinned at the sight of you. “Oh, hello, Y/N. Did you want some paprikash?”

“Maybe later, thanks Vision,” you smiled. “Have either of you seen Pietro?”

“Uhm, I’d assume he’d be in his room,” Wanda guessed.

“No, he’s not in there,” you frowned, sitting on one of the bar stools. “I’ve been looking around for him all day. I think he’s avoiding me.”

You knew Wanda and Vision shared a glance, but you were too busy staring down at the ring on your finger to say anything. Pietro had gotten it for you in the early stages of your relationship; you hadn’t the slightest clue where it was from or if the gems were real, but it was beautiful and fit like a glove. That was all that mattered, anyways. You twisted it around on your finger, frowning.

“Did I upset him?” you asked Wanda. “Has he said anything to you?”

Wanda gave a quick, almost unnoticeable glance at Vision. “Erm... he’s not upset at you, no.”

“What is it, then?” you pressed. There was a pregnant pause of silence.

“Look, I think you should talk to him,” Wanda trailed off, her brows slowly raising as she glanced behind you. Vision did nothing, however he was not slick about the way his eyes widened and he mouthed, “Go!”

You whipped your head around, and before you set eyes on Pietro, the blur of his red sweatshirt caught your eye and you knew he had run off. You sighed, running a hand across your scalp. 

“Sorry,” Vision apologized to you, bowing his head. “It’s... it’s your business, you and him.”

“Yes, I know,” you sighed again. “Thanks, I guess.”

“We’ll save some paprikash for you!” Wanda called out to you as you disappeared down the hallway. The lights of Pietro’s room were on, and you could hear the soft sound of a record playing from outside the door. It was Billy Joel’s The Stranger, one of his favorite American records; you had bought it for him, along with Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John. 

With “Vienna” playing from the old record player, you creaked open the door. Pietro was at his desk, hunched over a piece of paper with a ballpoint pen in his hand. He was humming along softly under his breath, scribbling away and not noticing you. You walked up behind him and put a hand on his arm, bending over to place your chin on his shoulder. He jumped.

“You scared me,” he muttered, hastily folding up the paper and shoving it into a drawer. “Did you knock?”

“No, sorry,” you drew your face away from him, glancing at where he hid the paper. “Did you want me to leave?”

“I--” he hesitated. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay,” you rocked on your toes for a second before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “You okay? Whatcha doing?”

“Just drawing,” he sighed, putting the pen down and leaning back in his chair. “Bored, I guess.”

“Haven’t seen you all day,” you continued.

“Been tired,” he lied through his teeth.

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “You slept for like ten hours.”

Pietro’s lips quirked up. “Yeah, true.”

“What’s going on?” you asked bluntly, patting the empty space on the bed beside you. Pietro eyed it for a second, as though hesitating, before getting up and taking a seat beside you, his knees resting against yours, shoulders pressed against one another. You lifted your hand, running it through his hair. “What’s goin’ on in that brain of yours?”

“Just...” Pietro paused. “Don’t you ever... aren’t you ever upset that I can’t... that I can’t really do stuff for you?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure what he meant.

“Like this watch,” Pietro ran his thumb over the face of the shiny gold watch on his wrist, the band glinting under the soft lights of his bedroom. “It’s... it’s great. I love it. But I can’t buy you stuff like this. I can’t... I don’t have...”

“That never upsets me,” you told him honestly. “I don’t even think about that kind of stuff.”

“You could have a guy who can buy you things,” Pietro went on. “A real rich one, you know, take you shopping and whatnot.”

“I can take myself shopping,” you joked, bumping your shoulder with his. He gave a small smile. “And I don’t need that, nor do I want that. I want you, and whatever you come with is perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Pietro scrunched up his face, his pale eyes glazed over. You ran your hand through the icy tips of his hair, and he leaned into your touch like a puppy being scratched behind the ear. “Sometimes I worry that you’ll leave.”

“Leave?”

“For someone with more money,” Pietro mumbled.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you kissed his cheek. “I don’t want to leave, and I’m not going to anytime soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you kissed his temple. “I am.”

Pietro said nothing, his brows furrowed and his nose slightly scrunched. You put your hand under his chin, turning his face so the two of you were eye to eye.

"You are perfectly perfect, Piet,” you told him firmly. You felt his face turn hot underneath your hand. “I’ve never wished for anything more or less from you. It’s like I’m Goldilocks and you’re the porridge that’s just right."

“Mm,” was all he said for a moment, leaning into you. After a pregnant pause of silence, he said, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah, I figured,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging his side. He pressed into you, hugging you back, the warmth from his arms engulfing you. “My next gift for you will be an American nursery rhyme book. How’s that?”

He let out a laugh, holding you tighter. “Anything from you is perfect.”

---

translations:

"Multumesc, dragă." - Thank you, darling.

taglist:

@niallhoransupremacy @childishnewt @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777@mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro marvel #pietro maximoff x yn #pietro #maximoff #mcu #pietro maximoff fanfic #fanficiton #pietro maximoff fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #atj #wanda maximoff #vision

[thewritingofspencerrose]

I know, it's (VERY, im so sorry) delayed, this has been sitting in my drafts since the day his trade was announced and i just got around to finishing it up. enjoy!

"Jamie," Is all I can think to respond to my brothers words. "I can't just move to Pennsylvania, you know that. I have three more years left of schooling."

You were supposed to have 3 more years on your contract, I want to add, but I know that's not what he needs right now. He was just traded away from his home with no warning, he doesn't need his little sister giving him a hard time.

"I know, trust me I know. I was so focused on getting my deal with the Ducks because of that. But some kid that was supposed to go to Philly had a change of plans and now I have to be on a plane there from Nashville at 5 in the morning."

"You don't even get to play against the Predators?" I ask, not realizing just how sudden this was all about to happen. "Do you need me to send you things? God I didn't realize this would all be so sudden."

"Kid, let's worry about what I need in a minute, I need to talk to you about you, the apartment, all of that." Oh shit. I can't afford this place. "I talked to Trevor, and he and I think you should move in with him."

"You... what?"

"I-"

"No, I heard you," I interrupt, not even letting him get two words in. "Why on earth is that your first thought? Let me have my sister move out of the apartment we've been living in and in with my best friend? Didn't Trevor literally move out because he wanted more space?"

"I know, and he knows that, but you're my little sister, I don't like the idea of you just finding some random roommate. And Trev promised that he'd look after you," Jamie explains, and I don't want to give him more grief than necessary today of all days, "I just need to know you're being looked after if I'm going to be on the east coast."

"Have you already talked to Trevor about this?"

"He offered."

Oh fuck me.

"Oh, woah," Are the first words out of Trevor's mouth when he walks in the door, two weeks and change after Jamie's move. After my moving in.

"I promise I tried not to touch anything, I just-"

"No, I told you that you should make yourself at home," He reminds, dropping his gear by the door. "It's just, I don't know, feels more homey in here than when I left."

"It's probably because you got so used to living with me and JD that seeing my things around reminds you," I offer, trying to ignore the way he's looking at me like the entire reason this place feels like home is me. "Speaking of my brother, when you offered this little deal to him did you happen to mention that you'd been sleeping with said little sister for months before you moved out?"

I probably should have seen what he was doing when he started to distance himself from me and should have realized I had gotten too attached when it hurt for him to do so.

And I had been doing fine with getting over him until JD had this fantastic idea.

Now he's here, his look shifting from admiration to shock.

"Why- why would I tell Jimmy that?"

"You're basically boyfriends, I would have thought you'd tell him about your torrid affair," I can't help the joke slipping, only earning myself an eye roll as he throws himself on the couch, landing by my feet and making the book on my lap nearly fall to the floor.

"You and everyone else need to stop thinking that we're boyfriends, you know better than any of us that I am not into guys," He returns, pointing at me like he's trying to prove his point.

Now I'm the one rolling my eyes. "Trev, the whole world knows you're into women, have you not seen the photos of you and that D'Amelio sister around? You're hot gossip on the internet."

I hate it.

"Oh God," He groans, head falling in his hands, and it's not the joking one I'm expecting, but genuine discomfort.

"Trev? You okay?" I'm already moving before I've finished asking, my book set aside as I move to his side, hand coming to caress the back of his neck, where his shaggy hair meets his hoodie.

I can't help but take a moment to hesitate, knowing that if he is with her like the tabloids say, I'm far too close to a gray area than I should be.

But it's Trevor. He helped JD move me into their apartment, after agreeing to me living with them in the first place.

He's always been there for me as long as JD and he have known each other, and I have always done my best to be there for him.

"It's the God damn media," is his whispered answer, shoulders slumping. "I can't be seen with a girl without being assumed to be with her, you know?"

"I can't say that I do," It's honest. Also very unhelpful. "You're sitting with the boring Drysdale, I have as much experience with the media as being photographed with you and JD."

His eyes rise up, looking at me for only a second before he's looking back down at his hands, ringing them. "You're not boring, Kate."

"You know what I mean-"

"No," He interrupts, eyes jumping up again, this time remaining on me. "You're not boring, you're normal in the best way. Why do you think I ended things?"

What?

"You deserve normal."

My hand stills on his neck, slowly sliding across his shoulder until it's back in my lap. "Trevor, what are you talking about? If this is because things aren't working with her and I'm suddenly around-"

"I was never with her!" He's yelling, moving to stand in the time it takes me to process his words and turning back on me, eyes wild. "We were in that photo because a mutual friend had a birthday and everyone ran with it!"

"Trev, you don't have to explain your dating life to me," I sound almost desperate, desperate in my desire to not hear about the women he's seen since our last night. My voice is the one who gets quiet now, "I'd really rather you not."

"You're not listening to me," Trev is nearly grunting, pausing to sit on the coffee table in front of my legs. "I haven't been seeing anyone else, it's why the photos piss me off. They have you thinking I'm out sleeping around," His hands rest on my knees, thumbs gently running over them. "You're not someone a person can just move on from, Kate."

"Trevor, you can't do this to me," There's that desperate tone again. "You broke off our arrangement. I was ready to become more and you were the one who said we'd have to just be friends, that I had to go back to being your best friend's little sister."

His thumbs dig in momentarily, the only thought coming to mind being when he last did that, hands slowly guiding my legs apart and -

No!

"Do you not know how much I've regretted every word of what I said?" He looks so genuine. He's Trev, of course he's being genuine.

"What made you change your mind?"

"The idea that you'd be moving to Philadelphia," There's no hesitation.

And I can't help but laugh. "Trevor Zegras, I have one year left of my undergrad and two of my masters. You can't have thought I'd really be uprooting my life," a smile comes back to his face for the first time since he walked in to see me on the couch.

"Are you laughing at me?" Is his falsely offended cry, making me laugh even harder. "How dare you!" His hands find my sides immediately, fingers moving in sync to tickle where he knows I'll feel it most.

His body has moved onto mine, my breathe leaving my lungs faster than they can refill as I wiggle.

"Trev! Trev! Get off of me, you goon!" He just smiles, propping himself up on his arms enough to pop back into a sitting position.

It's so soft, the look in his eyes.

"Give me another chance, please?" That's why he looks so soft.

He's scared.

But I am too. This has gotten more complicated than before.

"Trevor... this has gotten so much more complicated-"

"How?"

"What?" How could he possibly be asking how this could be more complicated.

He's smirking now. "It's actually less complicated. We're still roommates and I still want to be with you, only difference is your brother isn't on the other side of the door, keeping us quiet."

He's not wrong.

Now it's my turn to smile. "If we try this again, we're a couple. No casual sex."

"Deal," His smile is brighter than the lights at the stadium. "My terms were the same."

"And-"

"And? You want a kiss?" He supplies, and while it's not at all what I was going to say, I'm going to let him have this one.

So I nod.

He leans in.

And when our lips touch, it doesn't matter that he's my brother's best friend, or that I'm his best friend's little sister.

We're home.

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #trevor zegras x oc #jamie drysdale #trevor zegras x drysdale sister #trevor zegras

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Eleven: Once Bitten

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: swearing, violence, horror, family issues

[A/N: Okay, I lied when I said this would be the last chapter because I hated the first draft and decided to alter everything so now we get some extra time with our favourite enemies to... we'll see ;)]

Once Bitten

April 3rd, 1985 Morning of The Apocalypse

The alarm startled you, heart racing as you reach over and smack it silent.

You had been led down staring at the ceiling for a while now, waking up earlier than you intended to. That faceless thing was in your nightmares again, grey claws ripping into you before you woke up in a fit of sweat. You didn’t cry this time. That was promising.

The ‘support group’ Hopper was sending you to wasn’t helping anything. They expected you to talk about drugs, an addiction you apparently had two years ago, so that they could treat you like a project. You only attended because you were sick of feeling crazy. Hopper didn’t believe you. Hell, you didn’t believe you.

It took all of 20 minutes to get ready, stuffing your backpack with textbooks you’d be ignoring. But you had to look the part, to convince your father that you were trying.

As you slip out of your room, the familiar smell of Eggos filled the air. El pretty much refused to eat anything else for breakfast.

“Y/n.” El’s small voice calls out, her now shoulder-length hair swinging as she peels her eyes away from the TV.

“Hey.” You smile, dropping your bag and joining her on the couch. “You seem cheery.”

“Uh-huh.” She nods and you notice she has her hands behind her back. “Hopper got me a present.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, amused. El was an easy kid to please, but she looked much more excited than she has before.

“Do you wanna see?” She asks and you laugh.

“Obviously.”

Another smile and she brings her hands around towards you, curling them into fists and stretching out her arms. You laugh again at her actions, shaking your head.

“What am I meant to-” You begin before your voice catches in your throat. Something blue was staring back at you, adding salt to an ever-growing wound consuming you. “Is that…”

“Hopper’s band.” El says as if she’s repeating it from practice, fiddling with it. “He said I was important. I’m going to take good care of it.”

Tears were already pooling in your eyes before you had even assessed the situation. Your little sister’s hairband now wrapped around the wrist of a girl you had only met a year ago. The last remaining part of your sister given to a stranger she’d never known. Hopper gave El something so important to you like it was nothing.

“Okay, I’m heading out soon.” Hopper announces as he steps out of the bathroom, fixing his hat. It was the only room with a mirror, a luxury if you woke up early enough. “Y/n, you ready to go?”

You don’t respond and he turns to where you and El sit together, frowning.

“Y/n?”

“How could you?” You whisper out and El looks up surprised. Looking into her eyes, you take a deep breath before forcing a smile. “Hey, could you go to my room for a little bit? I wanna talk to Hopper. You can go through my comics again.”

He tenses at the mention of his name rather than ‘dad’, but you ignore it.

“Okay.” El nods hesitantly, slipping off the couch and disappearing to her room. You should have waited for the click of the door closing, but you were unaware she’d be following the rules; leave the door open three inches at all times.

“Did you give El the hair band?” You stand up to face him and shoulders relax, taking a breath. It looked like he was expecting this conversation, running a hand down his face as he takes a step towards you.

“I did.” He admits softly, meeting your eyes.

“Why?” You shake your head slowly with blurry vision. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she’s our family now.” He starts, frowning in attempt to think through his words. Hopper had never been good at expressing how he felt. “It felt right.”

“It felt right?” You repeat, struggling to not raise your voice. There was an indescribable pain building in your chest that made you want to scream, to cry and sob until it washed away. “Replacing Sara feels right?”

Hopper’s face falls. “I’m not replacing her.”

“I sure feels like it.” The first tear slips down and you angrily wipe it away, letting your hand point to your bedroom door. “You can’t just treat her like a second chance!”

“I’m not.” He says calmly, too calm for your liking. “Let’s just take a breath.”

“Do not tell me I’m crazy.” You warn, voice cracking and destroying your attempt at steadiness. “Ever since you brought her here, it’s like you completely forgot Sara ever existed!”

“I can never forget.” He raises his voice now, ever so slightly to ensure you knew he was serious. “I think about her every single day. But we can’t just keep holding onto the past-”

“She wasn’t some kind of pet, she was real! Family!” You cry, stepping forward with a frown. “She was my sister, your daughter, and you’re just throwing her away! That hair band is all we have left!”

“And now it is safe!” He shouts before exhaling. He turns around to recollect himself, speaking softly. “Do you know how long it has taken me to look at it with anything but guilt? Sara… her memory can now be protected by someone that deserves it.”

“A stranger?! El didn’t know her!” You sob. It was uncontrollable now, your rage. It came from a darker place, one you hadn’t visited in a while. It was frightening to know you could feel this kind of fury. “What about me?! Am I not worthy enough to take care of my sister?”

“That’s not-” He turns back around, holding a hand out before pulling away with it in a fist. “We can’t talk about this while you’re…”

“Acting up?” You scoff. You needed to get out of here, clear your mind. It felt like there was this weight pushing harder and harder on your lungs. If you stood here any longer, you were afraid you would be crushed completely.

So, you march straight over to your bag, slipping it onto one shoulder and pushing past Hopper.

“Hey!” He calls out as you make it to the door, angrily snapping open the multiple locks Hopper had installed. “Don’t walk away!”

As your trembling fingers catch the last metal rig, you rest your head against the door.

“If you wanted a new family, you should’ve said so.” You say lowly, refusing to face him. When he doesn’t speak, you slide the last barrier and hear the familiar click as you turn the doorknob.

“We both lost her, Y/n.”

Just as you pull the door open, you’re frozen. He sounded tired, broken. Like he was done fighting with you this time.

“I know we haven’t spoken about it.” He continues, his voice hoarse. You could hear his boots clumping against the ground as he slowly tries to close the distance. “But I’m here-”

“Don’t bother.” You interrupt, turning around. Tears were staining your cheeks. You never truly met his eyes, fixated on the bridge of his nose because you knew if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to win this argument. Why did you care about winning?

“You’ve been nothing but a- a shit father to me ever since she died! Like you don’t even like me!” You yell, hoping it’ll keep him away from you. He looks a little startled, but he doesn’t speak a word. And then those fears are rising to the surface, slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Sometimes I wonder if you wish it were me that died instead.”

It was like his heart was visibly shattering, dawning his expression with pain. “Y/n-”

“I’m leaving.” You cut him off, swinging open the door and stepping outside, unable to resist turning around just one last time. “I’m glad you’ve finally found a daughter you can love.”

And with that, you slam the door shut, moving through the maze of the alarm system like second nature. You expected to hear the door open again, the thump of wooden floorboards beneath a sorry father’s weight, the familiar shout of forgiveness carrying in the wind.

It stayed silent, as quiet as the tears that dripped down your cheeks. He wasn’t coming after you this time. You’d finally won.

But what did you really win?

Steve visibly buffers as his eyes keep darting between you and Billy. He hated how you smiled at eachother like you were passing secret notes with your eyes. He hated it so much he couldn’t resist blurting out the first thing in his mind.

“How do you know eachother?” Steve questions, a frown permanently staining his delicate features as his eyes flicker between you and Billy. It was unsettling. More than unsettling. Worlds colliding in a heaping pile of flames.

“Oh, we go way back.” Billy replies suggestively, smirking at how uncomfortable Steve looked. “What’s the matter, Harrington? Not expecting that?”

Your worn expression of unamused proportions flickers between the two as they inch closer. Steve looked like he wanted to throw a punch, whilst Billy looked intentionally smug about it.

“I sense I’ve missed something.” You decide, looking to Robin as she threw a dirty look to the boy clad in denim. “Okay, calm down, no one’s trying to kill eachother.”

“That’s not what happened last time.” Steve spat, still glaring at Billy. Your eyes widen.

“Huh?” You prompt, a flash of unrecognisable guilt in Billy’s features before he’s smirking again.

“Old times.” Billy’s vague answer doesn’t settle the bubble of anxiety you feel in your stomach.

“Why are you here?” Robin glares and your brows shoot up. You knew she didn’t like him but you didn’t expect the scowl on her face to hold such anger.

“That lot was practically dragging Max out the house.” He nods in the direction of the Party, their heads lowered as they share in a hushed discussion, completely oblivious to the older kids. “Didn’t have enough room in the chief’s car so I drove us here.”

“I didn’t see your car.” You frown and he purses his lips.

“It… blew up.”

Steve snorts, not even trying to hide it.

“Damn monsters.” Billy throws a pointed glare before returning back to you. “I actually volunteered to go down to the flippity thing.”

“Upside down.” Robin scoffs, crossing her arms like she had more knowledge of the situation than the blonde boy in front of her.

“Whatever.” He dismisses, resting a hand on his hip. He smirks at you. “Figured I got nothing better to do.”

Steve couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder. Here Billy was, acting like this mission he probably heard about two minutes ago was merely an errand to run. He could try all he wanted, he would never be the hero he’s pretending to be. Never.

“Okay, listen up.”

Hopper strides back into the room, glancing to you with a smile which you feebly return, wanting to curl up in a ball. You still felt embarrassed about your outburst.

“Joyce and I are gonna come up with a plan. We need to work on both sides here, someone manning communications while others help El try and find this… thing we’re looking for. Nothing can go wrong here.” He addresses the whole room, a few nods on determined faces. “If Y/n’s right, and something else is out there controlling these gates, we’ll put an end to this for good.”

And if she’s wrong, she’s going to put everyone in danger they don’t deserve, you think, tightening your lips.

“Mike, Lucas, I’ll need a quick count on provisions. I don’t want us being in there any longer than a few hours but we need to be prepared.” He instructs, the two boys determinedly running off to carry out their duties. “Dustin make sure those radios are ready and fully charged.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Dustin salutes, swiping some batteries from the table before sauntering off into the next room.

“Will, Max, we’ll need at least two backpacks.” Hopper suggests and they nod, sending a quick look to eachother and disappearing into the sleeping quarters.

“As for now, Nancy I need you here so we can strategise.” He says and the girl looks confident as she walks up to the table, peering at the worn map covering the wooden inches. Hopper glances up. “You too, Billy.”

“I guess I’ll catch you later.” Billy winks at you, suddenly adopting a whole new persona as he respectively smiles at Hopper when joining the planning circle, even going as far as shaking his hand. Steve frowns. It’s weird. Very weird.

Robin sounds a hum and you turn to look at her. “Well. Since we got out of homework, what say we go relax-”

“Can you guys go on patrol?” Jonathan’s voice interrupts and you all glance over to where he was walking over, still pressing an ice pack to his head. “I’m meant to be doing it now with Nancy but she’s busy and I’m…”

“Concussed?” You tilt your head as he smiles weakly. “Been there. Of course we will.”

“Thanks.” He sighs gratefully, sending a reassuring nod to Joyce as her worried eyes follow him around the room.

“Great.” Robin claps her hand, smiling up at you both. “You guys have fun.”

“Wha-” You pout as she tries to walk away, your arm immediately reaching out and pulling her back. “Nuh-uh, you’re coming with me.”

“Do I have to?” She whines and you send her a look, one she’s only ever seen when you’re desperately needing an alibi. “Jeez, fine, whatever. Who doesn’t love the thrill of potentially getting your face ripped off in the morning?”

“That’s a… vivid image.” Steve twists his face in a grimace as you drop your shoulders. Robin is already surveying the weapons table when he leans closer to you. “She doesn’t have to come with us. I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Um…” You take a look at her, circling through all the different responses in your head. “No, I… I want her to come with us. If this apocalypse doesn’t end anytime soon, I just want her to know how to protect herself, maybe be a little more confident.”

Steve frowns as he watches you walk over to Robin, seemingly explaining which items would prove best in a fight. He felt a little twinge of disappointment when you didn’t want to go with him alone. After that talk, you opening up to him about something so personal, he assumed… he wasn’t sure what he was assuming.

“Wanna tell me why I’m your get out of jail free card?” Robin raises her brow and your lips tighten, reaching for a heavy knife and inspecting it. “Woah, okay, don’t tell me, message received.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, putting it back down. “I just want to help you be a little less scared, that’s all. We need to be prepared.”

“Uh-huh.” She sounds unconvinced, hand hovering over a pistol but you simply shake your head and she grabs the next item on the table. “The hell is this?”

You look down and widen your eyes. “Oh, Robs, be careful, that’s a-”

Her finger accidentally settles on a trigger and a jolt of electricity crackles loudly, a little too close to your hand and you jump back. It falls from her hand as she yelps, looking like a child that had been caught playing with their mother’s makeup. She notices the concerned looks from her peers in the room.

“My bad.” She raises her hand apologetically before reaching down at carefully picking the taser back up. She looks to you with a grimace. “Did I get you?”

“No, Robs. You get me, you fry me alive.” You breathe out, checking your hand. “Maybe we should teach you how to use that.”

“Perfect time, right?” Steve comments, leaning past you for his bat and you try to ignore how your heart rate increases when he’s close to you. “As long as you don’t tase us or yourself, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, give the clumsiest girl on the planet electricity, what could go wrong?” She expresses, but she takes the taser and turns her back to stomp her way up the stairs.

Steve can’t help but laugh, hand on his hip. “It should be interesting.”

When you don’t respond, he looks down at you just in time to see you look away, clearing your throat.

“Uh, yeah. Totally. We should, uh, we should follow.” You blurt out, swiping the knife and nodding. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He says with a suspicious smile, amused at the way you’re avoiding his eyes. What were you hiding?

“Y/n.” Hopper calls out, ending a conversation with Joyce with a gentle pat of her shoulder and walking over to you, extending his hand to show you his keys. “The tank needs filling up, there should be some gas by the door.”

“Got it.” You smile, taking his keys, but he doesn’t bid farewell. “Anything else?”

“Just…” He sighs, frowning. “You shouldn’t have any problems, but the minute something is wrong- even just feels off-”

“We’ll be fine, dad.” You reassure, his lips flickering beneath his moustache at a name he hadn’t heard in a while.

“I know you will, kid.” He says as you jingle the keys and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie, walking up the stairs to find Robin.

Steve goes to follow until a hand is on his shoulder, redirecting him back to Hopper’s stare.

“Don’t let anything happen to her.” His words aren’t a warning, rather a plea. Steve nods.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve nods, and he meant every word.

“So, why am I your Steve buffer?” Robin asks, practically jumping out behind you when you reached the next landing.

“Fuck, where did you come from?” You hold your hand to your heart, taking a breath.

“You. Harrington.” She narrows her eyes and you roll your own. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on what’s going on here.”

“Yeah, just like you picked up on Miss Click’s secret affair with Dan Shelter?” You point out, her lips tightening.

“That was the only time I have ever been wrong.” She defends, crossing her arms. “It’s not like it hurt anybody.”

You scrunch up your face. “She almost got fired.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Yeah, because I took the blame so you wouldn’t get in trouble.” You remind her and she relaxes her shoulders, looking a little guilty. “Hey, not your fault, I wanted to do that.”

“You got detention because of me.” She said a little quietly and you let out a chuckle.

“Robs, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that was like two years ago-”

“Not then.” Robin corrects and your face drops. “If you hadn’t… if I just… you would have been okay. And you wouldn’t have had to survive the apocalypse with a guy you can’t stand to be around.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” You step forward, frowning. “It was mine. I… I wanted to get detention. That whole thing just gave me a reason to.”

“Who wanted detention?” Steve’s voice interrupts and you both stay silent, causing him to purse his lips. “Oh-kay, girl talk, huh? I get it.”

Robin stares at him in disbelief and you suppress a smile. Fuck. This was getting harder than you thought.

The reason you wanted Robin here wasn’t because you wanted her to be. It was true, giving her the skills to protect herself was going to be worthwhile, but part of you just wanted to keep her bundled up in bubble wrap, safely hidden away. You’re just afraid that if you go with Steve alone, you’ll do something you’ll regret. Something you promised your past self would never happen.

A stubborn promise slowly being shattered by Steve’s warm smile.

The walls around you were pale, much like the brightness of the bulbs hanging above your head. Your nerves were alight, waiting for them to begin flickering madly, stopping everything and everyone around you, the black dust…

None of it made sense. It wasn’t possible. Alternate dimension? Sure. Monsters? Yeah, why not. But freezing time? No. No way.

And yet, it happened.

You weren’t ready to talk about it yet, though. Not that you were sure anyone would believe you. It took Hopper to actually experience it before he believed you had almost been attacked. In fact, the only person you wanted to talk to was currently trailing behind you in a one-sided conversation with your chatty best friend. He seemed a little more open minded. Never called you crazy, genuinely wanted to listen. But you couldn’t talk to Steve right now. Not while you were having trouble looking anywhere but his eyes and lips.

So, instead, you lead Steve and Robin through the maze of harsh lighting, the soft drone of Robin’s voice muffled by your thoughts fighting to not recall the grinning monster that had thrown you into that wall, or dragged you through a pool of blood on the floor.

Behind you, Steve couldn’t resist the concerned gaze he had on the back of your head as you led them through eerie corridors, never stopping, barely looking at them. He knew you must be spiralling about everything that has been happening. He sees what it’s doing to you. The smart quips forced out of your mouth to stop you from thinking, that pause you always seem to have before striking a smile as if even your brain was struggling to hide emotion. He notices that wobble in your lip you catch between your teeth, any and every reason to stop yourself from admitting you’re not okay.

Steve can’t believe he knows all of these things. Four days ago he wouldn’t have even cared.

“I get why a person would hate Billy Hargrove. I mean… it’s Billy Hargrove.” Robin says, the only part of her rambling Steve finally managed to tune in to. She had a habit of cutting the awkward silence with a conversation even more awkward. Her speciality, really. “But why do you hate Billy? It’s not weird high school boy testosterone reasons, right?”

“No.” Steve sighs, finding the humour in her way with words. Robin felt like someone he wished he had as a friend, an easy talker. She always spoke her mind, regardless of the situation. She made him feel like he could say anything and she wouldn’t bat an eye. Well, maybe not anything. She’s made it pretty clear that she would do anything for you.

“Then what?” She scrunches her face. “You seriously looked like you were gonna murder him. So I have to assume you both had some sort of fight. Unless it’s for different reasons. Maybe Y/n told you about- but that doesn’t equate to holding yourself back from manslaughter-”

“What are you talking about?” Steve couldn’t help the chuckle escaping his lips. He takes a quick glance to where you trail in front, completely oblivious. “Y/n didn’t tell me she knew Billy.”

“Oh, right.” She nods, snapping her fingers. “I forget. You guys are mortal enemies or whatever.”

He chose not to respond to that statement. “What’s their deal anyway? They seem…”

“Chummy?” She suggests, groaning. “Ugh, barely. She seems to like him, though. No matter how many times I tell her she’s a poor judge of character, she just doesn’t seem to listen.”

“Like him? Like… like him?” Steve frowns and Robin grimaces.

“As if.” She says and he has to prohibit the breath of relief from sounding into the hallway. “They were partnered for a project way back. Pretty much spent almost every day together for two weeks before he stood her up and never talked to her. She kept calling but, alas, no response.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s an asshole who just uses women.” Robin comments with spite, “What other reason would there be?”

“So… he used her?” His face scrunches as Robin sighs.

“No. God, no, they had… I don’t know, a moment or something, but she’s too smart to be pining after him.” She explains, waving her hand in the air as she spoke. “Y/n would never let anyone take advantage of her again.”

“Hm.” Steve nods, staring at his shoes as they softly squeak against the floors. You seem completely not phased as you swing the gas can around absent-mindedly in your hand and he wonders if you’re too caught up in your own thoughts. You and Billy? It was as if the universe catches wind of his desires and throws a bullet hole in them. “Wait. Again.”

“What?” Robin looks up like she had already forgotten the conversation.

“You said again. Someone taking advantage of her again.”

The blood drains from her face. Steve can’t help but stop, causing her to stop with him. She looked somewhat mortified as she sends a panicked look your way. Thankfully, you really weren’t paying attention to them.

“No I didn’t.” She says plainly and he almost laughed.

“Robin.”

“No.” She shakes her head profusely. “I said… ag-ing. Ageing. Yes.”

“Ageing?” He cocks a brow. “You said that she wouldn’t let someone take advantage of her ageing?”

“She is ageing very beautifully.” She coughs and he narrows his eyes.

“Robin.”

“No.” She hold up her hand and steps back. “I will not be succumbed by your Jedi mind tricks.”

“Jed-what?”

“It’s not my business.” She states with a serious stare, tightening her lips. Her voice is a whisper, afraid of the echoing walls. “I… I don’t know when to shut up sometimes. Maybe I’m just trying to trick everyone into thinking I’m not constantly living in fear, but I will literally talk until someone stops me. And most of the time I don’t think before I speak. Like now, I- I have no idea what’s gonna come out my mouth and the next thing I know I’ve revealed something that isn’t even my business to be sharing in the first place.

“But-”

“Y/n is my best friend. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s my only friend and I don’t know what I’d do without her so please. Please. Just forget I said anything. I can’t lose her just because I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

If it weren’t for the overhead lights, Steve would never have noticed the glimmering tears pooling in her eyes. He knew she really meant what she said. She looked terrified. And Steve wasn’t going to be the person to ruin what Robin obviously cherishes most.

“Any chance they have some real food when we get back?” He finally speaks and she raises her head in surprise. “I’m starving.”

“I’m pretty sure all they’re gonna have is nutty bars.” Robin comments, flashing a small smile of appreciation. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“Hey?”

They both whip their heads to where you stand at the end of the hallway, frowning. While you hadn’t been focusing on them, once the noise of their conversation had lowered you had taken notice.

“You guys good?” You ask and Robin steps forward, patting Steve’s back.

“Oh yeah, we’re peachy.” She grins, “Practically besties now.”

“Don’t say besties.” Steve shudders and you tilt your head in disbelief.

“Really?” Your eyebrow raises and you decide you really didn’t need to spend energy on this. “Whatever, let’s get outside before it gets dark.”

With no objections, a few short steps later lead you stepping over a pile of broken glass, looking up at the foreboding red sky. It would have been a pretty sight if you hadn’t of known what caused it.

“The sun’s setting pretty fast.” Steve announces, brows pinched. “Let’s get this ride filled up and get the hell out of here.”

“Amen.” Robin shivers, the cool crisp of air hitting the back of her neck that remained uncovered from that impulsive haircut.

You’re already at Hopper’s police car, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia when you look at it, as if it hasn’t only been three days. But it’s different this time, because you honestly couldn’t say you were ever going to see this car again. Thinking of the worst will only heighten your anxiety, but expecting disappointment saved you from those harsh realities hitting any harder than they should.

“How long is this gonna take?” Robin whispers out, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s cold and I’d like to be back inside with all the other nice, shiny weapons.”

“Almost done, Robs.” You sigh, discarding the empty can and picking up the second from the ground. “There might be a blanket in the backseat if you really need it.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll survive.” She shakes her head, bouncing on her feet by shifting back and forth between each foot.

When Steve finally had enough, he rolls his eyes and slides his jacket off, holding it out to her. Robin’s eyes are wide as she silently accepts it. Anything was better than the sharp air she stood in. It was April, for god’s sakes, and here she was, shivering like she was trapped in an ice cube.

“Thanks.” She mumbles and Steve hums. She looks up to see he was distracted, eyes unwavering. Her first thought was that he was keeping an eye out, but when she followed his gaze she realised it was rather keeping an eye on. Which on the scale of normal to ‘hey, look, an apocalypse’, it was weird.

“Unbelievable.” Robin mutters to herself.

“Huh?” Steve finally tears his eyes away from you to see Robin looking up at him with a scowl. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know what you did.” She glares, folding her arms and hugging herself tighter.

“I can honestly say, I don’t.” He blinks and her lips tighten.

“You do anything to ruin it, anything at all… I will hurt you.” She warns and Steve physically recoils.

“Did I get another concussion and forget about it?” He frowns, “What-”

“Okay, all set.” You announce, dumping the final can and turning with a smile. “Let’s get back inside- Robs, why do you look like that?”

“See?” Steve expresses, clicking his tongue, “I don’t know, she’s-”

When Steve turns to Robin, all he sees is a pale face and wide eyes, the complete opposite of the look she had given him seconds ago. He felt his arm hairs raise like soldiers on a field of goosebumps, prickling in the ice-cold of her terror.

“We have to get inside.” She whispers, voice cracking.

Everything felt dead silent, your heart rate beating your ear drums and you slowly turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

A pair of eyes lock onto you, masked behind the blood dripping from the mouth of what once used to be a person, now turned monster. She looked about your age, wearing jeans and a hoodie, much like the clothes currently clinging to your body. Except she looked at you with hunger, a sliced mouth ripping apart her skin into four sections. But that wasn’t the part that made your insides twist.

You found another pair of eyes. And another. And another. And another. A sea of dead, endless eyes, all looking at you like they were angry, like they held a deep and dark grudge against your very existence. Your breath didn’t hitch. It simply couldn’t when you couldn’t even breathe.

Her dead eyes were looking straight through you, and you couldn’t do anything for her – all that blood. You couldn’t -There was so much blood.

They all looked like corpses with agility, the concerning wait as they hunger for their food, but never attacking. They looked like an army.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Steve curses, muttering under his breath as he cycled through the ideas of escape swarming in his eyes. The three of you couldn’t fight them off. There were so many, he was sure he lost count. And they were here. Why were they here?

“Why is no one counting to three?” Robin asks in a panic and you both look at her with silent confusion. “Usually someone is counting to three whenever we have to run away from literal death. Someone needs to count to three right now or I’m gonna freak-”

“Okay, okay, just calm down.” You hiss, grabbing her hand and she tightens her lips. You look up to Steve, “We counting to three?”

“I don’t see any other option.” He whispers back, chest rising heavily. He watches the indecision flash behind your eyes as you struggle.

“One.” You eventually say and Robin stands a little straighter, nodding as she turns herself towards her end destination.

“Two.” She replies, just as quiet as she shook. She wasn’t cold anymore.

Steve meets your eyes with a frown, his gaze flickering between you and the angry mob of monsters in the distance. You seemed prepared, desperate. For a moment, he really thought he wouldn’t say anything, too afraid that you’ll pull your usual self-sacrifice. So, he reaches out and grabs your hand, your eyes widening ever so slightly at the touch, but he wasn’t about to let you repeat past mistakes.

“Three.” He finally breathes, and then it’s a rush of motion.

You’re all taking off, sneakers tracking up mud as you sprint across the grass. Robin was slightly ahead, gripping the taser tightly in a fist. You had Steve’s hand to hold on to instead, feeling him tug you along every so often.

He finally drops your hand when you reach the lab, fully aware of the singular gap of shattered glass you all had to jump through. You feel the familiar crunch beneath your feet, risking a rushed look over your shoulder before you come to a complete stop, frowning with heavy breaths.

They hadn’t moved. Not one turned monster had tried to catch their prey. They were simply… watching.

There was a tug on your hand again and you stumble back into a run, feeling Steve’s resolute fingers intertwining with yours the entire time you weave through the hallways, back to that familiar bunker door, even all the way down those echoing metal steps until you were back in a room of safety.

Heads whip your way when Steve eventually releases your hand, using his to run it through his hair as he took in deep breaths.

Robin was a little more dishevelled, dropping herself to the ground to lay on her back.

“I… am… never… doing… that… again.” She managed to sound out, squeezing her eyes shut with a hand over her heart.

You try to suck the oxygen back into your body as you lean against a wall, earning a cocked brow from the mullet wearing boy at the centre table.

“Quiet night?” He jokes, but your serious expression changed his tone immediately. “What happened?”

“Monsters.” Robin gasps, finally sitting up. “I fucking hate monsters.”

“What happened?” Hopper repeats, pushing away from the table and walking over to you with a concerned frown etched between his brows. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine.” You nod quickly and he lets out a sigh of relief. “The chevy’s all fired up.”

You toss him the keys and he snatches them out of the air with one swift fist.

“What did you-”

“Y/n?”

You feel your body stiffen as the sweet and quiet voice calling out to you. For just a moment, you could have sworn it was Sara.

You peer around Hopper to find El pushing out of the group in the corner, her face breaking into a smile and before you know it, she’s ran up and wrapped her arms around you.

“I missed you.” She states, voice muffled by your hoodie.

Tears prick at your eyes as you rest your head on hers, embracing her like she might slip away from you. “I missed you, too.”

“Awwww.” Dustin coos, looking like he might cry, too.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Lucas pats his back, a crack in his voice as he dons the same emotional expression.

“Men.” Max rolls her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips all the same.

“When did you wake up?” You ask softly, pushing her away only enough to see her face. Her curly hair was a bit of a mess, dark circles under her eyes.

“A while ago.” She responds, glancing at Hopper. “Hopper needed to talk to me.”

Hopper’s warm smile quickly dropped as he clears his throat, nodding.

“It’s about the plan.” He explains in its simplest term, meaning that he didn’t want you to know all of it, at least not until he had spoken to El first.

“Yeah, okay.” You force a smile, finally letting her go. “We’ll talk later.”

She beams up at you as she follows Hopper out of the room and into the adjoining one. You watch them start to talk behind the glass, like you were observing a secret conversation you’d never be a part of.

“You guys gonna tell us what the hell happened to you, then?” Max raises a brow, shrugging when people look at her as if to say ‘really?’. “What? I’m just asking what we’re all thinking.”

“We had a run in with a hoard of people.” Steve sighs, rubbing his temple as he sets his bat back on the table, returning his hand to his hip. “Well, not really people.”

“Weird mutant people.” Robin corrected and Steve nods, pointing at her.

“Demopeople.” Dustin whispers out and Steve does a double take.

“Really? Demopeople?”

“You got another name you wanna share with the class?” Dustin spits and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Sorry if I just think we could be a little more creative here. Demogorgon. Demodogs. Demopeople. It’s just getting a little repetitive.”

Dustin stares at him with a deadpan look. Steve doesn’t take the hint.

“What’s next. Demobirds? Demobats? Demohippos-”

“We get it, Steve!” Dustin stresses and Steve just pulls a face.

“God, why are they like that?” Robin shivers as the image reawakens in her mind.

“We think it could be a virus.” Mike announced, so casually as if it was a conversation about dinner.

“Virus?” You ask, feeling a little startled by his suggestion.

“Don’t worry, none of us have it.” Dustin pats your back and Steve hides a smirk when you slowly push his hand away.

“Why do you think it’s a virus?” You persist as a shiver ran down your spine. You wrap your arms around you to mask the sudden feeling to your friends. They didn’t seem to take any notice.

“You guys seen them before?” Steve asks, glancing at you when he sees you jolt, trying to cover it up.

“A few.” Nancy replies this time, and the others nod in accordance. “A lot of people in town were like that.”

Their faces said everything they didn’t. You know because you’ve had that expression, the dawning realisation that the person trying to kill you wasn’t really a person anymore.

“Mr Holloway?”

His wild eyes suddenly darted upwards, staring at you.

Then, he pounces.

He’s snarling as he claws at your jumper, pulling you down to the ground with him. In haste you try and push him off of you, but this man was a lot bigger than you, wrapping his hands around your throat and smashing your head into the cold ground.

Struggling against his weight, he rears his head closer to you.

“Stop!” You try, his tightening grip on your neck releasing the word as a strained whisper.

“But how did they get it?” Robin questions and Will looks up from where he had been staring down at his hands.

“An infection.” He says quietly. “All of those people… they were bitten.”

“By the Demogorgons?” Steve’s eyes are wide with mild terror and curiosity.

“And the demodogs. Maybe.” Lucas adds.

“Whatever it is, it’s not getting in here. Now come on, we have work to do.” Joyce reminds them gently and the boys collectively sigh before trailing over to where Max was already sat.

Steve watches as she bats away Dustin’s hands, his pout when Max won’t give him the radio. It was strange to see how normal everyone was reacting to this whole situation, even the indication that any one of them could be infected with a virus that could turn them into monsters, no, zombies. But that normality was probably the only thing keeping everyone sane right now.

Could there really be some kind of virus? It made sense, people with the mouths of the very creatures that had attacked them. But surely that was barbaric. No way was the Upside Down going to be that creepy.

“What a load of bullshit, right? A virus?” He scoffs out a laugh, hoping you’ll laugh too and set his mind at ease. He wants you to agree that it is all a lie, that there wasn’t something else out there to be afraid of.

But when he looks over at you, your face has fallen, and you look ill.

“Y/n?” He whispers out and you clear your throat.

“Huh? Sorry, I’m… tired. I think I’m gonna grab some sleep.” You nod, eyes directed at him but not really looking. It was like you were in a haze, accompanied by a concerned look on Robin’s face.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t really sleep last night so… so I should try.” You say a little airily, convincing yourself more than them.

“Do you want me to-”

“No.” You cut Robin off with a smile, already heading to the door. “No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

You pushed through the doors and left them stood there, exchanging glances of worry.

“She’s not okay.” Steve states and Robin almost rolls her eyes.

“No shit, Sherlock.” She mumbles, talking again before he could retaliate, “Maybe she’s just scared? I mean her dad is about to go on a suicide mission down into a place crawling with all kinds of chomping virus monsters. I’d be pretty god damn terrified too.”

“Yeah.” Steve agrees, but he was lying. Something felt wrong. He’s been there when you’ve been through something traumatic, and right now he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more phased in the last three days than you did just then.

You lower yourself into the sleeping bag in the far corner. It looked untouched, all the others spare from two were covered in various trinkets, creased from use. You figured the two at the very back were made up for you and Steve. When you settle on the ground, you notice a familiar black and bulky material, a bag you hadn’t seen since detention. The one Hopper found when he tried to look for life in a building surrounded by dead bodies.

Hopper. Your dad. Why weren’t you reacting more to this? You had fought, screamed, cried when he suggested he’d be going. And now he’s officially heading there, and you feel numb. Maybe too much has happened for your brain to take notice of how fucked up everything really was. Or it could be because you had more pressing matters to occupy your brain storage.

It could be a virus.

A load of bullshit, right?

An infection.

Your hands shake as you reach down with your eyes squeezed shut, painfully rolling up your jean leg that had seen better days.

When you open them, you’re staring down at a torn piece of fabric wrapped around your ankle, a single tear trickling down your cheek. You strip away the bandage and choke back a gasp.

Small little puncture wounds wrapped across your skin, like teeth marks. And there were black veins too, snaking across your flesh, creeping up your leg.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Twelve: Down The Rabbit Hole ->

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @80saestheticismyfav .

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things reader insert #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #apocalypse au #st2 #stranger things au #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #robin buckley

[corazondebeskar-reads]

save your tears

Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 18 - too weak to move | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 1.1k

summary: What would have happened if you went with Joel and Ellie instead of staying in Jackson?

-- I cheated a little for this one but this is an alternate universe scene from "you know you never stood a chance" (spoiler warning). BUT this can be read as a standalone.

warnings: established situationship, canon-compliant-ish, canon-typical violence, description of wound, description of bodily fluids related to a wound, realistic thoughts about a survival situation, hunting and eating of animals

dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: this is what I call the silver lake alternate version. in my very early draft of the story, you did not stay in jackson. you got mad at Joel for abandoning Ellie and went to the stables in the morning, planning to go with Ellie and Tommy. The rest of the events happened as per canon. However, as I was writing this scene, it became quickly apparent that it was the wrong narrative choice. but just for fun, here's a snippet after Joel is wounded. (stay tuned in the end notes for the one single David line I wrote).

“You can’t shoot,” Ellie says. She won’t look at you. It’s not mean; it’s just another way you’re failing them. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be back,” she promises. 

You hate this. But there’s no time for self-loathing. What you can do instead is boil snow. 

You creep up to the main level of the house. When you’re sure it’s clear, you crawl through, trying to stay out of sight through any windows. You’re able to scrounge up a few containers of dubious origin and cleanliness but better than your two canteens. 

You light a fire in an old ration tin and prop a steel mixing bowl (the best find of the lot) on top. The first round of snow goes to scrubbing out the containers with an unfortunately large sliver from your bar of soap. 

It’s a loss, but you can’t risk putting dirty water on Joel’s wound. 

Once you have one clean bowl of water, you set another to boil and pull back his shirt and bandages. 

It’s bad. You know it, Ellie knows it, Joel knows it. But you have to try. You have to, or all three of you are dead. 

Well. Maybe not Ellie. She’s tough and capable. Maybe she could make it back to Tommy without you slowing her down. 

You have nothing remotely sterile, so you mentally set aside the next bowl of water for cleaning a scrap of fabric. For now, you try to flush the wound with a slow stream of warm water. 

You’ve been talking to him quietly, explaining to him what you were doing, though his consciousness is dubious at best today. But when you start to pour, his eyes snap open, and his hand flashes out to squeeze at the bones of your wrist. 

“Joel, it’s me, it’s just me,” you say quickly. His grip is grinding, and things are not going to be helped by a broken wrist. And you know it never really healed right, that breaking it a second time would mean it possibly never working the same again. You try not to panic. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper, and he seems to finally recognize you. His fingers loosen, but don’t let go. 

“I’m just trying to help,” you say. You feel like the basement is getting smaller, darker, like it might swallow you up. Someone is breathing shakily, and you’re humiliated to find out it’s you. 

His thumb rubs against your pulse for a moment. “Take Ellie and go,” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking. 

Instead of responding, you bring the canteen up to his mouth and let a little water drip into his mouth. His eyes close for a moment. 

He purses his lips too soon, a tiny shake to his head. 

“It’s okay, I’m boiling more, please drink.”

But he’s already passing back out. You reach up and stroke your fingers through his hair. It’s damp with sweat despite the crystalline spread of ice inside the windowpanes. 

Sweat is good, right? It means his body is burning the infection. At least, you think so. 

You pause to switch the water so you can get a clean rag. Maybe when Ellie gets back, you can try to ransack the other houses for anything of use. 

You wait until you have a full slate of clean water before you drink any. When it hits your tongue, you think you might cry. Pacing yourself is so hard. 

He wakes up again when you try to clean the wound with the fabric you’d torn from your ragged t-shirt. Every breath draws bile you have to swallow again and again, a fruitless endeavor that ends with you scrambling to throw up outside, terrified of introducing any other contaminants to his environment. 

When you scrub at the wound, he’s awake enough to struggle with the pain but not awake enough to be aware of what’s happening. So he tries to move away, to fight you off. 

It’s worth it, you tell yourself over and over. You’re able to get some of the dirt away with some soap, and some of the pus flows, but not enough. You don’t put pressure on it, afraid to push the infection deeper. 

The skin around his stitches is puffy, red, and oozing. Dread settles deep. You’re probably going to need to cut them and clean the wound. But not now; you can’t force yourself to at this moment. Plus, you might need Ellie to help in case he tries to fight it. 

Instead, you use a clean corner of the rag to wipe dirt from his face and another to try and drip a little more water into his mouth. Suppressing a sob, you press your lips to the burning skin of his forehead. 

Ellie comes back a few hours later and a few rabbits richer. She’s skinned and prepped them when she comes inside, and you set to boiling the meat and bones. 

The two of you eat the meat, and you spend the rest of the evening trying to drip broth into Joel’s mouth. 

It turns into a rhythm. Joel doesn’t get worse, but he doesn’t get better. Sometimes, he wakes and tries to convince you to leave again, to take Ellie and abandon him. Neither of you are very tolerant of his arguments. 

Once, when you’re alone, he seems a little lucid. Ellie is out checking traps, and you’re sitting helplessly next to Joel, sniffling. You’ve got squirrel boiling in the little can fire, but it takes a long time, leaving you with little to do but wait. 

“Why’re ya cryin’, sweetheart?” His voice cracks from disuse, and he tries to clear his throat. 

You’re up on your knees with the canteen to his lips in an instant. He drinks a little and swats it away, reaching a shaky hand to cup your cheek and brush away a tear with his thumb. 

“I know y’ain’t cryin’ over me,” he scolds. 

It only makes you cry harder, though you scramble to choke it back. You peel his hand from you, holding it for a moment in both of yours before giving it a gentle squeeze and placing it back on the mattress. 

“Let me get you some broth,” you mumble, wiping your eyes on your dusty sleeves. 

He lets you feed him a little. 

“C’mere,” he says when you’ve reluctantly stowed the broth. He tugs you to his uninjured side, and you have to squeeze your eyes tight as you gently curl to him. “Remember when you used to be a good girl and do whatever I’d tell ya?”

“We’re not leaving you, Joel.” You’re so tired of this conversation. Actually, you realize as his heat seeps through your clothes, you’re just so tired. 

“Even though I was gonna leave you?”

“Shit, you’re right,” you say and watch exasperatedly as he has the nerve to look a little hopeful. “You nearly leavin’ me behind in the safest place you know is the same thing as leavin’ you to rot in a random filthy basement.”

“Stubborn brat,” he grumbles before he falls back into a fitful sleep.

BONUS — The one line I wrote for a scene with David:

“something rude,” says David.

*title from "Save Your Tears" by The Weeknd

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #febuwhump #fic: you know you never stood a chance

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

A Clean Slate

Chapter Twelve of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: After Bradley leaves you at the field, you feel adrift. Everything hurts, and in more ways than you'd ever thought possible. It seems like your life encounters disaster after disaster the more time you spend in Pigeon Creek. Is it any wonder that you jump for the chance at recovering the life you've got when Bradley shows up at your house again?

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: Carole being, Carole. She's a warning in and of herself!

Word Count: 4028

A/N: Here we see the aftermath of Bradley's time in Pigeon Creek. Linley's really not feeling great about Bradley anymore. This chapter is where we start to see it. I'm sorry this chapter is late!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

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Your heart feels like it’s shattered into a billion pieces as you find your dad and let him take you home. There’s no way you’re going back to New York today. You feel like you should stay away from the city and lick your wounds in peace a while longer. Carole will be all up in your face, and so will the press, you’re sure, the moment you set foot in your apartment. There’s so much you’ll have to do now. Apologize to Bradley and Carole, return the ring to him, and possibly draft a statement for the press. It makes your stomach roil and your head ache thinking about it.

“Hey, kiddo, I’m making a batch of that plum jam you love so much. Do you want a jar to take back home with you?” 

You don’t respond. You’re draped over the sofa with a wet rag over your face. A part of you is hoping it will fix all of your problems like it’s fixing your migraine. But they don’t go away. Right now, you have two problems you need to solve. The problem between your dad and Bradley, and the problems between you and Bradley.

“Yeah, I’ll take a jar.” You sit upright with a sigh, letting the rag fall into your arms. 

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened between you and the Bradshaws?” You start pacing back and forth in your living room, one, two, three, four steps, about turn, repeat.

“It’s not an easy story to hear. It’s not an easy story to tell. Before I say a word, I need you to know. I wanted to protect you from the man I was when I was in the Navy. I regret so many of my actions during that time. The only thing I don’t is having you.” He sounds exhausted, but you have to know.

You sob a little. “Please, daddy. I have to know. I love Bradley. I’m marrying him. I want him to be my family. I want him to be your family, too.”

For several moments, it is quiet between the two of you, only the sharp snick of your dad’s knife cutting through ripe plums punctuating the silence.

“This all happened in 1986, only a few months before I met your mom. Goose was my best friend in the whole world. I met him on my first rotation aboard ship when I joined the Navy. I’ve told you about my dad, right, kiddo? About how he was considered MIA in Vietnam?” You nod, because you are more than aware. “They used to haze me, beat me up, blame me for every problem. I learned pretty quickly after joining the Navy to never trust another soul. There’d be nobody who could look out for me like I could look out f0r myself. I went through RIO after RIO. Nobody wanted to work with a traitor’s kid. Until I met Goose. Goose protected me from those in my squadron who considered Duke Mitchell’s kid to be as traitorous as his father.”

Your dad sniffles and it’s all you can do to keep from sobbing in concert.

“He was my best friend, my family. We spent every leave together, took liberty together, caused mischief together. When he met Carole, I thought everything would change. But I hadn’t lost my brother. I’d gained a sister instead. I was the best man at their wedding. I wanted to scream from the rooftops when they told me they were expecting. I would have done anything for Goose and Carole. When they put Bradley in my arms at the hospital and told me I was his godfather, I would have done anything for him too.”

“When Bradley was two years old, Goose and I were called to Top Gun.” He hums gently, pulling another plum from the colossal stack and cutting into it. He doesn’t waste a single drop of the sweet juice.

“We were cocky. We thought we were the best of the best. But so did everyone else there. It was hard. We fought for our place in the rankings every day. Family day came and went, bringing Carole and Bradley to North Island.” He has a sad smile on his face as he methodically cuts up plum after plum. “Goose was so happy to see them. We took them out on the town, showed them around North Island. We did everything to make their visit the happiest. Then Hop 31 happened. I flew through your Uncle Ice’s jetwash, we went into a flat spin, and the engines failed. We had to eject. The canopy didn’t eject fully and since Goose pulled his ejector first, he hit the canopy. It severely compacted his spine.”

“The Navy had to discharge him honorably on medical grounds. There was an investigation afterward, one in which I was cleared. But after nearly losing Goose, I never wanted to fly again. So I left the Navy. I went to New York a few times after the accident to see Goose and Carole and Bradley. But it wasn’t the same. Goose and I were the same, but Carole? Carole looked at me with hatred in her eyes. By hurting Goose, I destroyed all of the hopes she had in expanding her family. She always wanted to give Bradley little brothers and sisters. My third or fourth time in New York, she told me never to come back again. She said it was hurting Goose too much to see me walking around when he’d never be able to again. So I never went back to New York. I never saw my brother again.”

You wrap your arms around your dad, relishing in the scent of his cologne, motor oil and fragrant plum juice.

“Thank you for telling me, Dad.” He grins, a crooked upturning of his lips.

That answers the question of the problems between your Dad and Bradley. You believe your dad. You also believe Bradley. His leaving New York and never coming back hurt them both - it probably hurt Goose too. You’re sure you can get the men to talk to each other in the coming months and years. But you know your romantic problems are not so easy to resolve. You did lie to your fiancé for months, hiding the most integral parts of yourself from him. Now he’s angry, and honestly, so are you. If only you hadn’t come back to Pigeon Creek. You could have told Bradley the truth in New York and taken his help to get Jake to sign the papers after all. Visions of Sheriff Garcia and officers from the Greeneville Police Department forcing Jake to sign the papers float through your imagination. But you didn’t tell Bradley earlier. Now you have to fix this problem and shove whatever it is you feel for Jake into the box where it’s been languishing for the past seven years.

“I know you’re thinkin’ that I spoiled things good this time, Dad.” Your voice is subdued, mind turning in circles at the thought of every relationship you’ve destroyed in your life - Jake, your dad, Penny, Amelia, and now Bradley.

“Oh, hon, don’t go accusin’ me of thinkin’.” His laugh rings out through the small kitchen. “I ain’t done anything of the sort.”

“Anyways, kiddo, spoiled’s in the eye of the beholder…” You stand at the counter so you can see the peace on his face as he carefully breaks down the plum in his hand. “Like these plums here. Some people might call them spoiled, but I think that these almost-ruined ones make the sweetest jam.”

It’s true. This jam is your favorite thing to have on toast, pancakes, or stirred into oatmeal. Hell, you’ve even made tea with a spoonful of the flavorful preserves and hot water.

“Do you need any help?” The grin that transforms your father’s face is enough to chase some of your thoughts away.

The quiet, methodical work settles something in your soul. You’ve always enjoyed working with your hands, and making jam seems to settle the frantic rush in your soul just as much as sewing does. You’re just bottling the jam up when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll go see who it is, kiddo. You keep bottling the jam.” You’re not expecting the silence when the door opens, though. Nor are you expecting the continuing silence as your unexpected visitor walks through the door.

“Hi.” Your shock must show on your face because Bradley’s quick to take your hands in his. You’re wearing an apron, and there’s a streak of sticky-sweet jam on your cheek, but he’s looking at you like he’s still in love with you. Should you be feeling hopeful now? Maybe not, but you are hopeful despite all indicators to the contrary.

“Hi. I thought you’d be halfway to New York by now.”

“So did I.”

“So why are you here, Bradley?” You need to know why he’s here. As much as you may hope that he’s here to reconcile, to tell you he forgives you, a part of you isn’t sure you can believe it until you hear it.

“I wanted to know if I’m still your fiancé, Lin, well… that is … if you’ll still have me. I really don’t care what happened down here.” He’s so clearly not looking at your dad as he says the words.

“So... you have a past. I mean, who doesn't? What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future.” You’re frozen. There’s a part of you that isn’t sure if he’s genuine or not, but when he opens his arms to you, you melt into his embrace anyway. 

“Honey, you’ve got jam on your cheek!” His smile is sweet as he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb and licks it off. “It’s as sweet as you are.”

“So, we’re heading up to New York City, huh?” Your dad’s careful question pops the bubble you’re in, the one fueled by mad hope and love.

“Well, Mav, my mom’s the mayor, and she has her heart set on a New York wedding.” At least his tone is outwardly polite.

“I guess I can take off work for your wedding, kiddo.” You smile at your dad, grinning at him. But something about the big New York wedding Bradley had mentioned doesn’t feel right to you anymore.

“Bradley?” At his hum, you continue. “ I, um... actually, I was thinking, maybe we could have the wedding here?”

“Here?”

“In my hometown.”

“Look, Lin, if it’s the cost you’re worrying about, don’t.” It’s a little weird that money is what he’s worrying about. You may live a bit more frugally than Bradley does, but you have money. If you have to pay for a part of a New York wedding, you’re sure you can swing it.

“It’s not the money, Bradley. It’s never about the money down here.” It’s really not. There are bonds amongst the people - the community - in Pigeon Creek that you’ve never felt in New York. You have people you love in New York, sure. But you have so many people you love in Pigeon Creek, too. It doesn’t feel right celebrating without Dorothy, Mickey, Penny, Amelia, and all your old friends anymore.

There’s a smirk on his face as he grins down at you. “You know,” His town is secretive, brimming with barely concealed joy. “A lot of people are expecting us to get married in the city. But, I think a nice, quiet country wedding is just the ticket.”

“Mav, if  you could cover the rehearsal dinner, I’d really like to take care of the rest?” Your heart soars at hearing the obvious olive branch Bradley’s giving your dad.

“I think I can cover that. After all, how many times does your only daughter get married?” Your fledgling smile falls at those words from your dad’s mouth. “Other than before, kiddo.” 

New York City - Mayor’s Office

“What do you mean she’s Mav’s daughter, Bradley?” Of all of the information Bradley’s given his mother since he landed back in New York with Linley an hour ago, that’s the piece of information that she’s fixating on. He’s trailing behind her as she marches through her office like she’s on a warpath. “And then there’s the fact that she has a history with the police in Pigeon Creek?”

“She was never convicted, Mom.”

“Oh-ho! I don’t know which is worse: that she’s a child cat killer, that her dad’s a part of the sons of the Confederacy or that her dad is Maverick Fucking Mitchell.”

Bradley can’t tell which is worse either. As of now the fact that she's a Mitchell is trumping everything else. “What would you suggest I do, Mom? Dump her for being poor? Or hell, because her dad is who he is? Didn’t somebody say something about the sins of the father not applying to their children?”

Bradley walks towards the small lounge area where his mom likes to take interviews from her office. She always maintains that this particular location showcases all of her best sides. “You’re supposed to be a Democrat, remember?” He sits down on the sofa as he asks her that question.

“There is nothing wrong with being poor.” His mom’s eyes flash as she stares him down. “I get elected by poor people. And I’m a big enough person to commend her for making something of herself.”

She sits down next to him, and it’s been so long since Bradley’s seen her as a mother that he forgot how comforting her perfume smells. “What upsets me is that she lied to you.”

To her credit, the great Carole Bradshaw does indeed look like she’s worried. Worried about Bradley, for Bradley. Though Bradley would bet that her true worry is over the nosedive her polling numbers are going to take once they find out that Bradley’s marrying a nobody turned semi-successful fashion designer instead of a Southern heiress turned semi-successful fashion designer. 

His tone is deliberately nonchalant as he looks at his mom. “So what? She was ashamed of her background. Who hasn’t been embarrassed by their parents at one point?”

Bradley’s poking the bear. He has been embarrassed by both of his parents. When he was younger his embarrassment was in how they were always all over each other. Their love was disgusting in that wholly teenage way. Now, Bradley’s constantly embarrassed by the fact that his mom is so controlling over his life; because she insists that she knows best even though he’s thirty years old.

“I’m going to assume that was a rhetorical question.” Bradley’s quite content to let her think so.

“Assume away.” The fact that she’s still glaring as she walks away means that he’s hit a sensitive spot. But it has him rising as well, because he’s not going to let her intimidate him into doing something he doesn’t want to.

“No one is going to change my mind about this.” Bradley’s sure she’s going to try to dissuade him, again. “Not you, not the media, not anyone.”

“Fine, Brad. But admit it, I was right.” There’s victory in her gaze as she walks up to face him down.

“Yes, you were right. But she came clean. Now can we move on?” Please, can Carole Bradshaw’s one track mind be de-railed already?

“There is a wedding in your future, after all, whether you like it or not.” As if Bradley could forget - he’s just mentioning the wedding to get his mom off of the Linley and lying topic. It’s a decision he’s still not sure of. In truth he’d headed back to the Mitchell house in Pigeon Creek because he’d taken a look at his own polling numbers. People loved the fact that he was engaged. Then there’s Linley’s own chosen profession. It would be easy enough for her to stop fashion designing if his career demanded it. He could use a lovely leading lady on his arm after all for the endless rounds of fundraising galas and for swearing-in ceremonies.

“And how, exactly, does Little Miss Alabama plan to accommodate 500 people? I suppose she has connections at the jail?” 

Hah! Bradley would pay to see Mayor Carole Bradshaw living out of a jail cell for the wedding. “Well, there are several excellent choices.” There's definitely a grin on his face as he lists out the options, if only because his mom seems angrier the more low-brow they get. “There's also a Travelodge, a Days Inn, a Motel 6 …  oh, and the Golden Cherry Motel, where we will be.”

It’s obvious she’s less than amused. “Laugh now, but if this gets out, Bradley…”

“It won’t.” Bradley’s going to ensure it. As far as the press is concerned, Bradley Bradshaw is still marrying Linley Floyd of the Greeneville Floyds. It’s going to be a closed wedding, no press. The Bradshaws will be controlling the narrative every step of the way. “Anyways, mom, the press is expecting the Plaza in June. They’re not going to find out.”

New York City - Linley’s Apartment

It feels weird being back in New York City again. You’re the same person who left New York less than a week ago, but now you can feel it, how little you fit in. You’re lying on your bed flipping idly through one of the most recommended wedding magazines of the year. But it’s not keeping your attention - nothing about place settings or napkins or flower arrangements is. If you could kick your brain, you would. All you’re thinking about is Jake. Jake, Jake, Jake. The day you fell in love. The day your life changed. The day you left. But more than those days in the past, you’re eagerly thinking about the days you’ve experienced more recently with Jake - or well maybe you should say that you’re thinking about the one night you’ve spent with Jake recently. 

It’s surreal how one night with your ex, a man you haven’t seen in nearly a decade, was more of everything you've been yearning for than the past eight months with your fiancé. Now the wedding plans are underway. It doesn’t feel right, what Bradley and his mom are planning. They’re bringing the media into town, cherry-picking journalists and photographers to spin this wedding the way they want it to be spun. Isn’t this wedding supposed to be about you and Bradley? Apparently not. Instead you feel like this is all about Bradley and his polling numbers.

The worst part is how there isn’t a person you can talk to. If you talk to Nat, all she mentions is her excitement for the wedding and how lucky you are to have Bradley in your life. But the more you think about it, the more you’re sure you only want to talk to one person. You’ve been holding yourself back from calling him for seven years now. You definitely can’t call him now. But you feel like you know exactly what he’s doing.

It’s a Sunday night, so Jake’s probably home with his mom and Amelia watching the football game. You can picture the languid sprawl his limbs are arranged in on Penny’s worn plush sofa. He’s probably wearing a football jersey and worn jeans, feet bare with Bryant curled up against his hip. His green eyes are probably narrowed at the screen, every inch of his body tense as he tracks the oblong football across the screen. Everything else will have faded away for him. The only important thing in his sights is probably the football game. There had been a time where you’d been able to pull his attention away. When you were younger, he used to pull you into his arms as he lay there on the sofa, turning you until you were comfortably ensconced in his embrace as his hands traced absent minded patterns against your stomach. That had been how he’d felt the baby kick, in those weeks before happily ever after crashed down around your ears. But now, you’re simply alone, lying on your bed and flipping through magazines with words that barely make sense, in a city which never sleeps and where you feel like you have no friends.

Or well, maybe you have one? It’s Tash on the phone, “Hey Linley! I feel like I haven’t seen you at all since you got back from Alabama!”

“Hey Tash.” Your voice is subdued as you roll across your bed, mussing the pristine sheets and knocking your pillows out of place. “I’ve missed you, too. But since I got back, I’ve just been planning the wedding.”

“Now why does it sound like you said The Wedding in all-caps?” Her gasp is over dramatic and you can practically see the way her almond shaped eyes narrow as her brain goes into overdrive. People always forget that models have brains. Nat never wanted to be a model full time. She was originally studying Business Management, wanting to start her own fashion house. But starting fashion houses needs money and influence in addition to a good head for business. “Fuck, Lin. Is Carole Bradshaw being an absolute bitch about this wedding?” 

“She’s been more than a little annoying, yeah, Tash.” It makes your skin crawl just thinking about the meeting you’d had with Carole in her sprawling penthouse apartment the day after you came back to New York. You can still remember the hopelessness you’d felt at the sight of the fabric samples, cutlery, flower arrangements, invitations and more laid across the formal dining table. Carole had disregarded every decision you’d made and by the end of the neverending decisions about the wedding, your head was splitting. That was when she’d started talking about the venue. 

“This place is gorgeous and we can control the security.” You’re not sure when she had the time to do this because she had picture after picture of the Floyd Plantation house.

“The Floyd Plantation?” It rankled a little as Carole patted your hand condescendingly.

“It did inspire your identity, didn’t it?” Oh, if only she knew. You’d picked the name of your other best friend for a reason. You’d picked Floyd as more than a wish for affluence. You’d picked Floyd as a wish for success, for happiness. It hadn’t helped that you’d seen Beau Simpson’s fakely polite smile the entire time you were at the manor either. In fact, you’re pretty sure the pictures Carole has of Floyd Plantation are from his foray into Floyd Plantation without permission.

You’re still reeling as you recount the whirlwind that Carole Bradshaw had become when you were talking about the arrangements.

“God, Lin! Did the old witch let you make any choices on your own?” You have to laugh at that. It’s obvious the Tash is calling you in between photo shoots because you can hear so much noise in the background.

“It doesn’t feel like she’s letting me pick out much, Tash. But she is letting me pick my dress, of course.” Tash’s laughter makes you laugh just a little too, your existential dread lifting just a little at the sound. “Do you want to come with me?”

“You’re serious?!” She sounds like she’s jumping up and down in her makeup chair.

“You’re one of my best friends, Tash! Of course I want you there!”

The next four weeks are filled with conversations like that one - light and easy but not emotionally fulfilling. You’re surrounded by more people than you ever have been in New York but you feel lonelier than ever. The night after your first wedding dress fitting, you give in to the urge and dial the number you’ve had in your thoughts ever since you left Pigeon Creek. Each ring makes the nerves and sorrow rise in your chest as you struggle to find the joy in planning this wedding. The days turn to weeks as you call and call and call. But when the busy tone turns into the announcement that the number you’re trying to reach has been disconnected, you know it’s time. You’ve made your bed, it’s time to lie in it.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #sweet home alabama #a top gun au #star's sweet home alabama top gun au #jake hangman seresin x oc #hangman x oc #jake seresin x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc

[cookierin-simp]

SH33PCH4N_! - A DIRTY FANFICTION OF OBEY ME

Part 1

In which : you pursued as an 18+ cam girl in the human world

pairing: Lucifer X fem reader

a/n : hiii I'm back and honestly, I think this one, there aren't much of dialogues. I promised to include more dialogue for sh33pch4n part 2!

"have you seen it, Mammon? "

Asmodeus said as he held his brother's palm for a free manicure. It wasn't just the two of them in the House Of Lamentations living room. There are seven of them there with their activities. Though they didn't mind their own business, of course, it was a very lively living room when all of them gathered together.

Beel was chowing down almost all of the food that was worth 30 years of stock. Belphegor, on the other hand, was trying to sleep on the couch but kept getting disturbed by the noises so he was very irritated and decide to engage in a conversation with Satan, talking about how to prank Lucifer with the love potion. The blonde demon, who was reading a book about human mental health, marked the last pages he was reading and closed them. His interests were piqued by the way Belphie drafted the idea. Asmodeus and Mammon were in their bonding moment. The peach-haired demon was showing Mammon all of his white nail polish collections from expensive to overpriced. The manicure session turned into a heated gossip.

The sound of the RPG game came from Leviathan DevilTendo as he kept bragging about how much he had progressed from level one to level 30 in three days. Lucifer was just... there. He thought he need to spend more time with his family so he just sits there and exists. As he sipped his poisonous tea (which was his favourite ) and thanks to Leviatahan, he can relax with classical music as the lotan commander lend him his noise cancelling headphones.

Noisy couldn't describe the situation. It was deafening, it was ear-splitting and yet it is a normal thing in that mansion.

Asmo went for Mammon's sweet finger as he painted it carefully while he whispered very quietly to his brother's ear. "have you watched it? "

Mammon respond with his expression as he reveals the wrinkles on his face which means 'what the fuck are you talking about'

Asmodeus pinched the white-haired demon's hair as he yelped with pain. "Ouch, ya goddamn demon stop it! " he whimpered.

Asmodeus whispered again "THAT video" and Mammon's face emitted soft red at his face when he finally understood what video was his little brother referring to.

"uh... I... y...yeah" Mammon covers his face with the back of his hand. He felt so hot to his ears whenever he remembered every detail of the video that Asmo shared.

"it was magnificent, isn't it? " one of Asmo's eyebrows lifted as he shot a sly grin to tease Mammon because, for him, it's such an amazing view to see anyone, no matter if it was a demon, an angel or a human to blush over dirty thoughts. Plus, the smell of someone getting aroused is extremely aromatic, and he smells a hint of it from Mammon.

"do you remember what her voice sounds like and how it bounces? Oh my god, she's ethereal. I have known the aphrodite for a while and sometimes I feel like she was at the same aphrodite level of beauty and seduction. She may even exceed! " Asmo squealed, clearly forgetting he was doing Mammon's nail

Mammon covers his already rose-tinted face with one palm as Asmodeus kept talking about how amazing the video was.

"but are you sure it was y/n? " the embarrassed demon asked.

Lucifer heard your name and to him, everything stops.

Though the music was still blasting, your name still get ahold of the pride demon. It triggers everything in him. His emotions, his desires, his needs and his memories.

He acts normal and shows no interest in Mammon and Asmo's conversation. But he did turn off the classical music he was playing to listen. Well, a little eavesdropping would not hurt, right?

Asmo motioned a 'shhh' to Mammon. He pinched Mammon's ear again and whispered something that even Lucifer couldn't hear.

"oh come on, they were all so occupied with their own thing, they didn't hear everything I just said! " the yellow-hued eyes demon tries to be convincing but Asmo for one didn't buy it.

Deep inside Lucifer's mind, he was racing with one thought.

"What is happening with y/n that I did not aware of?"

__________________________________________________________

Lucifer's pride was hurt. He was more than furious. If he never trains to maintain himself, he would have turned into his demon form and crashed Mammon's door to see what is he up to.

How dare Mammon kept you as a secret like it was his little playtime toy. Lucifer always mentally labelled you as his and his only. The thought of someone else keeping you a secret left a scar on his sin.

But just as he wanted to relax in his bedroom, he heard a lewd tone through Mammon's door. He was always aware that all of his brothers masturbated and sometimes it annoys him that they never knew how to keep quiet at night. He also pleased himself a few times but he made sure to be silent about it.

To think nothing of it, Lucifer brushed off the moan until he realised it was a women's tone.

Who could Mammon possibly let her in, without his permission and have sex? Lucifer's eyes filled with rage along with a black diamond appear at the centre of his forehead.

He was more than ready to bang on his sweet brother's door until he realised the moan glitched and for a few seconds, it returned to normal.

He didn't invite any girl, he was watching porn.

But the rages didn't end there as Lucifer realised that tone was recognisable. It was from someone he could never forget, someone he was always smitten with and vowed to protect her even if it means him dying most embarrassingly.

It was your voice.

Of course, to acknowledge your voice of moan made his breath stuck in that demon's throat. He felt his chest tightening. Was the faint sound of you begging for more just a mere hallucination? Yes, Lucifer did miss you. In fact, the word missing wasn't exaggerated enough. He craves your scent and for every howled of Devildom's air blowing his hair, the old feeling of your finger running through his fur aches his heart.

He missed you more than anything. Sexually and romantically.

Yet to hear a moan exactly like you, he cursed at himself. What porn sites did Mammon search to find someone who could replicate your sex voice?

He doesn't want to walk away from it. Instead, the pride demon who has himself overtaken with lust leans towards Mammon's door. His crotch formed a tent and it hurt to not touch it. He was tempted by the voice. He's tempted to stroke his cock.

Lucifer was baffled. It's been almost a year since you went back to the human world and he never had sex with other succubi just to save the dick for you. Well, he did masturbate a few times and it's all thanks to the thoughts of you sucking him all dry whenever he's on bed.

"fuck it" he whispered as he unbuckled his expensive pant. His cock was out. All hardened and throbbing by the sound of you. His precum was leaking, he was in a complete pathetic state by just the sound of yours. The fact it was just your voice, just imagine if he saw your body.

As he didn't waste his sense of hearing, he kept listening through his brother's door.

"mmm... you would like that won't you? " the voice spoke in the most seductive tone. Every word was utter with a whine which make perverted Lucifer completely out of control.

Lucifer's right-hand storke his dick in slow motion, making sure to follow the breath of the voice moan. His mind pictured your face, truly and no doubt that it was your voice. Does that mean Mammon have your sex tape? If yes, why can he have the same treatment? Is it because Mammon was your first?

"n.. not there... you're going to make a mess!! " the lewd tone causes Lucifer to massage his cock a little bit rougher. "ha.. y/n.. " now it was his turn to whimper.

"shit, please suck me... " the demon begged in silence as his hand still sinned down there. He remembered the last time your pussy wall felt around his cock skin. The way his dick pumped whenever he thrust it deep inside of you and the euphoric feeling when the tip of his penis hits the deep end of your pussy.

He remembered it all in detail the day he fucked you. The way you screamed his name, the needy beg for more and the taste of your sweat. The voices, it's definitely you.

As his mind played the old sex of you and him, he was already out of his breath yet his stroke game is still going on. Lucifer closed his eyes as he realised he was in his climax soon. The voice kept on cursing dirty words and it triggered Lucifer to cum even faster.

"you.... ah fuck... can come.. inside of me.. " that danger line was finally out.

The thoughts of you letting him breed inside excite the firstborn. He always dreamed to fill your pussy with his loaded, stuffed you like a pie with vanilla cream inside. If you agreed, he would love to be a father to your kid. He'll spoil you so much when you're pregnant with his very first child. The idea of creating a family with you always will be a dream that only happened when he fell asleep.

"oh, y/n... " Lucifer felt as if his stomach almost untied the knot. "I... I'm going to c...come..." his needy tone was faint as a cautious so he'll not get caught acting like Asmodeus. "come.... inside of you... "

By the time he finished the sentence, his moan was all out. Luckily his other hand covered his mouth or else, Asmodeus will definitely take advantage of his vulnerability right now.

"nggh... " to avoid traces of his thick cum staining the HoL's carpet, he uncovered his mouth and bring the palm down to the tip of his twitched cock. Lucifer's eagerly pumped all of his seeds out as the cum gathered on his palm.

"hhnngh.. " he took one last breath, realising he's now feeling so hot from all of that adrenaline that kicks in during his masturbation process.

He peeked the semen onto his hand and smirked: "this is all your fault y/n"

__________________________________________________________

The family breakfast was quite the usual. Mammon babbling about the casino, Asmodeus having a live stream of his breakfast, Beelzebub basically consuming three-course meals, Satan with his mature act by eating while reading, Belphie who is awake because he accidentally slept in a soup and now his face was all wet, Leviathan was still in his room as he stayed up last night and Lucifer who is going through his files of paperwork even when it's breakfast which annoys you sometimes.

"I think I can finish 100 paperwork by the time the clock hits 6 pm" Lucifer's face expressed joy as he said that to himself. He put the paper back into the file and gently locked it as the paper was supposed to be confidential.

BRRR

A notification came through Mammon's DDD but the second demon was too occupied with laughter as he saw how pissed Belphegor was when his face dunks inside the soup.

sh33pch4n_ posted a new video!

Lucifer's eyes locked at his brother's DDD and somehow, the username sounds familiar, it felt like someone somehow once uttered it to him.

Lucifer's forehead create thousands of wrinkles when he tried to remember every single creature he ever met for the past 8000 years just so he could recall the username.

Until he remembered how you once told him with joy when both of you playfully suggested a pet name.

"so... can I call you Luci? " you carved a smile along with displaying your teeth. Your eyes emit pretty orbs and Lucifer couldn't say no to that.

"fine, but do it only when we're alone" the so-called demon agreed nonchalantly as if this discussion weren't mattered, but he actually look forward to it.

"and for me......let's see.... " your finger brushed your chin as a sign of trying to think of the best pet name.

"babe would be lame, baby? I am not a kid. Sayang? You wouldn't understand that language..... " you mumbled alone while eyes locked on the floor of Lucifer's office in RAD.

Suddenly, just as if the bulb appeared above your head, you finally have a pet name for Lucifer to call you.

"sheep! " you smiled

"sheep? " Lucifer confused

"People always go with kitty, and you preferred me to call you a sheep? " he continued

You nod with the most beautiful smile placed on your face. The pride demon can't do anything about it. What's your wish is his wish too.

"It's okay, my sheep, as long as you're happy"

_______

"uh oh"

and so, he stood up, alerting all of the brothers that he needs to leave early as he have a private meeting with Diavolo. His breakfast was untouched and there were no lip prints on his cup either.

"at least have some before you go" Mammon suggested because he knew it would be hell to handle a big thing when you're not filling yourself up with some foods or snacks. It's common sense to acknowledge the danger of starving. It's not like Beel should only be the one who knows about starving and all.

"I am fine, excuse me"

Lucifer left the dining room without thinking twice.

__________________________________________________________

"Karasu, download StripTwitch "

Lucifer used the technology of a personal system for DDD that will listen to what you'll say. It's like having a butler, but trapped inside a phone!

"StripTwitch is the only app for 18+, are you sure to continue? " Karasu spoke again through the speaker of Lucifer's DDD. It was a human word app and it's safe to say how much of Ruri-chan merch Levi got for modifying Lucifer's phone so he can also have access to human world entertainment. He was driving, which explained why he's using the feature right now. His stylish car has a hint of masculine fragrance. He placed a phone holder on the dashboard near the steering wheel. He gripped the black steering wheel with one hand as the other one lay down on his thigh.

"yes" he met with a road bend and slightly turn the steering to the left. "And please Karasu, after you've done that, create my account with a fake name and follow sh33pch4n_"

________________________

a/n : do inform me if you are interested for part 2!

________________________

#obey me shall we date #obey me #mammon obey me #mammon x mc #om! mammon #lucifer obey me #obey me smut #obey me prompts #obey me lucifer #obey me! #lucifer obey me x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer x mc #smut obey me #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic #shall we date lucifer #smut

[waterfreshner]

DONT JUDGE ME I FOUND THIS IN MY DRAFTS DONT TAKE JT SERIOUSLY

Background:

You and Miguel had a son two years ago after getting married. An accident happened, and Vulture 2099 killed him as an infant. It devastated you, but it hit Miguel harder since it was the second time he lost a kid. The only thing keeping you together was caring for your husband, channeling your maternal energies into making sure he was doing well and wasn't entirely swallowed by grief. Now you have gotten into a new rhythm and went out to your anniversary dinner, and now you have broken the news to Miguel…….. Your period is two weeks late, and you just took a pregnancy test.

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

“I'm home!” I shouted down the hall, throwing my keys on the counter.

“I'm in here!” he replied from the bedroom.

I entered the room to find him lounging on the bed in his regular civilian clothes. He didn't have many days off, and I came home early just to spend time with him since I rarely got to cuddle with my husband, wear sweatpants, watch telenovelas, and eat snacks.

“What's up? How's your day been?” he asks as I collapse on the bed

“It was a day,” I sigh, rubbing my temple. “Susan was a bitch again today, and of course, nobody did anything to help.”

I move next to Miguel, and he puts his arm around my shoulder. “I am glad to be home with you,” I say, smiling at him

I look at Miguel and see how relaxed he is; his hair is unkempt, and his dark circles aren't as prominent as they used to be. He looks good like this, domestic and happy. I hate knowing that this will probably change soon the second I show him the pregnancy test hidden in my purse.

“I’m glad you're home too,” Miguel says before kissing me on the forehead. I zone out, staring at my wallet, until I hear Miguel talking to me gently

“¿Qué ocurre?’ he asked, looking at me worriedly.

“I'm fine,” I groan as I stand up.

I couldn't keep this from him; he deserves to know. I seemed to leave my body as I watched myself slowly stand up from the bed and walk to my purse while Miguel moved his attention back to his show. Time seemed to slow as I grabbed the test and sat back down.

“What did you get me?” Miguel inquires, sitting up and looking at me.

I take a deep breath and try to map out what I'm going to say. It should be short and sweet, easy and simple.

“I'm pregnant,” I mutter under my breath, not truly believing the words myself.

“What?” Miguel says, looking at the test with a puzzled expression.

“I'm pregnant,” I repeat louder, pointing at the two lines on the test.

For a moment, I thought I had broken Miguel. He stared at the test for almost a full minute before saying anything.

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

“I'm pretty sure I took three pregnancy tests, and all of them were positive,” I responded gently.

“Have you scheduled any appointments yet to see how far along you are?” he says, finally setting the test down.

“Not yet,” I answer, sitting down, trying to gauge how well he is taking this.

“Do you want to try again?” he turns to face me, gently taking my hand and scanning my face for any sign of uncertainty or grief.

“I think so,” I respond quietly, squeezing his hand slightly

“Ok then,” he says before picking up his phone, immediately making an appointment at the nearest clinic, and then setting his phone back down.

Neither of us knew what to say or how to respond. We just sat there hugging and staring at the positive test with doubt, wondering if we were ready to be parents again after the loss of our son (INSERT BABY NAME HERE). The rest of the evening, we were in some kind of denial. We went about our everyday routine as if nothing had happened, except I noticed Miguel was being more careful around me. He moved me out of the way of bumping into things and told me to sit down because I'd been standing for “so long.” Even though I was only on my feet for 15 minutes, he wouldn't even let me help cut vegetables for dinner.

“Miguel, I'm not made of glass,” I say exasperatedly. I'm pregnant.”

“hi, pregnant. I'm Dad,” he says with a shit-eating grin before doing a little dance, aka hitting the griddy because he is a silly goose on the loose, and he desires to choke slam fifteen-year-olds into trains and tell them they are a mistake. 😀

#miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #honestly #home decor #astv miguel #astv #dungeons and dragons #first post