#TERRIBLY SORRY FOR THE HORRIBLE LATE RESPONSE

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 3 4 6 7 💐

Eddie turned around, finding none other than the flower nazi. His nametag actually said Steve. 

He had a leaf stuck in his hair, and his nose was abnormally rosy. Going by that and his nasal tone, he clearly had a cold. He sneezed, then looked annoyed at himself for doing so. “Ugh, sorry,” he apologized. 

He was fucking adorable. It made Eddie smile. “Don’t be. I don’t really need help.” Not with flowers, anyway, just with everything else about his life. “I’m only browsing.” 

It was a weird response, he realized. A guy like him, who looked like he belonged anywhere else, loitering in a shop like this. Just browsing. Right. Steve probably thought he was a creep. 

Steve was surprised to hear that the man wasn’t looking for anything. Last time, he had bought something, so Steve had assumed he was a returning customer. He had been staring at the wedding arrangement, so maybe he was trying to figure out if Harrington Floral was the best place to get them from.

“That’s some talent you’ve got,” Eddie added, pointing to the display.

Steve felt himself flush. “Thanks,” he said softly, ducking his head bashfully. It wasn’t usually guys who were doling out compliments on the displays. Typically, they just asked for his advice on what they should buy for their significant others.

The redness that bloomed on Steve’s cheeks was just plain delightful. It could have been due to his illness, but Eddie was pretty sure it was a reaction to his compliment. His smile widened. “You made it, right?”

“Yes, I did. I make all the displays.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, missing the leaf by a mere centimeter. “I think I saw you last month when I was building one in the window over there. Are you sure you’re not interested in anything?”

Instead of answering, Eddie reached out and plucked the leaf out of Steve’s hair. “Sorry, you had a little bud-dy trying to catch a ride there. Was distracting the hell out of me.” Eddie showed him the small, curvy leaf. 

Steve laughed, which made him cough a little. After clearing his throat, he got back to business. Steve was all about closing a sale, so he pushed a little. “Are you or someone you know getting married? I can, uh…” he thought quickly, “give you a free bouquet as a testimony to how well our flowers will hold up. I was just pruning the roses before you came in. What do you think about a bouquet of them?”

Steve remembered Eddie. And he’d laughed at Eddie’s horrible pun. But Eddie was caught off guard by the questions and the offering. Steve was observant. “I can’t let you do that,” he said. “My uncle is getting married. Hopefully. He hasn’t popped the question yet.”

It would be kind of terrible of him to accept free flowers if it didn’t work out and they never ordered any.

“That’s exciting,” Steve responded.

Genuinely, he felt like it was. Steve loved love. Working in a flower shop would be hard if he was bitter about being single. Also, the fact that someone else around his age wasn’t getting married made him feel a bit better about his own love life. Lately, it seemed like all his friends were getting hitched.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, contemplating. He pocketed the little leaf. “I’m meeting the bride-to-be tonight. I suppose making a nice first impression wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He could give the flowers to Wayne to present to Kathleen when she came over. “How much for half a dozen?”

That was probably all he could afford, but he would be paying.

Eddie wasn’t selling as much anymore. Just weed, no powders or pills. Not since he’d discovered that one of his regulars had recently overdosed on Molly. He was at least partially responsible for that. He should have questioned the steadily increasing amount the guy was buying, but he had only been thinking about the money.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Steve had no intention of taking any money for the bouquet. 

He walked around the store and started building it. Steve picked out four roses in red and pink, then added two pastel-dyed Asiatic lilies and sprinkled in a few strands of baby’s breath.

When he was finished, he went to the counter to put them down. He grabbed the twine and unrolled some tissue paper. “I’m sure there won’t be any more customers tonight. I’m kind of in charge, so I can totally give you these for free. Because I want to.”

Eddie pressed his lips together briefly, walking over and planting his forearms on the counter. He wasn’t some charity case. He didn’t like having debts, either. Maybe Steve had seen the type of clothes he wore and automatically assumed Eddie was trailer park trash who couldn’t afford it.

But Steve was smiling at him, looking sweet as a goddamn sugar cookie, and Eddie relaxed, rejecting the thought. That just didn’t seem right.

(Though why Steve wanted to give anyone, let alone Eddie, free flowers was a mystery.)

“You’re the boss, huh?” Eddie said. Steve looked young to own the shop, but maybe he was one of the Harringtons.

The name rang a bell. Steve Harrington. Dustin used to talk about a Steve during D&D. Gushed more than talked, really. Was he the same one?

“Technically, it’s my mom’s shop, but I’ve been running it for a while now,” Steve said. He couldn’t take all the credit.

Eddie gently drummed the counter, rings click-clacking as he watched those nimble fingers cut, tie, and wrap. His mom’s store. Well, wasn’t that precious.

Steve gave the bouquet one last critical look and a fluff with his fingers before handing it over. “With these, I think you’ll make the best impression. Maybe your uncle will even pop the question tonight!” Steve was excited for the groom to be even though he didn’t know him.

Eddie accepted the bouquet and looked down at it. “Thank you. It’s stunning.” Kind of like you.

He didn’t say that last part out loud, though he thought it hard enough that he’d probably projected it into Steve’s head.

Steve felt his face heat again. He didn’t know why he was reacting this way to the compliments. When women complimented his arrangements, he barely blinked.

Eddie brought the bouquet to his nose to smell its perfume. It brought another smile to his face before he lowered it. If Kathleen didn’t end up liking them, she was crazy.

Steve watched Eddie, grinning. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Eddie’s gaze flickered up. He lowered the bouquet. Why were they both smiling like fucking idiots? “Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. Let me get you a card—you know, in case your uncle does propose and will need flowers from somewhere.” Steve grabbed one of the embellished business cards from the stack beside the register.  

Eddie reached out to take it, and Steve sneezed again just as their fingers brushed. It was a big sneeze that made his face screw up and nearly blew him backward. Luckily, he managed to cover his nose before he bombed Eddie. Eddie tried not to laugh at his irritated expression and soft whine as he sniffled.

Eddie pocketed the card and tugged his handkerchief out at the same time. “Here,” he offered kindly, holding it out to Steve.

It was his favorite hanky, his pirate one with the skull and bones, but it was the least he could do. 

Without thinking much about it, Steve took it and blew his nose. He let out a soft sigh, feeling a little better. Then he realized what he’d done. “Sorry…this is kinda gross now. Do you want it back?” 

“Oh no—no, that’s yours now,” Eddie said hastily. “I insist. Consider it a token of my gratitude.” He lowered himself in a teasing bow. “Farewell, Steve, fine sir.”

So, so fine. Even with all the snot.

Eddie backed out of the store, still bent over for extra theatricality. When he straightened up, Steve looked confused but was red in the cheeks again. Score.

On the ride home, Eddie almost missed a turn because he kept glancing at the bouquet.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

#fic #wybmb #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie au #florist au #florist!steve harrington #🌹🌹🌹🌹

[masonreds]

mason mount x reader

theme: angst & smut

word count: 9.5k words

Why you had agreed to this, you had no idea.

Even now, as you say across from an uncomfortably blank chair, every part of your body is screaming at you to run. To run away. To run the few blocks to the nearest train station and get the hell out of here.

To get away from this terrible, horrible, very bad idea.

Your attention was drawn again to the time on your phone. With the glaring 7:28, you knew that there were exactly two minutes left until the agreed time of 7:30 PM, and as soon as that time came, you would set off a timer for a generous fifteen minutes.

If he wasn’t in this chair across from you at 7:45PM, sharp, you would give into your body’s response and bolt.

And then that would be it right? You’d be able to put everything that happened into a box sealed with a pretty little bow, store it away to be forgotten and move the fuck on.

You could deal with that.

At least you’d hope so.

You checked your phone again.

7:29PM.

The waiter comes back to your table, dropping the two glasses of water, some bread and butter, a bottle of wine to share between the two of you and two wine glasses.

You probably shouldn’t have done it.

Would it send him the wrong message?

No. There’s nothing wrong with being polite. Be the bigger person.

Besides if his taste buds has somehow changed in a month and a half, and if he wanted something else to drink he could order it himself once he showed up.

That’s if he showed up.

Immediately after the waiter turned his back on you, you reached for the wine bottle and your glass, pouring yourself a glass of wine and took a huge gulp, trying to mentally prepare yourself. Trying to remind yourself that despite what you were feeling, you did have the upper hand here, and you could leave at any time you wanted.

You checked your phone once again as you put your wine glass down on the table.

7:30PM.

He gets a generous fifteen minutes and that’s it. You remind yourself sternly.

The second that thought formed in your head, the door to the restaurant flew open and your eyes betrayed your attempt to stay calm in all of this, immediately your eyes found Mason entering in a rush.

You continued to watch, keeping your expression blank as he weaved through the tables to get to you, sitting down in his seat with a hushed but rushed ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t think the traffic would be so bad, and my Uber driver took his pleasant time coming and-’ he got an Uber because he knew he would be drinking. He fancied a drink.

‘Breathe, it’s fine.’ You say gently, interrupting him.

Mason exhales, taking off his jacket and letting it hang of back of his seat. His hand went through his hair to ruffle it up slightly, then he finally looks at you.

Your stomach twists.

Shit.

You were worried about this. You managed to get over him - well, about 78% over him, at least - but you were worried that the minute he gave you his full attention, the minute you looked into his eyes, you’d be pulled back into his orbit and it would be like the last month and a half you’d spent trying to get over him, your relationship, and all the memories tied up in between, would have been for nothing.

His expression, falters, and the instant smile that spreads across his face when you manage to maintain eye contact longer than a second is brilliantly bright.

‘Hi,’ Mason breathes. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘You’re technically right on time,’ you counter, then lower your gaze to the glass of wine in front of you, trying to look anywhere but at him.

He was annoyingly perfect, you can’t deny that.

His eyeliner follows yours, and there’s a look on his face which you instantly recognise, you can only describe it as fond as it takes over his face. ‘You ordered for me?’

‘Just the drinks,’ you clarify. ‘The waiter said he’d be back to take our orders once you were here.’

‘Well,’ he says, looking into your eyes, ‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’

You shrug, not really considering it as a big deal and he leans toward clasping his hands on the table when he takes a deep breath and says, ‘Thank you for agreeing to meeting me here. You have no idea how much it means to me.’

You assess him a little, and when you find he’s being sincere, all you can do is nod. There’s still a ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. You just never know what he’s going to come out with.

Mason can clearly sense this, can sense that you’ve been keeping yourself at a a distance, he moves his chair forward, ‘I know things didn’t necessarily end well, and I wanted to apologise for that. I wanted to talk this out. Talk about us.’

You nod again, because he said this when he called you out of the blue this morning, but it’s what he comes out with next that nearly gives you a whiplash.

‘I want to give this another shot.’

You blink. Partially stunned.

He wants to what?

This is not what you expected him to say, at all.

When he called, said he wanted to talk about everything, you assumed it was for closure, assumed it was so they could maybe finish the half angry conversation you had the day you broke up, when he called it quits and walked out.

You hadn’t been expecting…this.

‘You…what??’ You manage to stutter out.

He nods, grabbing a bread slice and a butter knife, spreading a thin layer of butter on it. Making sure he does it for you first then himself - a habit of his now, you’d think this is all completely normal now.

‘Yeah,’ Mason says, gaining confidence with each word he speaks. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that day. About what you’ve been trying to tell me this whole time, and you’re right. I wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend to you. I didn’t put you first, I took advantage of you, got scared, and when it mattered most to you, I couldn’t give what you needed, but that’s not true anymore.’

He puts a bread slice on your little plate in front of you, then goes about making his own, continuing on like you’re not sat there staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock. ‘I know I said a lot of things. Horrible things. Things that I didn’t mean. And I know I can never take it back, but I hope I can at least try to make things better?’

Watching you, Mason takes a moment, gauges your reaction. You realise he’s waiting for you to say something, but the only thing you can manage to say is a small ‘huh.’

Mason swollows the lump in his throat, ‘I uh, I know there’s a lot of information to take in right now, and I know I have a lot to explain to you, but I wanted to at least put all my cards on the table as to where I’m coming from.’

It’s all a bit too much, and you feel like your body malfunctions a bit, your hands coming up to stop him from talking any further. ‘I’m sorry, I just need a second to process this.’

He closes his mouth, nodding, watching you closely, eyes getting a little wide as you grab your wine glass again to take another large gulp, nearly downing it, before reaching for your buttered bread slice and taking a bite to calm your nerves. You both sit there, Mason watching you, and when you finish off your bread a couple of minutes later, you manage to gather some courage, you hesitantly meet his gaze.

‘I don’t understand.’ You say. ‘You want to get back together?’

‘Yeah,’ he says a little sheepishly. ‘I would like that.’

When you don’t answer, or return his smile, it drops a little, only reaching the corners of his mouth. ‘Unless you don’t want that?’

You grab your wine glass again, this time downing the last of it and trying to gather all your thoughts.

This was definitely a lot to take in.

You certainly hadn’t been prepared to discuss getting back together with him. Even though there was a space in your still recovering heart that desperately ached for the prospect to be with him again, to go back to that little slice of paradise you two had managed to carve out for yourselves in winter last year.

But that was gone now.

You’d worked hard in the last month and a half to convince yourself that this, you and him, your relationship and any chance of it coming back was gone.

Because it was.

You had fought, explained that you loved him but needed a little more from him, wanted more from him. He had fought back, said things, called it quits and then walked out because that’s what he said he wanted. And if he was willing to go that far, you needed to believe it was what you should want too.

You were right to worry about meeting him for dinner.

I should’ve left at 7:25, you curse yourself.

‘I don’t know, Mase.’ You say, honestly. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

The smile that had been lingering at the corner of his mouth slightly disappears. ‘What’s not a good idea?’

‘Any of it,’ pushing the words out of your mouth with a tired breath. ‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea.’

Mason’s quiet for a moment. You can’t read the expression on his face, can’t work out what he’s thinking or he’s feeling at this right second. It’s a little daunting, seeing as how you used to be able to read him like a book.

But trying to erase him from your mind when you were broken up meant forgetting, and you'd clearly managed to forget more than you originally thought.

Mason staring at his untouched glass of wine, nodding. ‘Okay.’

You raised an eyebrow in suspicion. ‘Okay?’

He nods, pulling out his wallet before calling the waiter over to ask for the bill. The conversation was over from his end so there was no point in staying any longer if you weren’t going to change your mind. ‘Yeah, okay. I can respect that.’

You can’t help but stare at him, only a little confused.

When he called you out of the blue this morning, he seemed eager. He said he wanted to see you, have dinner, and talk to you about something important. You could practically sense the adrenaline running through his veins, could hear the hard thuds of his heartbeat over the phone. The problem is that you knew Mason was always the type of guy who was mature enough to take no for an answer and who always respected your decisions, but this morning it seemed like he wasn't going to take no for an answer either, so you had every right to be confused.

Deep inside you kind of wanted him to fight for you.

‘Come on,’ he says gently, placing the money that was more than enough to cover the drinks you ordered and bread for starters. You immediately stopped him, wanting to pay your half, it wasn’t fair that he had to pay. But Mason stopped you.‘Mason, at least let me pay half-’

‘I asked you out so I’m paying, end of,’ he insists.

Mason stood up, extending his hand out to you as a kind gesture, ‘I’ll call us taxi,’

With a moments of hesitation you could tell Mason didn’t like by the flex of his jaw, you placed your hand in his, accepting his help as you stood up. Together, you both put on coats/jackets, gathered your things, and exited the restaurant.

You follow Mason outside, a little confused when you only saw one taxi arrive a few minutes later waiting in the cold. Mason instantly recognises that look on your face. ‘Did you think that I’d let you go alone in a taxi at this time of night? Ain’t no way.’

You didn’t have any time to respond because Mason was already walking towards the taxi, opening a door for you before he shut the door and walked around to the other side and got in sitting beside you.

‘Do you want me to stop the driver to get you something to eat?’ He offers, ‘I realised I dragged you out of there, but you didn’t properly have a chance to eat yet.’

‘No, I’m okay,’ you assure him, lying a little. You were starving, but his choice of conversation curbed your appetite quickly.

‘Are you sure?’ He offers. ‘I can get the driver to stop at a pizza place or something?’

You shake your head, ‘No, thank you. I just want to go home.’

The rest of the drive is silent, the radio playing in the background. You keep your eyes locked on the window, refusing to acknowledge Mason or his constant fidgeting. You know it’s a sign that he’s got something to say, probably wants to bring up your decision, or maybe insist on dinner, but thankfully, he keeps his mouth closed.

Once the driver gets to your apartment building, Mason tells the driver to wait for a second so he can drop you off at your door, he’s probably doing the most but he just wants to make sure you get in okay.

He’s escorting you inside the building, and following along with you in the lift like he always used to.

‘Always got to make sure my girl gets in safely,’ he used to say when you used to scold him about this before. ‘I need to see it with my own eyes.

When you finally reach the front door, you find that you just want him to leave, and can’t seem to get him out of your hair quick enough.

You reach for your keys in your bag, fumbling a couple of times trying to get that stupid thing into the lock.

‘Let me get it,’ he offers, reaching for your shaking hands, but you snatch them away before he can touch you, taking a step back.

‘I don’t need your help, Mason!’ You nearly shout, almost regretting it when you take in his expression.

Almost.

‘Hey,’ hurt lacing his voice as he frowns. ‘I was just trying to-’

‘I know!’ You sigh out, frustrated and exhausted. ‘I know what you were trying to do, Mase. I appreciate it.’

‘Then what’s the issue?’ He asks, hands gesturing between the two of you.

‘I thought tonight was about getting closure Mason, not getting back together!!’ You exclaim. You fall back against the wall close to your door, head thumping gently back against it. ‘It took me by surprise and now I feel like everything is upside down.’

‘It doesn’t have to be!’ He counters, just as infuriated as you. ‘It can be simple, it can be easy, if you just let me-’

‘Why would I let you say anything to me?’ You snap.

‘Because I still love you!’ His confession takes you by surprise, and he crowds into your space, the heat coming off of his body in waves. ‘I love you, and I want this. I want us back, and I just want this to work out.’

You can’t find the words to say for a small moment, taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes, and how he’s behaving like nothing happened. ‘After the way you spoke to me when we broke up? After the things you said?’ That seems to shut him up. ‘You really think you deserve another chance?’

At your words, Mason could see the wall you were slowly building up to keep him away, to shut him out and push him away for good. If he wasn’t upset before, he definitely was now. He feels so close to boiling. He is angry, yes, but not at you, never at you. At himself. He presses his hands on either side of head, resting on the wall he had your body pressed up against so many times before.

Before, when he’d bring you home, press you against this wall by the door and make out with you for what felt like hours, before eventually dragging you inside when you could hear people coming up the stairs or when the lift dinged.

But now, he was so livid, so fucking angry with himself that he felt like if he tried hard enough, he could push his hands through the wall.

‘Don’t shut me out.’ He pleads. ‘I know what I said was awful, but-’

‘No buts.’ You respond. Your tone was dry, your eyes empty. You were looking right at him, but all Mason felt was numb.

‘Baby, I want to make you understand but-’

‘No buts.’ You repeat, a little firmer, a little louder. ‘Everytime you say but it negates everything you said in front of it.’

He didn’t realise he was looking into your eyes, until you cleared your throat bringing him back to reality. He wishes he could’ve stayed in that moment. Wishing that he listened to his gut all those months ago and didn’t take this risk.

The risk of losing you.

He was so sure all of this would’ve ended up with him breaking your heart.

But you were breaking his.

‘Baby,’ he chokes out. ‘ I just didn’t think that I could be what you needed back then. I didn’t think I was good enough for what you needed.’

‘But if you loved me, you would’ve at least tried.’ You reason.

Mason shakes his head, ‘I do love you. I’m in love with you. I just didn’t want you to get hurt, can’t you see that? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful, you’re perfect, so perfect it makes my chest ache.’

‘Is that why you called me clingy?’ You say, with no expression on your face, recalling his exact words the last time you saw one another. ‘Is that why you said my emotions were too much? Why you said I was asking for too much? Is that why you said it felt like I was suffocating you by asking for more? I’m so perfect that it makes you feel sick just being so close to me? Is that the ‘ache’ you were talking about? There’s nothing wrong with me now, but you weren’t willing to try to do anything more to be with me back then? Is that why you did all of this? Because the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit you’re spewing right now contradicts that a lot, you know?’

‘I didn’t meant that.’ He pleads. ‘I didn’t, I swear. I just said all of that-’

‘To make me believe it?’ There’s no emotion in your voice or your eyes, no light, no wonder into what you’re thinking.

It’s all my fault, Mason thinks miserably.

He knows it’s his fault, he just doesn’t know what to say. Mason swallows the lump in his throat and doesn’t know where to look before you start speaking again. ‘Well,’ you begin, placing one palm flat on his chest. ‘Congratulations. I do.’

Even though it seems like he is putting miles between you both, Mason takes a step back. As his hands drop to his sides, he realises that he had the opportunity to touch you and give you one last kiss right then and there, and that he most likely will not get the chance to again.

‘You were right.’ You state plainly. ‘That day, when you said that people show their true colours we should believe them. And I believe you, Mason. I believe all of you. Especially the version of you that you really are. And that version of you? Doesn’t want to be with me.’

Every time you say something to him, he loses a little bit of his fight back and you push yourself off the wall, not even giving him a sidelong glance as you enter your flat and close the door behind you. You have had enough.

-

Your heart races as you close your flat door to lock it and do everything in your power to avoid collapsing on the floor.

You can not do this right now; you can not cry, weep, or mourn for something that is already happened. But deep down, you still believed that what you had was genuine. You hoped and prayed with all of your remaining optimism that, for one brief moment, this relationship with Mason would allow you to exist outside of yourself and have something real, something tangible. That he would fight for it.

And even that was taken away from you.

And yet, you should’ve known it was all too good to be true. You did know. But you hoped anyways.

You hear your phone ringing from your handbag, and you groan desperately trying to push away the pain of your heartbreak.

You wipe furiously at your face, wiping away tears that threaten to fall while attempting to suppress your emotions. You take off your bag, coat, and scarf and quickly throw your hair into a bun before opening the wardrobe and stripping down, tossing your clothes into the laundry basket, and storming into your bathroom.

Your phone rings again, and you let out a pitiful cry of frustration before storming back to where you left it and pulling it out.

It’s Mason, and his name fills your screen with his messages.

You found your phone towards your bed with and angry scream that just turns into a sob, and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet of your bedroom.

Isn’t this what you wanted, once upon a time? Someone to fight for you, fight to keep you, fight to win you back, to be lusted after, desired.

You weren’t sure you wanted this anymore.

You had dated others, but you never felt heartbreak with them.

You did with Mason though. You felt every crack in your heart. Felt the sadness, the sorrow, the misery.

With Mason, he seemed to make you feel everything and more.

And that’s why this hurt so bad.

Because you felt it all.

You still loved him.

That’s when it clicked.

You still loved him.

Fuck.

-

It’s hours later, getting close to 11 at night and you’re sipping on your late night glass of wine when your apartment intercom buzzes.

You get up from your spot on the couch to answer it, figuring it’s probably your neighbour two doors down who forgot her keys again which you always seem to have a spare, after a night out.

You press the intercom to speak, saying, ‘you owe me wine for this Eva.’

The voice that comes back is not Eva’s

‘It’s me.’

You nearly drop your glass of wine, with the amount of wine you had tonight it was quick to rush through your veins and to your brain quickly, and you’re pressing the intercom again before you can register what you’re doing.

‘Mason?’

‘Yeah, can I come up? I was hoping we can talk again. I didn’t like how I acted earlier, and i-’

You’re pressing the buzzer to let him some up before he can finish his sentence, not necessarily needing or wanting to hear the rest. The last thing you need is for anyone to spot him outside your apartment building at this time of night.

There was a small part of you that was grateful that you had a shower after you little breakdown you had after getting back from the restaurant. Although now you regretted putting on the silky tank top and shorts set.

Definitely can’t open the door wearing that.

You quickly put down your glass of wine on the coffee table, quickly running to your wardrobe, grabbing any clothes that you see first so you change.

But the doorbell rings.

You could stall and could change anyways but you didn’t need him lingering outside your apartment any longer in case your neighbours spotted him.

So instead you walk over to the door and opening jt to find Mason stood there, in grey joggers and a grey hoodie to match the joggers, his hands in his pockets and his hair a little damp and messy as if he’s been running his hands through it.

You step aside, allowing him to come inside, taking his shoes off and placing it next to yours like he’s done many times before. You shut the door behind him, taking your time to lock it while you’re catching your breath.

He goes to sit on your couch, the pauses halfway there.

This was where it happened. In your living room.

Where you fought, he broke your heart and left like he did nothing wrong.

Deciding you also don’t want to sit on the couch, you walk past him, leading him into your bedroom. It’s probably not the best idea, but it’s the safest alternative.

You sit at the edge of your bed, and Mason leans against your wardrobe, feeling too agitated to sit down.

‘I’m sorry.’ He starts. ‘For how I acted earlier, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I had a right to come back after I acted like a dick.’

You shrug, ‘it’s okay.’

Mason shakes his head. ‘It wasn’t. Also it wasn’t fair of me to ask you to dinner without you knowing the intentions behind it. Dropping that at dinner wasn’t fair either, and I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.’

You nod and let Mason carry on, ‘I realise I have no right to ask anything, and no right to ask for the space to explain myself, but I’d like to, if you let me.’

It takes you a second, but you already know your answer before speaking the words. ‘I’ll let you.’ You say softly.

This conversation has the beginnings of closure to it, and no matter what direction it goes in, you need to hear what he has to say if there’s any hope to either move past this, or move on from him.

So you just let him talk.

Mason takes a deep breath. ‘I was feeling a lot of things that day. Frustration over the season, how it ended, and then stuff with the surgery as well as contract talks. And you were there every step of the way, and I appreciated it, I really did. I guess I felt a little overwhelmed? There was so much to do and say and I felt like I needed to be alone for a second, just to breathe.’

He takes another breath, his eyes furrowing as he tried to recall how it was for him back then, trying to say the right things the right way. ‘You weren’t clingy. You weren’t suffocating me. You weren’t too much, and your emotions weren’t too much. You were always enough, you were perfectly fine. I know you just wanted to be there for me, to support me and help me through what I was feeling, but I’ve never had anyone do that for me before. Everyone is been with before just sort of left me to deal with it on my own.’

Mason sighs, giving you a look. You’re sitting there listening to him intently, giving him your full attention like you always used to, allowing him the time and space to gather his thoughts and feelings.

When his gaze becomes too much, you find yourself tearing away, staring at the floor of your bedroom instead. It stings, Mason realises, not having you look at him like that, but he accepts it, knows he deserves it.

‘I didn’t know what it felt like to have support like that.’ He explains. ‘I wasn’t used to it, and I was wrong to think even for a second of you wanting to be there for me, or you wanting more from me once things got better, was just you wanting my attention, or you wanting anything other that to remind me that you loved me and that you were there to help me, but that you also had your own needs, and that they weren’t being met.’

He sighs, disappointed in himself. ‘You poured all of yourself into my cup, and I couldn’t return the favour when it mattered most to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner, and it shouldn’t have taken a month and a half to come to you and apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing, walking away, but I can see now that it wasn’t. And I’m selfish enough to admit that I don’t want to let you go.’

There’s a quiet sniffle from you, and Mason feels his gut twist uncomfortably. ‘I understand you don’t want this,’ he says. ‘If you don’t want us. I know I was a dickhead to you, I know I took too long to get my shit together and tell you what a piece of shit I was, and i probably still am. I still meant what I said though. I do want us. I want you. And I know I’ll have to work hard to get you back, and I will put in the work, I swear it to you, if you’ll still have me.’

Another sniffle, but no words came out. He can see you wipe your tears away.

His heart breaks at the sight of you.

‘Please, baby,’ Mason says softly. He gazes down at you, from where you sit on the edge of your bed, and wishes in his head that you’d just look at him. Even if it was just for a second, even if it would be the last time.

You shake your head softly, his lips beginning to pout, your bottom lop starting to tremble and Mason feels like a knife just plunged into his heart.

He takes a step forward, until he’s close to you as he can be without touching you. He drops down to his knees, and notices there’s tears starting to well up in your eyes, he decides he has to touch you to comfort you. He doesn’t want to sit there just watching you cry.

Carefully, Mason reaches up with both hands, cupping your cheeks, and wiping gently at your tears with his thumbs. ‘I’m so sorry, baby.’ He murmurs.

You let out a shaky breath. ‘It’s-’

‘It’s not fine.’ He insists. He applies gentle pressure behind his hands as he turns your head to face him. You blink when you meet his gaze, more tears falling onto Mason’s thumbs, and he wipes them away. When they keep coming, he lowers his hands a little and leans forward, gently kissing the tip of your nose, then the spots under your eyes, kissing your tears away.

‘Tell me what I have to do, baby.’ He pleads, moving closer, rising up a little on his knees to rest his forehead against yours. ‘I’ll do anything, I swear. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need.’

There’s a small shake of your head, and he can feel you beginning to relax into him. ‘I don’t know.’

Before he can reason with himself if he should do it, if he’s lost the privilege to, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. He’s surprised when instead of shoving him away, or refusing his kiss, you kiss him back.

He can feel your hands move to his arms, gently pulling him forward, and he kisses you again, moving between your legs when you open them to press the two of you together. As the kiss deepens, he wraps one arm around your waist, banding the other across your back so he can gently grip the back of your neck, and your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, your ankles locking at the base of his spine.

A small gasp escapes Mason when he feels you grind yourself against his covered abdomen, and the hand on the back of your neck creeps upward, grabbing a fistful of hair. At the tug of your hair, you moan, and Mason feels his whole body light up with electricity.

He murmurs your name against your lips, presses kisses there, to your chin, your cheek, working his way down to your neck, sucking little bruises into the skin. He releases your hair, trailing his hand down your arms, moves to your collarbone, leaving little nips and bite marks as he goes, all the while you keep trying to tug at his hair to get him back to your lips.

Mason accepts without a protest, your brain going blank when your soft tongue grazes over his lips, and he accepts it, cupping the back of your head and sucking on your tongue lightly. Then, he’s pulling back just a little to kiss your lips, sucking your bottom one into his mouth, and then pulling it between his lips as he pulls away. You loosen your grip, but keep your hands in his hair, running the curls through your fingers.

‘I’ll do anything.’ Mason repeats the words against your skin, his hands running down your front, settling on your hips. Picking up from where he left off on your collarbone, he presses a sweet kiss to the skin before sinking his teeth in gently, enjoying your little moans of surprise before using his tongue to satiate the little pain from the wound. ‘Anything to make you forgive me.’

He starts to work his way down, leaving a trail of kisses on your chest, pulling the strap of your top off of your shoulder before pulling the neckline down, exposing the top of your breast and immediately sucking the skin into his mouth, hard.

You let out a small whine, arching your back and pressing further against his mouth, your hands tightening their grip in his hair and Mason groans.

He tugs at the hem of your top, and you both part for a small, torturous second, for you to all but tear it off, flinging it somewhere to your bedroom floor before his lips are immediately back on your skin, his hands cupping your breasts in both palms, kneading them in his hands before sucking on one nipple, then the other.

‘I’ll do anything to have you again,’ Mason begins, your nipple caught between his teeth. ‘To make you mine again.’

He rises up on his knees, his tongue purposely swiping over your nipple, your chest, your neck, and as he goes, your core throbs as you watch his tongue glide over your skin before he tucks it back into his mouth.

‘I’m so fucking sorry baby,’ he says when his mouth releases your skin. ‘I’m so sorry.’

His eyes lock onto yours and you meet his gaze straight on, watching, waiting, until he tilts his chin just so and you meet his lips, kissing him once, twice, three times before he presses his whole body against yours, hands disappearing from your breasts to cage your body against his once more.

His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roaming over your bare back before sneaking into your hair, grabbing a fistful at the nape of your neck and pulling your head backwards. He chases your mouth, biting your lip as he pulls away slowly, trailing his lips down your chin and then latching onto the particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth hard.

You moan in response, can feel his tongue massaging over the spot as he continues to suck, and a sharp but delighted hiss leaves you when you feel his teeth scrape gently against the spot. His lips release you a moment later, and he eyes the blooming hickey with pride.

‘Never should have let you go,’ he murmurs, and then Mason’s arms move, releasing you from his caged embrace so his hands can coast down your sides, settling on your hips as he continues to leave bruising kisses on your neck, fingers dipping into the waistband of your silk sleep shorts.

‘Can I take these off of you?’ He murmurs against your collarbone, and you nod, lifting your hips just so, and Mason wastes no time in tearing the material down your legs and off of your body, flinging the things to some spot in your room.

Mason eyes your exposed pussy and can feel his heart thump against his chest. ‘God I missed you, missed seeing your pretty pussy every day.’

He moves to place his arms under your thighs, to pin them up next to you so he can devour you, right where you’re glistening and wet for him, but then you’re grabbing at his hoodie. He thinks you want it off, so he complies, tearing it off and throwing it to wherever the rest of your clothes are, but then you’re beckoning him to you, reaching for him with your hands, and he smirks a little.

Mason presses a kiss to your pretty glistening heat, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. ‘I want to taste you baby, it’s been so long.’

You shake your head, a crease forming between your brows as you reach for him. He goes easily, reaching up to smooth that crease away beneath his thumb, and you cup his face, laying back on your bed and pulling him with you.

He climbs onto the bed, moving you both up the mattress until your head is resting on your pillows. He places his hands next to your face, propping himself up so he doesn’t crush you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pressing the two of you together as you kiss him, squirming beneath him like the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

‘It has been too long,’ you say in agreement, lips ghosting over his as you speak. He can feel you trying to use the heels of your feet to push the band of his sweatpants down. ‘I need you now, Mase.’

‘Okay baby, okay,’ repeating the word as he pushes his joggers and boxers down just enough to free his cock, feels it throb once it’s pressed between the two of you, resting against the soft skin of your belly.

An excited noise trills from your mouth as you reach between you both, lining him up with your slick folds and grinding against him. The feeling is overwhelming, blinding Mason as he shuts his eyes and groans, rocking up against you, delirious with the friction. ‘Condom?’ He asks belatedly, trying not to choke on his breath when the head of his cock nearly catches on the entrance to your pussy.

You shake your head emphatically, watching completely dazed as Mason reaches a hand between the two of you.

‘No, I want to feel you raw.’ His head swims at your statement, and he dips a finger inside of you, then two, collecting the wetness before bringing his coated fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. He groans, cock pulsing again as he grinds against you.

You reach for his face, chasing his mouth for a filthy open mouthed kiss that he’s happy to give to you.

‘Had to taste you,’ he explains. ‘Couldn’t wait another second.’

‘Need you now, Mase.’ You breathe against his lips, and he nods, pulling his hips back ever so slightly until the head of his cock rests against your entrance, and then he’s pushing forward, sliding inside of you slowly. Your breath catches in your throat, and Mason can’t look away, can’t stop watching the way your eyes glaze over before they roll back into your head.

‘That’s it baby, take my cock.’ He praises, eyes casting down to where he’s pushing inside of you.

You take every inch of him perfectly, as you always have, and once he’s fully inside, Mason gets in close. He’s on his knees, positioning his thighs under your own to both keep you propped up and open to him, and to keep himself close to you.

Your body is overcome with the white-hot pleasure of Mason's thick cock squeezing into you, squeezing your eyes shut. Your back is broken in an arch, your mouth is open in a silent cry, and your fingers are entangled in the sheets beneath you. Your body is responding as though you are experiencing it for the first time since you took him so long ago.

You’re so focused on his cock, on how full you feel, that you can barely register that he’s speaking to you, calling for you. His voice comes back to you as pleasure ripples through your body.

You inhale sharply, chest heaving, gathering air in your lungs as you can feel your body begin to adjust, the blinding pleasure of him being buried inside of you starting to replace the stretch and pressure of his welcomed intrusion.

‘That’s it baby, that’s my girl.’ He praises, thumbs caressing your cheeks as he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. His abdomen drags against your clit, and your eyes squeeze shut.

His hips move like that once, twice, three times before your orgasm shoots through you like a rocket. It’s so sudden, so unexpected that Mason nearly loses his pace. He has to bring his hands to the back of your knees and pin your legs down so he can continue to drive into you, flexing his hips and fighting past the tight squeeze of your pussy on his cock, fucking you through your orgasm just the way you love as you cry out.

Your name falls from his lips, completely dazed as he watches you. Your cry out into a whine, your grip on him loosening a little, and Mason bends his head to kiss you, laughing softly as when your eyes slowly blink open as he pulls away.

‘Good baby?’ He asks, and you can only manage a small nod in response.

Mason loves you like this. Loves when you go soft under him, loves that you trust him to make sure he takes care of you like this.

‘More,’ you beg, and Mason nods, bending once for another open mouthed kiss, his tongue dragging over yours before you part.

‘Love it when you come for me,’ he says against your lips, moving his hips so he can fuck you with slow strokes. ‘Have to fight my way in every time, just to keep fucking you, just to make sure you keep coming all over me.’

‘Mase!’ You cry out, his hips driving into that spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

‘You’re gonna deny me this?’ He asks, a slight taunt to his voice, but you can hear past it, can hear the plea in his voice, the desperation. ‘You’re gonna take this away from me baby?’

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the question. It’s no use.

While you were alone after dinner, you’d had way too much time to yourself, to think, to overthink, to mull over every single second from the fight, to the break up, to tonight, to slamming the door in Mason face.

You knew, somewhere in your heart, that you’d already forgiven Mason before he came back. That whatever his excuse, whatever his reasoning, you’d forgiven him for what had happened.

And it wasn’t until he came back asking for a second chance that you realized you’d give him that, too. You’d give him anything he asked for.

Because you loved him.

He drove you insane, but you loved him.

And you hadn’t erased him out of your life, not really. No matter how much you tried to pretend like you had.

Maybe it was your greatest flaw, but you were too forgiving of a person.

And you didn’t want to deny him, not anymore.

‘Answer me,’ Mason demands through clenched teeth, pressing down on the backs of your thighs as he begins to drive into you, merciless and desperate. ‘Am I going to have to fuck you like this is the last time?’

He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust, pushing a choked sound out of you as your pleasure starts to build and twist.

‘I want to hear you say it,’ he orders, pistoning in and out of you. You can only watch him, stunned.

It was no secret he was gorgeous. But only you got to see this, this moment where he looked like a god among men.

The sweat at his hairline, the pinched look of concentration, the veins along the muscles in his arms straining as he holds you down, holds you open so he can fuck you the way he knows you like, the way he pleases you best. The way his eyes flame as he watches your every move, tracks your face so he can be sure he’s bringing you nothing but pleasure.

‘Tell me,’ he insists, bending his head a little to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, and you don’t miss the way it still sounds like a plea. ‘Tell me you’re mine.’

You nod, brows pinching together as the delicious drag of his cock brings you higher and higher, closer to your next orgasm. Mason can tell, knows exactly what you need, but he won’t give it to you.

Not yet.

‘You don’t get to come again unless you say what I want to hear.’ Mason says, slowing his pace to emphasize his point.

A whine sounds in your throat, and he laughs a little, resting his forehead against yours. ‘I know baby, I know. I know exactly what you need, everything you need. In this bedroom, in this bed, and outside of it. I know everything that you need and I promise I’ll give it to you. But I need to hear you say it. Need to hear you tell me what I want to hear.’

You can only manage a whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, the way it feels like you can feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you. Mason shakes his head at your broken noises. ‘I know it feels good, baby, but you can do it. Use your words, pretty girl.’

‘I’m yours.’ It comes out as a whisper at first, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock, the friction of his solid abdominal muscles against your clit as he writhes against you slowly.

‘You’re mine?’ He repeats, not even trying to hide the bit of disbelief in his voice, the uncertainty. ‘Yeah? You’re mine? Look at me baby.’ Your eyes lock onto his, and he holds your gaze as his hips grind into you. ‘Are you mine?’ He punctuates his question with a particularly hard thrust. ‘Am I yours?’

You nod again, crying out ‘Yes!’ when he starts to fuck you again. His pace is unrelenting, his hips unforgiving as he moves, driving his cock in and out of you, consistently hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see the sun, the stars, the moon, the whole galaxy with each thrust.

‘Tell me what I need to do.’ He says to you. You blink lazily at him, lost in the way he fucks you, and he crowds his body in closer, dropping your thighs and cupping your face in his hands, using the muscles in his hips to fuck you deep, grinding his cock into you some more.

‘What do I need to do baby?’ Mason asks again, voice a little softer. His words are loaded, multiple meanings behind the question, and you know what to say to answer them all. He waits as patiently as he can, his mouth locking yours in a deep kiss as you start to squeeze down on him. He can tell you’re getting closer, can tell you’re right on the edge, but he still needs to hear you say it.

‘Need you to make me come.’ You answer finally, lips brushing against his as you speak. He nods, forehead brushing against yours from where it rests. His hand snakes between you both as he circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to the sensitive bud. Your back arches up in response, moving further into his touch.

‘Come for me, pretty girl,’ Mason pleads, keeping his hips in time with the circle he’s drawing against your clit, swallowing your cries with a kiss. ‘I wanna feel you come for me again.’

Mason’s orgasm hits him like a freight train and he groans out loud, doing his best to keep his eyes open so he can watch every second of you coming all over him. His cock pulses, his come spilling inside of you in thick ropes, and he can barely breathe as your pussy squeezes around him, like you’re trying to pull him deeper inside of you.

When your orgasms subside, Mason goes to pull out of you so he can lay beside you, but your legs lock around his waist, and you pull him down to you, taking him by surprise with a sweet and gentle kiss. That gentle kiss morphs into the both of you making out lazily, you winding your hips, grinding against him while his cock rests inside of you.

You both remain like that for what feels like hours, but is probably more like fifteen minutes straight, Mason cock getting hard all over again, and you can feel your arousal slowly returning, ready for a round two, if needed. Eventually, Mason’s lips trail lazily from your mouth to your cheek, chin, neck, shoulders, collarbone, moving across your chest to reach your other shoulder, other side of your neck, and so on then back again, leaving kisses in each place as he goes.

After a little while longer, your post orgasm high subsides a little and your head starts to clear bit by bit. When you manage to come back to yourself, you realize Mason’s been murmuring his apologies into your skin, over and over, only pausing when he gets back to your lips, then resuming his apologies as his lips follow the little trail he’s made.

On what you think is his eighth loop around, you tangle your hands in the curls near the nape of his neck and tug a little, removing his lips from their place against your shoulder, dragging him to your mouth and kissing him again.

You roll the two of you so he’s on his back, his now half hard cock still nestled inside of you and your thighs bracketing his torso. Mason’s hands rest on your hips as he looks up at you, his lips a bright pink from all of the kissing. He looks dazed still, like he isn’t sure if this is all real, then his brow furrows, and regret slashes across his features.

He moves his mouth to form another apology, but you rest a single finger against his mouth, shaking your head softly.

‘I know,’ you tell him. ‘I know you’re sorry, baby.’ Slowly, you start to wind your waist, watching Mason’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and trying his damndest not to thrust up into you. There’s a hiss that leaves his mouth when you squeeze, and a harsh breath is punched out of his lungs.

‘I’m sensitive pretty girl,’ he says, definitely not half hard anymore. Mason can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are joined together, where he can see his own come starting to drip down his cock, watching as you fuck it back into yourself as your drop your hips down.

‘Just need one more.’ You promise, can already feel your body chasing after the next orgasm as you move.

Mason nods, pupils blown wide as he watches. ‘Take what you need baby.’

And you do, planting your hands on his chest as you begin to bounce. Your nails dig into his skin a little, dragging them down his pecs and to his lower abdomen, watching in delight as red marks bloom in their wake, Mason groaning out loud, low and deep, his hips bucking up into you.

He always did love it when you scratched him up like this.

‘More,’ he pleads, and you slowly glide your palms back up to his collarbone, digging your nails in once more and dragging them back down in the same path. His body jerks a little when he moans, and then he’s grabbing your hips and sitting up, laying you down and getting onto his knees to fuck you all over again.

Your hands move to his ass, pulling him in deeper, your nails sinking into the hard muscled flesh and dragging up to his waist, and Mason’s thrusts become harder, sharper, and your orgasm rips through you like a lightning strike.

He follows close behind, fucking past the tight grip of your pussy and coming with a hoarse shout, pinning his hips against you as his cock throbs.

You move your hands then, cupping his face and pulling him down to you, allowing him to bury his face into your neck as he tries to recover. You both breathe deeply for a while, heated skin cooling as the time passes. Eventually, Mason presses soft kisses to your neck, then shoulder, before propping himself up above you by his hands.

‘I think we should probably shower, shouldn’t we?’ He suggests to you, and you nod in agreement. He carefully pulls out of you, but when you move to sit up, he gently pushes you back down, eyes glued to your pussy, where his two loads start to slowly leak out. Mason takes two fingers, gathering what’s coming out and pushes it back into you. Your back arches in response, a small hiss pushing through your clenched teeth.

He removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean before leaning over you again, capturing your mouth with his, sharing your combined release.

‘Want some more?’ He murmurs against your lips, and you nod, your eyes locked on one another as he reaches down, his fingers pushing back in, stroking you a couple of times before pulling them out. This time, when he brings his fingers back up, you grab his wrist before he can put them in his mouth, bringing them to your lips instead, sucking them clean. Mason’s eyes flutter, glazing over and you can feel his cock start to come back to life where it rests against your thigh.

Once his fingers drop from your mouth, he surges forward, kissing you again and you both fall back onto the bed, all thoughts of doing anything but making out leaving your minds for the next ten minutes.

Eventually, you manage to pull away, resting a hand on his chest as you part. ‘It’s getting late,’ quickly adding, ‘we should probably shower now, so we can head to bed.’ when you see Mason panic a little, thinking you were going to try to kick him out.

He smiles a little, nodding. He gets up first, reaching out a hand for you to take. Once you’re both upright, Mason looks down at you and smiles a little, brushing some hair away from your face then pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘You go first, I’ll gather up the clothes and get the bed ready.’

You nod with a small smile, heading into your bathroom to pee and start the shower as Mason busies himself with gathering up your clothes, tossing them into the hamper in the corner of your room. He feels his heart thump in his chest at the familiarity of taking your decorative pillows off of your bed, putting them on their designated shelf in your wardrobe, then fluffing the pillows you actually use before bringing your comforter down.

When he finally makes his way into your bathroom, he finds you standing under the spray of the shower, watching through the glass as the water cascades down your body.

A body he almost let go, a body he knows he’s honored to be able to worship again.

He wastes no further time in stepping into the shower with you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in close, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

‘I’ll do better,’ He promises you.

Your hands rub up and down his back in a soothing pattern. ‘I know, Mase.’ Your name falls off his lips in a soft murmur, and you pull away a little, tipping your head back just so to look up at him. ‘We’ll be okay,’ you promise, nodding to reassure him.

He nods back, cupping the back of your head in his hand, resting it against his chest. ‘I know we will, baby. I’ll make sure of it.’

You knew you were always in love, you just needed your stubbornness to let go.

#mason mount one shot #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount angst

[luvrxbunny]

soft

pairing: post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel wants her, and she wants him. The bumpy story of how they got together!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has hair that can get in her face, smoking (weed), drinking, lots of feelings, piv, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, kinda subby Joel at the end (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 10.3k (idk how that happened im sorry)

a/n: I’m pretty proud of this one. ik its long but please just give her a chance!

It started with you and Joel both high and drunk out on the porch and he looked so beautiful. There was a perpetual smile on his face, laughing and even giggling at almost everything you said, folding himself over and leaning his head on you whenever he thought something was particularly funny and you couldn't control yourself.

The next time he leaned over you waited, watching, letting him calm back down but when he went to pull off of you, you pulled his head to yours. His breathing stopped short and it scared you until he groaned into your mouth. It was so many things, it was broken, grateful, desperate but savoring and you loved it. 

He placed his hand behind your head and held you in place as he pushed his lips further into yours. It almost hurt, the way he seemed to attempt to mold your face into one, but it was so perfect. When he pulled away you were out of breath, panting in his face as he did the same. You guys continued to exchange breaths as you scrutinized every aspect of his face.

Anxiety was clawing inside your stomach as you took him in, fearing that he may never let you ever again. His soft lips parted, and you watched his tongue slide into the indent on his bottom lip. You silently hoped he could taste your remnants on them as they froze, waiting for words to spill out. Only to be interrupted by Ellie slamming the front door open. 

“Can you guys fucking keep it down?! I have school, remember? You’re the one making me go!” She shouts at you both, directing the last part at Joel who was still staring at you. You were watching Ellie as she yelled but Joel’s silence brought your gaze back to him. You shouldn’t have because you feel like that’s when it happened. You swear you could see him blocking himself off from you, like a door was shutting in his eyes. He apologized to Ellie and said it was getting late. 

Now, usually, Joel insists on you sleeping on the couch, too worried to let you go home so inebriated but that night he sent you away. It was like he broke your heart. He shattered it and forced you to place the shards in your shoes as he pushed you away, pain shooting through your whole body with every step. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night, you thought things were over with Joel, and you’d lose touch with Ellie because it would be too painful to go over there.

Your paradise was ruined.

You couldn’t believe you had read the situation so wrong. You thought- worse case- he would tell you that you’re too young, that he just can’t be with you, for whatever reason. But the look in his eyes… the way he sent you home. It felt like he didn’t even care about you anymore. 

The next day you thought you had lost your mind. You were in a terrible headspace and decided to ditch your responsibilities. You were in bed, switching between sleeping and sobbing into your pillow. You felt horrible, you looked horrible and someone was knocking incessantly at your door. They would not leave, no matter how much time passed, no matter how loud you groaned. So you wrapped your blanket around you and very angrily made your way to the door. 

“Who the fu-” Your sentence is cut short in complete and utter shock.

It was Joel. 

You let the door swing open and walk back inside. You’re already climbing back into bed as you hear him shut the door behind him. “What do you want, Joel?”

 You’re lying down, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. In the corner of your eye, you can see him just standing there, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. Your head almost turns as you hear him take a deep breath, wishing you could see the way his chest puffs up and stretches whatever shirt he’s wearing. But you don't. He’s not someone you should be admiring like this, he’s someone you cannot be admiring like this. 

“Oh my god. Don’t just stand there you know I fucking hate that.” Your voice is so irritated, so hurt and cold but he scoffs.

Anger and embarrassment courses through you but you feel the bed dip anyway, it eases the feelings.

You can feel him right beneath your feet, so close you almost want to straighten your legs a bit more, just so you can press against him. But you don’t. 

“Okay, then don’t curse… Y'know I hate that.” His voice is painfully normal, like nothing happened, like he didn't break you. You want to laugh- or cry- at the absurdity. The thought that last night meant nothing to him, so little that he’s over here asking you things like ‘don’t curse’.

Who does he think he is? That he can treat me like shit and then ask such trivial things of me? No. Fuck him. 

“Fuck you, Joel. You’re a dick, get out.” He takes a deep breath and then is silent for a moment. You hoped and prayed that he had given up but to no avail. 

“No, honey. I’m supposed to find out why you’re not out workin’.” You scoff at him and dig yourself deeper into the blankets. “Ar- are ya sick or somethin’?” At this you turn to him, looking him dead in the eyes, asking ‘Are you fucking serious?’ but he can’t hold your gaze.

Oh! So he does remember.

You laugh humorlessly and fall back into bed where you lie in silence, for quite some time. Until his hand comes up to your ankle, resting so gently you know he’s holding it up. He’s probably still thinking over whether he should do it or not, unaware that he’s already touching you. 

“Can- Well, I- I- I know that- fuck.” He’s so angry when he says it, frustrated with himself for not having the right words.

He never knows the right thing to say, or how to convey how he feels. He’s so scared of losing you right now, but he doesn’t know how to tell you in a way that will have you asking no questions. He can’t have you asking him anything because he knows you’ll ask him things that he’s nowhere near ready to answer. “Can you just- Can you please?” 

You waited for him to say more, expecting it, but that was the end of the sentence. He wanted you to ‘just please’.

The way he says it though, you look over at him and he’s gazing into you, his eyes so piercing that you almost feel uncomfortable. It feels like he’s prying into you, willing you to open up for him to express himself without having to actually say anything to you. 

You sit up and glare back at him, softer than before but still hot with rage. “Please, what.” He shakes his head and looks away from you, into his lap instead as his hand fully settles on your ankle. He keeps huffing out breaths, like he’s going to say something but then decides against it. You’re almost irritated with the sound until he takes a breath and follows it with words. 

“You- I need for yesterday to have not happened.”

Fuck him.

You hadn’t even gotten over the first rejection, the lack of care he showed and now here he was rejecting you again. “You must- You gotta understand why it can’t happen. Why we-”

You were trying not to tremble as he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to keep himself calm in the face of the extreme stress the whole situation was putting on him. Tears were welling in your eyes as he spoke, despite you squeezing them shut to avoid this exact issue. But it hurt just as much as it did last night, maybe more. “We just can’t. Not- I need for things to go back to normal… f- for now at least…”

You’re breathing froze, eyes snapping open to look at Joel, who was still looking in his lap. His hand left your ankle to meet his other fidgeting one as you both sat in silence. You could see him peeking at you from the corner of his eye as subtly as he could as you thought over his words.

You felt like you were on a game show. Do you double down or just take what you have?

‘I need for yesterday to have not happened’

‘I need for things to go back to normal’

His words hurt.

‘F-for now at least’

But those words… made it worth it. 

You didn’t want to push him. You know how hard it must’ve been for him to even express the little bit he did. Along with that, the thought of him noticing you weren’t around and coming to check on you was making its way through your cloud of hate. 

“Y-you sent me away…” Your voice isn’t hard anymore. It isn't soft either, it was just weak. You can see Joel grimace at it, turning away from you so you couldn’t see him. “Wh- You- you always let me stay but- you just-” You stop talking, if you kept going you would’ve started sobbing again. 

“I couldn’t let you stay, honey. The- I didn’t- I don’t have enough self-control for something like that to happen an’... I’m leaving you in the guest room? No. I would’ve- had to have- I… No, I-” He breathes out in annoyance again and you yearn to comfort him. But you don’t.

He always gets too frustrated with himself, making it even harder for him to clear his head enough to say what he wants. “I wouldn’t have been able to leave you there. I would’ve had to do somethin’ and I- I don't think that’s a good idea.”

You’re not completely satisfied with the answer, you have more questions now than you did before but you managed to collect one piece of information.

Joel wants you.

It wasn’t a flat-out rejection more like a, ‘let's put a pin in that’ and you have enough faith in him to believe he wouldn’t string you along. So you sniffle, put your big boy pants on as you wipe your tears, and tap Joel on the shoulder, turning his gaze to you. You take a deep breath and speak.

“Yesterday’s events are forgotten.” You say it with a light smile but you’re betrayed by one stray tear as it rushes down your face. Joel’s expression crumbles at it, in so much pain, so heartbroken at the thought that he had caused it. Despite his feelings, he nods at you and gets up. “Get ready. You’re in the fields today, darlin’.” He hits the door frame with a grateful smile before walking away to let you get changed.

Leaving you in your hopeful sadness. 

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

Things were rocky at first. Neither of you were actually able to forget about ‘what happened’ as Joel so lovingly put it. You expected too much from him and he was still too cold toward you. For the first month, you guys were basically in an argument. It was as though the town couple, the gruff old man and the re-tamed angel, had broken up. 

Everyone knew that you were hooking up with Jared, he wouldn’t shut up about it. Joel and the townspeople had heard of his sexual conquests over and over since he arrived, before he set his sights on you.

When he first approached you, you had already gotten out of your ‘phase’ and were too captivated by Joel to entertain him for even a second. However, he was quite popular among the other town women, he was popular with women even before the outbreak so he couldn’t believe when you rejected him. Not that he was shocked, he fully did not believe you. In turn, he never stopped pursuing you… much like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.

So when Joel broke you, you slipped back to how you were before him… You went to Jared. You don’t know if you were hoping he could put you back together or if you wanted him to help you cut Joel with the shards of your heart but the latter is what ended up happening. 

You wanted to cut it off with Jared the moment Joel found out. When Jared started parading around the town with you next to him as if you were genuinely interested. But you didn’t.

Instead, you kept seeing him for a few more weeks. You watched Joel avoid you like the plague, ducking out of every room you walked into, switching his jobs with people who had the worst ones just so he didn’t have to work with you. You enjoyed making him squirm, showing him that you could just move on if he’s not ready to step up. You were a highly sought-after woman, a piece of art who he wanted to keep in the garage until he found the right spot. No, you refuse. Until you came across him alone at the bar one night. 

He was obviously drunk, a beer in hand but his cheek on the table. There was a song playing that he was loosely singing along to. His other hand was in the air, waving his finger around like he was conducting an orchestra. You storm over to his booth. 

Watch him suddenly sober up and head home. Watch him suddenly remember some plans he made or something he forgot to do. Watch him just get up and leave me again. 

You sit down across from him and wait for him to notice you. You’re just watching him. His eyes are closed and his eyebrows furrow as he tries to hit each high note. He’s failing, not hitting them perfectly but still getting to an impressive pitch. It’s too endearing to see him like this, so open, unburdened.

You didn’t even know he could sing this well. Your anger and bitterness fades for the first time in weeks. Your head tilts and a soft smile invades your face, as if sensing this Joel finally opens his eyes. 

They’re so soft, probably because he thought he was alone, his guard is dropped. You’re waiting for them to go back up at the sight of you. But they stay so soft as he gasps gently. “Honey! Wha- When did you get ‘ere” His voice is softer too… not as rough and gruff as it usually is. 

He also doesn’t sound angry. After all he’s done to avoid you, you’d expect him to sound angry. You chalk it up to the alcohol. 

“I’ve been here. You just never noticed.” When your voice reaches Joel it's gentle, like how you’d speak to a child but not patronizing. He likes it. He swears he can feel your voice washing over him, running through his hair and caressing his cheek. He smiles at it, at you as a blush rises to his cheeks. 

“S-so you-” He looks down at the table, his eyes moving back and forth as he thinks. “Did you hear m-” You can’t help the laugh that slips out. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth but you’re still obviously smiling. “Oh.” That’s all he says as you let your laughs out. 

“I’m- Not laughing at you, Joel. I- I swear.” Laughs break up your sentence as Joel stares at the table. “Oh- I’m so sorry. God. You really didn’t notice me here! That’s what was so funny not your singing I swear.” You let out a little giggle at the end but Joel is frowning. 

“This s’why I don’ sing in front of no one.” He’s picking at the wood and grumbling to himself. You’d find it all incredibly annoying if it wasn’t Joel doing it. 

“Joel.” You’re stern but still gentle as you speak. “I told you it wasn’t your singing. The singing was great. I was so fucking impressed. I had no clue you could even sing like that.” You watch a smile creep onto his face as you praise his talent. He’s still looking at the table, wanting to stay angry but he can’t. Your smile widens the longer you watch him until he takes a swig of his beer. 

“Why are you so drunk?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them and Joel pauses mid-sip. He’s frozen like that before slamming it onto the table and looking at you. “ ‘M not drunk. ‘M not. But if I was…” He squints his eyes at you. “If I was- It’s probably cos the girl I want seems to want someone else.”

It feels like everything in the bar stops. Your breathing, your heart, the music, time, the world. Everything just stops. 

He got this drunk… over me?

He chuckles and finishes his beer as you sit there in shock. “Dunno why you’re doin’ all this. I know you knew. Jus’ thought-” He goes to take another sip and whines when there’s nothing. “Stupid fuckin-” He throws it across the room, astonishingly making it into the trash with a small mumble of ‘swish’. 

“Joel.” He turns back to you with a blank expression. “You never told me you liked me.” 

“Oh please.” His voice is mean, a bit sharp now. Your face contorts into one of disgust as he speaks. “You ain’t that dumb, honey. It was very heavily implied an’ you know it.” Your expression drops into a frown. His voice broke at the end, followed by a sniff and an aggressive rub from his sleeve over his nose. “B-but you’re still out there with fuckin’ Jared.” His voice shakes through the sentence, adding some anger at the end as you cringe at the sound of his name. You both were aware you didn’t have any honest feelings for Jared.

“Joel. You told me to pretend that… that night.” You look away from him, embarrassed at what should be a sweet memory. “You told me to pretend it never happened and then treated me like shit for no reason afterward. Certainly, you didn’t expect me to sit in that. There’s no way you thought I would tolerate it! So yeah, I went to get whatever affection I could, elsewhere since my best and main source ran fucking dry.” You can feel your anger towards him building back up as you speak, reliving the details of your guys’ downfall. It still hurt. 

“Certainly you didn’t- Why do you talk so damn proper?” He’s laughing to himself at his rendition of your voice but you’re nowhere near amused. You stand from your seat and look down at him, stopping his laughter instantly.

“Okay. Let’s talk about this when you’re sober, hmm? When you can be an adult? Stay on topic at least?” His brows furrow and his eyes leave yours. You stand there, waiting for him to respond but get nothing. “Cool, Joel. I’ll see you around then.” You sigh and turn away from him, disappointed.

The night had started so well, that you stupidly believed that you guys might be able to save your relationship. You should’ve known he was too drunk for the conversation but he shouldn’t have brought it up. If he knew he wouldn’t be able to have a serious conversation he shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. Now you’re both hurting all over again. He’s probably gonna grab another drink and you’re probably gonna go see Jared. 

“Please!” It’s frantic, desperate, and unsteady as it shoots out of his mouth. You freeze in your spot, halfway to the door and halfway from him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about it. Why fuckin’ would I? It hurts. You fuckin’— You hurt me… prancing around with that piece of shit- All I did was ask you to wait… just wait- for me to be ready to love you.”

You’re still standing in the middle of the room, facing the door. His voice was getting louder, closer as he spoke but you don’t turn. You could hear the emotion bleeding into his words, breaking his voice as he approached you. 

“But you- You couldn’t even wait for me! No. No, you had to go get— ah how’d ya put it? Affection elsewhere- fuck off. You coulda just said you needed something from me. I could’ve given you affection.” His voice softened after cursing at you. It only grows softer as he speaks. You can feel him behind you, maybe a few steps away but you don’t turn.

You don’t wanna see him, lose your edge, your nerve. “I- I would’ve given it to you if I knew, darlin’. I was tryna keep my distance, waitin’ for you to get over me and look! You did. I- I just wish you had told me, instead of havin’ t’hear it from fuckin’— fuckin’ Jared.”

His voice dies down for a moment and you turn around. His hair is everywhere, he must’ve been running his hands through it as he spoke. His eyes aren’t teary but they look like he could cry at any moment, he looks tired and his lips are bitten red.

“I would’ve understood. Or- Or maybe I wouldn’t’ve I dunno. I just wish you woulda said somethi-”

You’re kissing him.

Fuck.

You are kissing him. You didn't mean to. You have no clue how your lips got to his but they’re all over them. He’s groaning at you, pulling you in as you pull away.

“Fuck! I’ve got to stop doing that… jesus.” You’re looking at the ground as you wipe his slobber off your mouth. He’s silent, panting as he just stands there and your heart starts to race. 

It’s just like last time. Fuck. Why the fuck do I keep doing this shit.

Tears are already welling in your eyes and you decide to speak before he can send you away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that… I know you need time or whatever.” You pause, giving him room to say anything but he doesn't. You want to look up at him, see what he’s thinking, how he’s reacting. But you don’t. 

“Yeah… I’m gonna go.” You turn around and finish your walk to the exit. You grab the handle and stop. “I- I’m gonna cut things off with Jared…” You stay silent for a bit, trying to decide whether you should say your next words.  “I do need your affection though, Joel.” You rushed out the door after that.  

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

You just want to fuck him already. It’s been months now, of this back and forth. To be clear, you do still want him romantically, how could you not? This man, when his hair is fluffy and soft just like him. When you see his expression now light up when you walk into the room. When he builds you little trinkets in the shop, instead of doing the job he was assigned to. When he makes your favorite for dinner after finding out that you’re having a bad day. When he plans movie nights featuring your favorites that he could find on DVD. 

How could you not love him?

It scares you. The “situation-ship” you both were currently in started a few months ago. Actually… It started exactly four months and three weeks ago. There’s no point in pretending you haven’t kept track. Joel told you that he needed time. You would have never expected it to be this much time but you’ve grown to love and crave him over the months.

He listened to what you said at the bar that night. He’s been giving you so much affection it’s actually making the other women in the community quite jealous of you. He hasn’t kissed you yet but he kisses your cheek, your forehead, and- when he’s drunk or high enough- your neck. You don’t kiss him anymore. You’ve kissed his cheek a few times over the months, his head once when he was sick but other than that you try to keep to yourself. You’re still a bit traumatized from his first rejection, the way it played out, and everything. You’d rather just not risk it.  

You’re in the garden and he’s in the field. You’re planting flowers, pulling and re-planting vegetables while Joel is harvesting the wheat he planted four months ago and tilling the land for the new seeds. You keep looking over at him, you really can’t help it at this point. 

The sun is shining through his hair, making it a dark golden color with streaks of white running through it. His arms are smudged from handling the dirt all day and his biceps flex repeatedly as he picks the kernels off of the wheat and throws them into his basket. His eyebrows are creased and his eyes squinted to avoid the burning light of the sun and he keeps looking over at you. He really can’t help it at this point. 

You look so beautiful, sitting on your knees with your adorably mismatched gardening gloves. Your hair falls so angelically every time you lean forward to lead a new plant to its home. Every time you sit back up you use the back of your wrist to try and shove the hair from your face, sputtering out, trying to blow the hair away and it's so endearing. Your arms are dirty and he feels the incredibly odd urge to bathe you. He’s ready to love you. He’s so fucking ready but he has no clue— not even the slightest— as to how he should tell you. 

The current supervisor calls it a day and you almost fall face-first into the plants in your scramble to get to Joel. He’s taking off his gloves, flexing and stretching his fingers when he sees you rushing toward him with a huge smile he can’t help but mirror. “Hey, darlin’. You look so beautiful today.”

You freeze where you stand which luckily isn’t too far from Joel. He makes his way over to you, watching your expression. He loves it so much, he doesn’t understand how he never noticed it before. The way you always take a deep, shaking breath, your eyebrows go inward and you give him this look. He doesn’t understand it yet but it always makes him ache for you, makes him burn somewhere in the depths of his being to just be with you. He doesn’t know how long he can resist it. He doesn't want to. He doesn’t.

“I’m- I think I really- I just really wanna kiss you.” You snap out of your daze and your eyes focus on him, hopeful for a moment then a little dull. You turn your head, give him your cheek, close your eyes, and wait for the gentle kiss but nothing happens. You slowly open your eyes and look at him, he looks scared. “I wanna kiss you.”

You can hear your heart speed up, your breaths getting shorter and your thoughts more jumbled.

He wants to kiss me?

You’re confused for a moment, not understanding what brought this on. You’re eyes slip from his contact as you lose yourself in your thoughts, not realizing the silence you’re creating or the anxiety you’re causing. But Joel realizes, he’s sweating more than he has all day as he waits for you to say something, do something. He shifts his weight from foot to foot before giving up. “We don’t have to… I just- I wanted to…” He tries and fails to keep the sadness out of his voice.

His words strike fear in you and you reach out to grip his arm, hoping it’s enough to stop him from walking away. “Y-You wanna kiss me? On the… on the lips?” He’s surprised by your voice, it sounds far away, loose, and airy.

“I do.” It comes out with no hesitation, no stutters, no pause. You take a step closer to him and his expression twitches, his chest beginning to heave with anticipation. 

“I would really love that, Joel.” You’re staring up at him now, as best you can in the sun. You’re looking into his eyes, an excited, mischievous glint in your eyes, challenging him, daring him to do something. And he loses his nerve. 

“Oh! Okay. Thats… Thats good. I- I want you to come over later, alright? I’ll get us some weed and alcohol. You don’t need to bring snacks or nothin’ either jus- jus bring yourself, alright? Okay, see you then.” And with that, he walked off. His cheeks were absolutely burning. He couldn’t believe himself 

‘That's good’? What the fuck is wrong with you, Miller? Leaving that darlin’ girl standing in the sun like that? It just ain’t right, she’s so sweet on you and you fuckin’ know it. I gotta stop doin’ this to her…

You’re watching Joel walk away. A bit stunned by the whole interaction, confusion, and questions swarm your head the whole walk home. They stick with you in the shower and as you get ready to head over to Joel’s. They accompany you on the whole walkover as well.

Maybe he wants me to do something… I know people like it rough, so maybe he wants me to take charge? He doesn’t really seem the type. Does this mean he wants me now? Will he kiss me tonight? Is that why he invited me over? Are we gonna have sex? Oh god, I hope so. I’d treat him so well- or maybe I wouldn’t since everyone likes it rough. 

You’ve reached his block when you’re stopped by Susan; Joel’s biggest admirer. She places herself in front of you, blocking your path and forcing you to talk to her.  “Oh, he’s not in, hun.”

You take a calming breath and try not to roll your eyes at her. “Okay… Well, I’m gonna check, just in case.” You turn your steps and try to make your way around her only for her to place herself right back in your way. 

“I’m gonna be honest I- I don’ really get this whole thing with you an’ him. I just- I guess I don’ really see it… Do ya’ know what I mean?” You glare at her, ignoring her statement and waiting for her to just get out of your way. “I mean…” She steps closer to you. “I remember when you first got here…” 

You can feel shame and embarrassment curl in your stomach at the mention of your arrival. You weren’t in the best place, mentally, and you did a lot- a lot- of things that you wished you hadn’t, lots of men you wished you hadn’t. “Don’t be an ass, Susan.” She backs away from you, a sinister smile on her face and her hands in the air. 

“Hey! I’m” She laughs. “I’m jus sayin’... You were interested in a lot of different guys!” You start walking, refusing to listen to what she has to say. But the psycho bitch follows you. “I mean are you even sure that it’s him that you want? Weren’t you with Jared just a few months ago? I mean…” 

You’re speed-walking to Joel’s now. You’re only a house away when she hops in front of you again. “Hun! I told you he ain’t home! I’m just-” She sighs and lowers her head as you crane your neck, hoping and praying Joel had made his way to the porch by now. But he hasn’t. “If you just want a man I can set you up with some of my friends! Some people who are… Gosh! How do I say this without bein’ rude? Some people who are more in your… lane… league?” Your head whips back at her, fury raging in your eyes at her audacity. 

“Excuse me?” You question, low and threatening. “Well. Hun, c’mon now, don’t get all bent outta shape, I mean well! You and I both know Joel is too… hmm, well. He’s too good for you I guess.” You’re not staring at her, you’ve turned your head to the patch of sky you can see through the trees beside you, choosing to count the stars instead of listening to this shit. 

“I’d strongly disagree.” You can hear her gasp and spin around as a smile spreads over your face.

Joel. 

“Oh! I- I thought you weren’t home, sugar.” She tries to lean into him but he walks around her and grabs your arm, pulling you past her with a mumble of “Yeah. I know.”, ending the conversation. 

Joel doesn’t speak until he’s gotten you inside. “I dunno why you listen to that woman. She spews nothin’ but garbage.” You watch him dart from cupboard to cupboard to retrieve his lighter and a little joint you can tell he rolled because it’s dented in the middle. “She’s always saying some dumb shit. I fuckin’ hate it.” 

His eyebrows are furrowed and his face is hard as he lights it up. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him so angry. You watch the tension fall from his shoulders, his face relaxing as he inhales. You take your shoes off, still watching him as a small smile spreads over his face and he exhales. “Are you gonna share Joel?” You ask as he goes in for another hit. 

“Hey-  Be nice darlin’, it’s mine after all.” He teases while handing it to you. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting next to where he’s leaning as you take a drag. 

“Yours schmours, you’ll be fine.” He giggles— giggles— at your statement, his hand coming up to cover his smile as he laughs. All you can see are his pretty brown eyes, the creases around them, and the way they almost shut while he laughs. You feel your heart race, bringing along that urge that has gotten you in trouble many times over. Your eyes flicker to his lips and you immediately avert your gaze, taking another hit to try and calm yourself. 

You wait for him to come back up from his designated, folded, laughing position and hold the joint out for him. You snort at the misshapen stick, causing you to choke on the smoke you were holding. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what you get for laughing. Mhm.” You’re coughing up a lung as he says this, making the situation worse because you cannot stop laughing at him. He continues his remarks after taking a hit, you’re still choking and laughing, and you hold an arm out to him. 

“Joel-” You cough. “Joel-” You laugh. “Joel, stop it. I’m- oh fuck.” You start coughing again in a way that has Joel turning to face you, amusement and a bit of concern on his face. “Oh my god, stop. I’m gonna die, don’t make me laugh- oh my god.” 

He’s beaming at you, proud that you find him so funny and the high really hitting him. You can tell, his eyes are a bit hazy and his eyebrows are raised for some reason. He walks towards you when your fit dies down, pushing himself between your legs with a dazed look on his face. He’s just staring at your thighs for a moment, his head turning from left to right so he can look at both of them before looking up at you. Your heart is thrumming out of your chest as you try to keep your expression neutral, maybe a bit inquisitive. He stares at your lips for a bit before you see his hand raising with the joint. He brings it to your lips and looks back up at your eyes, his eyebrows jump, prompting you to inhale. 

You take a long hit, trying to get as much smoke as you can, hoping it will calm you down. His eyes stay on yours, darkening as his breathing becomes a bit shallow. He pulls the joint away from your lips and puts it out right onto the counter before bringing his hand up to your cheek.

You haven’t exhaled yet, savoring the hit while he slowly brings your face to his. You’re watching his eyes, still on yours as he pulls you in. You begin to exhale, not wanting to hold the smoke in if he’s going to kiss you. That’s when he pushes your lips together. You try not to choke as he sucks the smoke out of your mouth and pulls away. You’re in a stupor as he grins at you and breathes your smoke out, re-lighting the fire in the pit of your stomach, the one that always seems to flare whenever he’s around.

“What’d ya think of that, huh? Good kiss or?” He’s wearing a smirk but his eyes are uncertain at your silence. You keep it up, not saying anything, just pulling him back in and smashing your lips into his. He accepts your kiss with a grunt from the force of it as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in. 

You’re gripping his hair like it's your lifeline, gripping his face like it’ll fall apart otherwise, it hurts a little but he’s fond of your eagerness. Your hands slide onto his shoulders and you dig your fingers into his skin brutally, pulling a wince from him. He separates your lips and strokes over your cheek with his thumb, admiring you. It's a soft, tender moment until you yank him by his belt loops, crashing him against the counter painfully to whisper in his ear. “I want you, Joel”

He smiles at this and kisses you again as you undo his belt. You remove it from the loops and let it drop to the ground so you can get to work on his button and zipper. You feel his lips stutter against yours and he pulls away, confused. “Not- not here, darlin’. ‘M not gonna do this in the kitchen.” He sounds a bit confused as he grips your hips and lifts you off of the counter and back onto the floor. They come back up to cradle your face again as he places a quick, soft kiss on your lips. “ ‘M gonna make love to you in my room, on my bed, baby.”

Make love..?

Confusion flows through your mind but you go along with him, assuming it’s just some outdated terminology. “Yeah? You gonna fuck me in your bed, Joel?” He is so shocked by your response. He doesn’t understand why you’re being so aggressive about it. He’s trying to be gentle, and loving but you seem to reject it. He gives you a brief but genuine smile before leading you to his room,

Your heart is racing as you follow Joel to his bedroom. This would be the first time you’ll be having sex with someone you care about, someone you love. You wondered if it would feel any different when he was shattering your hips with his own, would there still be that soft look of adoration in his eyes? You don’t see how the two could go together. 

You get to his room and he shuts the door quietly. “Can you stay still, honey?” He rolled his sleeves up, only halfway, showing off his thick forearms. He’s circling you as he questions you, holding eye contact and stopping in front of you. “I- I wanna undress you.”

Your throat feels like it’s closed. 

Undress me? Why would he want to- That doesn’t seem very time-efficient… Oh, but look at him. 

His eyes are silently and subconsciously begging you to let him. You let him. 

He takes a deep breath and his eyes rake down your body the moment you nod at him. He grabs your hips, pulling you to him with a boyish grin before running his fingers along the hem of your shirt. They tickle your skin softly as he brings them up, bunching the fabric before pulling it over your head. He looks right into your eyes as he does this. That soft look digs into your chest, it feels like you may explode. 

He only breaks away from your gaze to throw your shirt on a chair in the corner. He brings his empty hand to cup your cheek, stroking his thumb across your skin as a sort of apology for diverting his attention. He looks back at you with a smile so gentle you may melt. 

Your knees almost give out when he unbuttons your pants, he sticks his thumbs in the back of your waistband, leaning into you. He’s so close. He’s so close. He’s smirking like he knows you want to kiss him. He leans forward, licking his lips before abruptly ducking down, pulling your pants with him. 

You let out a surprised squeal that has him smiling up at you. Your hand comes up to bury itself in his hair before you realize it. You admire the softness of it, how fluffy it is. His eyes droop, getting a foggy, clouded look in them as he stares up at you. 

Make it good for him. Everyone likes it rough. 

You pull it, much harder than necessary, and watch his eyebrows crease in what you assume is arousal as he grunts again. He lifts from his kneeling position and kisses you, a little harder than he did before. 

His hands were running down your back, cupping your ass, and then stroking down your thighs. He’s breathing heavily against your face as his hands squeeze your inner thigh. They roam all over your body but never go where you want them, where you need them. 

“Okay, Joel. Enough I need you. I- I need you.” He smiles underneath his bitten lip as you push him away and gesture to his entire body. “Take them off… Off!” 

You’re basically ripping your undergarments off and running to him, unbuttoning his shirt for him as he takes off his pants. The moment your hands push his shirt open he’s kissing you instead. He walks you both onto the bed, tripping over his pants with a giggle before landing safely on the covers. You waste no time in climbing over him, whining out when his cock rubs along your soaked pussy. He lifts himself to try and kiss you but you’re not looking at him. You’re trying to push his dick into your soaking, aching pussy. 

“Shit- Damn. Fuck, honey.” He slams himself back onto the bed, his hands tighten around your hips as you position your legs beneath you and slam your hips onto him. It fucking burns. You’re wet and wanting but he’s huge, the stretch of his fat cock burns inside you as his tip jams itself into your cervix painfully. You bit off more than you can chew. Joel is grunting harshly beneath you so you power through, attempting to hide your grimace as you let out half-honest moans. 

“Fuck- No. No, no, stop, baby.” His hands force you down and hold you there, rendering you immobile as he sits up. You’re watching his abs clench as he sits up with no assistance but his pure muscle, your eyes only move to his face when he clears his throat. 

You’re embarrassed now, under the impression that you’ve done something wrong, something he didn’t like. You wouldn’t know what to do if that were the case… You were doing what you normally do… You don't know any special moves or anything like that. “Did- You didn’t like it..?”

You ask as timidly as possible, hoping he could hear it and would be gentle. 

“I- I mean I guess but it’s not what I want.” Confusion and a bit of anger flares inside you. How were you supposed to know what he wanted? 

“Okay well, what do you want then, Joel?” His brows furrow and he brings a hand up to caress your face again. 

“I want to make love to you. I told you that.”

There’s that fucking term again. 

“I don’t know what that means, Joel! Isn’t it the same as fucking? I don’t get it.” His brows unfurrow instantly, becoming soft and a bit upturned in what seemed to be concern. And to add insult to injury… you can feel him softening inside you. 

“What do you mean?” His voice is much softer than yours, but it frustrates you. You struggle not to roll your eyes at him. 

“I do not know what that means. I do not understand.” You talk slower than necessary, not actually explaining anything. You’re being a brat.

He tilts his head at you, giving a gut-wrenching, disappointed look. He kisses your cheeks and tells you to be nice, that he’s just trying to understand you.

“No… It’s not the same as fuckin’. It’s gentle and lovin’. It’s me takin’ my time with you, gettin’ you to open up for me.” You can feel his dick filling back up, stretching you out beautifully.

“It’s me learnin’ about what you like, showin’ you what I think you’d like, and getting you to cum around me and for me as long as I can. It’s more focused on- on love rather than lust.” He sighs quietly. “I’m- I’m bettin’ you’ve never had that though…” 

You hear sadness leak into his voice as he ends his sentence, watching you avert your gaze. He watches frustration and shame creep onto your face. “So what? I don’t even- I don’t think I even like it that way. Slow? It already takes me long enough to cum… I don’t need to be here for hours on end, Joel.”

He shakes his head at you sadly. “You would like it, baby.” He has one hand back on your hip as the other spreads out, his large hand spread over your back as he slowly flips you both over, resting you on the bed softly. “I- fuck, I know you’d love it, honey.”

His words resonate deep in your core, bringing a new wave of wetness to run over his cock. “Oh-” His hips stutter into yours as though he could feel the extra cream flowing over his dick. “Yeah, oh you’d- I think you’ll like it, darlin’”

He places you on the bed and finishes talking before kissing you and raising to straighten himself out. His hips thrust slowly into yours and fuck does it feel good. I mean of course it does, Joel is towing over you like a Greek god and his cock is sliding within your walls smoothly, stimulating every nerve it comes across. You start to buck your hips, impatient with the slow build of the pleasure. You wanted something explosive, something that will leave you heaving for breath and you cannot comprehend how you could possibly get there like this. 

Joel smiles, shakes his head at your agitation, and presses his hands down onto your sporadic hips, forcing them to stay on the bed. “No. Softly, baby. Be gentle with me, c’mon.” He continues his rhythm before, rocking into you with breathless pants. Your pleasure felt just out of reach and it was insanely maddening. “Calm down.” He tells you in a low, warning tone. You swear he can read your mind. 

“Tell me.” He leans down so his lips are right by your ear. He places a kiss on your temple and looks down at where the two of you connect, shoving his hair in your face. “Do you like this?” He keeps at his regular pace, the frustrating, agitating, insanely maddening pace. “Or… Do you-” He lets out a shuddering sigh right next to your ear, your eyes nearly rolling back at the faint sound. “Or do you like this?”

His pace changes into something indescribable. His hips are swiveling into yours and hitting eighteen different pleasure points at once. Your arms come up to grip his biceps, one instantly sliding down to his lower back to encourage him to keep it up.

“Oh-” You sound shocked and out of breath. “Oh. I like that one, Joel. This one. I like this one- please” His pace speeds up and he moans at the sound of your whimper. His attention is finally pulled from where you both meet and he’s looking right into your eyes.

This man and his fucking eye contact. 

It’s doing something to you… the way he’s looking at you. It’s burning into your stomach and has you clenching around him, pulling another ragged, angelic moan from his lips, hitting your lips directly due to his position. You lean up and kiss him as much as you can, most of your brain had shut off the moment he flipped you both over. 

He was hitting so deep inside you, a whole section that you didn't know existed. His cock is slowly sliding over every ridge in your pussy, his veins stimulating your sensitive walls. “Joel-” 

It slips out like a whimper as your moans release. You’re suddenly on 100% volume, unable to hold anything in. You never learned how. You thought you just didn’t moan against your own will, never having been in enough pleasure to let out authentic moans. 

Your hand comes from his lower back to slap over your mouth, desperately trying to hold all your noises in but Joel rips it away. “Don’t do- fuck you feel so fuckin’ good-“ His voice is shaking and breathless.

“Fuck, don’ cover up your- your moans, please. Fuck I wanna hear ‘em” He intertwines your fingers with his and holds your hand next to your head. He straightens himself as much as he can while keeping your fingers interlocked so he can grind into you more deliberately. He’s angling himself a million different ways until you convulse onto yourself. You try to hold in a scream as he fucks into… something. It’s almost painful, the way pleasure punches through your body with every thrust. 

“Yeah?- God fuckin’ dammit."

His hips stutter as you involuntarily suffocate his dick in your pussy. “Fuck- Is that it? Your special spot, honey? I got it dead on, huh?” He’s wearing an irritatingly calm smirk as he teases you. You, on the other hand, can barely breathe.

You’re clawing at anything you can get a hold of, his arms, the back of his neck, his back. You feel like you could cry- or throw up at the otherworldly pleasure Joel is forcing onto you. Your mouth is perpetually open, spewing out moans every other second. Your eyes keep rolling back into your head despite your attempts to look at Joel. You can’t even wrangle together enough thoughts to coherently explain how good it feels, how good he’s making you feel. “Jo- Joel. F-” You’re cut off with a whine as he pushes himself into you more forcefully.

“Joey, please- You’re right it’s s’much better. Shit- Joel!-” You let out a more devastating moan than you have all night, causing Joel to groan out in response. Your eyes open to look at him and he’s staring right at you, his eyes are something you’ve never seen, they’re dark and threatening, like a lion stalking its prey. But in this situation the lion is in love with the gazelle, it’s evident in his eyes, all over his face as he moans for you. 

“Of course ‘m r- right- Fuck, you’ve really got no clue how- how fuckin’-” His statement melts into a whimpering moan as he bends back down to moan into your ear. “You feel fuckin’ heavenly, darlin’.”

It creeps up on you out of fucking nowhere. A moan rips through your chest and destroying throat as you cum around him, his words pushing you to the edge. “Oh fu-uck. Yeah? S’that good, baby? Fuckin’- fuckin’ c-cumming all over my cock with no warning, love? Oh fuck me you’re s-so good, sweetheart.” 

His words fuel your world-demolishing, soul-shattering, mind fucking-ly amazing orgasm. You can feel the pleasure coursing through your veins like molten gold. Your entire body is vibrating, you’re lifting off the bed into an ethereal plane as Joel keeps thrusting into you, moaning soft praises in your ear as you gush all over his cock.

Your eyes are permanently in the back of your skull as your hand runs frantically all over his body, trying to find something to ground you, to keep you from flying away on the cloud of pleasure Joel was providing for you. 

He slows his thrusts in favor of you. Your moans had begun to get a bit desperate, all over the place, feverish and distraught as your pleasure bubbled over into overstimulation. Joel is kissing your neck softly, whispering even more soft words laced with love as your soul returns to your body with a broken whine of his name. He pulls his face out of your neck with a smile, his hips still thrusting into you slowly, just toeing the line of overstimulation. It has you losing your mind. You’re writhing against him as he smirks at you. “Do you want more? I can keep going, baby. I’ll go slow, soft, just like this.” 

He gets a bit breathy at the end, his free hand comes up to cup your face as the one holding yours tenses for a moment. His head drops onto your shoulder as most of his body collapses onto you.

He’s still thrusting into you gently as he groans out against your neck. “Fuck me. You’re turning me into a fuckin’ teenager again.” He grunts out a whine into your skin. “Can’t fuckin’ control shit. O-oh I wanna make you cum again, sweetheart.” His hips speed up as he rambles to you. You lean away from him a bit, forcing his head from your shoulder, and turn to look at him. 

He looks so wrecked. His lips are trembling, glossy, and red from all his biting. You didn't even notice. His eyes are on yours but they regularly lose focus, rolling into his head with a groan. “You’re makin’ me feel so fucking good, love. I just want you to feel as good- I wanna make you cum again.” He sounds more desperate than you could’ve ever imagined, your hand slides up the back of his neck and buries itself in his hair, scratching at his scalp softly, causing his eyes to cross lightly as he moans against you, hips stuttering. “Let me. Let me, let me. Let me pl-lease”

His unabashed begging has you clenching around him erratically, pulling a ruined groan from his lips. “M-make me cum again, Joel. C’mon, baby. I want-” He’s already moaning into your mouth as you speak, his hips fucking into you unsteadily. You’re already close from the intensity of the moment, Joel’s hand cradling your face, your hand in his hair. His head is resting against yours, forehead to forehead but his eyes are still open, piercing your soul and your heart with the love that's residing in them, it has your pussy clenching around him desperately. He’s moaning out shamelessly, loudly, and right into your face, into your mouth. 

“I’m gonna- I need you to c-cum. Holy sh-” You cut him off with a wet, searing kiss that’s mostly groans and whines into the mouth of the other. Your hips lift off the bed to buck into him softly, grinding your clit into the patch of curls that rests on his pelvis. He’s smiling at your movements, the contrast in how they were when he started with you.

“Y-yeah. Good, baby. Soft. Just l-like that, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ pure.” His eyes roll back into his head as your pussy begins to flutter around him. You can feel it this time, building inside you. The coil in your stomach tightens as you feel the angelic feeling inch back into your veins. Your hands grip his hair more desperately, pulling his ear to your lips as your orgasm begins to spill over. 

“I’m- I’m cumming, Joey.” You’re voice stabs into him. The high-pitched and desperate, shocked innocence in it has him twitching inside you. His pace is ruined the moment you utter those words into his ear. He can feel his eyes shoot to the back of his head as he falls into your shoulder again and starts to cum inside you. 

It’s more than heavenly, cumming at the same time as you. His cock is throbbing, shooting out thick, heavy, ropes of his cum inside you as your pussy pulses in time with him, milking him for everything he has. He can’t breathe, all the air has punched out of him as he tries to warn you that he’s cumming.

He wants to moan out for you, call your name over and over to hear you work yourself up into those whining moans you can’t help but let out. He gathers enough strength to push himself up and look at you. He feels like a whole new round of cum spews out of him at the sight. Your eyes are crossed as you moan out at the ceiling. He’s vaguely aware of the way your hand has twisted and tightened in his hair as you cum, your nails digging into his other hand.

He’s smiling through the second round of cum that pumps into you, deliriously happy with how hard he’s made you cum. You sound like you’re in the same situation as him, all the air suddenly gone from your lungs. You’re just letting out barely perceptible moans of his name on loop. 

His thighs shake as his dick finally stops pouring into you. He looks down at the ring of white sitting on the base of his dick and groans. He looks back up at you, wanting to show you the mess you’ve made on him but you’re still so far gone. Your pussy pulses around him arrhythmically as you mutter up at the ceiling, your hand stroking through his hair subconsciously. 

He’s able to come down before you. He pulls out and lays next to you, his head on your chest while he’s muttering those same, soft praises into your ear as your soul tries to find its way back to your body again. You follow the sound of his low praises, grounding you and pulling you back to reality. “-baby. I’m so in love with you. Thank you so fuckin’ much for waitin’ for me, I know it was hard, but I love you so fuckin’ much. You’re so incredible, so so incredible, baby. The best lady I know, the only lady I wanna know. You-” You have a faint, tired smile spreading across your face as he goes on, sounding more out of it than you feel.

“I love you so much, Joel.” You mean to say it softly, fondly but it comes out as something more like a sob. He gasps and looks up at you, that’s when you notice the tears that have escaped your eyes. “This is so embarrassing…” Your hands wipe at your escapee tears furiously as Joel watches you in shock.

“Hey,” He starts to wipe some of your tears away alongside you, although much more softly than your own hands. “ S’not embarrasin’.” He places an endearing kiss to your lips. “I think it’s so fuckin’ cute. The cutest things I’ve seen in years, honestly.” 

You giggle at his exaggeration and kiss his cheeks. “I’m bein’ serious, baby.” He’s giggling too now, placing kisses all over your face, stopping every tear that slips out with his lips.

“I love you so much, Joel.” You take a deep breath as his kisses slow. “It feels like my heart is being choked, squeezed, and like thrown around in my chest whenever I’m with you. I don’t even have the vocabulary to explain how much I feel for you.” 

His eyes are wide and a bit watery as you speak. One hand is on the top of your head, running over your hair as you speak while the other is on your him, his thumb stroking over the skin, sometimes lifting to draw specific patterns. “I wish I had a way to make you feel what I feel toward you, Joel. It’s so fucking much. I feel like it’s gonna explode and pour out of every orifice.” He chuckles and kisses you again, this one feels more emotional, more loving, grateful, and comforting. 

“There you go, talkin’ all proper again.” He kisses you again shortly. “I- I feel the same way darlin’. Except I know even less words to use to explain it to ‘ya. Fuck I- I fuckin’ I wish I could tell ‘ya. You- You feel like- like my whole existence. If that makes sense… No, no it doesn’t, does it? Damn. I- Shit.” You place a hand on his face and make him look at you. 

“You don’t have to say as many things as I did. You’ve already shown me that you love me through your actions… through this. I didn’t even know it could be like that, Joel. That it could- could feel that… good. I didn’t know it was a thing, and then you came in- with all your love and softness, and you showed me a whole new side of everything. I already know… is what I’m trying to say. I know you love me, Joel. I just hope you know that I love you.”

A single tear slips out of his baby cow eyes and he quickly wipes it away with a smile. “I- I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” He smiles wider and brighter than you’ve ever seen, he’s blinding you with its beauty before laying back down on the bed next to you. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you onto him. 

“You’re gonna stay, right? Sleep in here with me?” You shake your head disapointedly against his stomach.

“Obviously, I’m staying here, Joel.” The sigh of relief he lets out almost breaks your heart. You place a few kisses on his belly for reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckles at your words and sounds far away, sleepy, adorable. “Okay… Good. Good, I want you to stay… ‘M gettin’ tired though, honey.” As if on cue, a yawn makes its way up and out of your mouth. “Yeah, me too. Goodnight, Joey.”

He sighs, and you can’t see it, but a smile splits his face the moment he hears the nickname. “G’night, my love.”

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

#joel miller #joelxreader #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us smut #the last of us #luvrxsmut #luvrxfics #smut #nsft #joel the last of us #sub joel miller

[allastoredeer]

HIIIII your Just Kiss Already series has consumed me!!!! I’m OBSESSED! Do you have any idea how long it’ll be in total? I adore slow burns but also the painnnnn of waiting. I totally understand if you don’t know but I am constantly refreshing for updates even though I know this stuff takes time! Do you happen to have any recs for radioapple fics that are similar or you’d recommend to hold me over?

Hello! Sorry for the late response.

I'm still doing a bit of reading myself, I haven't gone through all the fics I've wanted to read, but here's some of the RadioApple I've found so far that I enjoyed:

Lucifer and His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by keelywolfe - A series following the overall dysfunction and strange terrain of Lucifer and Alastor's relationship...of sorts. There is smut involved. I really enjoy the fun, disjointed dynamic between them, especially with Lucifer having to learn/figure out how Alastor thinks to get a grasp of how to interact with him. Do mind the tags, there is some unhealthy relationship in there, miscommunication on both sides, lots of dysfunction involved, and smut, but I really enjoyed their interactions and how they're learning to read each other. Also, it has bottom!Alastor which is my favorite :3

My Kingdom Come Undone by literalmetaphor - Charlie roping Alastor and Lucifer into doing trust exercises to help them get along. Heheh I really like the humor in this one. Both Alastor and Lucifer are such petty little bitches, and it amuses me to no end. They do not hold back their verbal punches. I also really like a lot of the author's descriptions. They're fun and scratch my brain in just the right way. I haven't finished it just yet because I've been busy, but it's still open in my browser so I can get back to it whenever I get time.

Unhealthy Attachments by keelywolfe - More dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer, and what Alastor gets out of having sex with Lucifer (Rated E in case that wasn't obvious). Alastor and his strategic brain, and how that bleeds into the dynamics he builds with other people. I love getting insight into his brain like that. (Another bottom!Alastor fic because 😫👌 I love that shit).

And...huh, that's it, actually. I have a few more pulled up in my browser that I'm gonna get around to reading, but as for RadioApple these are the ones I bookmarked. LOL I'm actually just noticing how many RadioStatic fics I bookmarked.

Hope you enjoy these! I love fics with a fun, bitchy Alastor and a deep-dive into his brain and social interactions with other characters. It's my bread and butter.

EDIT: I forgot to answer your question at the beginning of the asks XD Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the series! I'm not sure how long the series is going to be just yet. I know, at the very least, they'll have to kiss, per the name. My brain loves developing plots though, so it may span longer and REALLY deep dive into Alastor and Lucifer's relationships and the trials and tribulations that put it to the test.

Hopefully, I can get around to writing the next part soon!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #appleradio #lucifer magne #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #radioapple #fic recs #asks #anonymous #anon

[howlingday]

Ruby, up and coming hero blessed with the Silver Eyes, has heard terrible news! A horrible fiend has invaded the lands! A demon, hailing from a long and cursed line, master of sorcery and steel, a silver tongued trickster, a slave master, a depraved incubus, foul crafts hiding under welcoming illusions, a keen mind of gears and schemes and plots within plots, stronger than iron and quicker than quicksilver, all this and more, has taken control of an abandoned fortress! Determined to boldly rid the lands of this foul taint, (and to prove to Yang she’s a big girl!) she sets off to confront the monster alone! (Bad girl! That’s the first rule of adventuring: don’t go it solo!)

Except, no???????? Jaune has never seen or heard of any ‘demon’ around here. He just moved in, trying to strike out on his own, but nothing seems to be cursed from what he can see. He seems nice enough too. He’s fixing up the old ruin, disabling traps, healing folks when they wander into his place, and all that. Strong, smart, endlessly kind. Talks about his family a lot, they look so happy in the photo. That crest looks familiar, but it’s probably nothing. Surely he’s not the monster, but she can sure use his help to slay the monster when she finds him!

You see, the Arcs are only labeled villains because they refused to kowtow to the government way back when. Their views on life, other races, virtues, and such also puts them at odds with the narrative. The Arcs also have higher standards before they allow their kids to go on adventures, so even the weakest is very strong even to other adventurers. Slightly inspired by the Mind Reaver comic strips by Edd Lai.

So, I decided to have a look into Mind Reaver by Edd Lai, and I have to say I love the idea. A Mind Flayer that's actually a good guy and helps people who wander into his house. It's cute, especially when his niece and... servant, I think? Anyway, it's all so cute, and I highly recommend y'all check it out. Anyway, on to the story.

===========================

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE

JAUNE "SALEM'S PALADIN" ARC

REWARD ON APREHENSION

===========================

Ruby looked down at the wanted poster in her hand, carefully examining the features in the mugshot. She'd heard many stories about the Arc family, though much of it was told in the darkest of night as a warning to not stray too far from home, or to not stay up too late, or to file your taxes on time. His jawline was coated in thick hair, and his blue eyes gazed death into the soul of those who view them. There were many other tales, too, like how he'd sway any woman into being his slave, take cannon fire with his bare body, and would even subject whole armies with his sorceries.

Ruby looked up from the poster to see the baby-faced man sitting across from her at the table. She'd found him, demanding to engage in honorable combat between warriors! His response was, "Can we get coffee first?" Ruby agreed and watched as he sipped from his mug after waiting for to cool.

"Ooh!" He winced. "Still kinda hot."

"Uh..."

"Oh, sorry!" He then handed her a napkin. "I think I forgot to split our share."

"No, you already did." Ruby shook her head. "Besides, there's more important stuff going on here!"

"More important how?"

"I mean like this!" She slapped the wanted poster onto the table, earning a groan from him.

"Not another one." He shook his head. "Can we finish our coffee first?"

"I... I guess?" Ruby shrugged. "But why aren't you all... Y'know, big and scary and trying to mind-break me?"

"...Because I can't?" He asked more than he said. He then took the poster in his massive, clawed hands. Each finger was about the size of a breakfast sausage. "I really wish they would get a new picture. They make me look like a monster in this."

"Aren't you?" Ruby asked.

"Half." He answered. "Well, kinda sorta. You see, my great-great-great-"

Ruby whirled her fingers in a wheel as he rounded off each great in his ancestor's name. She'd heard a lot of tales about monsters and humans and faunus getting together, except for the Grimm, who were mindless beasts of destruction. What usually came from these unions was either monster or human or faunus, but on rare occasions, half-monsters would be born. These creatures were then cast out of the village upon their discovery, usually ending with their own demise. It was sad and cruel, but terribly not uncommon.

"-great-grandma Salem, the mother of all Grimm."

"Wait, I thought Grimm couldn't reproduce."

"They can't, but she can. Or could, since she hasn't had any kids since The Great Tear." Open in dimensions from a huge magical clash, brought monsters into Remnant, new age of war, magic, and adventure for everyone. Ruby knew it well enough from the stories. "Ooh! Still hot." He chuckled, after wincing from another sip of hot coffee.

"Okay, so then why is everyone after you? Half-monsters don't usually have posters, unless they commit a crime."

"Well, I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"He did." Ruby whirled in her seat to find a young woman standing in the doorway to the coffee shop. She stepped in with guards trailing behind her, all heavily armored, while she herself wore an elegant officer's jacket. "Jaune Arc, I am placing you under arrest in the name of the Schnee Dust Queendom."

"What did I do?" Jaune asked.

"Yeah, what did he do?" Ruby asked.

Snapping her fingers, a heavy, white book was brought to her hands. Opening it, the pages fluttered until they landed on a pair of pages with Jaune's name and mugshot on them. Clearing her throat, she began.

"Corrupting the minds of the youth."

"Hey, Mr. Whitley asked me to tutor him!"

"Silence!" She barked, her face growing a bit red. "Seducing a high ranking officer of the Schnee Dust Queendom."

"Your mother was a nice woman! She kissed me first!"

"I said shut up!" Her face grew even more red. "And public indecency while resisting Queendom duties."

"You fired a cannon at me!"

"And stripped yourself bare in an attempt to intimidate us."

"MY CLOTHES WERE BURNED OFF!"

"AND I SAID SHUT UP!" Face completely red, she tossed the book behind her in a fury. "You will surrender yourself at once, Salem's Paladin!"

"Oh, come- I don't even know Salem!" He defended. "I've never even met my great-great-great-great-"

"Great." Ruby groaned. "You got him started again."

"And who are you?"

"Ruby Rose, bounty hunter." She smiled. "Who are you?"

"Queen-Heiress-Apparent Weiss Schnee," she huffed, "and I'm taking this criminal in."

"Nuh-uh."

"What do you mean, 'nuh-uh'?"

"I mean nuh-uh."

"-great-great-great-grandma Salem!"

"Did you add two greats on there?" Ruby asked.

"Enough!" Weiss snarled. "You are both being brought into custody!"

"Aw, really? But couldn't we have... coffee?" Ruby winked at Jaune.

"No, we can't." Weiss answered.

"Jaune!" Ruby whined. "You were supposed to throw coffee on her!"

"Excuse me?!" Weiss screeched.

"Yeah, excuse you?!" Jaune reeled back. "Why would I do that?!"

"Because it'd be totally cool, like in an action comic!" Ruby reasoned.

"But it would hurt her!"

"THAT'S THE POINT!"

"ENOUGH!"

The cafe rumbled as white circles covered the walls and floors. An angry Schnee huffed in and out of her nose as she pulled out her rapier. Behind her, soldiers readied their guns on the two. Ruby glanced to Jaune, who gulped at the sight. Looks like she was going to do this alone.

"Are you sure you don't want coffee? It's really good~!" Ruby sang.

"Oh, please," Weiss rolled her eyes, "do you really think you can throw coffee on me now that I'm aware that's your- ARGH! BIG NICHOLAS FUCK!" She held her face as very, very, very, very, very warm coffee splashed onto her face.

Ruby took the cue and grabbed Jaune. Together, the two weaved through gunfire as yellow and red petals fluttered to the floor. The two had successfully made their escape, and it seemed the soldiers inside were easily distracted, too, as they began barking orders at one another. One of them actually barked like a dog, too, which was weird.

"AFTER THEM!" The barking died as the Schnee roared over them all.

Weiss used a blanket of napkins to wrap around ice dust and held it to her face. One guard remained behind, holding her book. Through her anger, she gave him an order that would turn the world upside down for Ruby and Jaune.

"I want wanted posters in every kingdom," she seethed, "and I want that Demon Couple locked up YESTERDAY!"

#rwby #my answer #my answers #jaune arc #ruby rose #jaune is salem's descendent #demon couple au #rwby au #weiss schnee

[dailydegurechaff]

Honestly, Zettour, Rudersdorf, Ugar, and Lergan all trying to co-parent Tanya is good culture.

Zettour is the indulgent one that's far too much like her for the other comfort.

Rudersdorf is the dotting one enabling Tanya and Zettour.

Ugar is the one that spoils her rotten with gifts and tries to invite her to his family's dinners.

And Lergan is the token responsible one whose attempts at discipline are sabotaged at every turn.

In my eyes, every character in the Imperial Army is just one massive found family dynamic. No you cannot change my mind.

I thought just a bit too hard about all of their differences in trying to take care of Tanya, and suddenly instead of drawing, something else came out. Oops. This isn't edited very strongly, very sorry.

Through the walls, I can hear the sound of voices arguing. It’s getting late, and I really would prefer to be sleeping right now, but here I am listening to the unpleasant sound of annoying old men. This sucks.

“I’m just saying, with the way you act sometimes, I find it hard to believe you have her best interests in mind!”

“Oh would you relax, Lergen? You really need to take that stick out of your ass, I’m only letting her have a little fun.”

It seems that tonight’s two combatants are Colonel Lergen and General Zettour. I sincerely hope it stays between just them, but I get the feeling my hopes are going to be for naught.

“A little fun? You’ve been letting her have unimpeded access to your wine cellar! It’s completely irresponsible—”

“Tanya knows how to moderate herself.”

“Does she now? She’s still just a kid, you know!”

“Well, even if she doesn’t, she’ll only make the mistake once after giving herself a horrible hangover.”

“Have you considered you may end up making her an alcoholic?”

Ugh. I’m not sure why they’re arguing in just the next room over like this. It’s not their intention I don’t understand, I’m pretty sure I get that part. I think they might expect Tanya to feel bad if she overhears them fighting over her, so they’re trying to shelter her from it. It’s a nice thought, even if doesn’t technically matter because I don’t actually care. No, the confusion I have is stemming from their choice of location. Do they know how thin these walls are? I don’t think they do because I can hear just about every word perfectly fine.

“Oh, don’t think you’re completely off the hook, Rudersdorf! While we’re on the subject of things we shouldn’t be allowing Tanya to do, you need to stop bringing her to live fire exercises and weapons tests.” Oh, it sounds like Lergen’s moved onto the next target to harangue.

Rudersdorf is quick to clap back and argue his defense, “What? Why? Do you really someone like her could possibly get hurt watching a few little tests?”

“Yes, actually! Because the second Tanya walks onto the grounds, everyone is clamoring for the famed ‘White Silver’ to participate!”

“That only happened once!”

“Once that you told me! I have it on good authority you keep doing it!”

“Tanya herself said she loves flying!”

“Yes, well, she doesn’t like nearly getting blown up by experimental weaponry!”

“Who told you about that?”

I’m wondering about that myself. Lergen honestly has the tendency to be a bit of a mother hen, so I’d avoided telling him about it. Really, it was also for his benefit as well as mine, the poor guy gets terribly sick when he’s anxious. I thought I was being merciful when I decided to tell only Zettour that I’d recently flown for Elenium Arms again.

Ah, wait a second. Zettour. He’s been suspiciously silent now, hasn’t he? He hasn’t said anything in a while, so he’s probably just listening to Lergen and Rudersdorf argue. Considering he was just getting reamed out for the whole ‘letting Tanya have wine’ thing, he’s probably enjoying the fact that Lergen’s anger isn’t directed at him anymore. I wonder if it was him…

“Oh, Zettour, you bastard!”

Ah, it seems that Rudersdorf caught on to the same realization I did. Now the two generals are going to argue. What a joy. Lergen at least has the decency to keep his volume at normal conversational levels, even if his tone gets rather accusatory. The generals do not have that decency, so this is going to devolve into a shouting match. I really do not want to, but I’m going to have to go out there and tell them to shut up, aren’t I?

Uger, the only person speaking at a low volume and therefore the only person who I can’t hear well, says something unintelligible. Following that, I just barely hear Lergen’s sigh and the resigned words, “Alright, go ahead…”

In the next few seconds, I hear footsteps and then my door opens. Colonel Uger appears in the doorway.

“Tanya… are you still awake?”

“Yes, sir. Did you need something?”

There’s a loud noise, like someone just slammed a table with their fist, and Uger hurries to step inside the room and shut the door behind him. It does very little to mute the din of the argument.

There is a beat of silence as we both listen. Uger looks like he’s cringing.

“It’s uh… Have you been able to hear this whole time…?”

“Yes, I have.”

“L-Listen, Tanya… you should know that this isn’t your fault. They love you, and want the best for you. It’s only because they care so much that they disagree—”

Knowing where this conversation is headed, I cut off the incoming lecture he’s about to give me, “It’s fine. I know they’re only arguing out of love for me.” A bold-faced lie came out of Tanya’s mouth just now. It’s not something I believe at all, but I also know saying that will end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“Right… so long as you understand—”

“Oh, shut the hell up! What would you know about parenting?!” Uger’s kind words are unfortunately interrupted by one of the Generals yelling.

There is another awkward pause.

After a second, it seems like Uger has come up with a resolution, “Uh… You know, Tanya, my daughter has been wanting to see you again. Did you want to have a sleepover with her tonight?”

Yeah, I’ll take hanging out with a toddler over listening to this go on for who knows how long. You know it speaks to the maturity level of those old men that a little girl is more well-behaved than them.

Mind made up, I give him my assent, “Yes, sir, I think that’d be pleasant.”

“Alright, I’ll give you a second to get your things together while I go talk to them about the new plans.” With that Uger leaves the room, a stormy expression on his face.

Ahh, now they’ve done it. You know it’s bad when even kindhearted Colonel Uger gets irritated. It’s because he’s so compassionate that it’s always the worst getting reprimanded by him. If you can manage to piss him off, it generally means you deserve what’s coming.

I hope he doesn’t take too long guilt-tripping them, I really would like to go to bed soon.

#bonus doodle #ask #anonymous #youjo senki #the saga of tanya the evil #tanya von degurechaff #lergen #zettour #rudersdorf #uger #papa erich au #woah its writing for once #its short ok #youjo senki fanfic

[clockworkbee]

Why are you so excited for the Seelie Queen? She’s so sleezy to read about that I think I dislike her more than Seb since so much demon blood is his excuse but she doesn’t have an excuse she just.. chose to be bad. And she was shitty to Clary all of Tmi but had sex with her brother behind everyone’s backs while hoping they’d all die in Edom... But I know we got some villain lovers over here so not shaming here! Just curious about the intrigue. I even hate Ash being around her..Yet we’ll probably read about them having sex or planning to have ash as a “weapon” to build up the Ash TWP lore I guess?

Hello, (sorry about my late response, you've probably even forgotten you asked). Thanks for clarifying what you're actually asking, tho! I'll start this by showing the answer in your ask itself (this could be long, idk):

The Seelie Queen is so sleezy to read about. She doesn't have an excuse she just.. chose to be bad. Had sex with our protagonist's brother behind everyone's backs while hoping they'd all die in Edom.

She is by no means among any list of my favorite characters, but her character does interest me immensely. She's one patient, word-twisting, magic bitch, and also the first cool faerie villain character I'd ever read about. Her trickster nature and word games really fascinated me, and I have always been curious about her story. I've wanted to see her perspective (which we could be getting or not), and I've wanted to see her as the main villain (not a side one) ever since TMI.

Now, about why I'm so excited about a story that's supposed to be about her and Sebastian, and I admit, I didn't think about what this story could be (I just didn't have time to wonder 😭) so I never got as far as "reading about them... planning to have Ash as a weapon to build up the Ash TWP lore..." That could be it, tho; a story of them making horrible plans for their wonderful, powerful future in their most desired, terrible world with a baby to make sure of everything and strengthen their united rule! Awesome!

But coming back to your question, I've been curious about how Sebastian even formed that alliance with the Seelie Queen (and no matter the flattery, I never believed either was in love with the other) and what really was it that she saw herself benefiting off of that she supported him. Was it that she could see the potential in his plans of bringing down a part-human race that shouldn't have any power to control her people yet does? Or was it just about an heir symbolizing a strong and scary rule while also getting back at the Unseelie King? Did she plan on betraying Sebastian after she got what she wanted? Or was it all that and more that I'm unable to think of?

These are just some things I've thought of since reading TDA and barely seeing the Seelie Queen make an appearance in other books or stories (TID, TLH, TFTSA, GOTSM, TBC) so the moment I read her name with Sebastian among the ten stories, I was like "finally! Some tea! Something to look forward to that might hold some of the answers I've been waiting for" (or leave me with more questions, lol). So yeah 😅

Thanks for this ask, btw 💗

#tsc asks #bee's answered #seelie queen #sebastian morgenstern #ash morgenstern #better in black #seasons of shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #the dark artifices #the infernal devices #the last hours #tales from the shadowhunter academy #the bane chronicles #the eldest curses #ghosts of the shadow market #the wicked powers #cassandra clare

[murdock-and-the-sea]

noctuary · henry x reader

noctuary (n.)

the record of a single night's events, thoughts, or dreams

summary: you're a young vampire, turned against your will and abandoned by your sire. henry has taken you in, and while you're thankful for his mentorship, there's a certain kind of tension building between the two of you

pairing: henry x reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI. swearing. mentions of blood (duh), one dead fox (sorry), horny vampires, smut, lots of biting (not sorry), kisses, sucking, marking, oral (f rec), filthy kiss, p in v, outdoor sex, you name it sugar

a/n: so I love different vampire myths/lore and obviously, I had to make up a few things for this fic to work. most of my inspiration came from the vampire: the masquerade ttrpg/video games series which I ADORE and uh, this was a lot of fun to write! so there's quite a bit of plot to this. ...oops? Also, some spoilers for the horribly dumb but still somehow entertaining movie that is eat locals.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

The world felt inky black under the thick canopy of the trees, broken occasionally by the moonlight shining through a few patches, but you found your way easily, your eyes adjusting to the dark. The air was warm, heavy and damp with summer and the scent of flowers and grass hanging all around.

You’ve been walking for an hour or two now, heading deeper into the woods to clear your thoughts. You weren’t sure if it was working.

But you needed a little space.

The past few months have been hard, to say the least. You remembered walking home late one night, lost in your thoughts - and then, your next memory was waking up on the side of an abandoned road, curled up in pain as your whole body was wrecked by cramps, shivers and the deepest, most ferocious hunger that you have ever felt in your life.

It was sheer luck that Henry and Sebastian found you, dragging you with them, fleeing the impending dawn as you fell in and out of consciousness, too weak to struggle.

You could still recall that hunger, fighting to take over you until you felt the metallic taste of blood pooling on your tongue - that sinister-sweet, dark pleasure filling you, a single drop falling from the corner of your mouth and the crimson shadow that Henry covered over his wrist.

Even though he wasn’t your sire, a bond formed between you two.

A strong one.

One that was hard to ignore, even now as you tried to get as far away from him as possible, making your way through the undergrowth.

It’s not that you weren’t thankful. Without their help, you surely wouldn’t have made it through that first night. But it was hard to take it all in. The fact that vampires exist felt like the plot to a terrible movie, and whether you liked it or not, it was your reality now.

It was demanding getting used to your new life, both physically and mentally. To control your hunger, no matter how strong ancient instincts were gnawing at your bones. To keep to the darkness.

To play by the rules.

The Council graciously spared your life under the sole condition that Henry was now responsible for you.

Teaching you. Guiding you. Guarding and providing for you until you’re fit to receive your own territory. And your own place among the new Eight.

And you were grateful for his mentorship, truly. But he was - how could you put it?

Overbearing.

Of course, there was much to learn - from the history of what you’ve become, to your new-found abilities, and Henry took his time explaining it all. But he was always with you, shadowing your every move. On some nights, he allowed you outside, teaching you how to feed, how to blend in with the shadows. But most of the time he saw it best if you stayed inside, where you could be kept safe despite you frequently voicing your disagreement.

It was patronizing, and it was driving you insane. The fact that he saved your life was already enough to make you feel indebted to him for eternity - even if you’ve thanked him numerous times, and he never mentioned or taunted you with it. But it was there, hanging thickly in the air between you.

Just a few days back, you were out hunting, crouching together in the shadows on the outskirts of the forest. Motionless, you waited for something, anything, to cross your path.

You swallowed thickly at the memory of Henry’s body pressed tightly to yours, his breath fanning your face. Vaguely, you were aware of him talking, the low whisper in your ear sending shivers through your very core.

Then, a low chuckle, a smirk on his face when he realized you didn’t hear a single word of what he was saying. Even as he scolded you, all you could think about was how fucking close his lips were to your skin; and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to get closer or farther away from it.

Nevertheless, all that close proximity wasn’t doing you any favors. You felt tense, all your frustration pent-up and ready to burst. More and more often you caught yourself looking at Henry, your gaze lingering over him: his face, his lips, his beard, down his neck before you caught yourself and turned abruptly away.

You’d sit there, frozen in silent horror, begging all higher powers that this be no more than a passing infatuation.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Yet sometimes, just sometimes, when you couldn’t bear it anymore and let your eyes wander to him again, you’d catch him staring right back at you. His expression unreadable, umber eyes darkening as he focused intently on you. Like a deer caught in the headlights, you’d gape back at him, fleeing the room with the lamest excuse tumbling out of your mouth.

Then, you’d close the door on yourself, laying in bed in the dark, thoughts racing as you wondered about the taste of his lips, or how that beard would feel against the soft skin of your thighs.

At sunset, Henry woke you from an uneasy sleep, to let you know he was going out for the night. Except this time, he wasn’t taking you along.

“Seba will keep you company.” he said, already halfway out the door when you snorted indignantly, muttering under your breath. He stopped, turning back slowly.

“What was that?”  he asked, voice low and eyes flashing dangerously in the dusklight.

“Nothing.” you replied, and made sure it sounded as venomous as possible.

Henry took a step back into the room, towering over you.

“Good.” he said, and while he sounded calm, there was an underlying threat in his tone that made it crystal clear he was not up for your bullshit tonight. “I have something to take care of. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“You could take me with you.”

God, you sounded so pathetic.

“This doesn’t concern you.” he said, leaving no room for argument. In a second, he turned his back on you, a whisper of a pain making room in your chest at how easy it was for him to be so dismissive of you. A sharp contrast to the yearning that seemed to burn every inch of your being, and you had to bite your tongue to not beg him to stay.

He looked back from the doorway, giving you one last warning.

“I’d better find you here when I’m back.”

Fuck him.

He was barely out of the house and you managed to convince Sebastian that you felt tired and wanted to be alone. You hoped Henry wouldn’t bite his head off for being naive enough to believe that lie.

Just to be sure, you waited a little before climbing out the window and made your way towards the woods. The cool night air, and the hike through the forest helped take your mind off of things at least. Not completely, of course, but it was nice.

It felt of freedom, even if there was a life to the forest; one the daylight would never let you see. Several hedgehogs crossed your path, hurrying on their way and you scared off an owl when a twig snapped under your boots.

Eventually, you reached your destination - a small creek cutting the forest in two, opening up the night sky. There was much more light here - the full moon rising high, illuminating the trees and breaking into a myriad pieces on the surface of the water.

You sat down on the riverbank, taking it all in. The clouds were clearing in the gentle wind, revealing the stars to you. Absent-mindedly, you pick up a small stone and throw it in the water. The splash scares up some critter hiding at the other bank and the leaves rustle under its paws as it scurries away.

For a few minutes, you just sit there, listening to the trickle of the stream and the occasional cricket chirping in the distance.

And then, you sense him, his presence looming behind you.

You’re not sure how far he was following behind because god damn it, you didn’t notice a thing. In fact, you’re pretty certain you only noticed him now because the bastard let you and that realization stirs up some old anger in you.

“What do you want?” you spat, refusing to spare him even a glance as you threw another stone.

“‘S nice to see you, too.”

“Go away.”

Another splash. He doesn’t move a muscle, of course - you’re in no position to order him around. It reminds you that you have no say in this game, no power. Instead of bickering, he simply sits down next to you, much to your surprise.

“I found a dead fox in the bushes. Was that you?”

You turn to him with a cold glare. “I’m not proud of it, y’know.”

Henry just chuckled. “Yeah, you’ll get used to it.”

You couldn’t help it. You were hungry, and taking what you needed from humans was not something you were ready to do. Pretty sure it wasn’t something you’d ever be ready for. At least there was no judgment from Henry for that. He was a firm believer that even as a vampire, one could still have standards - something he encouraged while mentoring you, too.

His voice dropped lower.

“I just want you to understand-”

“It’s fine.” you interrupted, throwing yet another stone. The words were venom on your tongue, except this time, you didn’t mean it. It just hurt.

Henry scoffed. “Can you stop being a brat for five minutes?”

“You don’t have to explain. I don’t care.”

Splash.

“But I do.”

“Don’t.” You raised your hand, ready to hurl another rock when he caught your wrist.

He wasn’t causing you any pain, just held on firmly when you struggled. You expected him to get angry. To yell. But when you looked over, ready to stare him down, to bicker until fucking dawn; there was something else in his eyes instead. Something soft, and caring - and it scared you.

With a huff, you tore your hand from his grasp. But you shut up.

Henry took a deep, uneasy breath.

“It happened only a few months before we found you, when there were still Eight of us. We met one night, to discuss some official matters. It was supposed to go all smoothly, far enough from town at a rural farmhouse.”

He snorted at the memory. “You’d think a handful of ancient vampires would know better, but we weren’t careful enough. I guess the past centuries made us a little too comfortable. A group of soldiers overwhelmed us.”

An awkward silence settled slowly, causing you to swallow against a sudden dryness in your throat. Never in your wildest dreams could you guess that something like this was behind his caution and sheltering. There were precautions to being a vampire, sure and the rules and quotas were in place to protect you, but still.

“A lot of my friends were killed that night.” He continued. “Only three of us survived - and Seba.”

“That was the night you met Sebastian?” you asked, incredulous.

“Yeah.” Henry looked over to you with concern. “Did he tell you about all this?”

“Just mentioned something in passing, once. Then panicked and refused to say anything else when I tried asking about it.”

“That sounds like him alright, yeah.”

“But what happened exactly?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it just as quickly, shaking his head. “One night, I will tell you. But I can’t, not now.”

He shifted closer, leaning in; you could almost feel his skin touching yours. If you tilted your head, just slightly-

“I- I can’t let that happen again. I couldn’t bear it. I can’t.”

You could practically hear your heart breaking over the pleading in his voice. “Henry…”

And there it was again. That gaze that seemed to see right through all the walls you’ve built, baring all your deepest desires. He was so close, impossibly close, his breath on the air, a whisper like a breeze.

 “I can’t lose you.”

You moved before you could think. Just an inch forward, pressing your lips over his. His breath hitched and you braced yourself for inevitable disappointment; for refusal. You weren’t ready for the soft moan in the back of his throat, giving himself to you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, îngeraș*.” he muttered before slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you didn’t even try to resist him, almost high on his taste.

Where you were desperate, needy and giving in, he was now intense; almost controlling as he took over, one hand slipping to the back of your neck, lowering, pushing you down until the scent of wildflowers erupted around you as you hit the ground, the starry skies embracing you from above.

Panting heavily, Henry pulled away briefly only to look at you, eyes glowing in the dark before he practically attacked your clothes, stripping you of your shirt, your own hands busy with his belt, tearing off his coat, getting rid of anything that could come in your way.

He looked absolutely gorgeous; better than anything you could have ever imagined: his body bathed in the moonlight, muscles glistening with sweat. Your eyes dropped to his neck, then lower, down his chest, following that sweet happy trail and you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself anymore, reaching out - only for him to catch your wrists again.

“Not yet,” he taunted, kissing the inside of your wrists half-apologetically. “I know you’ve been waiting for this, angel, but I’m gonna make you earn it.”

You choked on a sound, opening your mouth to protest but he interrupted you.

“That’s right,” he added, amusement evident in his voice at your shocked expression. “You think I couldn’t hear you? Panting and writhing and whispering my name in the other room as you touched yourself?”

You could feel heat creeping across your face, half in embarrassment, half in defiance as you tried to wrestle your hand free.

“Fuck, Henry, just let me touch you-”

“No.” He said firmly, grabbing your other wrist, pinning your hands above your head with ease as he laid above you, his face a mere inches from yours. “If I’m to claim you, right here, you’re gonna lay there and take what I’m giving you and you’re gonna be a good fucking girl and obey, you hear me. Can you do that, huh? Just once?”

You smirked. “Make me.”

The growl he let out was carnal, fangs flashing before he bit down on your neck. You moaned at the feeling of his teeth sinking into your flesh, just shy from breaking skin but enough to leave a deep mark, a final claim to make you his.

He grinded his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing to your thighs and you practically whimpered, wanting to feel him inside you.

“You’re mine.” he whispered, pressing kisses over his mark, “mine.”

Then, a trail of open mouthed kisses leading to your collarbone, your breasts, and he brought your hands down with his, fingers intertwined with yours to keep you in your place. You were a squirming, whimpering mess as he toyed with your nipples, fangs barely scraping your skin before he took them in his mouth, suckling on them, coaxing the most delicious sounds from you.

You clenched around nothing, needy and craving more as you tried to get some friction, grinding against him. One last lick, his eyes closed as he hummed in appreciation, his tongue slowly sliding over the soft skin of your breasts.

He was hunger itself, feral on the scent of your arousal as he slid lower, leaving small bites all over your stomach and sides, and you moaned louder and louder each time his fangs sinked into your flesh, practically crying with need.

And fuck, if it didn’t feel good to know you had this affect on him, the power to make him drop to his knees and worship every inch of your body with his mouth, his breath damp against your skin.

“Henry, please.”

One last bite, harder than the others, a low growl warning you to let him take what he needs, craves, wants. He squeezed your hands before finally letting go, laying flat on his stomach between your legs, eyes glowing with a fire like the stars above.

“Beautiful angel.” he said, arms wrapping around your thighs, holding you close, keeping you in place as he finally devoured you, dragging his tongue up between your folds, and you almost sobbed, lost in the pleasure.

Your hands scrambled until you found purchase in his hair, shamelessly guiding his movements as you rocked against him, your clit throbbing as he nipped and sucked on it. It felt like you could come any second, your whole body trembling with the force of it when he pulled away.

He wanted to give you more.

His beard was glistening with your arousal, and he made a half hearted attempt to wipe it away, only to reconsider, sucking his fingers greedily for every last drop. When he climbed over you, you couldn’t contain it anymore and reached out to cradle his face, pulling him in for a filthy kiss. He obliged happily, letting you get a taste of yourself.

He didn’t bother to warn you before he thrusted inside you, and fuck, it knocked the air right out of you, a choked sound in the back of your throat he swallowed readily. He filled you up completely, fitting so perfectly that there was no question he was made for you; born for you eons ago for this moment to make you lose yourself in him, his body, his yearning, his love.

He started rocking his hips, his eyes drawn to where your bodies met, watching his cock disappear in you, filling you with pleasure. He was drunk on your moans and the way his name hung on your lips, the way your hands looked for purchase so frantically, grabbing for his shoulders.

Panting, he picked up his pace, pounding into you harder, faster, deeper with each stroke, hissing, cursing softly under his breath when you dragged your nails down his back but fuck if he didn’t love it. It didn’t take long to get you close; the way you clenched around him, your eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming feeling of your whole body overcome with pleasure drove him over the edge too, the two of you cumming together, the clearing next to the creek loud with your grunts and moans.

Henry barely kept himself from collapsing over you, too greedy to pull out just yet, and you didn’t mind. You were high on euphoria, dizzy with pleasure, your hands lazily caressing his skin.

“We have to go.” he eventually said, softly, in-between featherlight kisses that he peppered along your neck.

He was right, you had to get back before sunrise.

“I want to stay like this forever.” you replied, the words tumbling out of you before you even realized.

“Don’t worry,” Henry said, smirking. “The dawn will find you in my arms, draga mea*; but not here.”

*îngeraș [romanian]: little angel

*draga mea [romanian]: my darling

@itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass 😘

#henry #eat locals #henry eat locals #henry x reader #eat locals fic #eat locals fanfic #v's scribbles

[our-death-means-flag]

izzy hands x reader where like him, they get up with the sun and work all day but unlike him, they get intense migraines when they’re overwhelmed. this can be literally as short as you want it to be im just so anxious lately and my head hurts like hell

For Professional Reasons

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader Summary: When you’re not up when you usually wake up, Izzy goes to check on you. For totally professional reasons. Warnings: Izzy

Izzy woke up before the sun as usual. He got ready quickly and headed up to the deck and noticed something was off immediately. Usually you’d be there to greet him. The idea of having two first mates on a ship felt utterly ridiculous but the Revenge was utterly ridiculous in a lot of ways. At least you actually were competent. All of his yelling did nothing but as soon as you asked gently, the crew would leap to do whatever you asked. It was ridiculous. But you were… fine. It was almost nice to have someone up with him early in the morning. The two of you would drink your coffee or tea together and it was nice. Hell, sometimes you were awake before him and he’d walk on deck to see you already working, usually with a cup of coffee all ready for him. For you to not be up already working was incredibly bizarre. 

He briefly considered waiting for you but his mind was already buzzing with everything horrible that could have happened. Fuck it. He was going to go get you.

 Izzy tried to rationalize it as just a part of his duty. He needed to check on you for completely professional reasons. Definitely. 

He already had a hand on his sword as he knocked on the door of your cabin. He’d knocked on your door before and you’d always been quick to cheerfully invite him in. So not getting a response was concerning.  Sword drawn, he decided that he was going in. If anything had happened to you, he would raise hell. For completely professional reasons. Izzy pushed the door open and rather than some terrible scene all he saw was you curled up in your bunk, pillow wrapped around your head. 

“Y/N?” He asked. His voice came out much gruffer than he meant to. 

“Hmm? Yeah?” You mumbled sleepily. Then your eyes widened as you seemed to recognize him. You jumped, immediately sitting up and looking much more out of order than he’d ever seen. “Shit! Izzy! Fuck! I’m late right? I’m so incredibly sorry!”

You managed to stumble to your feet and grab your jacket before Izzy fully realized how terrible you looked. You looked like you hadn’t slept in a while (despite having just rolled out of bed) and you had one hand clutched to your head even as the other fumbled with the buttons on your jacket. Izzy had no clue how to deal with this. Were you sick? Hurt?

“Y/N?” He asked again softer this time.

You were still kind of mumbling about being sorry. Clearly you weren’t going to listen so he grabbed you by the shoulders and all but shoved you back in bed. That seemed to snap you out of it somewhat. You still had one hand on your temple. “Iz, I’m sorry. I’ll be right up, I promise.” You restated, conviction  clear in your tone.

“What’s wrong with you?” Izzy asked and immediately felt bad when you flinched. That sounded so much more like an insult than an honest attempt to ask what’s wrong. You looked moments away from apologizing again and Izzy felt like he might drop dead if you kept apologizing to him when he’s the one being a dick. “No, fuck… That sounded… Fuck. Are you… Are you alright?” He tried.

You gave him one of those patient smiles that made him want to hurl himself into the ocean because of how they made his heart jump.  “I’m… I’m fine. It’s just… Just a migraine.” You shrugged, making Izzy realize he still had his hands on your shoulders. He instantly let go but you just smiled as if you didn’t mind at all. “I get them sometimes. Especially when I’m overwhelmed and yesterday…” You smiled, any casualness you were attempting to portray made moot by your obvious wince.. “Yesterday was a lot.”

Izzy could definitely see where you were coming from there. The crew had done two raids almost back to back when their target ship was sailing with another smaller ship. It had gone well with only minor injuries but it had been utterly draining. Even Bonnet was too exhausted for his ridiculous storytime and (rather than complaining as they usually would) the crew didn’t even make a fuss. But you’d seemed fine. 

Although… Now that he thought about it. You had still been working by the time he’d gone to bed. “Did you sleep at all?” 

You looked almost guilty, like a kid who got caught staying up too late. “Not really. Maybe an hour or two. Usually can’t sleep when I have them… Hurts.” 

“That bad?” 

“Feels like I took a cannonball to the skull at point blank.” You chuckled, humorlessly.

Izzy hissed in sympathy. He knew a thing or two about being kept up by pain. 

“I really can be up on deck in a few minutes. I won’t make you take double duty ‘cause of me.” You offered. You seemed more worried about inconveniencing him than your own pain.

“No.” Izzy replied firmly. “You are going to stay here. Lie down. I’m sure I can handle the idiots for one day on my own. Hell, maybe if I told them that you wanted them to do their chores they’d actually do them.” He felt oddly satisfied when that got a slight chuckle out of you.

“Iif the crew gets too rowdy, feel free to drag them in here and I’ll look all pathetic and sad. Might work.” You added with a small smile. 

Izzy rolled his eyes but it probably would work…  “Is there anything that can help with your migraines?”

You smiled again and Izzy was feeling incredibly unprofessional. “Thanks. A cold compress would be good if that’s not too much of a pain…”

“I’ll get one.” Izzy nodded, already planning ahead how to make sure you got fresh compresses throughout the day. “And when Roach is up, I;ll get you something light to eat.” He offered.

“Thank you. Just… If there’s an emergency, don’t hesitate to come get me, okay?” You sighed and lied down.

“Of course.” Izzy lied, well aware that he wouldn’t bother you unless the ship was actively on fire and/or sinking.

As Izzy turned to leave, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a soft hand grabbing his ungloved hand. He turned to see you smiling. “Thanks Iz.” You said, your tone soft and kind and genuinely grateful. “It really means a lot.”

He gripped your hand back for a moment before catching himself and letting go. “You’re welcome… Now just lie down…”

Izzy all but ran out of your cabin, closing the door as softly as he was able, trying to push the thoughts of how soft your hand was and how gentle your smile was out of his mind. 

The way he traced his palm where you’d touched his hand, was irrelevant.. He was just helping you out. First mate to first mate. Totally for professional reasons. That was all. 

A/N: I get migraines too and this was as much for me as it was for you, anon. Hope you enjoy

#feral gremlin man has my heart in a chokehold #ofmd x reader #izzy hands x reader #ofmd #our flag means death #israel hands x reader #ofmd izzy #our flag means death x reader

[cha-melodius]

This is very exciting I can’t wait to read what you come up with.

For me?

Firstprince. A corner office.

(HELLO LOVELY thank you for this prompt, and I hope you enjoy the finished product. 💕)

chamel’s fandom fest info | read all the fics

Step Into My Office, Baby

(firstprince, 2.4k, E; read it below or on AO3)

Henry is staring out the window at the southern end of Central Park when he hears a very familiar cadence of footsteps entering the office behind him. A moment later, Alex gives a low whistle.

“Look at you, Mr Fancy Pants with the corner office,” he says, his voice low and teasing and shot through with fondness.

Henry still winces slightly. “I did try to turn it down.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re an idiot,” Alex says. He’s leaning up against the door frame, his legs crossed at the ankle and arms folded in front of his chest. It’s late in the day, and he’s shed his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow, revealing muscular forearms that Henry can’t keep his gaze from lingering on. When he manages to force his eyes up, Alex is smirking at him. “You earned it, H. Fair and square.”

If anyone had told Henry two years ago that this moment would happen, he would have laughed in their face. To say he and Alex did not get along at first would be putting it mildly. Or rather, Alex resented Henry and everything he embodied, and Henry saw the benefit of keeping Alex at a distance even as they were forced to share an office. Then, getting accidentally locked in the building overnight together yielded a tentative truce, and a fast friendship had bloomed in its wake. It’s been lovely and also dreadful, because now Henry is constantly forced to weather his warm smiles and his teasing smirks and his bloody forearms.

The owner of which is currently flopping bodily onto Henry’s new couch and wiggling his hips in a completely obscene manner as he gets comfortable.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna fucking live in here,” Alex tells him as he stretches his arms up and tucks his hands behind his head.

Yes, nothing to worry about at all.

~~~~~

The corner office comes with promotion and a whole heap of new responsibilities, and Henry quite quickly finds himself drowning in work beyond the long hours he’s used to spending with Alex at the office. He’s in the middle of a particularly terrible stretch at the moment, the looming deadline somehow simultaneously the light at the end of the tunnel and the headlamp of an oncoming train. Alex has been in the thick of it too, working late nights beside him, though that apparently doesn’t include tonight.

Henry loves him—truly, to his endless misery—but he needs to work, not listen to Alex chattering aimlessly while he sits on Henry’s couch tossing M&Ms into the air and catching them in his mouth.

“I was thinking about Thai,” he says, as if it isn’t gone one in the morning. “D’you think Noodies is still open?”

“No,” Henry huffs. They’ve been closed for three hours, and Alex knows this. “Why are you still here, anyway?” he snaps without meaning to, immediately regretting it when Alex’s face falls.

“Well, I was keeping you company and making sure you don’t collapse into an endless spiral of work like a fucking black hole, but I guess Mr Corner Office is too important to need anyone’s help,” Alex sneers, pushing himself angrily to his feet.

Christ, they haven’t spoken to each other like this since that horrible first year, and even more than the work, that’s what finally breaks Henry. Alex is halfway to the door by the time Henry catches him by the elbow, and he jerks out of Henry’s grasp immediately. Thankfully, he does stop, though the glare he levels at Henry does a poor job at masking the hurt written on his face.

“Alex, wait,” Henry pleads. He lets out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand over his face. Christ, he’s too bloody exhausted for this. “I’m sorry. It’s just this project is driving me batty. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Well,” Alex says, fidgeting as he frowns down at the ground. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” He sighs as he looks up again. “But I get it. They’re putting too much on you.”

Henry reaches out and puts a tentative hand on his elbow again; this time, he’s not shrugged off. “Can you forgive the stuck up prick in the corner office who takes everyone else for granted?”

“That guy?” Alex snorts. “No. But you’re not that guy, H.”

“I feel like him sometimes.”

“C’mere,” Alex mumbles, and the next thing Henry knows he’s being tugged into a tight hug.

It’s not the first time they’ve hugged, but it’s the first time it’s been so fierce, and it feels like it fundamentally shifts something inside Henry. Alex winds his fingers into Henry’s collar and buries his face in his neck, and it’s all Henry can do to hang on like he’s clinging to a life preserver in a storm.

Except somehow, Alex is both the life preserver and the storm.

~~~~~

When the project finally wraps up, it’s a big deal, and the whole office celebrates accordingly.

“Work hard, play hard,” Alex sing-songs with a wink as he fills Henry’s champagne flute again.

He’s been ricocheting around the room, putting that patented Claremont-Diaz charm to good use. There’s almost certainly a promotion with his name on it after all of this, so he has more than enough reason to celebrate. He’s already been teasing Henry about stealing his office. Henry feels jubilant, effervescent like the bubbles bursting in his glass, and he forgets to be self-conscious about the way he watches Alex. Forgets to school his expression. Forgets not to smile too broadly when Alex hooks an arm around his neck and hangs off him like a monkey.

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” Alex says all at once, tugging him toward the door of the massive conference room that’s serving as the party hub.

“You quite literally just poured me a new drink,” Henry points out.

“So bring it with you. C’mon,” he almost whines, which should not be as endearing as it is. He’s unleashing his most devastating giant brown puppy dog eyes. Henry never stood a chance.

“Where are we going?”

“I just need a breather,” Alex sighs heavily. He drags Henry down the office corridors at nearly a jog, until the sounds of chatter and clinking glasses fade away, all the way to the open door of Henry’s office. At Henry’s cocked eyebrow, he laughs. “Best view in the building.”

He doesn’t walk over to the bank of windows, though. Once Henry’s inside the door, he pushes it shut, sealing them off from the rest of the office. Then he returns to Henry’s side and plucks the champagne flute from his hand. He downs half of it in one go, laughs at Henry’s affronted “hey!” as he deposits the glass on the desk, and grabs the fronts of Henry’s jacket before he starts walking backward across the office. Henry can’t help but laugh helplessly at Alex’s chaotic manhandling, at least until Alex stumbles into the couch and he’s dragged down by Alex’s dead weight dropping out from under him. They land in a giggling heap, and Christ, he’s in Alex’s lap, but when he tries to disentangle himself, he feels Alex’s grip go tight at his hip. An arm slides around his waist, loose enough not to be demanding, but firm enough to prevent him from moving away.

Oh.

Startled, he looks down at Alex, whose cheeks are flushed a dusty rose from the champagne and the exertion, who’s breathing heavily through pink lips temptingly parted as he stares back up with his bottomless dark eyes. He isn’t laughing anymore.

“I like this office,” Alex murmurs. “Something about it settles me. When I’m here.” His grip shifts on Henry’s hip, fingers tightening. “With you.”

“Alex,” Henry whispers, barely daring to breathe.

One corner of Alex’s mouth twitches. “Maybe it’s not the office.”

It’s impossible to tell which of them moves first to close the narrow gap between them, lips meeting in a fierce, hungry press that quickly deepens. Alex nearly bites at his lips, dragging his teeth along their inner edges, and it shouldn’t work for him but fuck, it really does. Henry finds himself pressing closer, revelling in the way that Alex’s arms tighten to bring their bodies together as he sinks his fingers into Alex’s curls. 

“Christ, I never thought you’d want—” Henry starts, though he doesn’t manage to finish that train or thought before he’s diving in to kiss the corner of Alex’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Alex breathes as he tips his head back to give him better access, “me neither.”

“What?” Henry asks, huffing a soft laugh against his skin.

“I mean, does anyone expect to fall in love with their work nemesis?”

That makes Henry pull back and stare down at him in shock. “You’re—”

“In love with you?” Alex finishes. There’s an impossibly soft look on his face, but it’s undercut by a flicker of nervousness. “Yeah, baby. Head over fucking heels.”

Henry feels himself tremble at baby, which is an entirely novel experience, though perhaps not unexpected given how his usual reaction when Alex teasingly calls him sweetheart. He’s so fucking overwhelmed that the only thing he can manage to do is lean in and kiss Alex again, slow and tender and full of all the words and emotions threatening to choke him. He presses his forehead to Alex’s when they part, and for a moment they just breathe together—unconsciously, perfectly, in sync. It’s everything he never let himself imagine, all those late nights together, all those meetings and emails and coffees delivered with sunny smiles that he refused to read into. Alex is warm and solid under him now, grabbing his waist as they kiss and kiss and it becomes heated again, until he’s rocking his hips up eagerly to meet Henry’s in a way that is rapidly going to become a problem.

Especially since Alex seems to find it not a problem at all.

“Wait, Alex, we can’t—” Henry tries, biting down on a groan when Alex palms over his hardening cock before making quick work of his belt and the fastening of his trousers, “—the windows.”

As if that’s the most troubling thing about them having sex in Henry’s office while half the company is just down the hall.

“We’re on the fiftieth floor, baby, no one’s gonna see,” Alex says, undeterred, grinning wickedly as he slips a hand into Henry’s boxers.

Right, then, that’s… good enough, actually. Henry’s been waiting for this for two and a half bloody years and he’s not really inclined to wait any longer. He kisses the smile off Alex’s face as he sets to work on the buttons of Alex’s shirt, rapidly pulling them open so he can get his hands on more of Alex’s skin. And Christ, he’d known Alex was fit—it’s hard not to know, with how ridiculously tightly cut he wears his suits—but it’s another thing altogether to drag his palms over the swell of his pecs and the hard lines of his stomach. Alex bites down hard on his lower lip when Henry tweaks one of his nipples, then retaliates by twisting his palm with just the right amount of pressure over the head of Henry’s cock. Henry moans as his hips buck up into Alex’s grip, chasing the friction that borders on just this side of too much.

“What do you want, baby?” Alex murmurs against his lips, and ‘everything’ feels like too big a concept in the moment, so Henry chokes out, “Just this, just you—” and lets himself get lost in the feeling of Alex’s hands on his skin. He’s so unbelievably worked up that it’s not long before the tension building in his groin is reaching a breaking point, but it’s looking down that finally does him in—watching the head of his cock appear and disappear within the tight circle of Alex’s long fingers, brown skin against dark pink. He tumbles over the edge with a choked off laugh, clinging desperately to Alex as he works him through it, until he’s hissing at the point of oversensitivity.

For a moment he just breathes, his face buried in Alex’s shoulder, mindful of Alex shifting slightly beneath him even if he’s trying not to be obvious about it.

“Not trying to harsh your afterglow here, but d’ya think you could move so I could get a tissue or something?” Alex asks eventually.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Henry rasps, dropping his hands to the fastenings of Alex’s trousers. He shifts back to get a better angle and tugs Alex’s boxers down enough to release his cock, long and rock hard and leaking at the tip, then takes Alex’s hand covered in his come and wraps it around his shaft with his own, weaving their fingers together.

“Oh,” Alex gasps, his hips immediately rocking up into their combined grip, Henry’s come slicking the way and filling the silence of the office with some of the most obscene sounds Henry’s ever heard.

He lets Alex set the pace, which starts out as a slow drag and rapidly picks up tempo, until Alex is quivering under him and swearing in at least two languages. Alex tips his head back against the couch, and Henry can’t resist ducking down to scrape his teeth along the long column of muscle so temptingly laid bare before him. The movement seems to make every muscle in Alex’s body tense up, and then he’s coming with a “Fuck, baby,” that has Henry groaning along with him. 

They clean up quietly, trading soft kisses that they occasionally get lost in, setting each other to rights enough so that they can— well, perhaps not return to the party, but at least leave the building. Henry doubts that their absence has been noticed, anyway.

“Jesus, I’ve been wanting to do that since you got this office,” Alex groans once they’re done, pushing a hand through curls as he stretches slightly where he sits on the couch. 

“What, that specifically?” Henry asks, furrowing his brow at him.

“I mean, more or less,” Alex admits. One side of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk. “To be fair I think I’ve imagined every possible way of taking you apart on this couch.”

“Christ, Alex.”

Alex grins broadly and shifts over to press his lips to the corner of Henry’s mouth. “You wanna hear the list?”

“You’re an incorrigible delinquent,” Henry protests, letting himself be drawn into another kiss. Then he leans in, lips brushing the shell of Alex’s ear, and whispers, “Tell me at home.”

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #chamel's fandom fest #my fic

[aspoetssay]

Hey, I really love your story. But I have a request. Can you do like Ghost x GN!/M! Reader they have a fight and broke up. The reader secretly stalk Ghost and find out that he has found someone new. It brokes the readers heart because they still love him. I don't have another idea anymore but can you do it more angsty😌i just want to cry🥲

If You'd Want - You'd Stay Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!reader

first of all, I'm terribly sorry for such a late response and second of all, if you ask for angst - I shall deliver...

warning: pure angst and hurt

It wasn't like other times. It wasn't just another fight. It was the one where Simon aggressively draw an ultimatum, packed his bags and never stepped foot in this flat again.

Your body was twisted in between the blankets, laying in the bed you once shared with Simon and you buried your head in between the pillows as the pain with the memory of his departure plagued your mind. For these past few months now.

"Can you just—not go?" You hesitantly asked.

Jesus, it hasn't been full forty-eight hours and he was gathering his gear again. He just came back from a mission that was over two months and you had no idea the whole time if he was even alive.

"You know I can't. I can't deny direct orders from my superior." His answer was always the same - direct orders, superior, for a month or two.

You huffed out and stood up: "For how long?" Your voice was sterner than usual. But you were sick and tired from waiting for him. It wasn’t as if he was leaving for a casual business trip - he was constantly risking his life and every day out there meant another day in which you could get a call and find out he was dead.

How much longer can you endure it? How much longer could he make you endure it?

"A month or two - it's not specified."

Here it was - the same answer as always. But this time, you just couldn't take it - not anymore. "I just got you back. You cannot be actually telling me that you're leaving me for another two months!" Your voice was stern, surprisingly, as you weren't good with arguments. You were always trying to bottle your feelings up, but when was the time to release them?

Simon angrily shoved his gloves into the backpack and turned to you: "What do you want me to do, huh? It's my job - I don't get to choose when or where to go!"

At this point you would've just stayed silent, just like the other times, but not this time. You just couldn't anymore. It always seemed like he didn't care about you. Like he didn't care about the damage he was doing to you with his constant departure. Why did he even need you if he was constantly leaving you?

"What about me, then? What about us? How long will this go on? A year? Two? Five?! What about what I want?" You were desperate. You didn't want to lose him. You just wanted him home.

His eyes clouded, not with sadness or the sudden realisation that he has been horrible to you, but with anger. "If you cannot handle who I am - then why do you even bother?"

"Because I love you! Because I actually want us to have a future. But how long will I have to wait for you? How long—until you'll realise that you have to care about me too?"

There was a beat of silence.

"I'm not planning to retire," he finally said and it completely shattered your heart.

You took a step back, your face feeling burning as your eyes were stinging with prickling tears. In the depth of your heart, you really thought that he was going to choose you.

"I'm not going to wait for you anymore."

Something flashed in his eyes, but you couldn't decipher it - hurt, perhaps? It has been so long until it was just the two of you together and it was as if you couldn't read him anymore.

"Fine."

It was horrible that his last word to you was just—fine. It plagued you. You didn't even know if he was alright, if he was even alive. But he didn't call you and you weren't going to call him.

He made his choice and it wasn't you.

You grabbed your phone from the bed table and the screen flashed right into your face: 12:04 am. Putting the phone down, you sighed - ever since he left, you had a horrible time trying to sleep.

That's why, you slowly stood up, threw a simple outfit from the clothes splattered around the bedroom, grabbed your phone and car keys and left the flat.

You often found yourself on the nights like these, when it got too overwhelming, driving to a fast food place nearby where you and Simon used to go. Well, at least at the beginning of the relationship. When you were still so eager to help him. To save him from his nightmares.

You quickly drove there, parked your car in your usual spot and got outside. It was a chilly night, even if everything seemed so cold towards you. Closing the door, you gazed into the place, through the windows, to see a group of teenagers having a blaster - probably on their way to some party.

And in the corner where you sat, well, where you used to sit with Simon - sat a couple. You slightly squinted your eyes, looking at the two seated people and your heart dropped.

Your car keys dropped on the asphalt and you leaned to the door of your car, trying to catch a breath - it was Simon. Jesus, you could spot him from miles away, you had his silhouette memorised into your bones.

And he wasn't alone.

The male, sitting in front of him, was laughing wholeheartedly and you could notice that Simon's shoulders were slightly moving - he was laughing as well.

You quickly moved down and grabbed your car keys and got into your car as fast as you could. You put the key in the engine and twisted it and grabbed the wheel, but you froze.

You were sitting right in front of them.

And a piece of you was relieved to see that he was alive. He was back once again. But it was only a reminder that he never needed you. He never cared. Because there was something hard you had to understand, but you were just never ready for it: you can't fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed.

You couldn't save Simon and now, you were the one who needed saving.

#sunnywrites! #call of duty #call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #call of duty headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley #simon riley x reader

[wellwrittenevilbitch]

Who is the better written evil bitch!

Propaganda

Erebus

Anyone vaguely aware of Warhammer may know that pretty much everything is horrible for almost everyone involved. Erebus is responsible for a surprisingly large amount of it.

His horrible crimes started when he was boy, back then he wasn't even called Erebus. When she was a kid he already was known to be such a horrendous kid that his parents told him to be more like their neighbour's boy: Erebus. His response was to kill the original Erebus and steal his identity.

After this he joined the space marines under command of another man named Lorgar Aurelian. Erebus, in this time, followed the chaos gods, a set of four gods who pretty much rule over hell/afterlife. The chaos gods are very malevolent and Erebus was very much okay with that as long as he got what he wanted from that. Erebus used his position to slowly corrupt his lord Lorgar to follow chaos as well, and after that he corrupted Horus (another lord of another group of space marines) with a poisoned knife and magic gained from the chaos gods. This kickstarted the Horus Heresy: a galactic civil war in the imperium which culminated in the death of the emperor of mankind and a large group of the imperium falling to chaos and causing irreparable damage to the imperium at large. Meanwhile Erebus never stopped scheming to gain more power. Backstabbing and turning on friend and foe alike if it would gain him more power, sadly never getting what he deserves.

All for one:

Tbh, there's so much to tell about him, I'm kinda at a loss where to start and what to tell here. This is gonna be very rambly, so, sorry lol.

So. All For One. He's the Evil Bitch Supreme. He does awful, evil, terrible things for his own profit (and also for fun), he's completely unapologetic, he's fully self-aware, he knows that the things he's doing are evil. In fact, he's doing all that heinous shit on purpose. He's being evil quite literally on purpose. Because he's playing a character. His favourite comic book villain, to be exact, and essentially is trying to write a 'fix-it' fanfic where his blorbo wins into reality. I'm not gonna go into how exactly he operates, his parasitic nature, his extremely weird and complicated relationship and obsession with his younger brother (that's a whole other can of worms), just gonna talk a little bit about his overall personality.

Unlike other villains in the story, he avoids being humanised. He doesn't want to be humanised. His face is hidden from the readers for 3/4 of the story. His real name is unknown. He glorifies and takes power in the idea of being dehumanised, being just a villain, just a monster. But knowing MHA's themes - no one is inherently a villain. There is no 'inhuman' monsters. They are all very much human. His villain persona isn't just him playing a character, it's more than just him playing a character - it's a form of escapism. So what is he escaping away from? What would force someone to go that far into their own escapism? What would make someone feel that being seen as a monster is better than being seen as a human?

He believes that a person's destiny is defined by their quirk, and that everyone are characters with roles and paths they cannot stray away from. And in his mind, he's also the one who defines those roles and writes the narrative for them. Shigaraki Tomura (Real name: Shimura Tenko), his pupil and 'successor' (whom he kidnapped at the age of 5 and groomed into this 'Shigaraki Tomura' persona for 15 years, btw), is essentially his OC that he based on an evil and obedient version of his late younger brother and that he later tries to quite literally self-insert himself into. And he applies that to himself, too. His villain name is the name of his quirk. He even implies a few times that he is a bit of a kleptomaniac when it comes to quirks, and that he cannot help it because it's HIS (quirk's) nature. In fact, any time someone does not follow his narrative, and acts outside of the little box AFO put them into in his own mind, he goes absolutely livid, shaking, crying, shitting himself, because they're breaking his Immersion the story that he's writing. By trying to be not just the writer, but also the main character and the main villain, he inserted himself into the story, and became bound to it's rules. And if there's a rule in this story, it's that all villains are just people. The further we go, more and more glimpses of his humanity are being shown, despite him desperately trying to hide away that he's just a weak, pitiful person who chose to perpetuate the cycle of abuse done to him and other meta-humans during the Emergence of Quirks era.

#Erebus #All for one #Mha #warhammer 40000 #Warhammer #erebius

[stvngrantsgf]

i'll keep you company ☆ steven grant x m!reader

summary: steven is stood up on a date and a kind restaurant owner keeps him company.

steven had done it again. he'd fucked up another date because marc insisted on one last mission for the night. which obviously turned into six hours of traveling, scoping out the place, and then taking down the last of ammit's followers hidden in london.

steven was happy and understood the responsibility that marc and him both carried but for once, he just wanted to feel normal and again and maybe, just maybe, find someone to love. layla was out of the picture as she told both the boys that while she cared for them, she didn't want to have an romantic relations due to their past with her father and the "issues they needed to work out".

steven had had a date with a pretty boy he met on the bus but he was late. incredibly late. so there he was, moping at his favorite vegan restaurant, eating a mushroom burger with marc trying his best to cheer him up.

look, i'm sorry. i swear that's the last time i'll ruin a date.

he sighed, mumbling back to marc, "yeah, yeah. it's alright. didn't really know the bloke anyways.."

lies. they'd been texting non stop and now his number was blocked.

you'll find another one. you're a total catch.

steven snorted, "yeah, maybe you are. not me. i'm just little stevie."

he made a face using the name donna gave him. he was tired of ruining things with the rare people that gave him chances.

hot guy coming over.

☆

you had been eyeing the man sitting in the corner of our shop for a while. you had seen him many other times and wanted to approach him but was too nervous. he was always shy but happy and tonight, well, he was not himself.

you figured this was your chance. you could talk to him about what was troubling him and get to know him. so, you had walked over.

he looked up before you could speak. his eyes were a warm brown color and you could see every line on his face. he was beautiful. your voice got stuck in your throat, coming out a bit squeaky and you breathed out a hello. 

he gave a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes but was still polite. “oh, uh, hello.”

you completely forgot what you had came over for until you looked at his plate which was almost finished. “people don’t usually look so miserable eating my food.” you chuckled.

he blushed, his eyes widening and obviously trying to think of what to say. 

“oh- bloody- i’m so sorry, no your food is amazing. best burger i’ve eaten. that’s not meat. even beats meat, i’ll honest. sorry, i’m rambling now.” his eyes fell down, a frown coming on. 

oh no, you made him sad! stupid, stupid, stupid! you pulled out the chair opposite to him and sat down. 

“it’s quite alright. i was just teasing.” you watched his face for a moment. “are you okay?”

his face crumbled. this poor man was obviously going through a lot. he sniffled and wiped his eyes.

“i’m sorry, i’m not usually this much of a downer-”

“please, stop saying sorry-”

“sorry.”

you met his eyes and you both broke into laughter. 

“no one’s asked me if i was okay in a while.” he continued, “i, uh, was late for a date and he’s blocked me now.”

a date? you thank the gods for him missing the date, but then feel horrible as he’s this troubled.

“you must really like him, huh?”

he shakes his head. “no, i mean, he was sweet and all. but it’s just this has happened before, with other people. i have terrible memory.”

“i’m sorry to hear that... were those for him?”

you point to white flowers wrapped in brown paper and a very cute teddy bear. the man grimaces, “yeah, they were.”

“i hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” you start. “but, i see you here a lot and i’ve been trying to figure out how to say hi without sounding like a fool. if you would like to have a date tonight, i’ll keep you company.”

his eyes widen, and he stutters. “w-with you?”

you bite your lip nervously. “well, yeah. i completely understand if you say no-”

“yes! i mean, yes, i’d love to go on a date with you. i’m steven.”

you smile and tell him your name. steven repeats it. 

“that’s a beautiful name. so, you own this place?”

you nod, taking it all in. “yes, i do. it was my mother’s bakery but she gave it to me when i told her i wanted to be a chef.”

“that’s fantastic. she must be proud.”

“yeah, she is. so, steven, what does a handsome guy like you do? model?”

“me?! a model?!” he belly laughs. “if i was a model, the gods would be having a right laugh. no, i’m an archivist at natural history down the street.”

“are you serious? that’s so cool! i used to go there all the time when i was a student with my sister.” 

the conversation flows from there and you both gush to each other about your interests in art, music, and history. you’ve never felt this connected to anyone before and the mystery man in your shop was better than you ever imagined. 

☆ 

steven hadn’t expected his night to turn out exciting and romantic. he felt understood and seen for the first time in his life. he didn’t feel as if he was a burden or stupid. you listened to him and his rants about donna and marc (who he referred to as a friend). before you knew it, it was way past closing time and you both were the only ones seated in the store. 

steven looked at you, desperate to continue to conversation. “could i get your number, love? i would love to see you again.”

you quickly nodded, pulling out your phone. “here, type yours in and i’ll shoot you a text.”

he passed your phone back and reached behind him, picking up the flowers and teddy bear. he was incredibly nervous. “i’m glad i missed my date and talked to you instead. please, these were meant for you.”

you smiled. “you’re an angel. thank you, sweetheart.”

you looked at him, contemplating kissing him before decided to go for it. 

his lips tasted like the cherry pie you two had shared and were soft. your lips moved together slowly, enjoying the moment. you cupped the back of his neck, pulling him closer across the table and slipping your tongue into his mouth. 

finally, you both separated for air. you forehead rested on his, both of you softly panting. 

you licked your lips and spoke first, “i’ve been waiting to do that all night.”

his eyes were glazed and his pupils blown out. “breakfast? please?”

you nodded, smiling and pecking his nose before sitting back down, “yeah, baby. meet me here at 10.”

☆ 

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY I DIDN’T CHECK FOR MISTAKES. 

#steven grant #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #moon knight #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader

[daydream-cement]

Violet and Rose Ch. 27

Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

Authors Note: :(((

“Ro, I can’t stay and chat. Larissa has this whole dinner thing planned tonight. She has been acting so weird lately, so I assume she needs to tell me something.” You were packing up your work bag when Rowan came into your classroom, shutting the door behind herself. Tonight you didn’t have time for late night gossip or shenanigans. 

“Sorry, Fern... This can’t wait.” 

Rowan’s tone made you turn on your heels. She sounded impossibly sad and scared, like she was about to tell you terrible news, “What is it?”

Her hands took your shoulders, seating you back down in your desk chair. She almost looked as if she wanted to cry, “I should have- Fern, I should have told you sooner. You are going to hate me. I just- I needed to tell you before- I-”

“Tell me what, Ro?” You took her hands in yours, trying to offer her some type of comfort. What could she possibly have done that would make her hate you? She was always too honest, too loud, and too much, but those were the things you had always loved about her.

“Fern...” She held your hands tight, leaning against the edge of your desk. You could feel her hands trembling as she began tripping over her words, “That woman... that I’ve been seeing... She- I- You know how I’m so in love with her. I can’t live without her.”

“I know, Ro. I’ve never seen you happier, but why would I hate you for that..?” You squeezed her hands and moved your chair an inch closer, hoping that your gentle tone and gestures could make her feel better about whatever she was about to tell you. 

“It just happened.. After everything that happened at Nevermore... I couldn’t stay away. I love her like you love Larissa. When she broke out of jail, I just- I didn’t know she would hurt you...” Rowan spoke quickly, words pouring out of her mouth before she could structure the sentences. She was hoping if she could get them all out then you could piece it together in your own gentle manner. 

It clicked. You knew who she was talking about, but you didn’t want to believe it. You wanted to remain understanding and avoid jumping to conclusions, but you couldn’t hide the anger you felt if it was true, “Rowan... You- What are you telling me?”

“I’m in love with Marilyn. We have been together for months. Fern, she has gotten so much better. She has changed!” Rowan tried pulling your hands to herself, but you tore them away, pushing your chair back to stand. She remained leaning against the desk, your eyes level with one another. You felt your jaw clench and you attempted to control the anger you felt. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There was a part of you waiting for her to tell you she was joking. That this was all some horrible prank. 

Rowan continued, not giving you time to speak. She sought to make you understand Marilyn and the relationship they had in the most condensed way possible, “She has been staying with me. I turned her into a vampire. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. She is everything to me. I love-”

“She tried to kill me. She tortured me. She filled my body with so much poison it should have killed me ten times over. And then she hurt Larissa-” Your voice began raising in volume as you cut her off. You didn’t want to hear about Marilyn’s improvements or how much Rowan loved her. The pain and fear you endured at the hands of that woman should be more than enough for your friend to hate her like you did. 

“I know! I know what she did!” Rowan met your anger with anger of her own. She didn’t need you to explain to her the evils of Marilyn. These were actions that plagued the vampire’s mind quite frequently. Ethical battles that she hadn’t yet laid to rest. 

“Yet you love her?” You stare at her intently, wanting to hear Rowan admit to the horrible truth. 

“Yes.” 

Rage built in your chest. You wanted to scream and throw things. You wished Rowan Ali wasn’t your best friend. In response to her, you picked up your work bag and jacket, “Then I have nothing left to say to you.” 

“Fern-” She started once more, her hand grasping at the handle of your bag. 

You jerked your arm back, your words as swift and harsh as your action, “Get out of my classroom.”

“No.” Rowan stared at you indignantly, folding her arms in front of her chest and settling back down against your desk. 

“No? You have no right to be near me, Larissa, or my future children. As long as you are with her, you are a danger to us all.” You wanted her to hurt. You wanted your words to cut deep. You wanted her to feel the same sting of betrayal that you were experiencing at this moment. 

“Don’t say that. You are my best friend. We can-” Rowan attempted to reason with you, but you weren’t interested in hearing of it. 

“We aren’t going to do anything. You are going to stay away from me and if I were you, I would get far away from Nevermore before Larissa can even find out. If she were to find out that you were harboring a killer, she would-” You began walking away from Rowan and you were halfway across the room when she cut you off with words that hurt more than her earlier omission. 

“She knows.” 

“She knows? When did she-” 

You expected Rowan to throw Larissa under the bus out of spite, but she seemed to be protecting her instead, “She saw me with her when she was out on her balcony. Larissa saw us in the courtyard. She gave me until today to tell you or else she was going to tell you herself.”

“I-”

“Don’t be mad at Larissa.” You continued walking to your classroom door and held it open, glaring at your former best friend, “Get out.”

-----

You slammed the front door behind yourself, tears rushing down your cheeks now. The tears began flowing before you entered your home. You were furious with Rowan, disappointed in Larissa, and terrified of the thought that Marilyn had been living at Nevermore since she attempted to kill you. Larissa was waiting there for you, standing awkwardly and wringing her hands. She knew tonight would have been unpleasant for you, no matter who delivered the news. 

No matter how frustrated you might have been with Larissa, she was the only person you wanted to hold you and comfort you in that moment. She met you with open arms, enveloping you into a tight hug, “W-why didn’t you t-tell me?”

Larissa bit her lip, wincing at the pain she might have brought you. When she spoke, the guilt and nervousness she felt was evident, “I thought it should come from her. It’s your friendship after all.” 

“You aren’t supposed to keep secrets from me.” You pulled back from the hug, looking up into her eyes. In the end, you really weren’t all that mad with Larissa, everything she did was justified in a way, but you were so hurt and afraid that anyone was a target of your frustration. 

“I-I’m sorry...” Larissa tugged you back into the hug which you returned with great fervor. You needed to be held and comforted. 

When most of your tears subsided, and Lairssa felt your breathing evening out, she pulled you to the living room. She settled into an armchair and drew you into her lap, cradling you to her. The flurry of emotions subsided and you were filled with grief for the ending of your friendship, “I can’t believe this... She was my best friend. Why..? Why?”

“We do crazy things for love.” Larissa had been thinking about the situation endlessly and after speaking with Rowan, she held the smallest amount of sympathy for the vampire. Rowan had gone years without romantic love and even Larissa knew that love wasn’t always something you chose for yourself, but rather something you can fall into. 

Your mind was running wild with the possibilities of potential scenarios. What if she was biding her time, waiting for the babies to be born? What if she was slowly poisoning Larissa? You voiced your concerns, “But Rowan loves us. That woman is probably plotting a way to hurt us again. What if she hurts the babies? What if she-” 

Larissa’s voice cuts off your words, but you don’t feel absolutely comforted, “No, what ifs. I will figure out a way to make our home safer. No one is going to hurt you.”

You couldn’t help but add one more, this time with your voice whispering, “What if she tries to hurt you?” 

“What is it you told me all those months ago? The words from that song? No grave will hold my body down... I’ll crawl home to you?” Larissa’s voice hadn’t wavered in her confidence that everything would be okay. She rocked you back and forth, her voice steadied your ruminating mind, “I will be right by your side.”

“Through thick and thin?” 

“Through thick and thin.” 

You begin to focus on your breathing, trying to ignore everything that has just happened. Larissa’s hand finds your cheek, fingers tracing circles and made up patterns. Your fingers play with the buttons at the top of Larissa’s dress, but your thoughts drifted from each interaction and moment with Rowan since you came to Nevermore. All this time. She had loved Marilyn all this time. 

-------

After you settled down, Larissa made you eat some dinner and you both changed into comfy clothes. Now you had settled between Larissa’s legs on the couch, her arms wrapped around your middle so her hands could rest on your stomach. Under the blanket you shared, Larissa had pulled up your shirt so she could feel your growing belly under her fingertips.

There was one of your period drama shows on the tv playing, but you were lost in thoughts of your (ex) best friend while Larissa was busy thinking about the babies. Both of you were drawn into the here and now when the smallest of movements came from your stomach. Larissa and you both spoke in unison. “Did you feel that?”

Both of you sat in silence, waiting to feel any additional movement from the babies. Only two more kicks came and Larissa brought her lips to the side of your neck, her voice absolutely thrilled, “They will be strong little girls.”

“We don’t know if they are girls...” You turn your face to speak to her and Larissa takes the opportunity to press an additional kiss to your cheek. Rather than respond, you exhale deeply, relaxing into Larissa’s arms. 

You turn your eyes back to the TV and watch the main character and her love interest stride around the garden. A small romantic scene begins where the characters are enraptured in the others' gaze. 

“What kind of flower is that?” Larissa asked, her eyes obviously drawn to the large flowers that hid the characters from the prying gaze of others. 

“Alcea rosea also known as althea rose, hollyhock, or rose mallow...” You offer in response, hands shifting down to rest atop of Larissa’s. The type of flower in the show was particularly beautiful and was the most vibrant shade of red, almost akin to the shade of Larissa’s lipstick. 

“Althea Rose...” Larissa tasted the name on her lips. Her fingers spread wide and shifted to grasp your fingers between her own, “That would be a good name for a baby...” 

-----

She tried texting and leaving notes for you, but after weeks of no responses, she gave up. Rowan even moved off campus, fulfilling her promise to Larissa that she would keep Marilyn away from the students. There were moments you had to stop yourself from texting or calling her. Talking to her had been a daily fact of life, but after everything that was done, how could you trust her again?

It would be months before you talk to Rowan again. 

You needed her. It was an emergency. 

Larissa was away on a work trip when your water broke. You were going into labor, four weeks too soon. 

#larissa weems x oc #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems #wednesday netflix #fanfic #fern rogers #ferissa #stately sequoia #cold dead heart #the cedars have eyes #violet and rose #gwendoline christie

[eyesaremosaics]

Confronting the shadow self is daunting. I feel so overwhelmed by all the things that are wrong with me… on one hand I have grown exponentially—and changed for the better! However, in other areas I have gotten worse. Mainly my deep seated anger (that surfaces at inappropriate times), and also my inability to regulate my stress responses.

What ends up happening is that I bite off more than I can chew and become overwhelmed. As a people pleaser, I have a tendency to take on more than I can handle, and it takes a toll on my nervous system.

Trying to sit with these feelings. When I am sick for example (which doesn’t happen very often), I get REALLY sick… and then I snap at people, become very short with them and have a bite to my words. This is because I am in a lot of physical pain, but I should just call in sick and prioritize my self care instead of subjecting others to my bad moods. I always say “YES I can do that”, “sure, no problem!” When really I should put my foot down and say: “I’m not feeling well, I need to stay home and rest today”.

By forcing myself to work, I am not only making myself miserable, but also making everyone around me miserable.

Sometimes I come home from working with children… and just cry because I know I failed them that day. I FAILED as a caregiver. This happened a few weeks ago. I was getting stressed out because it was getting late, and the little guy needed to get up early for his first day of school the next day. I was getting snippy with him, and he told me: “Megan, when you get mad at me, it makes me want to cry.” I felt like the most horrible person in the world. I broke down and started crying. Telling him that he was right, and how sorry I was. I explained to him that I was just exhausted from working too much, and that it wasn’t his fault, and he absolutely did not deserve it.

I cried because I don’t do it on purpose, but at times I feel powerless to stop it.

My mother always used to yell and my siblings and I… because she was so overwhelmed with her life… it did a lot of damage to all of us. Don’t get me wrong—I love my mother deeply. She made my childhood magical in many ways, and I have a lot of respect for her. She had a hard time of it when we were growing up (as sole bread winner or single parent a lot of the time) and she did the best she could with what she had. I suppose that’s true of all parents.

Some days you feel good, you know you made a positive impact on a child’s life, and some days you know you (unconsciously) did damage. We are only human after all. My mom feels terrible about how she yelled at us. It must be genetic, because my grandmother admitted to doing it too when she was younger.

It has made me reevaluate whether or not I want to be a mother one day. I am good with kids actually, they love me almost immediately and I get along great with them because it’s so easy for me to become a child again and play with them on their level.

Growing up poor does something to your psyche. You end up with this “scarcity” mindset that I just hate. I realized that I eat so quickly (which is horrible for your metabolism btw) because I was 1 of 4 children—if you didn’t eat quick during dinner, you didn’t eat. Always feeling like there is not “enough” to go around, always starving for more love or attention (because you had to compete all the time to get it).

Seeing all these things so clearly now. The antecedent moment is known to me, but the way forward is not. I have been “catching myself” in the act of bad habits and trying to reshape my behavior. I’m grateful to my mom for teaching this to me too. She was always the first to apologize to us when she was wrong. She was humble and took accountability, which showed us that grown ups make mistakes too.

I remember confiding in my grandmother about how much “mommy yells”. My grandma told my mom what I’d said, and my mom really took it to heart. She would take deep breaths and count to ten before unloading on us. I remember actively watching her try to change, and she did eventually.

I hope that I can manage to do the same, and that the damage I have done to people I love is not too great to be healed.

Trauma is not an excuse. You don’t get an excuse to treat people poorly. Though I know… I have a good heart. I would never hurt ANYONE on purpose. I know myself at my core, and the core of my heart is very loving and compassionate. So now is the time for me yo be more compassionate with myself. By understanding where these wounds come from, I can catch myself and pivot my response. I can also apologize and say: “I’m sorry, I am working on managing my stress better, please let me try that again.”

A month ago, my boyfriend, my cousin, her girlfriend and I all went up to Mendocino. Yury (my boyfriend) manages 62 acres up there for the scouts organization he volunteers for. Usually we camp or stay in the cabins, ride around on the ATV’s, toast marshmallows, swim in the creek etc. It was a fun weekend, until the accident.

My little cousin, is my cousin through marriage. When I was a freshmen in high school, she was just a baby at 2. We went together like peas and carrots. I saw so much of myself as a little girl in her, and I felt very protective of her. Her parents were both tweakers, so they were mostly absent. My grandma, my grandpa and I all had a hand in raising her. She grew up to be a good kid, but I was concerned to hear from her girlfriend that she was very reckless at times and made dangerous impulsive decisions.

Basically, what happened was a long chain of events that I won’t detail here (because it will take too long to flesh out), was that after warning her all day that the ATV was not a toy, that she needed to go slower on it, she didn’t heed my warning and flipped the ATV over with my boyfriend riding in the passenger seat.

My cousin’s girlfriend and I were in the cabin listening to music. She asked me if I heard anything, but I said it was probably just the music. Then we heard it again, we opened the door and went outside. We saw my cousin running up the path screaming “help! The atv flipped over! Yury is trapped underneath it!”

My boyfriend was pinned under the ATV. Adrenaline kicked in and I thought for sure he was dead. I didn’t want to believe it. I was terrified. The next thing I remember was hearing him screaming in pain. My brain relaxed slightly, to hear he was still alive. Now time to asses the damage. I tried to lift the ATV on my own, but no way, it was too heavy. The girls all started pushing from different sides in their panic, which was grinding the roll cage further into his leg.

He screamed in agony. I told the girls: “on three we need to lift at the same time girls ok? One, two, three!” We somehow managed to lift it. First just to release his leg. I looked over Yury to make sure no vital organs or anything were crushed in the crash. Thankfully it was just his ankle and his foot.

Somehow we managed to push the ATV back on to its wheels, so it wasn’t leaking fuel on the ground. At this point the full blown shock and panic set in. I ran to the first aid to try to find bandages, but I was panicking so much that I was looking but not able to read words. I was kicking the boxes screaming “I’m looking but not seeing”. My cousin came in and said; “why don’t you let me do that?” At which point I rounded on her and started screaming “why did you do that?! Why did you fucking do that?!”

I was so furious. I went up in flames. I must have looked possessed. Her girlfriend told me that my screaming wasn’t helping and to pull the car around so we could load yury in.

The situation was critical. It was the middle of the night. We were in the middle of nowhere, no cell reception, and the closest hospital was a hour away. Not to mention we’d all been drinking. I told them: “I can’t drive, I’ve definitely had too much to drink.” I certainly wasn’t going to let my cousin drive after the accident she just caused, thankfully her girlfriend had stopped drinking hours before and offered to do it.

We had to drive into town 20 minutes to get cell reception so we could find an ER. Willits said it was closed. So we had to go all the way to Fort Bragg on these foggy, windy roads with deer jumping out in front of the car—which wasn’t even my car by the way, it was my bosses car. All while Yury is screaming in pain in the back seat.

We almost blew up the car by accidentally… by turning the ignition on while it was pumping gas. Thank god we turned It off in time. More stress.

It felt like an eternity until we got to the hospital. I kept screaming over and over how stupid this was, blaming my cousin and asking why she ignored my warnings all day and thought she could Tokyo drift the ATV like that. To be fair, my anger was justified, she almost killed my boyfriend. However, my yelling and screaming like a lunatic was not. On the drive I managed to calm down, and just focused on helping her girlfriend use the controls on the BMW.

I knew that I needed to just shut up and stop yelling, because I was doing damage. It was better for me to not talk to my cousin because I wanted to kill her at that time. It would be different if I hadn’t been warning and lecturing her all day not to drive crazy on it. Then it would have been on us. However, her eye rolling and dirty looks whenever I said anything about it, and the blatant disregard soon as she was out of range where I could see her—led to the situation we were in.

Granted we had all been drinking, so no one should have been driving, I didn’t say she could, I thought Yury was going to do it. He mostly smokes weed, and is a very safe driver. He’s the only person I trust to drive my car. He blames himself for letting her drive, and truthfully he shouldn’t have let her. However, she is one of those people who doesn’t look drunk when they are. She doesn’t slur her words, or stagger, she looks and talks normal.

She begged Yury to let her drive it, and he relented because “she looked so excited like a little kid” and he wanted her to have fun. He also thought she would go slow in the dark. We were all about to turn in for the evening when this all went down. Yury didn’t even have time to tell her to slow down before it flipped.

We got through it, but Yury is out of commission for months now. He fractured 4 bones in his foot, and he may need to see a specialist to reset the bones or put pins in some of them. He can’t walk, shower, go anywhere or do anything without help. This has put a lot of strain on me, as I already work multiple jobs, and have very little free time as it is. Of course I’m happy to do it and help him, but it has exhausted me. I basically have no time for self care.

He can’t work, so the responsibility to pay all our bills has fallen on me. He manages to scrape rent together with the little remote work he can get done, but everything else (groceries, pg&e, gas, etc) falls on me, and I don’t know if y’all have noticed—but shit is expensive now.

I worked a crazy amount of hours in August. 60-70 hour weeks. Didn’t have a day off for 3 weeks straight between all my jobs. Though I am grateful for the work, grateful that I make good money, not having any free time really wears on you after a while.

Hence why I was getting snippy with the kids. Not an excuse, but it is the origin. Not to mention my cat Persephone of 21 years literally died in my arms… I had quite a bit of trauma compacted into two weeks. To top all of this off, I gad a terrible session with my therapist of the last 5 years, which I think concludes our working relationship.

I told my therapist about the accident, and at the time I was very angry still. The day after the accident, I apologized to my cousin for yelling at her, but expressed my concern that she has these reckless behaviors, and that I hope this will serve as a wake up call for her not to do things like that in the future. She looked at me like she hated me and said: “yeah, ok.” And got in the car and left.

My therapist started in on me, about how I’m actually not taking accountability as I said I was. She rounded on me saying that I’m still saying it’s all her fault, which in my opinion it was, not to mention I was still mad. I think I had every right to be mad, Yury and I have over 4 grand in medical bills that we can’t pay, not to mention the fact that he can’t work, and I have to work double shifts to pay our bills. All because she ignored what I had been telling her all day long. I would not have let her drive the ATV. True, Yury shouldn’t have let her drive, but it was such a relatively short distance, and had she been driving normally, none of this would have happened.

I know it was an accident, I know she didn’t do it on purpose. Yet ultimately, she is refusing to take accountability for the part she played. She did not apologize to Yury, she had not called to ask how he’s doing. Nothing.

She ran to my grandmother and basically painted it like Yury and I told her she could do that, and made all these excuses for her behavior —which is just infuriating. All you had to do, was apologize, check in on Yury and maybe offer to help him out a little while he heals. It’s not that hard. Yet again, for some people, apologies are hard. She wasn’t raised with repentant parents, she never learned how to do it.

My cousin told my grandmother that our relationship is permanently damaged because I yelled at her. That my apology was too late. My grandmother said: “she looked up to you all her life, and you crushed her when you yelled at her.”

Apparently she was hurt in the accident as well, bruising on her side. I didn’t know she was hurt, had I known I would have made sure she went in to the hospital to get checked out. I wrote her a long letter apologizing for telling the way I did (again), but expressing why I was driven to that point and hoping that we could talk and resolve this when she’s ready. I told her I still love her, and always will, but I hope she makes healthier choices in the future. She never responded to my letter, it’s been over a month now.

I remember what it was like to party with a death wish. I was there at her age.

I remember what it felt like to want to chase oblivion, because the pain inside was catching up to you and you had to keep running or it would devour you whole.

I feel so heartbroken about the whole thing. The dissolution of my relationship with her, my anger toward myself at not having control of my rage, my fear for Yury that his leg will never heal right and he may not ever be able to hike or do any of the outdoorsy things he likes to do again…

To return to my therapist, it felt like she was taking my cousins side (just like my grandmother which also devastated me, as my grandmother has been my favorite person since I was a baby), and that I was crazy for being angry and upset that she almost killed my boyfriend.

People can’t always control how they respond to trauma in the moment that it occurs, but we can control how we respond after. My therapist continued to imply that I yell at people the way Yury yells at me sometimes. Not true. I yell because that was modeled to me by my parents, and I attract partners who model this dynamic to me and I live it out unconsciously. I told my therapist that in the moment, I felt like I had no control over my panic and anger. She replied very condescendingly: “how scary that must be for you. That you can’t control it.”

She also insinuated that I shouldn’t be a mother. I know therapists are supposed to challenge you, but they are not supposed to leave you feeling suicidal after a session with them. I felt personally attacked, none of it felt constructive.

Truthfully, things have been feeling off for the last year or so with my therapist. She dropped hints about “making our sessions more infrequent” and talking about ending our sessions when my healthcare runs out. This was the final nail in the coffin that showed me she doesn’t have any respect for me as a person, and honestly doesn’t want to be working with me anymore.

That’s fine, it’s time to move on. She wasn’t a great therapist anyway, I just used the service because it was what my insurance would cover. It stopped being beneficial to me years ago. She did help—I think—or at least it helped to have someone to bitch to once a week.

I had a therapist before her… that I really loved. In 2016 I started seeking therapy because my whole works fell apart during my Saturn return. I lost my home, my job of 7 years, my long term boyfriend who I thought I was going to marry… I lost my best friend. Then a mass exodus of friends taking her side and leaving me too. It was one of the darkest times in my life. I was starving, unable to afford food.. it was a nightmare. My therapist at the time was really amazing , and in the short time we worked together I made more progress with her than anyone else I had seen.

She was spiritual, used to do tarot with me, as well as reiki healing etc. she helped me see myself and the world in a whole different light. It was a Shane we had to part ways because my insurance wouldn’t cover her, and I couldn’t afford to pay out of pocket. I was going hungry so I could see her. I wish I could find that therapist again.. she told me once: “You have been through an abnormal amount of trauma for someone your age, and it’s impressive how resilient you are. Most people with backgrounds like yours, end up on the streets using heavy drugs.”

I’ve been rambling for hours… but I guess I just needed to get this all out. Since all these recent events unfolded, I have been working really hard at taking deep breaths and monitoring my stress levels.

Also I recognize how much I complain, and I think a little gratitude practice would be good for me.

I have a lot to be grateful for. I have work, both my jobs are pretty kush in spite of the crazy hours, I have my health, thankfully my health issues subsided in 2021. I have a home, in a city and a neighborhood that I love. I did a lot of traveling in the last 2 years, I have my family with me, I have good friends. I have creative opportunities coming my way. Yury is still alive, I could have lost him. Thankfully he will heal eventually, and things will go back to the way they were. I have self awareness, which means I can change, and I have love in my life. Lots of it. I need to remember that, when things get tough.

#me #self improvement #stream of consciousness #digital diary

[feluka]

Lebanese anon here. One of your recent posts reminded me of a weird period in my life. This was back during the lockdown when I was still a teen and had gotten very into Critical Role. The Beirut port explosion happened around the time I was still obsessed with them, and I remember sometimes going through their social media checking to see if they said something about it (which is stupid on my part. Many celebrities (and just people working in entertainment) were talking about it, which is why I thought there would be a possibility they would say anything). It might have been my very weird way to cope, but I kept searching for any acknowledgment of the horrible thing that happened in my country when I remember the cast expressing their sympathies or even donating (? My memory may be fuzzy here) for many tragedies that have happened in the US or other countries. There was a very specific (a bit parasocial maybe) realization of "oh they don't care about people like me". I don't know where I was going with this honestly. All I know is that people avoiding mentioning the "Isreal-Hamas conflict" (YUCK typing this hurt. THIS IS A GENOCIDE HAPPENING IN PALESTINE NOT A FUCKING CONFLICT) are cowards and are deliberately sending a message. It really doesn't take much to be a decent person please. It's the bare minimum even.

Anyways. You're amazing for keeping anons on and dealing with the awful shit zionists are throwing in your inbox. Sending love ❤️ ❤️❤️

hi! so sorry i'm late to reply, with anons like this that talk about personal experiences i keep telling myself to think deeply to write an adequate and respectful response instead of answering quickly, but then i forget to answer :'(

i know how you feel. sometimes something so terrible happens that it puts a barrier between you and the rest of the world, a sort of disconnect, because you keep thinking: how can the world go on as usual when this has happened? how can people just live their daily lives as usual when this has happened? how can the birds fly and chirp like everything is normal? it's like your brain refuses that the world didn't stop because of this, because *your* world stopped, and you can't grapple with that disconnect.

i think the recent events are the most stark example of this, because we always try to reason with ourselves that it isn't because the world doesn't care, it's because [insert excuse here] so we can still accept this world because we don't want to believe how cruel it is. but with how the recent atrocities in palestine have been so publicized, and how easy it is to acknowledge that and offer compassion, and yet people still don't... there's no mental gymnastics we can play here to avoid the truth that the rich and famous simply don't give a damn. i want to believe that the people who make beautiful art must have beautiful souls themselves, but people keep proving how self centered they are.

if it's worth anything to you anon, lebanon is always always in my thoughts, and i never stopped thinking about your people since the explosion. and now with the israeli invasion i'm praying for you harder than ever. i hope you are safe and as well as could be ♥️♥️♥️

#asks