#Update: It was at this point I realized I have already snapped

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Okay so like, I’ve never requested anything so I don’t really even expect you to see this lol. But likeeee, can I possibly request a Din Djarin x reader, where neither the reader or Din know Grogu has the armor under his robe that the armorer gave him, and something happens where Grogu gets hurt and they both lose their minds before getting to him and realizing little dude is just fine. Please and thank you 🥹

Ooooh this is a good prompt. Speaking of, if you've asked for one then it's probably on my to-do list, but i am slow🤡. plus, updates of AFS and a couple other things come before random drabbles.

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k (i dont think I'm capable of writing less than a thousand words apparently smh)

AT FAULT

"don't let fear make your decisions." -Michael G. Manning

The quarry was laid on his back as a pool of purple blood began to settle in the sand under him. The twi'lek was motionless and your breathing was finally starting to calm. In one arm you held Grogu who seemed nonplussed by the violence at hand and in your other you held the still smoking blaster. When you managed to tear your eyes off the quarry's body they lifted to land on Din who stood stiff on the other side of the body.

"What the kriff was that?" Din snapped. His entire body was drawn taut like a wired rope pulled to tight. He was nearly vibrating in place and the anger that leaked into his voice was palpable. "Karking⏤ what the hell do you think you're doing out here!?"

His tone made your already irritable mood worse. You stuck the rarely used blaster back into the holster at your thigh. "Apparently, saving you! Maybe show a little gratitude!"

"Grati⏤” The word wasn’t even able to leave Din’s mouth. He stormed forward, boots passing the dead quarry, until he stood right in front of you. Close enough that the Mandalorian was forcing you to tilt your head up to look at him. You knew he stood that close on purpose⏤ he wanted to tower over you right now. “The two of you could’ve gotten killed! I told you not to leave the Razor Crest!”

“We’ve been on that ship for two weeks straight, Din!” You argued. “We just wanted a little fresh air⏤”

“I told you this quarry was dangerous, I said⏤”

“All your quarries are dangerous, Din. You⏤”

“When I tell you to stay on the damn ship,” Din grabbed your by the arm not holding Grogu, “I expect you to kriffing listen. Dank farrik, cyar’ika.” The way he spat out your usual nickname made you wince. “I told you this quarry was bad news⏤”

“And I told you that you shouldn't have taken the bounty!” You yelled and tried to yank your arm free. Din held on tight, and Grogu began to babble worriedly in your arms. “I told you we should take a break! Take a breath! We all need it, even you. Especially, you!”

You yanked your arm back again and this time it broke free. Din settled on placing his hands on his hips, but you could still feel his anger radiating off of him. Tempers had been running high the last few weeks, stuck on a close quarter ship while stressing over the Empire being on your heels, and it seemed the two of you were finally letting it come to a head. 

“It’s naive of you to think we have the time for a break.” Din seethed. “I take bounties so we can afford fuel to run, food to eat, and⏤” He shook his head, taking in a sharp breath before continuing. “You tell me to show you gratitude? Gratitude because you risked yours and Grogu’s life for me?” Din took one step toward you and you took two steps back so he stayed a foot or so away. He pointed to himself. “Everything I do, my only priority, is keeping you and Grogu safe. Away from the Empire. So, how about you show a little gratitude and stay on the damn ship when I tell you to.”

Grogu whined in your arms and you shifted him to the other in a poor attempt to console him. You weren’t ready to climb onto the Razor Crest quite yet. You weren’t done with this fight. Din’s anger and words only spurring you on further.

“You think I’m not grateful for all you do?” You spat. “Of course, I am, you ass! I just hate watching you burn yourself into the ground for us. You need to take care of yourself too, Din. That involves taking a break now and then! That’s why I suggested leaving this bounty untouched. I just want to help.”

Din nodded once then tilted his head. “Right. Yeah. Putting Grogu and yourself at risk was a lot of help. I feel much better. Thank you, cyar’ika.”

You scoffed, “You know what, Din? You are⏤”

The sound of an unfamiliar chuckle and your eyes snapped from the dark t-shape visor to the quarry sitting up with a menacing grin. It took less than a second. It happened so quickly that your mind couldn’t register the movements fast enough.

A blaster raised.

A blaster fired.

And, you didn’t have the time to spin away. The force of the blaster bolt knocked you right off your feet and onto the ground. 

You heard Din scream, the sound hoarse and raw and broken, then you heard another blaster go off. As you laid on your back, you realized you weren’t hurting. Your back was a little sore from landing on it, but you didn’t feel the sharp burning pain of a blaster scorching through your skin. That’s when your brain finally clicked. That’s when you realized. Grogu. Oh, Maker. Grogu. Grogu, baby⏤ Your eyes snapped down to see the little boy’s eyes closed and the front of his robe was blackened from the blow.

The scream that filled the air this time was yours. You felt the sound reverberate in the base of your throat, it rattled your chest, but the only noise you could hear was the racing heartbeats that pounded in your ears. You sat up, cradling him to your chest, and you could feel gloved hands pawing at your arms. Someone was trying to take him⏤ someone was trying to take him from you. You screamed once more, your body shook, and a gloved hand cupped the side of your face. Nothing registered until you saw Grogu blink his big eyes open. Your breath caught in your throat. That same gloved hand pulled aside Grogu’s ruined robe and the telltale shine of beskar stared back up at you. A mudhorn adorning the plate that Grogu wore at the center of his chest.

Grogu let out a soft mumble and smiled up at you. 

“Oh, thank the Maker.” Din breathed. “Cyar’ika. Cyar’ika? Cyari’ka!” A hand titled your face up, tearing your eyes away from Grogu who was wiggling in your tight grip. You met the dark t-shape visor of Din’s helmet. “Are you okay? Did it clip you? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and opened your mouth, but all that came out was a ragged sob. Even after Din pulled you both into his arms, you continued to cry against his silver beskar plated chest until your own chest ached from how badly each sob racked your body. Grogu seemed content to be squashed between you and Din. 

Hours later, in the quiet of hyperspace, Din sat in the pilot’s chair with you on his lap, cradled against his body, while you held Grogu tight to yours. It seemed since the incident Din refused to let either of you go, and you had no desire to complain. Having his arms wrapped around you while you watched Grogu sleep was the safest you had ever felt.

“I’m so sorry, Cyar’ika.” Din whispered. His unmodulated words were muffled by the way he rested his face at the top of your head⏤ buried his lips into your hair to continue peppering light kisses anywhere he had access. In this position, your head tucked under his, you couldn’t see his face. “I am so, so sorry.”

You shook your head lightly. When you spoke, your voice was ragged from screaming earlier, “No, I am. I should’ve listened to you, Din. I should’ve stayed on the ship.” Your eyes began to water again. “I almost got Grogu killed.”

“No. No, that wasn’t your fault. Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut.” Din mumbled the end of his sentence in Mando’a. “You were right. I shouldn’t have taken that bounty. I can’t lose the two of you and I’ve grown… obsessive in trying to protect you.”

“It’s worked. You’ve kept us safe. If I had listened to you⏤”

“You’re not prisoners. I can’t lock you away from the world because of my fear.” Din cut in. You let your free hand trace down the small bridge of Grogu’s nose and he scrunched it up at the contact while staying soundly in his sleep. Nothing Din would say could rid you of this guilt entirely. If he wanted to claim the mistake he could, but that didn’t make it any less your fault as well. “Please speak to me.”

You closed your eyes and lifted your head so you could press a kiss against Din’s throat. He shuddered and sighed at the touch. “Can we just agree that this is both of our faults?”

“We can.” Din shrugged, his arms tightened around you. “But I'd rather you not take any of the blame.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately as we’ve learned, I’m not good at listening.” You mumbled.

Din chuckled. “Good. I don’t want you to blindly listen to me. Your ideas are equally as good as mind, if not occasionally better.” He closed the space to press a soft kiss against yours. It was sweet and tender. Not a declaration of lust or desire, but a reassurance that you were there. Din broke away to whisper. “But if you could at least let me know when you are leaving the ship, I’d appreciate it.”

“Only if you promise to take us somewhere pretty soon.”

“I’m already ahead of you, cyar’ika.” As he spoke, his lips brushed against yours and you had no desire to lean back away from him. Din moved his hand and you could feel his hand brush against the side of your arm every time he soothingly rubbed Grogu’s head. “Crest is on route to Naboo.”

You pressed another light peck of your lips against his before leaning your head back down against his chest. Din settled his head back on top of yours, and you felt the soft caress of his thumb against your arm from the hand that was wrapped around you. Din pulled you and Grogu a hair closer, and you reveled in the silence of hyperspace.

"Also, when did Grogu get a mudhorn beskar chestplate?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

mando'a translations

Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut. [My beautiful darling, this sin is mine.]

#asks #feel free to ask me about anything!! #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #grogu #angst/comfort #fluff

[depraved-gf]

PART 1 OF 3.5 [PREMATURELY ENDED]

**There will be no more updates unfortunately. I've been ghosted. :(

MASSIVE TW'S: CNC, STALKING, RAPE FANTASY, ETC ETC. Basically if you are triggered by intense, dark kinks or sex, please do not read. I do not censor words.

*tagging under #repressedh0e's adventures

Aight so, I can't tell anyone else this because they'd probably call the cops lmao, but I know I can tell y'all freaksss about what happened today. Essentially, I'm being VERY marinated in a cnc stalking scenario for the very first time... Finally! And according to him, it's going to be a very slow burn for anticipation.

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

So, I've been talking to this local guy for a lil bit that's very, very much into cnc just like I am (and y'all, he's a whole FOOT AND 2 INCHES taller than me, and has the biggest fucking cock I've ever seen. I'm not even lying - this man is going to rip my little, only-had-sex-with-one-person body to SHREDS). Once we both got a good vibe, we moved towards more kinky territory, talking about safe words, limits, and scenarios for when we eventually meet. He then asked me to send a single photo outside of my bedroom window, and promised he'd find me.

Intrigued, I sent it. I can see my city from my window. Beautiful, really.

But within 15 minutes, he sent me a live snap of my apartment building with the caption: Found you, princess. After losing my shit (in a good way), I confirmed it was my building, and he said he actually lives really close by.

I suspect you're in a corner apartment, 2nd or 3rd story, I'm not sure yet but I'll figure it out. I say nothing. I'm not giving any hints. I'm impressed by his perception at this point. But I am, in fact, on a corner on the 2nd story. How will you figure that out? I ask in innocent curiosity. All I get back is a 🤫 emoji.

And then, maybe 3 hours later, I get a random snap - a chat that simply says, I have a question, Isa. I told him to shoot, go ahead and ask!, and again, he simply asks:

Do you have a fan in your window?

I freak the fuck out (again, in a good way), and confirm that, um, yes... I enjoy the cold, and why do you ask?

About a second goes by, and he sends a live snap of MY 2ND STORY BEDROOM WINDOW with the caption, You can't see me, but I can see you.

How the FUCK this man was able to tell it was my window in a fully wrapped around 6 story apartment building, just by the angle of my one photo, was astounding. I was truly perplexed.

I then get another ding before I can truly wrap my brain around what was happening.

Turn your light off.

I do as I'm told.

I then receive a live video of my bedroom window, with the light shutting off.

I freak out a third time (y'all already know I'm soaking by now), but I realize I couldn't see him. There were 4 cars a little ways down the street, parked in the night. Any of them could've been him. None of them could've been him. I can't see you.. Is all I managed to type out through trembling fingers. It was so intense, and I was so turned on, I barely knew what I was saying at this point.

His response: Good. Let's keep it that way... For now.

Not long after as I'm continuing to try to look into any and every vehicle, I receive a live video. It's him stroking his massive cock in his car with the caption, You know what I want.

Y'all. When I say I about came undone, I MEAN IT. My heart is pounding, my pussy and inner thighs are both absolutely drenched. The moment is so thick with sexual tension, and I'm so entranced in it, I could've sworn I saw god at that point lmao.

But I continue looking out the window, my light still off so I can see into the night. But nothing. All is still. And finally, the car in the very front down the street slowly drives away.

About 5 minutes go by, and it feels like a lifetime, before I receive a chat: You're so close to me. I'll be watching. Waiting. Checking on you every time I go out. Stroking my cock outside your apartment until the day I can finally tear those holes apart.

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

Y'all, I... have been dreaming of living out a stalking scenario since I started becoming interested in sex as a teenager. I begged my ex, and while they were into cnc, it was never like this.

Never in my life did I ever imagine these scenarios to be so intense in real life. It's so damn different when it's really happening. Intense, I use that word a lot but there's legitimately no other way to explain it. Exhilarating, even. Psychologically it fucks with you, because you truly never know when they're looking at you. He could be outside right now as I'm typing this, stroking that huge cock, thinking about raping my holes, and I genuinely wouldn't know it. And it turns me on so, so much.

I absolutely cannot wait to see what else happens. 🫣

***DISCLAIMER: yes, I'm being safe!! I've told my roommate and another good friend all about him/the entire situation and the man was of course good with that as well. I'm very willing in this situation, and incredibly aware of any red flags that could arise, pls don't worry<3***

#repressedh0e's adventures #cnc cw #cnc kidnapping #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #rough cnc #cnc stalking #stalker #stalking fantasy #tw stalking #stalk me #cnc somno #rapedoll #rapekink #rapetoy #rough kink #r@pe k!nk #r@pe me #r@pe tw #r4p3 kink #r@petoy #r@pe kink #r@pe fantasy #rap3 fantasy #rap3 me #rap3doll #rap3toy #free use cnc #free use toy #free use kink

[redrose10]

Here is chapter 2! Chapter 3 will come out in a few days. Comments are appreciated and inbox is also open. Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word Count: 1,914

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

After getting home from signing the contract with Yoongi you started to worry that you had just thrown away the rest of your life to some man who couldn’t even look at you without turning his lips up in disgust which lead to a panic attack. Thankfully you were staying at Jimins and he was there to help you work through it reminding you that this was for the best and in the end it would all work out. You were hesitant but at this point there was no turning back anyways as you’d already signed your name. So you and Jimin decided to drown your sorrows in pizza and chocolate ice cream instead.

Waking up the next morning you felt like you got hit by a truck. Your body was sore and you could tell your face was swollen and raw from all of the crying. Wanting nothing more than to just stay in bed wrapped up in all the blankets, you purposely ignored the insistent knocking coming from the front door. When you realized that this person was not going to go away you got up throwing on an old sweatshirt and made your way to answer it. When you swung it open ready to snap at whoever couldn’t take the hint you were greeted with the same smell from the day before. Cinnamon and vanilla. Unfortunately the man standing infront of you did not match the same warm and comforting scent that he presented. He looked you up and down with one eyebrow raised, “So that’s what you decided to wear on our first date? I knew you weren’t much of a fashionista but I expected for you to at least have pants on.” Welcoming him in before shaking your head, “What date?” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose clearly irritated. “I texted you last night letting you know that my parents set up a reservation for us to have lunch and get to know each other. I had assumed you got the message or is reading not something you’ve mastered yet?” You bit your lip trying to stop it from shaking so you could hold back the tears threatening to spill. You didn’t understand why he had to be so mean to you. Yes this wasn’t ideal but you were willing to try and make it work or at the very least act civil. Why couldn’t he? It’s was all for his benefit anyways.

Yoongi noticed your tears and suddenly had a strange feeling course through his body. Was it guilt, regret, sadness? Either way he didn’t like it. No way was he going to let you chip away at his walls he worked so hard to put up. “Hurry up and change Y/N. I’m not going to be seen in public with you dressed like that.”, he said with a flick of his wrist shooing you away.

You quickly wiped away at the tears that were breaking through the dam as you made your way back to the spare bedroom. Digging through your clothes you knew you had nothing that would be up to Yoongi’s standards so you decided on a dark red sweater dress paired with black tights and black boots as it was starting to finally cool down in the city. You threw on some light make up and put your hair in a quick messy bun using a ribbon to tie a bow to add a simple accent. Grabbing your purse you took one final look in the mirror. You chuckled to yourself at your appearance and braced yourself for whatever snarky remark Yoongi was going to make about you.

Walking out to the living room you found him sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. You put on your best neutral face before making your presence known and announcing you were ready. Yoongi’s head lifted up and looked you up and down. You waited for his remark but he said nothing. Instead pushing past you to the front door holding it open and gesturing for you to lead the way.

The drive to the restaurant was surprisingly not as awkward as you had imagined. The restaurant, unsurprisingly, was extravagant and luxurious. The host sat the two of you at a private table towards the back corner and handed each of you a menu. Yoongi ordered the most expensive steak they had and paired it with a glass of whiskey. You on the other hand decided to go a more simple route and went with a chicken dish and a lemonade.

Yoongi sat looking at his phone, answering the occasional text message or email but ignoring your presence entirely.

“I thought your parents said we were supposed to get to know each other.”, you asked almost playfully.

You watched him roll his eyes at your statement but he put down his phone and gestured for you to continue.

Honestly you weren’t expecting that reaction so you didn’t know where to begin.

“Umm okay. What is your favorite color?”

He chuckled, “Don’t have one. I’m not a child.”

Alright, this will we harder than you thought. “What is your favorite thing to drink?”

He simply raises his glass of whiskey towards you and you nod while internally scolding yourself for such a stupid question.

You continue, “Do you have any hobbies or interests?”

“Well I like making and spending money, drinking whiskey, and women.”

Nodding your head in acceptance you’re pretty stumped on how to proceed at this point. “Anything you’d like to ask me?”, you questioned. “Nope.”, he said before taking a sip of his whiskey and returning back to his phone.

Thankfully the waiter returned placing your meals in front of you and the rest of the meal was spent in silence. You offered to pay for your lunch but Yoongi waved you off handing his card to the waiter. The ride back to Jimins was also silent and somehow more awkward than earlier and you couldn’t wait to get out of his car. The car had barely come to a stop before you were grabbing your belongings and reaching for the door handle.

“Thank you for lunch. It was very nice.”, you tried to be positive. He gave you a nod before turning his eyes back to the road. Just before you shut the door you heard your name whispered so you turned around and Yoongi was staring at you. “My assistant will contact you within the next week to set up a day for you to go over your selections for the wedding. Money is not an issue so you can pick whatever you want.”

You gave a small smile and shut the door watching as he sped off like he couldn’t get away from you quick enough.

The following day the announcement was made that Yoongi was set to be married. Social media sites were a mess trying to find out any information they could about the lucky woman that stole the heart of one of the worlds most eligible bachelors. Somehow they were able to find out most of your life story and plastered it all over their websites much to your dismay. It seemed like everything was working according to the plan. Most articles painted Yoongi to be the good hearted CEO that was turning his life around after falling in love with the a sweet foreigner who grew up as an orphan and was now set to marry a billionaire. One article even called you ‘A Real Life Cinderella’ which made you double over in laughter. If they only knew how your future husband was the farthest thing from a prince charming. You tossed your phone on the bed not wanting to read any more.

Just as he had said would happen Yoongi’s assistant contacted you about the wedding and that set off a whirlwind of events. The next two weeks were spent planning a wedding that you were trying your hardest to be excited for. Yoongi of course wanted no part of it so everything was on you. You left what you could up to the wedding planner. It didn’t even really feel like your wedding at this point so you didn’t feel the need to be apart of every decision anyways. Your only request being that the wedding flowers be Blue Hydrangeas which thankfully fit in with the theme that was planned.

The day of your wedding you slipped into the gown that was chosen for you. A beautiful one of a kind Valentino gown. The silhouette fit you perfectly with a train that was just long enough to be dramatic but not obnoxious. The lace detail along with the beading must’ve taken hours. The very low cut back made you feel beautiful and sexy. You’re sure the Mins had to pay extra to have it made in such short notice.

Hearing the door click shut you smiled when you turned around and saw Jimin walking over arms out ready to embrace you in a hug. “Wow Y/N, you look beautiful.” “Thank you Jimin. I guess a dress that costs more than a car can make anyone look good.”

He playfully shoved your shoulder. “Oh before I forget, Yoongi wanted me to give this to you.” Reaching for the black velvet box you gasped looking down at the two diamond earrings staring back at you. “Wow your man has good taste.”, Jimin chuckled. You softly scoffed to yourself while adding the earrings to your look. You figured Yoongi probably just had his assistant go out and buy the most expensive pair he could find. No way did Min Yoongi put thought and effort into a gift like this.

Standing behind the large double doors staring down at the bouquet in your hand you started questioning everything. You always believed in true love. Ever since you were a little girl you would imagine your own wedding. Never did you think you’d be in an arranged marriage and to someone who despises you so deeply.

Feeling someone squeeze your hand you looked up and saw Jimin giving you a comforting smile. You were thankful that he was there to walk you down the aisle. The music started as the double doors were swung open giving everyone the first look at the bride. Taking a deep breath you slowly walked down the aisle too afraid to make eye contact with Yoongi. You feared that if you saw him look down at you that you would just lose it and ruin your very expensive and time consuming makeup with tears.

Once at the alter you gave Jimin a kiss on the cheek and watched him walk off to his designated spot. Unfortunately, you could no longer avoid looking at Yoongi. But when you looked up it was worse than you could’ve imagined. Instead of looking down at you with disgust he wasn’t even looking at you at all. His eyes were fixated off to the side at something or someone in the audience. Following his direction you saw the cause of this distraction. A young beautiful blond woman wearing a dress that you would consider more appropriate for a club than a wedding. She was shyly giving him a discreet wave. Softly you whispered in shock to yourself getting the attention of your future husband who now looked back at you noticing the tears threatening to spill from your eyes and for some reason he almost felt guilty. Almost.

#bts #bts fanfic #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #arranged marriage au #ceo au #suga #bts yoongi

[strlingsav]

I can't get enough of Drive! Could I request a third part that has more of the D/s themes or maybe some car sex?

Thank you!

Why not both?!!

Drive: Three

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your relationship with Ghost surpassed a means of sexual gratification and was quickly heading toward something more. You were deep in uncharted territory; no longer strictly physical- it was becoming clear that you felt more, wanted more. He'd continued to come to your door- some nights in which you never even touched each other.

The strict rules you'd taken an oath to follow and obey had become blurred when it came to Ghost, and your feelings for each other. It wasn't black and white anymore, and it scared you, as much as it excited you.

No matter how well you kept yourself together, you still worried you'd wind up revealing something. Whether it would be a small slip-up, or perhaps after your leave from service, it would get out. That should've been reason enough to end it, to tell him you didn't want to see him again, but it wasn't.

Though there were feelings brewing in your gut, you managed to keep it under control. Your demeanour around him hadn't changed, even if you could feel your heartbeat in your throat every time you saw him.

The same couldn't be said for Ghost. Although he could hide his emotions and expressions behind the mask, and had never been one for showing much affection to begin with, that didn't mean he wasn't brazenly overbearing, protective, and dangerously close to revealing your affair.

The threat of severe punishment didn't seem to discourage him, in fact, his outward displays of favouritism became more noticeable.

Ghost, with his possessive and domineering nature, kept his eyes on you. He'd make it a point to ask for your whereabouts. Status updates, check-ins; it caught the attention of your squadmates multiple times, and when Captain Price was involved, you were overly-cautious and paranoid.

Yourself and Soap had finished the clearing of a large warehouse on the outskirts of a mostly-abandoned town. It was a simple task, delegated to the two of you, enough to handle without reinforcements. Though your target had already caught wind of military presence, and wound up leaving site before you arrived.

Ghost and Price had been contacted for exfil not long after you realized your contact was gone, and awaited your arrival at the front of the warehouse.

Your name rang through your radio, static enveloping the sound waves. It was your Lieutenant.

"What's your status?" Ghost's voice was recognizable, though distorted, through the comms.

Soap's gaze lifted to yours as he crouched beneath a fallen support-beam, eyebrows raised. It wasn't the first instance of Ghost's intervention, and though it may have been innocent enough, paranoia crept up and sat at the front of your mind.

"Everything's good here," You radio'd back, your eyes glued to the exit door at the end of the warehouse. "Heading out now. Over."

"Exfil's waitin'. Out."

You checked over your shoulder, watching Soap fall in line beside you as you neared the exit. You gave a clear nod as he opened the door, your head snapping up to surveil the area.

Your eyes landed on the two vehicles parked in front of the warehouse- Ghost leaned up against the car door. Price was seated in the driver's side of the other vehicle, gesturing for the two of you to get in.

You headed toward Price's SUV, pulling open the rear door while Soap climbed in the passenger side.

"You're with me," Ghost called, catching your attention before you could lift a leg up.

Neither your Captain nor Soap seemed disturbed by this order, so you nodded, slamming the door shut before leaving two harsh slaps on the bumper.

Price pulled away, leaving you to saunter over to Ghost, who stared at the back of the SUV as it slowly disappeared over the hill.

"Get in," He said, opening the door.

You gave another short nod before ambling over to climb into the passenger seat. Ghost's eyes were glued to you as you sat down and while wrapping the seatbelt across your chest. You slung your rifle between your thighs, leaning back with a sigh.

Once he started on, he peered over at you with a scrutinizing glare. His eyes were drawn to the scratch across your neck, puffy and red, courtesy of a jagged piece of metal you'd run into.

"You hurt?" He asked.

"No," You shook your head, letting your eyes land on his. "Just a scratch."

He nodded. "Should've been in there," He muttered. "Johnny's gotten sloppy."

You sucked in a deep breath.

It was difficult to start a conversation about your feelings with someone that didn't truly owe you anything. Not loyalty, nor understanding. But the other part of you wanted to be able to do your job without interference.

"You're gonna get us caught," You blurted, your head lulling to the side as you stared at him.

His eyes were glued to the road. He was quiet for a few moments, unsure how to respond. Did you not like spending time around him? Was this your way of ending whatever fucked-up relationship was going on?

"What's that mean?" He asked, knuckles white, fingers gripping the wheel as he awaited your response.

"It means you're paying a bit too much attention to me."

"Y'don't like my attention now?" He was a bit amused, only able to conjure up images of you begging for him when he had you pinned beneath him on your mattress.

"I do," Your eyes surveyed the emotionless cover of his mask. "But the squad's starting to notice. Soap is taking notice."

He hummed quietly, ruminating on your words. His hand landed on your thigh, a rough squeeze as he watched the road.

"Could give a fuck what Johnny sees."

"I give a fuck," You shot back, venom in your tone. "You'd be discharged. I'd be discharged. Probably worse, too."

The car came to a screeching halt, clouds of dust enveloping the vehicle beneath hot callipers and locked tires. Your hands reached the dashboard as you steadied yourself, ready to scold Ghost for his driving.

His eyes pored into yours the second you turned your head.

"I'd fuck you right in front of him, and he wouldn't do fuck-all about it."

He studied your eyes a bit closer, watching you swallow at the imagery he created. You desperately wanted to have a serious conversation- one that made Ghost understand the importance of subtly, but he'd managed to change course and cause a fluttering in your stomach.

"He would," You raised your brows, challenging his hypothetical situation.

"He'd ask to join- 'at's about it."

You cracked a small smile, never able to hold your sour demeanour for long when it came to Ghost and his sense of humour.

"Would you let him?" You teased, watching his head fall sideways as he examined you.

"I'd sooner shoot him than let him have you."

You laughed, letting your hand fall to his arm. Your thumb rubbed over the thick cotton of his button-up, before you met his eyes again.

"What if I wanted him to have me?" Your chin lifted as you stared him down.

He closed in on you, the grip on your thigh tightening.

"Too fuckin' bad."

Your lip tucked under your teeth as your eyes drifted between his. He was growing hard beneath his fatigues, just watching your swollen lips and pretty eyes as you batted your lashes at him. He knew you appreciated his abrupt and intimidating personality- you complemented him well with your relentless teasing and painfully arousing tendency to submit to him.

Your instigating was gratifying, especially as his chest rose and fell furiously, unable to shake the image from his head of Johnny inside you. You liked cracking the cool demeanour he worked so hard to keep. He didn't enjoy it nearly as much, but he'd enjoy showing you exactly why you obeyed his every word.

"I've heard he's pretty good with-"

"Get your arse in the backseat."

You didn't waste another moment, sliding into the back row. You stripped out of your jacket and pants, leaving your vest and rifle in the front seat as Ghost climbed in beside you, slamming the door behind him.

He settled on the leather seat, creaking under his movements, hands resting on his thighs as you moved in toward his body. He guided you onto his lap with ease, his hands taking your waist as he pulled you against his chest.

His mask lifted to his nose, only moments going by before his lips engulfed yours in a gentle, slow kiss. His hand snaked up your side, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. There, he could control your movements, have you exposed in whatever way he wanted.

He could tell you liked when he took his time- the sensual kisses, his tongue against yours in a lazy motion, but he knew you loved his hand pulling your hair, his groin hard against yours.

You moaned quietly into his mouth, your hips moving forward subconsciously in an attempt to have him closer. His fingers had latched onto whatever part of you they could; your waist, your hips, your ass.

He trailed down your neck, kissing the fresh wound across your skin with delicacy. The gentleness only made the heat sloshing in your gut turn to a searing temperature.

His lips were warm against you, goosebumps rising to the top of your skin as he neared your collarbones. Your head fell back in response, and his lips traced back to the curve of your jaw.

Your hands pressed against the headrest behind him, caught off-guard by the gentleness with which he handled you. His eyes dropped to the sight of your breasts, squished against the hard armour of his fatigues.

His eyes fell lower, your waist, hips, the flesh of your ass he wanted to sink his teeth into. It was overwhelming, how addictive the curves of your body were- the things he'd do to keep you all to himself. It didn't come as a surprise, only that he was willing to risk everything just to touch you.

His arm gathered around your waist, keeping you flush with the warmth of his body, while his hand slid between you, finding the pure heat emanating off your groin. You were wet already, that much he could feel, and the beads of sweat dotting your forehead and chest further confirmed your arousal.

You whimpered softly when his palm made contact with your pussy.

"You like it when I touch you?" He asked suddenly, his voice echoing off the interior.

You stared at him blankly- there was only an obvious answer, "Yes." You tried to stop your brows from furrowing with confusion.

He found your clit, pulsating and puffy with blood flow, rubbing tight circles with his fingers. Your head fell back, a low moan rumbling from your chest. His lips reattached to your neck, teeth nibbling at your exposed skin.

"Fuck, yes," You sighed.

"Tell me who makes your pussy this wet." The rumble of his voice vibrated against your chest.

You paused your focus on his fingers, meeting his gaze with lidded eyes and parted lips.

"You," You replied, soft lips parting with another moan. "You make me so wet."

His fingertips slowly slid inside you, met with a gush of silky juices and soft walls that stretched around his fingers. Your eyes shut, a shiver in your body making him smile with satisfaction.

"Say it again," He ordered. "So we're clear."

Your lips pressed together, suppressing a heavy moan as he moved between your clit and your entrance. He created a heat between your thighs, a friction you knew all too well was the beginning of your climax. It only drove you to say exactly what he wanted, to let him do whatever he wanted.

Your sighs had turned to whines, before you squeaked out, "You, Sir," Another soft moan left your lips. "Shit- you make me wet."

Sir. It made his cock twitch every time he heard your voice call him that. Every time your irresistibly supple and inviting lips said it.

His hips mindlessly jumped up into you, desperate to ease his own yearning. "Know you like when I fuck you with my fingers. Play with you however I fuckin' like."

"Please," You whispered, choked and strained while fighting for your orgasm.

He liked your answers, always did. It caused a grumble of appreciation to leave his chest.

Your eyes clamped shut, fingers moving to grip his shoulders. Your own hips were moving forward on his fingers, grinding against his wrist and hand. It wasn't long before your head fell back, a deep shudder overcoming you as you climaxed.

Your body weakened against him, falling forward to his grasp. He wasn't finished, however. Not yet- not ever.

He lifted his gear over his head, his jacket unbuttoned and thrown over the driver's seat before he pinned you to the cool leather of the back seat.

Your thighs hooked around his hips as he hovered over you, your arms thrown over his shoulders. He unzipped his fatigues, yanking your panties aside as he plunged his cock in you without warning.

Your chest arched into his, head falling back against the seat as he filled you- inch by inch, he pushed all the way inside you before drawing back. His hands were planted on either side your head, watching your lips part with breathy gasps and desperate moans.

"Fuckin' hell," He groaned. "Pussy was made just for my cock, sweetheart," He leaned down, close, close enough to feel your deep breaths against his neck.

The windows had begun to fog up, though they were tinted, he was sure any bystanders would know exactly what was going on- and he liked it that way.

"You get off on makin' me jealous?" He asked, dipping to your ear as his hips rounded.

"N-no," You stuttered, finding difficulty catching your breath with lack of oxygen and how deep he was inside you. "No, Sir."

He groaned, resisting the urge to completely let go and fuck you, relentlessly.

"Good- you know Johnny ain't half as good as me- at anythin'," He growled.

You could feel the head of his cock teasing your cervix, and every thrust met your clit with enough pressure to make your legs tremble around his waist.

"He isn't," You agreed, eyes watery and your lips frozen in a gasp. "So good," You whispered, your eyes shutting for a fleeting moment.

"This cunt is mine, you're mine," He grunted in your ear, soft and quiet, but you heard; every rasp and deep breath as it passed his lips and tickled your neck. "And I'll do whatever I fuckin' please when it comes to you, sweetheart."

Goosebumps erupted over your flesh, your hands clinging to his shoulders as he drove in and out of your pussy. His eyes hadn't left yours, watching you take his cock, at the mercy of his body.

"Yes- shit, yes," You groaned.

"You always take it like a good fuckin' girl," He grunted again. "You like bein' a good girl for me?"

Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head- it was almost too much; his thickness stretching you out, reaching the depths inside you, his pelvis grinding against your clit.

"Yes," You swallowed, hard, your voice reduced to brief whines. "Oh my god," You slurred. "I'm your good girl," You whispered, his chest against yours compressing your lungs.

You were breathless, stuck in a fog of pleasure and absolute mindlessness. He was more than right, you enjoyed every bit of what he had to offer.

He wrapped an arm beneath your head, holding you closer to him as he ground his hips into yours, forcing you to stay still in your position and do nothing but take his cock.

"Fuck me," He groaned, listening to the sounds of your wetness as he slid in and out of you, feeling your warm, slick walls envelope him with ease once he'd opened you up. "Y'want Johnny now?" He breathed, his lips beside your ear as he pounded into you, your body stationary in his grip.

"No," You choked, wrapped in his arms, pressed tightly against him, your mind unable to focus with his cock drilling into you. "No- just you, only you. God- I only want you," Your voice had turned to a whine amidst gasps for air.

He reached a hand between the small parting of your bodies, circling your clit with a relentless pace.

You didn't have the mind to keep composure, not as he urged you to your climax at a rapid pace, still keeping his stamina. You could only shake your head, lip quivering as you bit down.

"Yeah, sweetheart," He grumbled, feeling your pussy contract around his cock. "That's it- cum on my cock."

Your body went rigid, a long-winded gasp leaving your lips, stretching out as your orgasm tugged you under waves of pleasure.

"Shit," You squeaked, opening your eyes again, finally, to watch him shake his head with disbelief.

"Keep squeezin' my cock," He grunted, "'m cummin' in this pussy."

You nodded, shivering with pleasure at every plateau as you came down from your high. He didn't take long after you to press his pelvis against yours, bury himself deep inside you as he climaxed. He was flush with your body, exhaling softly as he regained his stamina, and you couldn't help but shift beneath him.

He lifted himself up off your body, still encasing you with his giant arms, but fondness in his eyes made you realize he just wanted to be close, to feel you, smell you.

"Can't help it," He said suddenly, his eyes shifting from your neck to your gaze. "Never been worried before. Not like this."

Your expression softened once you realized what he was referring to; his words wrapped around your heart and squeezed softly. You bit back a smile.

"I want you to care," Your hands lifted to caress his shoulders. "Just not so frequently. Or publicly."

You grinned, pressing your lips to his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut, only opening when you laid back against the leather seat.

"Alright," He grumbled. "Just don't go gettin' yourself killed."

"I always do my best."

He hummed, dissatisfied with your answer, but nodded anyway. Truthfully, he didn't care whether seeing you meant he could lose everything. So long as he didn't lose you.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley smut #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you #call of duty #ghost #simon ghost riley #drive series

[justauthoring]

redamancy [2/3]

*redamancy: the act of loving in return.

a/n: guess what olivia’s updating a year laterrrrrrr

word count: 2,878

warnings: honestly, this is basically yandere bakugou... heavy dubious content, implied sexual content, restraints, violence towards reader, bakugou is mean :(, villain!bakugou

part one!

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You wake with a headache.

Your vision is blurred, the sudden bright light you find yourself faced with makes the headache worse as you try to adjust. First instinct is to sit up, a groan leaving your lips as you do, only then noticing just how soft whatever you’re on is. Your body sinks into it with every movement, and part of you doesn’t even want to get up.

Besides the headache, you’re not sure you’ve ever been this comfortable.

I didn’t want it to be this way.

But then you remember and everything snaps with a start.

You sit up straight, eyes cracking open with a gasp of fear as a flash of Bakugou flickers into your mind and you’re reminded of what had happened. Of how you’d seen Bakugou for the first time in years, how he’d apparently been waiting for you for all those years, and most importantly how he’d knocked you out and basically kidnapped you.

With a quick glance around, you realize you must be in his bedroom. It was painfully plain in decoration but completely clean; not a single thing misplaced or a spec to be seen. The sight almost brings a smile to your lips, remembering how you used to tease him back in your Academy days how he refused to ever leave his room a mess. It brings you back to simpler times, a wishful memory that you wish you could slip into if anything just to escape from this.

From what’s happened.

Shoto. That’s right. You’d tried to call him right before Bakugou slipped the clothe over your mouth. A quick glance around you tells you your phone isn’t anywhere near you, and it isn’t in your robe that you’d been left in.

Of course he wouldn’t leave your phone with you.

It probably wouldn’t work either—he’d smashed it right before you’d fallen unconscious.

Slipping your legs over, there’s an odd weight attached to your ankle, something black crossing your vision briefly before you blink, focusing on your left ankle. 

“What the—!”

Reaching forward, your eyes practically bulge out of your head at the large, clunky cuff around your ankle. It swallows it completely, and having worked in the hero industry for a few years now, you knew exactly what that cuff meant. Quirk-cancelling. Clearly, Bakugou didn’t trust you not to not try and escape (which, to his defense, you obviously would) and had taken the necessary precautions to eliminate that risk.

The same thing you’ve done with villains plenty of times.

Bending your knee, you pull your ankle towards you, pushing your fingers against the cuff and in between your leg, despite how it strains uncomfortably, trying to use what strength you had to pry the cuff off. It was useless, and of course you knew that—they were designed to not be able to be broken off so easily.

(Given that it would be a huge product malfunction if the villains you caught could easily just... break through them.)

“Asshole,” you hiss under your breath. It wasn’t just the fact that this meant your chances of escaping (which were already limited) were ten times harder, but the fact that this left you (also) ten times more vulnerable.

There had been a point in your life, depsite his loud and rash behaviour, you’d been certain Bakugou would never hurt you. Even when he yelled and got angry, he never got angry at you. Maybe it was the soulmate thing, or maybe it was more, you weren’t sure. You’d just known that no matter what, Bakugou would never hurt you.

And up until now, you’ve never doubted that.

But now?

Now you weren’t sure.

You haven’t seen Bakugou in three years, and the weeks before his disappearance had been weird and strained.

You had no idea who Bakugou was now, and with the ever-present factor that he was a villain? Well, that left you even more unsure. Not to mention, he’d kidnapped you! Put quirk-cancelling cuffs on you so you wouldn’t be able to fight back...

It was a sense of vulnerability you’ve not experienced. Even if you’d known Bakugou was stronger, you’ve faced strong villains before and came out the other side—why? Because you had your quirk. Because you were a hero. 

Now... Now you were no different than the civilians that fell prey to evil villains.

Letting out a light curse, you let your leg fall, taking in what you’re wearing. With a fearful swallow, you realize it isn’t what you’d been wearing when Bakugou had taken you. The silk robe you’d covered yourself in was gone and the cute pajama set of shorts and button up is replaced by a thin nightgown. The whole dress is held up by thin straps, that purposefully hang low, and the dress ends short, reaching just below your bum.

It wasn’t like before everything Bakugou hadn’t seen you. Hadn’t been with you. You both were young and inexperienced, but you’d once dressed yourself up in clothes just like this for him because you’d known he’d liked the sight.

Three years of being apart that and the fact that he’s a villain leaves you more than uncomfortable in such vulnerable clothing.

Not to mention he must’ve undressed you himself and put this on—an extreme invasion of privacy and a purposeful act to have you wearing something demure and delicant... all for him.

The sound of a door slamming shut pulls you from your thoughts and you leap to your feet, fear racing through your entire body. Your eyes snap towards the door to the bedroom door, hearing footsteps grow closer and closer. It was no doubt Bakugou. For all the information you had managed to gather on him, you knew he was working solo.

Bakugou wasn’t the type to take help from others. Being a villain didn’t change that.

As the footsteps grow closer, you’re hit with a sudden realization—where can you hide?

Your eyes snap around the room, peeling for any sort of hiding spot or escape, but you come up empty. It seems Bakugou very meticulously thought out your capture. There was a closet but the doors had been taken off, and the only other piece of furniture you could hide in was the bed, but that wouldn’t get your very far.

You opt for placing yourself as far away from the door as possible, curled into the corner with the lamp you’d found on the nightstand held protectively before you.

A second later, the door is opening.

Bakugou’s head peers in first, eyes glancing from corner to corner until they settle on your own. You force back the whimper that threatens to escape. No. You had to be strong.

As strong as you could be.

He steps into the room, letting the door shut behind him and you don’t miss the way his fingers work quick to lock the door behind him. (Shit.) The second the lock clicks, his eyes fall on back on you, smirking.

“You do realize that won’t do much, right?” He asks, hand loosely gesturing towards the lamp in your hands. Your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re holding it, but your hands also violently shake, flinching when he even just takes a step towards you. “I’m the world’s strongest villain and you think a lamp is gonna hurt?”

It hurts the way he sounds so proud.

“Ba-Bakugou—!”

He’s in front of you in a flash. You blink and he’s there, imposing and intimidating, simply pulling the lamp from your hands and setting it down beside him all without looking away or giving you any space. 

He’s closer than he’s been in years (or, at least, since he kidnapped you—) and it physically hurts. Your heart still yearns for him and your body reacts without your consent, aching for him and his touch despite how much you want to pull away.

Despite how much your mind screams at you not to.

His hand reaches forward, and you flinch, but then he’s grabbing you by the chin and tilting your gaze up to his.

“Katsuki.” He whispers, voice husky. “That’s my name.”

You shake your head still in his grasp.

He leans close, and Bakugou’s always been naturally warm so you feel it envelope you like a hug. Your body reacts, shivers running down your back, feeling exposed and practically naked as he presses his lips to the edge of your jaw.

“Katsuki,” he repeats, voice a mere murmur. “Say it.”

You let out a dejected whine; “...no.”

His free hand falls on you, grasping at your waist, eliciting a gasp from your lips as your entire body tightens, tensing underneath his familiar touch.

“Say it.” He growls, voice harsher than it had been before.

You want to give in. Your heart and your body and you ache for him... You have for three years. Dreamt about him, thought about him... wanted him. He was your soulmate, your other half—the one you were intended to spend the rest of your life with.

But—but...

“They say he killed... just under twenty civilians in his last raid. Brutally murdered them. Some of the bodies are still beind identified. Y/N... Bakugou isn’t who you think he is anymore.”

“—no!” 

The element of surprise allows you to successfull shove Bakugou off of you, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath, a wild, panicked look in your eyes as you stare back at him. To your credit, he looks shocked even if briefly, before his faze hardens.

He moves towards you, “Y/N—”

But you step away, almost tripping over your own feet as you push yourself off the wall and try to create more distance between the both of you.

“No,” you repeat, desperate. “No... You kidnapped me! Put a quirk-cancelling cuff on me...” Feeling your eyes water, you find your grip on your strength wavering as all of it comes rushing to you, making you feel sick, making you feel like you can’t breathe. “You’ve killed and hurt so many people! Countless of innocents. You... You left me!”

“Y/N—!”

“I hate you!”

That gets him to stop. He halts, suddenly, body turning rigid and you blink, not realizing until a second later just what you said.

There’s a brief moment of complete silence. Neither of you say or do anything, just meeting each other’s gaze from across the room, your words hanging tensely in the air.

And then your feet move before you even realize, body turning sharply as you practically leap towards the door, hands reaching for the lock to the try to get the door open. Hands wrap around you just as the tips of your fingers reach the doorknob, a cry leaving your lips as you’re tugged back, lifted off your feet and then you’re thrown, weightless in the air before your back hits the bed, body bouncing in response.

You don’t have time to get up because Bakugou is faster.

It’s a wrestle of strength that you have no hope of winning as Bakugou grabs both of your wrists, pulling them up and over your head before pressing them against the bed. You can’t see what he’s doing, his chest in front of your face while his legs keep you pinned to the bed and then there’s something cold wrapping around both of your wrists and the distinct sound of something clicking echoes into the silence.

Bakugou pulls back but continues to straddle you, as you glance up, tugging on your arms when you realize he’s cuffed your wrists to the headboard of the bed.

“Wha—!”

Your chin is grabbed, head yanked until you’re facing Bakugou once again who leans over you. 

“You can’t hate me,” he hisses, and you try to ignore the fear at the sound of his barely concealed threat. “I’m your soulmate.”

“Ba—... Katsuki,” you whisper, afraid. Terrified, even. “I... please, don’t do this.”

“This is your fault,” he huffs, letting go of your face. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt twice but you’ve forced my hand. This is your life now. You’re mine... so you better get used to it.”

You inhale sharply. “I wanted to be with you! Don’t you understand that!”

Bakugou blinks, lips parting. 

“I was ready to give up everything for you! You left!” You’re inconsolable. Terrified, sobs wretching from your as you lay beneath Bakugou, restrained and helpless. “I searched for you everyday for the past three years! But you never let me find you... I wanted—I want to be with you but you’ve... hurt so many people.”

Bakugou leans forward again, but this time he’s gentle. His hands cup your cheeks, touch light as he shakes his head. “I did it all for you...” He whispers, eyes pleading for you to understand. “I did it so we could be together.”

You swallow thickly, shaking. “We were together...”

“You don’t understand,” he begs. “That... Deku... all of them! They wanted to keep us apart...”

Eyes widening, you pause.

“That’s what I was fighting with Deku about that day when I left... He wanted to keep us apart... said that he and shitty-hair and icy-hot—all of them would never let me be near you again.” He’s caressing your cheek, brushing back hair that had fallen in your face in the midst of everything. “So I had to leave... I didn’t want to leave you but I had to get stronger... So that one day we could be together and no one could keep us apart.”

Your lips part, trying to find your voice. That... That doesn’t make sense.

“But they... Why would they?”

“Have they left your side since that day?” Bakugou asks, shaking his head. “Have they surrounded you? I’ve seen you... with them. Together. All the time...”

“But... But it was never like tha—“

“Here. I’ll walk you home. It’s not safe for you alone out at night and I wouldn’t be much a man if I let such a pretty lady like you walk home alone.”

“Y/N-chan! Let’s have lunch together, my treat.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it for you, okay? You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

But...But—

All the touches, all the smiles and the help and...

Oh... Oh God...

Blinking, you turn to Bakguou. He’s watching you, closely, eyes never faltering, watching as the realization sinks in.

“But the... don’t they have a soul—“

“It’s just us, baby,” Bakugou whispers, voice gentle, warm. “Have you ever seen a name on them? Anywhere?”

You pause, thinking. And the answer comes quick. No.

You shake your head.

“You and me are special,” he explains, and you instinctively lean into his touch, unaware. “We’re made for each other. The only two in the whole world, you see? Just you and me. You’re mine and they tried to take you from me.”

“I...” Your voice fades, confused and baffled. 

But Bakugou’s never lied to you before and you don’t think just being a villain changes that... And he was right. Izuku, Shoto and Kirishima have hardly left you alone in the past three years, one of them was always by your side. Sometimes it was just to talk or help or do things for you... You’d always thought it was just friendly, but when you really thought about it...

It couldn’t be, could it?

That was... those were things Bakugou had done for you. Thing you’d wanted him to do for you.

“I didn’t know.”

Bakugou shushes, brushing away the tears you barely realized where still falling. “It’s okay,” he soothes, “you couldn’t have. They made you confused and tried to take you from me. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you but I had to get stronger, you see, so I can protect you. Protect us.”

You meet his eyes and you realize the look in his eyes is the looking you’ve been yearning for for the past three years.

None of what Izuku, Shoto and Kirishima did for you had mattered because they weren’t Bakugou. They weren’t who you wanted. They weren’t your soulmate.

You nod, smiling a little. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice shaking slightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he eases away your worries. 

You nudge at his hand, trying to lean up towards him. “I missed you so much, Katsuki...” You whisper, voice a whine. “I wanted you so bad... I missed your touch and your warmth and the way you made me feel...”

Bakugou oblidges, leaning towards you. “Me too, baby. So much.”

You instinctively move to touch him, only to be held back. “Ugh... Katsuki, I want to touch you.”

His hands move to your waist, keeping you pinned to the spot. “Not yet, baby. Your mind is still a jumbled mess. I’ll let you go but I have to make sure, okay?” You whine, moving to shake your hand but his grip pinches and your eyes fly to his, seeing the hardened look in his eyes.

Slowly, you nod; “okay...”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, Katsuki,” you smile, “but... but please... I need you.”

And he smiles, wide and grinning, and you’re too dazed to notice the sinister look in his eyes as he laughs lightly; “oh, don’t worry, I plan to, baby.”

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugou katsuki

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 6,118 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, fluff, swearing, loneliness, family issues, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of inappropriate and abusive relationships from reader’s past (nothing detailed), mentions of relationships with an inappropriate age gap (adult men dating reader when she was still a teenager—nothing detailed), brief mentions of imprisonment, crying. i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry to say not all updates will be this quick 🫠 this is only ready now because i had already written a good chunk of it when i wrote part one. creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

“How’d it go?” Martha pulled herself up to get a better look at you, hands on the inner edge of the service desk.

She probably thought with how much time had passed, that things went well. That you spent time with Eddie while he worked, talking when he wasn’t too focused on something else. Maybe you went out to eat and caught up—surely that was why you were returning now when you had left to see him around late morning. It definitely wasn’t because you drove off after he snapped at you and didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. A prank? Why would it have been a prank?

It certainly hadn’t been so long because you couldn’t stand the idea of facing her with tears in your eyes and a waver to your voice. Surely, you hadn’t been crying and chastising yourself in your car in some random parking lot until you felt you could be seen in the outside world again. There was no way you were showing up now because when you were on your way to get more greasy food, your car sputtered to a halt because you’re an idiot who had the engine running the entire time you were in that parking lot.

She imagined your afternoon spent with Eddie—not a few strangers who helped you push your car to the nearest gas station (which was thankfully rather close, your only bout of luck thus far). You didn’t need to stop to cry a second time in one day (this time with the car off) just so you could get it out of your system before going into the market on your way back. And by that point it wasn’t even about Eddie. Okay, maybe a little bit, but mostly just because you were so overwhelmed by how everything was going wrong.

She was sure during all that time that you had successfully reunited with your long lost friend. But then as you trudged over, you pointed to your temple.

“Always better up here, right?” you murmured, voice tired and your eyes still somewhat raw.

“Oh, dear…,” she sighed, reaching to pat your hands that were now settled on the ledge where guests were greeted.

“I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it…,” you admit, and she gives your hands a small squeeze. She can’t help but notice the scent of salt and grease—you definitely had a bag with cheeseburgers and fries waiting for you, probably settled on the floor beside your feet so you weren’t leaving oily stains on her countertop.

Maybe it was ridiculous to be so upset. Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid emotions that you should be able to control by now. Maybe it was because you let yourself get caught up in your hopes more than you thought and now you were left not just disappointed, but humiliated too.

“Oh, I got you this,” you continue after what you hoped was a forgettable dab to the corner of your eye with the knuckle of your right thumb. You pull your purse to the side to grab a small brown paper bag—one that didn’t have stains collecting on the bottom. “They didn’t have tuna, but I know you said you like turkey better than ham so…”

“You don’t need to keep bringing me food,” she reassured you with a sweet smile, as if it didn’t make her day whenever you did. She wasn’t used to such a kind young girl being around—someone who thought to get her something to eat or listened to her stories with all the respect and attentiveness that makes a person feel like they matter.

“It’s rude to show up with food for myself and not for you,” you argued gently while offering her a weak, closed mouth smile.

“You still don’t have to, though… Why don’t you go lie down, hm?” Martha patted at your hands again before sinking back into her seat. “Rest up a little. I’m here if you need to talk.”

*

As you laid alone in your bed that night with your hair still partially damp after a shower—memories of your childhood flooded in. You hated feeling so utterly lonely and rejected. It only made you think of growing up which always made you feel worse. It reminded you of being all by yourself at ages where you really should’ve had your parents around, or at least a babysitter.

They hadn’t been ready to have a kid, not really. The couple had been all wrapped up in the romanticism and fantasy of starting a family, and didn’t listen when other parents shared stories to hint at the fact that it’s not that easy. You wondered if that’s when they started to hate you. When you cried all night when they wanted to sleep or go bar hopping with friends. When you’d spit up on them; or suddenly have a shift in your sleeping habits just when they thought they had a grasp on them; or when you constantly grew out of those clothes they swore they just bought. You were a waste of time and money. They looked forward to you growing up more than anything so they could leave you in the house and eventually kick you out of it.

Once you were old enough to make a sandwich or pour a bowl of cereal on your own, they abandoned you as much as possible. Sure, you could handle a peanut butter and jelly or a bowl of Cheerios—that didn’t mean you felt secure in the house all by yourself. At first you would leave all the lights on to give yourself some semblance of security, but then they yelled at you over an electric bill you didn’t understand. Then you’d have “accidents” just so they’d come home—whether that was slicing your finger while trying to cut your sandwich or because you fell or something else you thought of. You found comfort in them being around even if they were pissed at you for being the reason they had to come back early. Then they stopped coming home when you called them crying. Instead, they reassured you that you were old enough to clean your finger and put on a bandaid; or that the fall wasn’t that bad if you could get up and go to the phone in the kitchen. So that ended up being a lost cause.

The habit that stuck the longest was from that little magic 8 ball you got one birthday from an aunt you never saw. It actually listened to you and gave you the reassurance and guidance you needed. When you were scared of the dark, you’d whisper “Do monsters exist?” and it told you no. When you thought you heard someone in the house just because it was settling, you’d ask it if someone broke in and it helped ease your racing heart with the same reply. Besides Eddie, it was your only companion. That stupid hunk of plastic.

Hot tears that you assumed were all spent earlier today stream down from your eyes and into your hair as your train of thought turns to one memory in particular. That night you shook the child’s toy with all your might as you asked it if your parents loved you. This time the familiar phrase scratched into that floating blue triangle wasn’t so comforting.

It was a flash. A blurry replay from the back of your mind, but it still hit you hard. You wipe at your wet cheeks with the feverish haste of someone who was crying in front of a stranger. No one was in the room with you, but you still hated the way it felt. You should’ve never let any of those tears fall today—that’s what made them real. That’s what cemented how miserable you really were.

“Just look up at the sky and blink if you don’t want to.” Eddie had said as he sat next to you on the pavement.

He had been teaching you how to skate and you fell off of his board, leaving your knees and palms all scraped up and bloody. You wanted to cry, but you hated crying. It made you feel like a dumb kid. Mom and dad hate dumb, crybaby kids. You should be able to control your emotions better than this by now.

“If they don’t slip out then they’re not real. They never happened, I promise.” The boy lisped around the gap in his teeth. He had lost his last baby tooth earlier that week. He was all grown up, you guessed.

“But what about when I can’t keep them in?” You whimpered, unsure if you’d be able to blink them back the way he suggested. The boy toyed with a piece of gravel between his fingers and shrugged lazily.

“I dunno. Just wipe ‘em away, I guess. I don’t have any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you wanna.”

He pulled his long sleeve down until it was over his hand and offered his covered fist to you.

You huffed out a broken laugh at the memory and pulled your own sleeve down to continue wiping at your face. God, you missed him. He was your first best friend, and honestly your last. You had never felt that close with anyone else, and sure it was dumb because you were only kids but it still meant a lot to you. He was who you went to when you didn’t want to stay in an empty house, and even though most parents would throw a fit over a girl and a boy having sleepovers—yours couldn’t care less. At least someone else was in charge of you, even if it was Eddie’s dad who they thought was shit for reasons you didn’t understand.

He was a kind of intimidating looking character and sometimes he insisted you two stay at the local park until he came to get you when he had some friends on their way over (which you realized the implications of later), but he was a nice dad. You were around so often that he’d call you “kiddo” and ruffle your hair the way he did with Eddie’s buzzed scalp—which was more grabbing the fuzzy top of his head and nudging him around playfully than really ruffling hair. He knew you didn’t like crust on your sandwiches. He knew you liked strawberry milk more than chocolate milk, which Eddie appreciated cause it meant more chocolate Yoo-hoo for him. His dad was relatively busy and a little intense, but you liked him and you liked staying over.

Even at 24, you missed blanket forts. You missed making up stories under all the blankets and sheets as you held flashlights under your faces. You missed “camping” in the backyard. You missed wrestling. You missed watching tv until the American flag was fluttering and the national anthem played until the screen faded to black. You missed the anticipation of trying to see who was faster at turning off the tv before the screen flipped to those streaks of color and let out that god awful noise. You took turns to see who could get the closest to right when it was about to switch but before that noise could sound. You had the best score before he left.

You smiled lightly now as you settled into the bed, face still warm from all your distress of the day. Despite Eddie being part of why you had been crying in the first place, you still turned to memories of him to calm yourself down. You thought about when you were sure he’d be your first kiss—a decision you had made unfortunately a few weeks before he left. This was the kind of childish memory that made you roll your eyes, but deep down it actually made life simpler and sweeter so you still cozied up to it whenever you remembered. Reminiscing about when those kinds of things were new and exciting—without the burden of knowing all the mess that eventually comes with endearment—soothed you.

At the time, you were steadily approaching adolescence and starting to pay attention to romance novels and tv programs. It made having a boy as your best friend suddenly feel different in your stupid little prepubescent brain. The same shit he always did started to make you go shy and blush, and he’d nudge you and call you a “fuckin’ dork”. He was still in his “girls are gross” phase whereas you were already forming crushes. You developed crushes just about every day by the time you were in fifth grade, but you liked your best friend the most.

It’s funny actually—or maybe just sad—but you still had a habit of constantly forming crushes. The thought of being desired by someone thrilled you, but that love for attention put you in shitty situations sometimes. No one even liked you until you were maturing in a way that felt so much sooner and so much faster than the other girls by grade 6. Maybe that should’ve been the tell that the sudden interest in you was hollow, but it made you feel special. You kinda liked knowing boys fixated on you even if they were mimicking lewd comments they overheard their older brothers say or wrote about you in the boy’s bathroom—no matter how much you hated yourself for secretly basking in all of the attention.

It wasn’t always dumb boys in middle school, though, even if it would’ve been nice for things to be that basic forever. Eventually it was guys who were too old for you when you were in your late teens. The types who’d say shit like “That’s what you gotta love about high school girls. You get older, and they stay the same age,” and made you feel like you were grown and capable—when it benefited them, of course.

The nights you regretted getting wrapped up in the excitement of an older man or someone you had never met before at a bar or someone who had a bad habit of punching holes into walls awfully close to where your head was against the plaster—you thought about Eddie. You wondered if he grew up to be as awful as all the other boys you knew. If he turned into a creep or if he was the same, sweet boy who—sure, would hold you down and pretend he was gonna spit on you—but had also been taught to hold the door open for you or gave you a flower on your birthday or held your hands when he taught you to skate, promising that he wouldn’t let you fall. Well, except for when you insisted you were ready to do it by yourself. Then he said “Okay, but if you fall on your ass then you don’t get to yell at me.” And you didn’t yell, but he gave you his sleeve if you needed to cry.

There were parents who disappointed. Extended family you rarely heard from. Friends that came and went. Boyfriends who broke your heart, but best friends were forever in your mind. Wasn’t that why you made those bracelets and spit into your palms before shaking on the decision that you were always going to be there for each other?

*

Eddie’s shift dragged along after that strange young woman showed up. He knew his reputation. He knew that he was the butt of most jokes. He knew he was the town freak even when he had finally graduated and was trying to be a responsible adult. There would always be a few who remained unrelenting in their efforts to make him miserable, or at least that’s how it felt. And it wasn’t like you were someone he recognized as guilty for his constant harassment, but it wouldn’t be the first time some local asshole’s cousin or friend came to visit and was put up to the task of making him feel liked just for it to be some cruel punchline. He was tired of the jokes and the pranks and the muttered comments as people watched his every move. He needed to stay one step ahead or he’d be dealing with it forever. Why else would you pull him away from the back just to talk to him? He didn’t even know you. The frustration burned at him through most of his shift, which he took out on all the exertion he had to put into fixing that crappy Ford Ranch Wagon. He prayed that he would finally sleep tonight, the thought of a hot shower and an old bed waiting for him steadily bringing his mood back up.

Eddie sighed happily when it was time to clock out, holding the door open for Linda on her way out so she could lock up for the two of them.

“Night, Lin,” he sighed with a small smile that spoke of apologies for his constant grouchiness, and parted from her to head to his van.

“Oh, wait!” she suddenly called out, making him raise his brows and twist on his heels. He watched her make her way over to him all while holding something out for him.

“This was left for you by that odd girl who came by.”

At the mention of you, he scowled a little—certain it was a continuation of some joke, until he felt the plastic beads strung together on some string.

“Uh… thanks.”

“She looked real upset. All teary-eyed. Did you break up with that poor girl?”

“What?” Eddie’s head snapped up to eye her incredulously. “I—No! I don’t even recognize her. I don’t think we’ve even met before.”

Lin eyed him suspiciously before letting out a small hum. Men, she thought, although Eddie had always been a good kid, in her opinion—no matter what others said.

“Really, I swear.”

“Okay, hon… well go get some rest, alright?”

He hoped the same for her, and walked back to his car once she was safe in her vehicle and driving off. Eddie clambered into his old van and carelessly punched the button that turned on the light above his head. The bracelet in his hand was small and crowded with an odd assortment of different shaped and colored beads except for seven of the nearly identical beads that were lined up in the center. At both ends there were knots in the thick string to keep the beads from slipping off and had tails left on either side so you could tie and untie the bracelet whenever. Not that you two ever did untie them. The only time you took yours off was when you went swimming at the community pool and were scared you were going to lose it—and that didn’t count. You both promised it didn’t count cause you were just avoiding disaster.

He held it up to get a better look and read the lettering on those seven beads.

C-R-I-T-T-E-R

Critter. Eddie’s brows furrowed together and confusion was only welcome for half a second—maybe even less—before a pang of familiarity punched him in the gut.

“You’re doing it wrong!”

“How can I be doing it wrong? Will you screw off?”

“Eddie, you have to make a pretty pattern of colors, not just random mish-mash. See?”

You held up the bracelet you were working on for him with a pattern of his favorite colors: red bead, blue bead, black bead, red bead… and so on. His was just whatever bead he grabbed that he thought looked cool since you had so many to choose from. There were bulky wooden ones; those tiny little rainbow ones your mom let you have when her long necklace full of them broke (she didn’t want to clean them up so she promised you could keep them if you did); sunburst ones; chunky square ones that had letters and numbers on them; tribeads that were half in and half out of that thin plastic Beadery bag in your collection; and those dumb pop beads that he couldn’t even put on the string but of course kept picking up by accident.

“Screw off,” He insisted a second time and you rolled your eyes before continuing with your craft.

For all the shit you gave him, you loved the bracelet. Once it was done and he gave it to you, it was officially the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned. You had insisted you two trade the bracelets like you heard the other girls in your grade talk about. You had to make them for each other rather than make your own and you had to tie them around the other’s wrist while they closed their eyes and made a wish.

Some of the boys in school gave him shit for it, calling him names for wearing jewelry he got from the girl in the grade below them. He didn’t care though. After all, Eddie wasn’t one to change himself for the sake of fitting in and he loved his bracelet.

He laughed a bit in disbelief now as he looked down at the bracelet he made for you back in 1975. You remembered him? God, he hadn’t thought of you in forever. Not to be an ass, but because it got too painful.

Among all of the stress that night his dad was arrested, he had been so overwhelmed that he completely shutdown. He was quiet and his expression was numb as he answered questions and packed his things. He was apprehensive and apathetic when he was brought to his uncle he rarely saw, but he didn’t cry. And he never told anyone this, but he never cried until a random thought of not seeing his best friend anymore suddenly set him off while he was trying to sleep. That was what made him realize the reality of everything that occurred. He didn’t have his home anymore. He didn’t have his dad. He didn’t have anything other than a new guardian and a trailer with one bedroom that Wayne had to pull all of his stuff out of so Eddie could have it. And he didn’t have you.

He brought you up a few times, but eventually stopped when he realized how stressed Wayne got over the mention of a trip into Ohio. A trip that meant dipping into his funds—that were already starting to run spectacularly low now that he was responsible for an 11 year old—for the gas money and probably a fee at the state line. Likely a motel room too, if your parents didn’t let them stay at the house.

How did he not recognize you? The more he thought over your interaction, the more he recognized your eyes and the shape of your nose and the curve of your lips even if they were fuller now. Little things here and there that even as an adult made it easier to see the bits and pieces of how you used to look. Here he’s been sulking in all his misery and loneliness, and he had completely scared off the chance to have an old best friend back. And Linda said you had tears in your eyes?

Eddie groaned as he let his head sink forward and rest on the center of his steering wheel. He didn’t even care about the horn that permeated the still night around him as self deprecating thoughts swirled before finally letting up on the button. This groan wasn’t a useless cry to the sky over the state of his life like the others so far, but rather a display of anger at himself for being such a dick. And he couldn’t even fix it. He didn’t have your phone number. He didn’t know where you were staying, if you were even staying. Did you move here? Were you just driving through the state and thought to drop by? Maybe have lunch and catch up before leaving again?

Why did he always have to fuck everything up?

*

You spent a good portion of your weekend sulking until Martha dragged you out on Sunday. You had been eating all the food you brought with you alone in your room and only went outside when you craved your bad habit enough.

“This has to be a violation of a paying customer’s privacy…,” you groaned as you rolled over and shoved your face into your pillow to avoid the light coming in full force from the windows. Martha had unlocked your door and came in to throw the curtains open to pull you out of your post-humiliation funk.

“It’s a beautiful morning. We’re going on a walk to take it all in and I’m taking you to that diner I keep telling you about.”

“I could’ve been naked. What if you came charging in here and I was laying here naked? Neither of us would’ve recovered. And our friendship would be ruined.”

“Oh don’t be so childish,” Martha huffed, hands on her hips. For an older woman she sure could be spritely when she wanted to be—whipping around your room the way she had been and insisting on a journey into the outdoors.

“It’s too cold.”

“Not when we start moving. It’s not even Autumn yet.”

“Technically the first day of Fall has already passed,” you corrected, still face planting your pillow and raising your hand up as you made your point before dropping it back down.

“Well the cold hasn’t reached us yet. I think you’ll survive. Come on, dear, it’ll be good for you. Good for both of us. I’m always cooped up at that desk.”

You sigh, but stay in your bed with all your plans set on sulking until the end of time. Until you were a pile of dust she was vacuuming up so she could get the room ready for someone else. Maybe you were being a tad dramatic, but you still felt that way.

“You want me to wake you up the way Howard did with our daughter? When she wouldn’t get up for high school?”

Now groaning at the thought of that cup of ice cold water trick she told you about, you huff and you finally force yourself up.

Despite your initial refusal to get out of bed, you were glad that Martha made you. It really was a wonderful morning and the smell of fresh air and the sound of the occasional leaf crunching under your feet refreshed you. Even with how deeply you despised being lonely, you had a habit of isolating yourself when you were upset and it could be quite destructive at times when you didn’t have someone to pull you back out of it. She didn’t even force you to discuss Thursday, just kept up casual chit chat like always.

And even if that walk hadn’t been enough to begin lifting your spirits, the food at the diner certainly would’ve done the trick all on its own. It wasn’t the prettiest joint around, but the breakfast was phenomenal. You wondered if she picked up on the fact that food and eating with others was a part of your love language. Being introduced to such an amazing local restaurant that clearly meant a lot to her soothed your aches of rejection and mortification.

Both aspects of the morning Martha forced you to take part in actually helped to improve your mood. What happened still stung but it was less “end of the world” and a little more “bump in the road.” With the fresh air, breakfast food and Martha’s pep talks—you were thinking of your next couple of steps forward rather than all the doom and gloom. You’d attempt to quit all the fast food that only left you more sluggish, and start finding other things to pay attention to. You weren’t giving up on Eddie, but you had to focus on your other needs again. This meant getting out of bed. Eating something other than cheeseburgers and fries, promising Martha you’d get other food Monday.

Well, maybe not Monday. You may have caved again, but you swore the next day. So on that following Tuesday night, you were at the market to pick up some things for you and Martha. There was a small fridge and a cabinet in your room that you could keep things in, and you offered to pick up anything she needed while you were out.

Peanut butter for you, cans of soup for her—oh, actually soup sounded good. With your sudden craving, you grabbed a few more cans. Milk for both of you, as well as cereal. Microwave meals for you, sardines for her—

Oh gross, sardines?

—Could you even stay friends at this revelation? You supposed you could since she let you bother her even with your fast food she couldn’t stand. But this fact wasn’t going anywhere. You were going to give her your best, most dramatic yuck when you gave her her groceries and you would have to insist that she never eats them where you can smell them.

You moved on through the list, and pushed your cart that fought you every step of the way to the bread and baked goods aisle. Why did you always get the cart with the squeaky wheel? The one that stuck every now and then and dragged against the linoleum before finally returning to a squealing roll? Bad luck, you supposed.

Once you were in the aisle, you double checked what brand she requested before letting out a sigh. Of course they were the loaves that were neatly stacked on the top shelf. Notepad paper crushed between your hand and the shelf you were using for support, you stretched up onto your tiptoes as best as you could to grab for one. You could easily grab the pinched end of one and just tug, but you didn’t want to accidentally squish any of them or make any of the others go tumbling. You’re about to step on the bottom shelf when suddenly a hand much larger than yours littered with heavy rings was grabbing it either from you like a dick or for you like a gentleman.

“Still short, huh?” You heard the rough, tired voice say from beside you.

You settled back on your feet and glanced at the man holding out the loaf of bread for you. He was in those dirty coveralls again with the sleeves rolled up, clearly from when he had taken the time to clean his hands and forearms before leaving his shift. His hair was out of its ponytail now so you could see it in all of its chaotic glory. As you accepted his kindness for Martha’s sake, you did your best to tamper your reaction to him being here. Whether it was any excitement over him possibly trying to fix things; or if it was intrigue over how his hair got so long and the fact that he had tattoos now; or if it was irritation leftover from how he treated you last Thursday. Had you still been familiar with one another, and this had been a small spat between friends, you probably would’ve just punched his arm.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” You mutter. Okay so trying to keep a neutral stance wasn’t going very well.

You hear him exhale a quick sigh at your words and the way you refused to look at him. You had one elbow leaning against your cart now while you put all your focus on toying with the piece of paper in your hands. Folding and unfolding, smoothing out creases, lining up the edges of the paper and fixing the previous fold so everything fits better.

“No,” he replied in a defeated tone, but you still weren’t looking at him. “‘N I’m sorry about that, okay? Just wasn’t expecting it, and it’s not like you’re 9 anymore.”

“So I’m guessing you recognize me now?”

“A little, yeah,” He tried to be playful, a small smile tugging on his features until you looked up at him with that sad expression and he was deflated again. “Joke. Bad joke, I- of course I recognize you, Critter.”

You failed in your attempt to not smile at the nickname you hadn’t heard in far too long, making Eddie straighten out his posture again at the sight of your lips curving up.

“You still don’t have a poker face. That right there?” He points at your smile, while his own pulled at his lips “That’s how I won all of your best candy bars on Halloween.”

“You never really kept them from me,” You countered, head tilting back to fully look up at him now and your smile a little more sure.

“Of course not. Cause I’m a sucker and you can get whatever you want with a pout,” He laughed and you grew bashful as your cheeks flushed, ducking your head back down to try and hide it.

“Here,” Eddie sighed after a beat, digging into his pocket and pulling out a bracelet to drop in your palm.

Figuring he was returning yours to you, you were confused when you didn’t see your usual mix of beads. Your brows stayed knit together until you recognized those red, blue and black beads and the nickname in the center. Your features softened as you held out your hand for him to drop it into.

L-O-O-G-I-E

“You kept it…?” you murmured as you stared at the plastic bracelet like it’s treasure, before looking up at him again while your fingers brushed over the beads.

“Obviously,” he replied bluntly, pointing at it.

“Completely tore my place apart to find it so I could prove it, too. Not that my place is the neatest to start with, but…,” he let out a light laugh, head tilting and lazy smile tugging at one side of his mouth. He still smiled the same.

You eyed him for a moment, then returned your focus to the old jewelry. You felt oddly reserved with him after his initial reaction to your appearance at his work, and all the time you spent apart. You never had to work up the courage to speak to him before, or think about what to say or how to say it.

“10.”

“…Hm?”

“I was 10 years old. You said I wasn’t exactly 9 anymore, but it was actually a few weeks out from my birthday when you had to leave.”

“I guess that’s true, huh?” Eddie sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why were his arms so fit? And veiny? And why do you have to tilt your head back to see his face now? Ugh, you’re starting to feel like that young girl who read her first romance novel and was developing her first crushes.

“Yeah…,” you say simply, fearing you’ll make a fool of yourself if you try to say more.

“I’m sorry that all happened around your birthday.”

He was so sincere when he said it, but it made your eyes grow wide as you looked up at his face again.

“Oh god– no. No, no, no. Don’t apologize. That’s not how I meant that at all. You-- that wasn’t your fault. And it was worse for you than it was for me, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, with the convict dad and all. But it’s a real shame…,” he sighs with feigned disappointment. “Y’know… that you couldn’t kiss me on your birthday.”

That evil grin sunk his dimples into his cheeks and he sucked on his teeth while he clasped his hands behind his back. Your eyes might as well have been popping out of your skull at this point, your whole face heating up.

“I— you— how— oh, you dick!” you gasp at the revelation through all of your sputtering and punch his shoulder without even thinking, and certainly not noticing the elderly woman who huffed at your unladylike behavior before scuttling away. “You read my diary!”

“Yeah, well, you really should’ve gotten the kind that came with a lock.”

“So you don’t recognize me, but you remember a journal entry you shouldn’t have read? Great, that’s great, Eddie.”

You were turning around now, starting to push your cart towards the other end of the aisle. Roll. Squeak. Maybe it was time to head back to Ohio? Maybe you didn’t need such an obnoxious little shit back in your life. Drag. Roll. Squeak.

“I said I was sorry for not recognizing you,” he groaned and followed after you. “How much groveling am I gonna have to do?”

Oh, plenty. Plenty of groveling.

*

taglist: @mystars123 @h-ness1944 @ohmeg @milkymil-k

@eddiesprincess86

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #bsf!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #bartender!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things #desiderium part 2 #desiderium eddiessluttywaist #eddiessluttywaist #eddie munson angst #slow burn #slow burn eddie munson #desiderium series

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Closing Time

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Bartender!Reader

Rating: Mature

Notes: Not beta-read, cause when is it ever. Just a little oneshot, set pre-show

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Warnings: Cursing, flirty Rhett, drunk Rhett

Summary: “You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

You knock on the bar twice, catching Rhett's hazy eye and raising a brow. 

“You good?” 

“Fine.” It’s a near-slurred mumble, chased by the delayed glance toward a woman you’d seen him talking to half an hour ago. There are so few people left in the bar, it's hard to miss her. Now, she’s on the arm of one of the Tillerson’s—you’re too lazy to get a better look at which one. You’re already dreading whichever one might come over to pay the tab, if they bother to pay the tab tonight. You’ve been working long enough to know not to chase the Tillersons out the door when they haven’t. Luke typically turns up some time around opening the next day, asking what they owe with a smarmy smile, dropping a thick stack of bills on the countertop to cover it, and telling you to keep the change, sweet thing. 

You lean back against the counter, eyeing the few other patrons, waving at the few that have already paid and are on their way out. You glance toward Rhett again, toward where he’s trailing his finger along the side of his half-full beer. He looks back as the TIllerson’s explode in laughter. They rise from their table, trailing toward the door. 

“‘Ey,” Rhett mumbles it at first, so softly that you hardly realize he’s spoken. He tries it again, louder, as the Tillerson's breeze outside. 

“Hey!” He yells, rising so quickly that he sends the stool tumbling to the ground. 

“Dude!” You hiss. 

“You didn’t pay!” He’s still yelling after them, as if they’re not already gone. You lean over the bar and reach out, whacking him in the bicep with the rag you use to clean the counter top. It seems to snap him out of it, and he glances between you and the door, pointing after them. “They didn’t pay!” 

“Thank you for the update, Columbo. Would you sit back down?” 

You reach out, taking up his unfinished beer and dumping it out. 

“I wasn’t done with that—” 

“You’re done with it now. Sit down and gimme your phone.” 

Rhett seems to take a moment to process what you've said. Then he takes your orders one after another, reaching down and taking up the stool and righting it before sitting. He fishes into his pocket, drawing his phone out and passing it over. You eye the cracked screen before you hold it up to him. 

“Open it.” 

He hesitates, gaze flickering to you before he does as he’s told again. You bring the phone back, finding Perry’s number and raising it to your ear. 

“Rhett?” The question is croaked out after two rings, “What are you doin’, callin’ now?” 

“Come get your brother.” 

“...Aw, hell,” Perry mutters. The sound is in and out; you’re almost certain he's scrubbing his hand over his face. “Alright. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

“Fuckin’ better. I've gotta close here.” 

You don’t wait for his answer, you just hang up and toss Rhett’s phone onto the counter in front of him. You catch a glimpse of his hangdog expression as you turn away from him, taking up a coffee mug and filling it before turning back to him. 

“Take your time with it,” You warn as you set it down. “It’s hot.” 

“...They didn’t pay.” 

“I know. They’ll come back in the morning.” 

“That so?” 

“Trust me. This isn’t the first time.” 

“They get away with all that shit.” 

“They’re not getting away with anything," You fib. "If you left without paying, I’m sure you’d be back in the morning, too.” You walk over to the counter, popping the register open and beginning to count the till out. Otherwise empty, the bar has settled into quiet, save for the murmur of music over the speakers, and the odd thud of Rhett’s coffee mug being set back down on the counter. You glance over at him, weighing your options, watching him smooth his hand over his hair, the brace on his wrist nearly obscuring his face as he reaches up. You turn back to the bills, counting through them. 

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

“How’d you know I got a bad bull?”

“Heard people talking.” 

“I wasn’t trying to fight Luke.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckle. “Don’t pretend you were trying to protect the integrity of the business.” 

“They act like they own everything in this damn town.” 

You won’t argue with that. He’s not wrong—but it’s also not something that you’re willing to combat. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes that tip. 

“Keep drinking your coffee,” You advise. “Your ma’ll have my head if you’re drunk as a skunk when you get in.” 

“She won’t,” Rhett chuckles. “She loves you. ‘Sides, I did this myself.” 

“I should’ve cut you off two beers ago.” 

“I ain’t that bad.” 

“Not all that good, either. Speaking of which, if you’re gonna toss, aim for a trash can.” 

“I’m not gonna be sick.” 

“You sure?” 

“Trust me.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I been worse than this.” 

“Well, that I know.” 

“You’re really makin’ me feel better.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not here to make you feel better, Abbott. This isn’t Cheers, despite the fact that you chose to go somewhere everybody knows your name.” 

“Can’t go anywhere in Amelia County without someone knowing my name.” 

“Well hey, big guy, my apologies.”

“That ain’t what I mean,” Rhett chuckles. Then he perks up, patting his hands on the counter. “What can I do?”

“What?” You frown, glancing up from the stack of twenties.

“Put me to work. What can I do?” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’ll just be sitting here til Perry comes an’ gets me. C’mon.” 

You hesitate before you nod toward the flap. 

“Grab the clorox spray and wipe down the tables if you really wanna help.” 

Rhett stands, rounding the counter and lifting the flap to get behind the bar. He ducks down, eyeing the shelf that you pointed to before he grabs the spray and the rag. You arch a brow, watching him round to the end of the bar, starting with the furthest tables. Maybe he’s trying to get out of trouble with you. Maybe he thinks if he helps out, you won’t mention this to his mama. Hell, you’re not planning on mentioning it to her, anyway, but you’ll take all the help you can get. 

“If you throw up, you’re cleaning it up,” You warn. 

“Told you,” He calls back. “I’m not gonna be sick.” 

You grunt, filling out the closing sheet before tucking the cash into the envelope. You find yourself tucking it into the back of your jeans, drawing your shirt down over it. You trust Rhett, sure, but if someone comes in when you’re cleaning up and it’s just laying around, and that sleeve comes up missing, your ass is on the chopping block. 

You look over to find Rhett studiously scrubbing the bar. You can’t help but smile a little. That hangdog look seems to have vanished. You can’t help but wonder what’s done it. Maybe his head is clearing up; maybe it’s because he’s helping you out, making himself useful. 

“You gimme a minute, we can start putting up the chairs,” You offer. 

“I can do it.”

“It’ll go faster with two.” You shut the drawer, locking it before you round the counter. You reach out, taking the rag and spray from him. “You feeling better?”  

“Yeah,” He admits. “Think I just needed to move around a bit. Coffee helped.” 

“Good.” You glance toward the clock. “Perry should be here soon.” 

Rhett nods, picking up his coffee and taking a swig. 

“Want some more?” You ask, nodding toward the mug.

“Uh…” He frowns, tipping the mug toward himself. “If there is more, yeah. Please.” 

You nod, taking up the coffee pot. “Polite as always, Abbott.” 

“Not always.” 

“I suspect you can be damn polite when you wanna be, so long as I’m not a Tillerson.” 

“Alright, let up,” He grumbles, drawing his mug back as you empty the coffee pot and set it down again. You smile as he nods back. “Are we stackin’ chairs?” 

“In a minute. Drink your coffee.”

“You always been this bossy?” 

“Yes.” 

“How’d I never realize?” 

“Probably too distracted by cute girls and the Tillerson’s to notice.” 

“Jealous, honey?” 

The accusation sends heat skittering up your neck. You force an eye roll, turning away and straightening up. 

“Alright, cap it and help me stack some fucking chairs,” You grumble, skirting out from behind the bar. 

“That a yes?” Rhett trails after you like a puppy; even with your back to him, you can practically hear his dopey smile. It makes that heat creep up just a little higher. You reach down, forcing your mind to the task at hand, and away from Rhett’s fastidious and curious gazes. 

“S’alright, you can tell me. If you’d told me sooner, I might’a done something about it,” Rhett adds. You glance over toward him, watching him lift a chair and set it on the table. 

“Is that right?” You ask dryly. 

“Sure. Always thought you were pretty.” 

“Were?” You lean into it, ready to brush off the flirting, “The bloom’s already off the rose?” 

You set a chair onto the table, and before you can get any further, you feel the warmth of him behind you. He raises his hands, bracketing you in and grasping the legs of the chair that you’ve set on the table. Your heart ticks up in your chest as you keep your gaze set forward. 

“You see all those other chairs, Abbott?” You ask lightly. Rhett is quiet for a moment, stepping closer, lips brushing against your temple. 

“I don’t see anything else in here but you, sugar.” 

You push back the warmth that his murmur wells up in favor of nudging him aside with a laugh of, “Oh, that’s good.” You walk to the next table, stalwartly keeping your gaze from his as you begin to put up more chairs. You glance back to find Rhett leaning dejectedly against the table, and you sigh softly. 

“Don’t do that,” You grumble. 

“What?” 

“Pout.” 

“I struck out twice.” 

“You only struck out once.” 

“What do you call this?” Rhett asks, waving his finger between the two of you. You rest a hand on the table, cocking your hip. 

“This," You mimic his gesture, "Was never gonna happen. No offense, Abbott, but I don’t fuck drunk patrons.” 

“What about sober ones?” 

“You aren’t sober, Rhett.” 

“Not right now, but…” 

You raise your brows as Rhett lets it hang in the air. You consider for a moment before you shrug a little. You may as well throw the guy a bone—especially since you mean it, a little.

“Maybe,” You concede, “But bat those pretty lashes all you want, it ain’t happening tonight.” 

Your stomach flips as Rhett’s lips pull into a teasing little smile. “You think my lashes are pretty?” 

You laugh again, shaking your head and turning away from him. 

“Put up the damn chairs, Abbott.” 

#Rhett Abbott x Reader #Rhett Abbott x You #Rhett Abbott/Reader #Rhett Abbott/You #Rhett Abbott fic #Rhett Abbott imagine #Closing Time

[yunjardi]

my heart bel♡ngs to daddy [series]

[young sugar daddy jake x fem.reader au]

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click here for this series's masterlist to read previous chapters, general warnings, and playlist

[‼️chapter warnings‼️: smut [mdni], angst, DADDY KINK, angst, crying, unprotected sex, jake being a bit pervy, car sex, oral, fingering, riding, cockwarming, mentions of food/eating, pls lmk if i missed anything!]

*sorry for any grammar errors

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chapter 9: the healing process

"since when was it october?" you asked yeji as you fiddled with your black bunny ear headband that became a part of your work uniform that "updated" itself into a black skin-tight mini dress instead of the regular low-cut shirt. since halloween was just around the corner, they wanted every woman employee in a slutty halloween costume to 'attract customers.' "since a week and a half ago, y/n. jake really is warping your sense of reality, isn't he?" yeji joked as she pulled on a strand of your hair, causing you to swat her hand away in playful yet mildly annoyed manner. "okay fine," you sighed in defeat, "i'll admit that he's been distracting the fuck out of me lately, especially since we had our first argument not long ago. i mean, we kinda made up but it's still fresh in my mind." yeji tapped her nails on the marble counter of the bar with an evil smile on her face.

"you know, if he was really fazed by you being with any other guy but him to the point where you two literally had some kind of argument, maybe you should A. just become a couple or B. ditch his ass for being too protective over you. but i say you go with A," yeji remarked as she tossed a dishrag into the basket of dozens of other dish towels that were waiting to be put in the washing machine. "ugh," you groaned, "you see, it's not as easy as it seems." yeji raised an eyebrow at your response. "how so? he's clearly in love with you and we all know you also love-"

"hush!" you snapped, "don't say the 'L' word, yeji! that's not a thing! especially not with jake and i! he's just doing his job as a sugar daddy while i hold up the other end of the bargain. you know how that stuff works." she sighed sarcastically and tapped her nails on counter again. "denial," yeji said in a singsong tone, "someone's being moody again today."

yeji always noticed how moody and snappy you became when she brought up how you and jake should make things official, but she noticed changes in your mood in general lately. she figured it was just the nerves getting to you about your whole situation with

"okay, i'm sorry." you sighed again, "i didn't mean to snap at you. i just haven't been able to think clearly since jake and i fought. it's supposed to be a good thing that we have a bit of a wedge in between us because i don't wanna get too attached, but why do i feel so bad? like i said, i think we already kinda made up and everything. i literally haven't seen him since then, but it feels like it's still haunting my mind and it hurts so bad."

yeji played with strands of your hair as you rambled. "you told me not to say it," yeji said sarcastically. you groaned and rolled your eyes.

"ugh, and i shouldn't even be thinking of him right now! we have fall exams coming soon and i cannot let jake distract me," you realized in the midst of your blabbering. yeji groaned at your mention of exams as she let go of the strands of your hair.

just then, the bells that were attached to the top hinge of the door jingled, signifying that someone just walked in. "oh," yeji said as she looked over at the door, "speak of the devil; your little 'distraction' is here." before you could turn your around, you were already met with the sensation of being hugged from behind.

"y/n... i've missed you so much," jake said softly as he cozied his cheek on your bare shoulder, his cold skin from the weather outside sending shivers down your body. "i still feel really bad about how i treated you that night," he admitted glumly, "can i make it up to you?" he placed a kiss on your cheek as a shy smile formed on your face. though you didn't exactly know what he entailed when he said he wanted to 'make it up to you,' you, as much as you desperately wanted to deny it, really wanted to spend time with him.

you couldn't help but notice the customers looking at you and jake's close interaction, thankfully most of their eyes being fixated on jake's face rather than yours; they looked at him in a way that you'd look at a familiar face. did some customers know him or something? maybe that's just how rich people are; scoping out "competition."

either way, the two of you seemed like a fake couple who looked married from the perspective of the general public, which made you feel all sorts of mixed emotions that you couldn't even begin to understand. seeing him and feeling his touch for the first time in what felt like ages only made you more confused about your feelings. you couldn't lie; you still felt a sting in your heart when you looked at him because of what happened between the two of you but at the same time, you still felt glad that he took time out of his day to see you.

"my puppy. so sweet as usual," you couldn't help but gush unintentionally as you snaked your arm around him to play with his hair, "but i'm working right now, jake. my break is soon, so i promise i'll spend time with you then." you felt his face turn pouty against your shoulder when you told him that you had to work. heck, he literally came to visit you at your job.

"i'll sit here and wait for you to be done," jake said with a smile as he sat on a barstool, sitting and waiting there the way a puppy would wait for its owner. you let out a satisfied sigh as you subconsciously smiled, yeji elbowing you with a cheeky grin on her face, making you shoot her a wide-eyed look that screamed 'hush!' and then continued work as usual as if jake wasn't sitting off to the side waiting for your break to come.

customers came and went, ordering simple menu items like rounds of soju shots, spirits, and various wines, but jake always seemed to have his eyes glued to you when you fake-flirted with customers in order to seduce them into giving you tips; it made his jealously perk up again though he didn't want to admit it.

you may have a sugar daddy, but you still couldn't put away your pride and just let him handle all the things in your life that involved money. you wanted to prove to yourself that you weren't completely reliant on him; that you only wanted him for the material things that he gave you and not because you were desperate for money or the attention of a man. if anything, you didn't even have to work or go to school at all anymore with all the money he gives you for simply existing and spending time with him. but still, you held onto your bartending job just in case things fell apart, which they nearly did a few days ago.

jake's eyes were fixated on you whenever you used the boston shaker to make a customer their drink. he watched the way your hands would grip the shaker and move it up and down, shamelessly getting riled up by your seemingly innocent actions. your skimpy outfit wasn't helping the 'situation' in his pants either. it made him feel like he should watch you work more often.

after what felt like ages, you were finally able to take an hour long break from working, and you decided to rest in jake's car with him since it had nice, comfy seats that you could recline. when you mentioned to him that you just wanted to spend time with him in his car, he, again, got a little riled up.

you two exited the front doors, jake putting his arms around you to try and keep you warm before you arrived to his car, and it didn't take you long realize that jake was leading you to a car that looked unfamiliar to you.

"new car?" you questioned as you looked up at jake. "not a new one, just my other car," he said nonchalantly as he opened the car door for you, letting you sit down on the seat that you were not yet familiar with considering that you'd never been inside this car before.

'rich people,' you thought to yourself as you internally rolled your eyes.

but still, you reclined the seat as far back as it could possibly go before laying your head down on the headrest of the seat after placing your bunny ear headband on the dashboard, closing your eyes and trying your best to shield your face from the sunlight that lightly beamed on you from the windows.

"is it too bright, princess?" jake asked as he shielded your face from the sun with his big hand, "the windows in this car aren't as tinted as the ones in my other car."

you nodded, admitting that you thought it was too bright, but you told him that you'd be okay as long as your face was covered. at that, he reached over to the side of the seat, pulling out a foldable windshield cover to block the sun, making sure you were fully shaded from the bright beams.

you let out a content hum in response and as you finally closed your eyes to rest, you couldn't help but have underlying thoughts of doing 'things' with him in the car. you wanted him at the most inconvenient times. you were trying to sleep for fuck's sake, but your stomach was beginning to heat up; the pit in your stomach only grew bigger when you realized that you and jake haven't fucked since the day of your argument. you needed to feel him, and you couldn't bear even a second more of not having him inside you.

"jake?" you asked as you looked over at him, him face toward you immediately and giving you all of his attention. "hm? what's wrong, princess?" he responded, reaching over to you and putting his hand on your thigh. his touch only made you even more nervous to ask him if you guys could move to the backseat.

"can we maybe..." you said softly as you looked behind you. jake chuckled at your shyness as he began to gently run his hand up and down your thigh. he could tell by your needy eyes that your request to move to the backseat was not one of innocence.

"move to the backseat? why is that, princess?" jake instigated teasingly although he already knew exactly what you wanted. you pouted as you let your head fall onto the seat's headrest again, your cheek cutely squished against the surface which made jake giggle and place a kiss on your forehead.

the two of you quickly climbed into the backseat and comfortably situated yourselves before ending up all over each other in a matter of seconds. you fiddled with the buttons on his silk shirt before eventually beginning to unbutton it from top to bottom. jake locked his lips with yours, smiling into the kiss as you continued needily unbuttoning his shirt until his toned abs were on display for your viewing pleasure.

getting on the floor between his legs, you teasingly ran your hands down his torso until you got to the waistband of his trousers. flashing your needy eyes at him once again, he gave you a look of approval, biting down on his plump bottom lip before you pulled his pants and boxers down in one go. you moaned quietly at the sight of his hard cock on display for you, spitting on his member before beginning to stroke it.

"shit," jake cursed lowly as you gently kissed up his shaft, slowly stroking him at the same time. eventually, you started to suck on as much of his length that you could fit in your mouth, jake groaning and biting his lip as you pleased him. you pumped the half of his member that didn't fit in your mouth as jake whimpered and gripped onto the edge of the seat so hard that his knuckles began to turn white. watching jake's legs tremble from overstimulation as he moaned out for you was such a cute sight in your eyes.

you swirled your tongue around his tip and began to suck on it, which made jake go absolutely insane, his chest rising and falling slowly as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

"wait," jake panted, "i don't wanna cum yet; i wanna cum inside you." his comment made the fire in your stomach grow, your panties clinging to your entrance as you got more and more wet.

you two switched places, jake now being in between your legs and sliding your panties down eagerly as you played with his hair. immediately after placing your panties off to the side, jake pushed the skirt part your dress up to your waist and began to work wonders with his lips and tongue against your entrance, making you moan out loud for him. he sucked on your clit while skillfully pumping his fingers in and out of you, groaning against your sensitive entrance.

"jakey," you moaned quietly, "n-need more." he swirled his tongue on your clit one more time before looking up at you from in between your legs and reaching over to recline the seat you were in.

he got off the floor of the car and positioned himself in front of you, already beginning to tease your needy pussy with his tip.

"please?" you begged with glossy eyes. "have i ever said no to you, my princess?" jake asked as he inched himself inside you, causing you to gasp out and let out a quiet mewl.

you held onto his shoulders as you felt the slight burn of his girth stretching you out when his tip passed your entrance. it hadn't been that long since the last time you had sex with jake, but it'd been long enough to where you'd have to get used to his size for a little bit before letting him go all the way in.

he hissed at the way your walls were already starting to pulse around him as you let out a moan, his tip resting right in the spot you wanted him the most. he groaned and bit his plump bottom lip as he began to gently thrust in and out of you, the two of you moaning in sync as the rhythm of his hips became more steady. your eyes were fixated on his handsome face as he pounded into your sensitive entrance which began to grow sore.

"aw, my princess can't stop looking at me," he cooed before trailing kisses along your neck, "you love looking at daddy while he's making your pussy feel good, huh?" you nodded, eyes teary from the immense amount of pleasure that he was giving you.

"m-mhm," you managed to respond, "so handsome. w-wanna ride you." you stuttered out, making jake smirk and swiftly change his and your position so you could comfortably sit on top of him. the feeling of sinking down onto his thick cock made you let out a lustful moan as you fully settled down into his lap, taking as much of him as you possibly could in the position you were in. "daddy makes me feel so good."

"mhm, princess. i'm so deep inside you," jake groaned lowly, kneading your ass as you began to roll your hips against his, the two of you moaning and close to orgasming.

"i wanna cum s-so bad, jakey," you mewled out while bouncing softly on his rock hard cock, wanting so badly to feel him deeper despite being slightly overstimulated.

"let loose, my princess. i've missed having your cum all over my cock."

and at that, you let your arousal run down his length, moaning his name all throughout your orgasm whilst his cum spurted inside you and filled you up.

staying on his lap for awhile to relax, you looked jake in his pretty brown eyes. you two finally felt like you officially made up after car sex of all things, which was pretty on-brand considering your relationship with him. jake drew a little heart on the fogged up window, giggling afterward as he looked into your pretty eyes.

you never knew that fucking and unintentionally making up in the process felt so damn good until jake introduced you to that concept.

"let's put all this petty shit behind us, y/n," you heard jake's soft voice in your ear, "being without you is... really weird, honestly, you know, because we spend a lot of time together, like jeez, you were all i was thinking about before i came to see you." jake admitted as he chuckled.

you nodded your head though you tried desperately to not let him know that you shared the same emotions.

"no more fighting," you agreed with a light laugh, "after all, how could daddy be mad at his princess?"

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you don't remember going home from work last night, but all you knew right now was that you have a good 30 minutes to get ready to catch the underground train to get to school.

springing out of bed, you quickly threw some clothes on, washed your face and brushed your teeth, threw your school stuff into your backpack, and sped over to the kitchen counter to put some fish flakes and a vacation feeder in perry's tank for good measure. but before busting out of your front door, you remembered something important: you needed to give jeongin his suit jacket back.

with the thought of all the trouble it caused between you and jake, you picked it up, opened your front door, locked it behind you, and began to make your way toward the underground train station.

surprisingly, you made it to the lecture hall with quite a bit of time to spare, so you scoped out a nice and quiet spot for you, yeji, and jeongin to sit for the duration of the day's lecture. you hung jeongin's suit jacket on the chair next to you to save one of the seats next to you for him.

now that you knew for sure what you and him had was platonic, you were no longer antsy to see him whenever you had class together; it was a colossal relief and weight off your shoulders to know that he was simply a close friend.

just then, you were snapped out of your thoughts by someone plopping into one of the chairs next to you. it was jeongin.

"hey, y/n!" jeongin smiled warmly, "it's been forever since we've seen each other! how've you been since the ball?" you smiled back at him. "ummm, just a bit stressed over school as usual," you responded, slightly guilty about the white lie since you knew that he was genuinely curious about how you were feeling, "oh yeah! your suit jacket is hanging on the chair if you didn't notice. thank you for giving it to me that night. it was super sweet of you."

he turned around and looked at his suit jacket that he hadn't seen in a little while and smiled before grabbing a notebook and some pens out of his backpack, getting ready for class to start.

"is yeji coming today?" jeongin asked as he ran his fingers through his hair with a chuckle. you checked the time on the clock then looked over to the door. "she's probably just running late as per usual," you chuckled back just as she bursted into the lecture hall.

"i'm here! i made it, guys!" yeji cheered as she pranced over to where you and jeongin were sat. "congratz on making it here before the lecture started, yej," jeongin said sarcastically, making yeji roll her eyes.

"at least i showed up today," she huffed as she plopped into her chair just in time for the beginning of class.

the boring professor started his lecture with a speech about how everyone now has to work harder than ever at this homestretch before graduation and blah, blah, blah.

in the middle of his speech, yeji leaned in closer to you to tell you something.

"psst, you know there's gonna be a halloween party at the choi frat house the day before actual halloween, right? we have to go!" she whisper-yelled, "this might be one of our last frat parties ever, and it's gonna be super fun!" you let out a quiet sigh as you looked over to the side of the room where one of the choi frat house members, yeonjun, sat.

"yeji, you know we have to prepare for finals, right?" you said with a raised eyebrow.

yeji grabbed your arm and shook it gently. "oh come on," she whined, "it's one party. i promise it won't literally make you fail all your exams." she said with sarcasm.

"y/n, the two of us are going to that halloween party at the choi frat house next weekend. it'll be so fun, and there's gonna be loads of cute guys there," yeji said with a grin on her face as she held both of your hands, "plus, i already planned our costume; the classic angel and devil. better be ready at 8PM sharp so that we can enjoy the whole party, you know, if you decide to stay long enough to possibly get some action from a guy who'll try to convince you to wipe your memory of jake for just one night before you freak out and remember how much you 'L-word' him and realize that you don't want anyone else touching you but him."

you nervous smile before slowly nodding in agreement, but not before you smacked her on her arm because of her slick and snarky little comment.

"okay, fine," you sighed, giving in to her proposal, "but only because i know you won't stop pestering me until i agree." a cheeky grin formed on her face as she shook with excitement in her seat.

'a halloween party? really?' you thought to yourself as you plunked your head into your hand, rubbing your forehead as you realized what you'd just agreed to.

your halloween party conversation ended just in time because now the professor was finally going to begin talking about things that pertain to the class.

"all of that talk about graduation being said, i am now going to present to you all part one of your final project assignment for my class," your professor announced as he switched the slide on the screen and began to explain the assignment, "this project is a partner activity and will be a showcase of what we've learned the entire year. i'll give you all the privilege to pick your partners; choose wisely and begin working before your first progress check rolls around. i recommend that you review this semester's and last semester's material independently before jumping into the group work."

you, yeji, and jeongin immediately exchanged looks, which solidified the fact that you all would be partners for this stupid project for this stupid class.

"well, i guess we better start looking over the stuff from this class before jumping into the group work," jeongin shrugged, mocking the professor as you and yeji snickered.

just then, your phone buzzed, startling you. you reached into your pocket to pull out your phone to see texts from jake.

your heart fluttered at the thought of being absolutely spoiled rotten by jake. so naturally, you texted him back, agreeing to go out after class.

you couldn't help but get nervous about your bold text as you awaited his reply.

your stomach flipped at jake reciprocating the flirty-ness that your threw out, making you even more excited to see him as much as you hated to admit it. after all, you agreed not long ago to go to a party where there will be "loads of cute guys" to try to forget about him for just one second, so why would you even be excited to see him at all if you were trying so hard to not like him.

'how fun,' you thought to yourself as you put your phone back in your pocket, 'more conflicting feelings.'

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

after waving goodbye at yeji and jeongin once class ended, you sighed as you walked out of the lecture hall, stressed with the weight of a group project that rested on your shoulders. although you were working with your two best friends, it didn't fully change the fact that you hated group work.

still, you tried to shake it off as you looked around for jake and found him sitting on one of the benches outside, looking as handsome as ever, of course.

you waved from the other side of the street to steal his attention away from his phone where he was most likely watching dog videos. seeing something abruptly move from side to side, he looked up to see you smiling a bit shyly at him as you waved your arm in the air. jake immediately hopped off the bench, looking left and right before crossing the street, which you found cute for some reason. once he was close enough to reach out for you, he instantly pulled you into a tight hug. after letting go of you, he looked into your eyes and cocked his head.

"you look so stressed, my princess. what's wrong?" he frowned as he put his arms around your waist before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"oh, it's just school stuff, that's all," you replied, trying your best not to let out a stress ridden sigh, "i have to review old material for a group project that i need to start working on asap."

he felt as if there were other things weighing you down, but he took your word and just nodded his head.

jake trailed one of his hands up to your back and rubbed gentle circles around it, showing you that he understood the stress you were under. the pda you two were displaying felt amplified for some reason, making you become more shy with every circle jake rubbed on your back.

"here," jake said as he tilted your chin up to look at him, "we can go to a nice cafe, and i can help you study. does that sound good, princess? we can go out and shop some other time." his proposal made you smile and nod your head eagerly as he began to lead you to his car.

he drove to a cute little cafe and looked over at you in a way that he was waiting for your "approval" of the place. you smiled at him and then peered out the windshield, admiring the cute and neatly groomed plants that surrounded the small building. jake opened the car door for you then took your hand to lead you inside.

the door jingled when jake opened it, a barista giving you two a warm smile upon your entry.

"go ahead and sit down. i'll go and order for us," he smiled as you sat down and began to take your notebooks out to study. you felt a sense of calmness now that you were in the peaceful and beautifully decorated cafe.

soon, jake came back with two cups of tea and a small variety of pastries for the two of you to snack on for the duration of your visit. you smiled as you took a bite of one of the soft pastries, later washing it down with some tea.

"let me help you study, princess," jake smiled as he picked up a highlighter and a pen, "tell me what you need help with, and i'll get right to it."

you went on to explain the basics of the material whilst jake listened intently, occasionally glancing at your face while you talked; your beauty causing a distraction for him.

"sorry that my explanation was a bit rocky; i'm not very good at articulating stuff," you admitted sheepishly as jake quickly gathered himself to look as if he wasn't staring at you.

"no, no, it was fine, princess. don't be so hard on yourself," he reassured you with a chuckle stroking your hair as he began to highlight some of your notes, still trying to play things off. which he, of course, succeeded at because you remained mildly stressed, causing you to be less attentive than usual. "you'll be able to go home and rest in no time," jake smiled whilst you also began to make notes on the material that you just explained to him.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't feeling comforted by him, but there was also some underlying uneasiness at the thoughts of what he said to you that night.

'just forget about it, y/n,' you scolded yourself mentally, 'you already "made up" with him, so just fucking focus on what's important.'

"zoning out?" jake asked with a sheepish laugh as you snapped yourself out of your thoughts, nodding in honest agreement. "yeah a little," you responded with a weak smile.

"let me take you home then."

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

jake finally pulled up to your house after what felt like forever considering that you were exhausted. he took initiative and carried your school bag for you as you trudged to unlock the front door. once you walked in, you instinctively fed perry before walking to your bedroom, jake locking the door for you then walking over to place your backpack next to your couch.

walking into your room felt like heaven on earth. you didn't even want to change into comfy pajamas before flopping onto your bed, but you decided to quickly change so you could reach the maximum amount of comfort you could possibly feel.

jake walked in while you were in the middle of changing, his face immediately turning bright red at the sight. you sensed his presence and turned around in a slightly startled manner. "s-sorry, i can get out-" jake said as he pointed at the door behind him. "jake, you've seen me naked before," you chuckled before pulling your pajama pants up, "you're silly." his lips formed a pout as you giggled.

he walked over to your dresser drawers and opened the one that he stored some of his clothes in, similar to the way you did at his house, and found something warm comfortable to change into.

watching him undress himself only to put on different clothes kinda turned you on, but you felt too tired to act on those feelings and urges so you opted for just innocently lying on the bed with him.

before he crawled into bed with you, you heard him plop on the floor next to a pile of plushies you had in one of the corners of your room. "i missed you guys so much," jake said, his words muffled from the fact that he plunked his head face-first into their soft fur. jake was very fond of soft and fluffy things, so you could practically sense the happiness radiating off of him now that he finally got to be with your plushies again. you smiled lightly at how cute he looked whilst choosing which one he wanted to bring over to the bed. once he finally settled on one, he hopped into bed with a little 'whee!' and snuggled up next to you, hugging the plushie.

"someone's comfortable," you chuckled as you brushed his hair with your fingers, "so cute, puppy."

you hated admitting that you loved his touch. you loved when he was close to you. you loved the feeling of his body against yours. even though you adored his touch so much, your heart was still twisting itself into knots, still not being able to forget the harsh things he said that were still eating away at your heart.

jake must've sensed that you were feeling uneasy because he randomly decided to shimmy up close to your face and look you in your eyes. you swore that jake's sixth sense was knowing if there was something on your mind.

"my pretty princess," jake said with a cute smirk, "something on your mind?" he asked.

'shit. he knows,' you thought to yourself as your brain scampered to find a response. you didn't want to tell him directly how you were feeling, so you just let words spill out.

"i-i just, i really," you stuttered, "i really need to be close to you right now." you didn't even exactly know what you meant by that, but you felt like it was the only way you could express yourself; by just letting words fall out of your mouth. you didn't know if it would make you feel better to push him away or to let him hold you so tight that he probably physically wouldn't be able to let you go, so you decided to try the second option for the time being.

your hand snaked itself down to palm him through his sweatpants as he started to kiss your face gently. everything happened so naturally that you almost didn't even realize what was happening.

jake soon locked his lips with yours, kissing you slowly as he put his hands in your shirt. you snuck one of your hands past the waistband of his sweatpants and began to feel his hard through his boxers until you worked up the courage to slide your hand into them. jake gasped into the kiss at the feeling of your hand on his sensitive cock.

you freed yourself from the kiss, you and jake positioned yourselves in a comfortable position where he could easily slide into you. lining his tip up to your needy entrance, he gently entered you, both of you gasping at the feeling.

"is this what you meant when you said you needed to be close to me?" jake asked with a cute smirk to which you became bashful. "maybe," you responded to him as you pushed your hips down further, causing you both to let out quiet moans again. you tried to stay still and just cockwarm him, but you subconsciously started to squirm and move around to feel him more. you heard him suck in breaths whenever you moved around, his arms seeming to hold you tighter.

"aww, is my princess needy? do you want to feel daddy even closer?" jake cooed as you nodded. in this moment, you felt like you didn't have enough self control to only cockwarm him; you wanted, no, needed, more because you just wanted to see if it would be the solution to your heartache caused by the fight.

jake chuckled at how cute you were whenever you were needy for him then proceeded to gently position you onto your side so he could fuck you just the way you wanted. lifting up your leg for easy access, he lined his tip up to your entrance and pushed himself in, earning a few quiet moans from you once he started fucking you slow.

the gentle sex started to remind you of the night you two fought since that was what you two were doing before the whole altercation, but you tried to push it out of your mind and pay attention to the pleasure. you let jake kiss you slowly as he slid his cock in and out of you at a perfect pace; not too slow, but not too quick. losing yourself in the kiss, you were soon able to forget for a second why you were feeling gloomy in the first place. jake's lips hypnotized you along with his strong thrusts. jake didn't fuck you from the side that often, but whenever he did, you couldn't help but become completely lost in pleasure.

you whined out for him as your thigh trembled in his hand, making him chuckle sexily as he left wet kisses on your neck. it seemed as though you became overstimulated earlier whenever jake fucked you slow than if he were to be rough.

"is daddy making you feel good?" jake asked with an amorous tone as he watched you grip onto the sheets. "mhm," you nodded slowly, your legs trembling, "so good, daddy." you whimpered.

jake suddenly and slowly pulled himself out of you, rolling you into your elbows and knees as you arched your back for him. he let out a groan, turned on by the fact that you knew exactly what he wanted you to do for him.

jake's nails dug into the soft skin of your ass as he pushed his cock back inside your leaking pussy, your walls immediately tightening around his length.

jake wanted to keep his pace and fuck you slow, but he always found himself losing his self control when he would fuck you from behind. he subconsciously began to thrust into you harder, making you moan into the bedsheets. his hands traveled all over your back and torso as his tip poked your cervix.

"aw, we forgot to turn your poor little plushies' heads around," jake teased, "now they know how much of slut their mommy is, don't they?" he asked as he landed a hard spank on your ass. you let out a whimper in response while jake continued to please you from behind. "m-mhm, i'm daddy's slut," you mewled out subconsciously as jake slowed down his pace, ready to change positions again. chuckling at how cute you were being, he gently lifted you up and sat you next to him.

"get on top, princess," jake commanded with a gentle tone as he patted his lap. naturally, you followed his order: straddling his thighs before letting him reenter you.

slowly, you sunk back down onto his length, letting him stretch you out once again. jake grabbed onto your hips and helped you set a comfortable riding pace, helping you reach your high as you quietly mewled for him.

"that's right, baby," jake praised while you slowly began to bounce on his cock, "just like that. my good girl." he let his head fall back while he groaned and clawed at the soft skin of your ass.

"w-want daddy's cum," you whimpered as you looked at him with your pretty eyes, rolling your hips against his and trying to get him to reach his high.

"i know, princess. daddy's close, okay?" he reassured you breathlessly as he held your hips down, beginning to thrust into your pussy in order to poke at your sweet spot. "fuck," you whined out with a small squeak, "mmh, right there."

the two of you moaned in sync as you reached your highs. you felt jake's thighs tremble as he filled you up with his cum, a mixture of yours and his arousal ran down your inner thighs.

you got off of him then proceeded to rest on your side for a second; it didn't take long for you and jake to collect yourselves and clean each other up after the deed. you quickly got comfortable again, jake holding your waist from behind and cozying his chest against your back.

he let out a content hum as he held you close. you, on the other hand, were feeling a hodgepodge of emotions that you didn't even know if you could describe.

all you knew in this moment was that you still felt hurt; your heart beginning to twist itself in knots again as your head became clouded with the, very slim, possibility of jake leaving you. you were trying to drill into your head and convince yourself that you didn't want him, you wanted his money.

you suddenly felt yourself squeezing on his arm that was wrapped around you. squeezing and holding him as if you were trying to keep him in place; keeping him in place as if he was trying to leave you. soon, you felt your face become wet with tears that stared to subconsciously fall from your eyes. you didn't even know when you started crying, you just knew that you probably wouldn't be stopping any time soon.

jake already felt slightly alarmed at your sudden tight grasp on him, but a siren blared loudly in his head when he felt a tear roll off the soft skin of his arm.

"baby, what's wrong?" jake asked with concern while he held you close, gently helping you sit up so that you could breathe. you covered your face and sobbed into your hands. you physically could not hide your hurt feelings anymore, so you just let everything out right then and there.

why were you so emotional lately? it shouldn't even matter anymore, but why did it feel as if your world was crumbling over one, teeny tiny situation? why were you so sensitive over anything that had to do with jake?

jake wrapped his arms around you and began to gently rock you back and forth to try to comfort you as you cried. at this point, jake knew why you were crying. he knew that what he did really fucked you up, and it was eating him alive that you were still in pain over something he did. he had a feeling that you were hiding how you felt, but he didn't want to pry so he just left it alone.

"i-i'm s-sorry," you hiccuped as you frantically tried to dry your tears which only made jake's heart break even more knowing that you didn't think your emotions were valid, "i just n-need a s-second."

jake could feel pieces of him breaking when you calmly stood up to walk out of your bedroom, sniffling and hiccuping through tears and out the door, closing it to create physical space between the two of you.

'why am i even crying?' you internally scolded yourself as you walked into your bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. your eyes were red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears.

it's as if the more you tried to block out your emotions, the harder they came.

you looked over your shoulder to see your bedroom door begin to creak open, prompting you to quickly grab the door handle of the bathroom door and pull it shut.

the sound of the door being shut made jake feel a physical pain in his chest, now hyperaware of the still ongoing effect of when he lashed out on you.

the thin walls didn't make things any better; he could hear your sniffling sobs even through the closed door. still, he slowly approached the closed bathroom door. you could feel his footsteps on the ground where you sat with your back against the door. all you could do was bring your knees up to your chest and let yourself keep crying; you didn't have the energy to keep it in anymore. not even the embarrassment of showing your vulnerability to jake was enough to get you to shut up.

"y/n," you heard jake's soft accent through the thin wall, "baby, please don't lock yourself in there. please let me in." hearing his voice made you body stop everything that it was doing; a full-body reaction to the simple sound of his voice. did his voice make you feel everything or nothing at all?

you did want to let him in, yes, but you physically couldn't push yourself off the floor to open the door for him. "g-give me a s-second," you said for the second time tonight as you took deep breaths in attempt to gain a sense of calmness before facing him again. with a final deep breath, you managed to get yourself off the floor.

slowly opening the door, you were met with jake's tear-stained face and still watery puppy-dog eyes.

it was not-so silently established that you hated seeing each other cry once you practically fell into each other's arms, both emotional, crying messes. the scene was enough to make perry raise an eyebrow and wonder what the hell his owner was doing at this hour of the night.

"i promise i'll never do it again, my princess," jake declared with a quiet whisper, "i'll never raise my voice at the girl i care about the most ever again."

you felt a small chunk of your heart heal, but just for emotional safety, you vowed to try to push him away again.

well, maybe not a push. maybe just a nudge.

and the halloween party would be perfect for that, right?

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

a/n: hi gang, i'm finally back with another chapter! i've been working on lots of stuff lately, but expect another chapter this month :)

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[oceanic-sunsets]

hey, everyone! as you know, there has been an incredible increase of byler fics on ao3, and since it can be hard to find what do read or how to find what you're looking for, i thought i could contribute with my own list of fic recs. This is only part one, i'll keep updating as i read. Also, if you have any fic rec for me, please share them with me via ask or dms!

None of the fics in this list are rated Explicit.

The italics represent the fic summary. The comment underneath is my opinion.

...

a game of truths - RomeoWrites | 22.5k | canon compliant “Tell me something that you’ve never told me before.” OR Mike and Will play a game of truths. I loved how their relationship was portrayed here. The change between being so close, to suddenly not telling each other stuff and even lying, and then slowly trying to rebuild their friendship and trust. Their relationship developed beautifully. I wish i could read this again for the first time!

no end to this want - astrobi | 21.4k | canon compliant "Mike thinks back to the painting Will gave him, rolled up and placed carefully in his dresser drawer because for some reason it felt too wrong to hang it up on the walls with everything else. Too intimate. Like Will had made it for his eyes only. Or, apparently as everyone else thought, some mystery lover in California. And then he thinks about Will dozing off on his bed, and saying I think I’m in love with you all soft and slowed down from the inertia of sleep, and that’s right about when Mike starts to feel seriously lightheaded. He leans back against his bed and focuses very hard on taking deep, even breaths." Mike contemplates his feelings for Will Byers, partakes in a concerning amount of swooning, and learns to drive. Sort of. This was amazing. I love reading from Mike's pov because i wanna study his brain under a microscope. This fic takes you through the process of realizing his feelings while trying to mend his friendship with Will, and where he accidentally tells the party Will likes someone and they think it's some mysterious girl and it's hilarious. you're not gonna regret reading this one!

i'm tearing you asunder - smoosnoom (moonsooms) | 21k | canon compliant “Did I do something wrong?” Mike questions, mouth twisted in a frown, eyes less wide than they were a few moments ago, sleepiness gone. His arms stay at his sides, although his fingers fiddle with his sleeves. “What did I do wrong?” Will frowns back. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Mike doesn’t look like he believes him. Will doesn’t blame him. “Then why do you keep leaving?” The world ends, and then some. Mike and Will find each other again, amidst the debris and distance. I'm pretty sure a lot of you have already read this one, but i just have to include it. I love how, from Mike's perspective, Will is the one pulling away from him. We're so used to reading everything through his eyes, that sometimes we forget how confused Mike must feel. But then again, he fails to understand how sidelined Will has felt for a while. They misunderstand each other, which is hard after so many years of friendship and being so close. This fic takes us through the journey of them relearning how to trust each other and be vulnerable.

i’d love to see me from your point of view - unidentifiedblackthorn | 8k | canon compliant Now that Will’s sitting and Mike’s the one that’s standing, he looks impossibly tall. Tall and lanky, and huge. He should sit back down, Will thinks, lay back down next to Will and stay in their own secluded little bubble. “I really want to kiss you,” Mike says, and Will’s eyes snap back up to his so violently he thinks he hears his own neck crack with the force of it. “Don’t,” Will croaks, before his brain has even processed the words. “Don’t say that.” “Okay,” Mike says easily, still staring. And what the actual fuck is going on? Is Will hallucinating? Is the weed making him hallucinate? “So sausage and pepperoni?” Will stares dumbly at him. “Um - yeah. Yes.” “Cool,” Mike replies and then just turns around and leaves Will sitting dumbly in his own room. or Mike and Will get high on Jonathan’s weed and Mike has an amazing idea. Just as the summary says: basically Mike and Will get high and Mike makes a petition. This was hilarious, beautiful, and a little heartbreaking, you name it! it has everything. I just really love Mike in this one:)

darling, you got to let me know (should i stay or should i go?) - andiwriteordie | 11k | canon compliant (pre vol. 2) Nobody expects it to be Mike. Everyone is expecting it to be Max or Nancy, who both have already been targeted. Or maybe El, whose childhood in Hawkins Lab makes her the perfect target. Or Will, who has gone through more than enough trauma in the past three years alone for all of them. Nobody expects it to be Mike. Or, the one in which it's Mike, not Will, who Vecna targets. Mike gets vecna'ed, and we get to see what he's really going through. This was a great fic to read while we waited for vol. 2, but it's always going to be an amazing read! and honestly, everything this author writes is wonderful, i'm not including all of their fics only because i haven't read them all (yet).

what a goddamn kiss to think about - zadurn | 5k | i think au? unsure of the clasification here i'm sorry “Can I kiss you?” he asks. Hearing the words out loud makes everything feel that much more real, and Mike loves it. He thinks he might love Will, too, and the thought doesn’t feel new. It’s like a stone that’s half buried in the dirt but just got kicked loose. It’s something that’s been deep in Mike’s heart for a while, years, maybe, but just got unearthed. Will pushes him away, and Mike has no idea what he did wrong. He was just telling the truth. Friends don’t lie. “What?” Will asks, voice sounding kind of choked. He’s grimacing, and Mike wants to un-say whatever bad thing he said so that Will smiles at him again. “I— I asked if I could kiss you,” Mike says, and Will shushes him. He looks around frantically. “Mike,” Will replies. He sounds tired. “You can’t just ask that.” “Why not? I want to kiss you so I asked.” “But you don’t, Mike. You don’t want to… to kiss me. You’re just drunk.” – alternatively: mike pines while drunk, and then he pines while sober. Listen, i just really love pining!mike fics where he asks Will if he can kiss him and Will thinks it's not real because Mike is under the influence of some substance. This was such a fun read! the ending was beautiful!

when the dust settles - teafortozier | 4.8k | canon compliant When all is said and done, days later, when Hawkins is condemned and quarantined and the town evacuated, Wheelers and Byers divided between four motel rooms in the nearest town with any vacancies after the mass exodus from Hawkins—it’s just Mike and the painting. * The post-season 4 fix-it the Duffers are too cowardly to write. They have the very necessary talks where they address what should've been addressed in the show too. This is Mike's pov, which, at this point, is notable i love haha. One of my favorite fix-it fics, definitely!

why would you ever kiss me? - aghostlybreath | 51k (so far. ongoing.) | canon divergence When Eleven saves Will from Vecna she gets more than she bargained for when they wake up in the wrong bodies. Now to prevent Vecna from infiltrating the mind of his most perfect host the two of them must pretend to be the other. Will grapples with the feelings that he’s trying to push away. Mike wonders why it feels like he’s falling in love all over again. What will become of everything when Hawkins finally falls? In order to save Will from Vecna, El traps herself in his mind. What he doesn't know, is that this causes them to switch bodies. And on top of that, they can't tell anyone about their switch because Vecna would find out if he entered their mind. Soo, Will has to pretend to be El, and El has to pretend to be Will. And let me tell you, i can't stop thinking about this fic since i read it, seriously. This scenario makes possible to explore a lot of themes and situations! Will suddenly has to deal with having Mike's attention all the time, and El understands how it feels to be ignored/pushed away by someone you love. Willel is amazing here, too, they start bonding even more thanks to their particular situation. And Mike... Poor Mike, he's so confused and doesn't know what he's feeling and why. This fic has everything! it's funny at times, really sad and heartbreaking at others, clever, and makes you go through so many different emotions. Be aware it's still ongoing, but don't worry, it's usually quick to update!

Us against the world - wasabi8000 | 13k | canon compliant They were right, Mike really is oblivious. Which is why when he figures out Will likes him, his entire world is turned on its axis. Or Mike finally puts the pieces together. Chaos ensues. It's really common to have Mike be absolutely oblivious to what is happening with Will, but what would happen if he figured it out? he's a little clueless when it comes to feelings, but he's also smart. This fic explores that. A great read that differs a little from the most popular interpretation of "mike doesn't figure it out".

i think we're alone now - friendstolovers | 3.5k | canon divergence i think? "Whatever," Lucas shrugs. "You’re just jealous that you aren’t getting any.” Mike raises an eyebrow, like he knows something the rest of them don't. Will looks like he wants to drown him. He probably deserves it. In which Will has a love bite, the Party freaks out about it, and Mike is jealous of himself. Teens being teens, Mike being jealous and not being able to stop thinking about Will. The party being clueless as to what is really going on haha. It was a sweet and fun read! perfect for when you want to step away from angst for a bit and are looking for something more lighthearted.

Mike Wheeler is Doing Just Fine - AtomosphericNonsense | 5k | canon compliant Mike Wheeler is doing just fine. No. Really. He’s okay. He’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with him. Nothing to see here, just mind your own fucking business. AKA: local stressed and queer teen has a mental breakdown, yells at a lake, and then has several more breakdowns. This is a Mike character study, in which he has several meltdowns. Luckily, he has people who help him endure it. Steve and Robin are wonderful here!

the winner takes it all - andiwriteordie | 9k | canon compliant “Honestly, I bet they’ll end up dating at one point or another. I’ve just got a feeling.” “I’ll take that bet,” Steve says, voice filled with certainty. “Bet you ten bucks Wheeler and Byers are just friends and don’t get together.” Robin and Steve make a bet on whether Will and Mike will end up together. Naturally, chaos ensues. Just as established by the summary, Steve and Robin make a bet about whether Will and Mike will get together. Then it escalates, more people get involved, and the bet changes from if to when. Such a fun and entertaining read!

when will you accept yourself? - awhstrangerthings | 8k | canon compliant, but post s3 and pre s4. There was only one thing he and Robin Buckley had in common; they both were undeniable nerds. So he's a little confused when he walks into the Video Store, and Robin offers advice of all things. After many visits and conversations about life, relationships, who he is as a person— Mike realises why he's been so drawn to converse with Robin, and that there were two things they had in common after all. Over the course of a month, we see Mike Wheeler in a state of vulnerability that we've never seen him in before as he comes to terms with himself, his sexuality, and his feelings for a certain friend in California with the help of Robin. Or, Mike Wheeler and his blossoming friendship with Robin Buckley. We have quite a few fics of Robin befriending Will, which i love, but now think about this: Mike befriending Robin. Their friendship is truly everything!

head over heels - ashhaxkerman | 11k | canon compliant On their way to Hawkins, the group decides to stay at a motel for the night. Mike and Will get a moment alone to talk. In which Will's birthday is forgotten and Mike attempts to fix their friendship, which he realizes, is something so much more.

we could be heroes (just for one day) - buffymysavior | 8k | canon compliant (pre vol. 2) Will can’t help but feel a sense of dread as Jonathan speeds past the familiar “Welcome to Hawkins” sign, the cold air pouring in through the windows and making the back of his neck prickle in a way it hasn’t since he’d left town. The past week had been…unexpected, to say the least. At the most, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he would give Mike the painting currently sticking out of the front of his backpack and that Mike would suddenly remember how much Will meant to him, and then things could go back to how they were supposed to be, and maybe Will could write off the past year of loneliness and self-pity as overthinking and nothing more. Instead, he found himself spending the week in the back of a pizza truck that had at one point housed a dead body, and when they weren’t in danger of getting shot by rogue government agents, he was trying to ignore the butterflies Mike Wheeler gave him whenever he smiled at him like it meant something. This fic written by my friend! Will gets vecna'ed, and Mike has some realizations. Although it doesn't follow vol. 2 events because it was written before, it deserves a read! It's both heartbreaking and sweet:) Also, you can pretend Mike's monologue here is the real one, instead of the one we got in the show haha.

Unbreakable Connection - Tea_For_One_Please | 20k | Soulmates AU At midnight on everyone's sixteenth birthday, they receive a connection of some kind with their soulmate. Some are connected by strings. Some have contact marks, a shadow of the first time their soulmate touches them. For some, the first words their soulmate says to them appears on their skin. Some find objects that their soulmate has misplaced. On the night of Will Byers' sixteenth birthday, he hears a little voice in his head. But whom does the voice belong to? Will he ever get to meet the mysterious "Gabriel"? This is the first AU on this list! I'm usually drawn to canonverse fics, but this caught my attention and i don't regret reading at all! It was great and their bond was portrayed in a unique way. Definitely worth a read!

Expect part 2 soon, as i'm consuming fics as if my life depended on it!

#byler #byler fics #byler fic rec #fic rec #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #seriously making this list i realized how much i love mike's pov #i just wanna read his mind and study every thought.... #i love him #writers please never stop posting fics from mike's pov #i need more #im serious if y'all have Mike's pov fics recs please send them to me #RIGHT NOW

[murdocking]

„ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ”

- a chishiya series. ch6 ch8

masterlist

warnings+notes: im so sorry for such a late update😭honestly i had such a hard time writing this chapter… its really bland and i was so unsure of where to go with this all and it seems to be overly detailed. but whatever!!! enjoy lol

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

- RECRUIT

as your days in the beach progressed- kuina and chishiya have become your main sources of companionship, though you realize there’s quite a long way to go before you could be true friends. individually , it’s obvious you each have your own walls up- but it doesn’t stop kuina from encouraging you to join the carefree attitude that rampages through the beach. at night, she drops jokes about getting you a one-night stand with some of the (very) eager beach members- to which you scowl and shove her slightly as she chuckles. you can tell she’s a bit serious though. you decide to confide in another short glass of liquor instead- immersing yourself into the busy party scene outside as you lay back in a chair. kuina kicks off her flip flops- sighing as she rolls her shoulders back, mumbling something to you.

“what was that?”

she flinches a bit, but speaks again hesitantly “i just remembered chishiya wanted to speak to you..”

you nod, handing her your drink- and looking for your coverup, which you have found has landed somewhere in the middle of the pool.

“ugh.” you decide you’ll just head to your room after talking with chishiya, thanking kuina for letting you know

“where exactly am i going?” you say- and kuina puts her finger up to signal ‘wait a second’ as she downs the rest of your drink.

“conference room on your floor.” you begin to lazily walk over to the room

chishiya is getting annoyed.

he’s been waiting for over an hour since kuina left the room- claiming she would retrieve you. it’s past midnight now and he knows his time could be better spent fixing up his bootlegged weapons in his personal room. he’s irritated- and just begins packing up the book in his hands and unraveling his headphones. it’s as he puts the earbuds in- that the door cracks open, with a “chishiya?” as quiet as the wind.

he can feel his ear twitch- and he views you from the corner of his eye, smoothly turning as he returns his earbuds back to his pocket, slyly smiling at you.

“well it’s about time. were you just avoiding me? he jests, but you worry he secretly may have gotten such an intention and quickly speak to clear the air.

“w-what? no of course not- kuina was with me downstairs i was just trying t-“ he’s walked up to you now, eyeing you from under his dark lashes and smudged liner and cuts you off

“im just joking.” once he sees you take a breath of relief- he gets to the point. “i wanted to talk to you about the beach. do you like it here, truthfully?” this intrigues you, afterall- chishiya himself brought you to the community. you scrunch your brows- and he watches you process his question.

“i guess i dont mind it too much… but” you pause, and he notices the slightest quickening of your breath- eyes flickering to your chest.

“i dont like living… with all this anxiety about the militia… they all seem like they’ll snap at any moment” you speak lowly- as though the party downstairs could hear the treacherous words you exchange with chishiya. he hums, looking back up at your face with intensity.

“i’m going to leave the beach.”

his words threaten a gasp from you- this is traitor speech, punishable by every idea of torture hatter has ever thought of. “chishiya- what? how would you even pull that off- alive at that!” you whisper yell to him, and he has already turned his back to you to collect his things- ignoring your protests slightly.

“dont act like you wouldn’t join me.”

his words cause a silence.

its almost too intimate now, and despite you only knowing chishiya shortly- it ignites a fire of adrenaline inside of your bones as he watches you from his crouched place.

you try to talk- but he beats you to it. “kuina has already begun preparations.”

you blink for a second or two- wiping off the frazzled expression that sat there previously, realizing once again that there was a different person who actually conspired and knew chishiya better than you did. you bite your tongue, and just nod a bit ashamed.

“okay.”

“okay?”

“okay… tell me what’s the plan.”

chishiya feels a sour taste in his mouth- despite his clear joy on his usually stoic face at your reply.

he explains to you his elaborate idea- but you feel a sickening sense that he’s not telling you everything there is to know. and thats because he isn’t telling you it all. not even kuina knows he’s luring you into his own personal trap- you’ll be the one to investigate hatter’s personal room and get the cards. but chishiya knows better than to tell you it all, and decides its better not to dwell on the ‘what ifs’ of the plan.

its quiet- you can hardly process what he’s telling you, and you can feel the heavy pressure of the moment aggressively sit ontop of your shoulders while he observes your blank expression.

“where…” you begin but stop

“what is it?”

something about the question you wish to ask feels as though it crosses a boundary, you are barely acquaintances- yet it feels as though chishiya has been the one holding your hand throughout your life in the new world.

you clear your throat. “where would we go?”

he seems a bit shocked, and you know he understands your internal turmoil and hesitance towards asking the question. to chishiya, kuina and him would most likely have split- possibly meeting again during sporadic games. but the “we” implies you want to stick by him- and he admits, he wants to encourage the idea of that more than he’d like.

again- you feel the intimacy of being alone with chishiya, quiet exchanges in the dim lighting. chishiyas conflicted- but he decides not to relish on the idea that there would be a chance to get to know you better. his whole idea banks on you risking your life- even if you meet your end a bit too early. he feels nauseous, and suddenly can see every hair and pore on your arms- his eyes dilate and scan over your frame that is completed with a short frown. he doesnt lose notice on how you’ve found comfort in digging your fingers into the plush chair beside you in the middle of the room- and how he can feel his adams apple bump dryly against the rest of his throat.

“i dont know.”

the answer isnt truly good enough for you, because you know chishiya is random- and goes with the wind. but you also know he’s a planner, and if you’re supposedly a vital part of this- he would know the aftermath.

it makes you sick, but you tell him quietly that you agree to join him.

afterwards, you wash up- careful to treat your injury with grace, remembering chishiya’s guidance for recovery. faintly in your mind, you still feel his fingers dancing on your leg- eliciting sparks of joy between you both. normally, you’d feel stiff and disgusted, but the memory has a sort of fondness you would never think to associate with chishiya.

for him however, you’re beginning to be his own personal catalyst. chishiya cannot handle the variables you bring to the table- your support is an asset, but is starting to be his weakness. kuina and him are strictly business- sure they provide the other with company, but it is all surface level. however, with you- chishiya isn’t sure how to process your presence. hes bubbling over with guilt- but he cant help his admiration for you, it overwhelms him.

since that night, you’ve experienced another game- enduring a 2 hour agonizing experience with gross eyes on you from perverts, and sleek eyes and glasses from the #2 at the beach. only 4 survived out of 9- and you can feel burn marks and scratches coloring your body- one resting just beside your nose. that night, you properly met arisu- and reunited with the king hearted girl who calmed you after your game together, usagi. you didnt fail to notice how chishiya lingered his gaze on arisu- even from his high perch on the floor above the hallway you stood in with the two.

unbeknownst to you however- he stares at you longer. wondering if you’ve caught on with the way you’ve distanced from him slightly. he doesn’t like it, and he can’t risk that you’ve lost interest in committing to his plans. he decides to swiftly go downstairs to intervene the group of three beneath him, greeting them with a playful wave as he assumes a position beside you- causing your goosebumps to rise.

arisu continues to speak shyly and stiffly- enjoying when usagi controls the conversation that flows between you all. at some point- usagi catches on to the fact that chishiya does not actually want to speak to the entire group- but rather just you. with this- she just awkwardly laughs and bids you farewell

“oh i dont wanna keep you long- plus arisu and i need some food and just… look around here you know?” she says- and you agree

“oh of course! i’m sorry if you were trying to leave earlier- i get ahead of myself sometimes.” she just giggles before telling you it’s no problem- and soon after, she’s halfway down the hall with arisu on her tail.

it takes him a minute to say something in the silent hall, but chishiya turns to you smoothly “wanna walk around?”

you’re honestly bored- and up until recently, you’ve enjoyed your conversations with the blonde. he guides you back up the stairs- where the music gets almost fully silenced, and waits for you to initiate a conversation.

but you never do

and chishiya is starting to feel a bit on edge, frankly a bit awkward. the feeling is foreign to him- his mind has run rampant thinking about your last discussion.

you carry on- walking on the seemingly never ending staircase and ignoring the way chishiya’s back is overly straightened.

“what’s up?” you say, much to his relief. he stops, leaning against the wall of the staircase as you halt your steps. “are you having doubts?”

you can feel your brows scrunching at his question, and though you feel nausea whenever you think about betraying the beach- you cant bring yourself to admit it to chishiya.

“no. why would i?”

“youre lying to me.” hes quick, and sharp- and it makes your breathing cut short.

“im not”

“youre lying again.”

a beat passes, and then another. then you reply

“we’re down to almost no games, its been too quiet here. somethings wrong.” you’re deflecting, he knows it.

“and?”

“and,” you can hardly breathe “i know you’re lying to me.”

chishiya doesn’t miss the way your eyes plead with him, begging him to say ‘of course not! i would never do that to you’. but chishiya knows he can’t say those words, not to you.

so he makes a different decision- to him, this is the only way he can feel at ease.

“i don’t want you participating in this anymore.”

now you’re confused, wasn’t he just adamant about being involved in this together? “chishiya-“

“i think it would be better for us all if we limited our interactions. i have to focus on perfecting details, i cant have you getting in my way.” he speaks harshly. you can feel something inside of you getting rotten, molding and making you sick when you look at chishiya- who now gazes at you dismissively.

watching you, he knows he has potentially made an incredible mistake- but he doesn’t want to risk you if you were to die to the hands of the militants. he has seen arisu perform in complex scenarios, analyzing his problem solving skills and reaction time- and he has no issue with recruiting him as your replacement.

but he has an issue with the way you’re beginning to pale, and how your eyes shift to darkness as you look at him differently within seconds of him speaking.

“can i ask why?”

he doesn’t even know what he can scrape up as an excuse

“did i, cross a line with you?” you say, and your voice seems so small he could confuse it for a distant bird song.

“no” he speaks- sharing the same quiet and frail tone as you.

its so unlike him

“then why are you making such a haste decision i dont get it..!” despite your loud tone, chishiya doesnt flinch- rather he briefly looks at the surroundings before continuing

“it’s not haste. i should’ve never told you about this in the first pla-“

“why? so you could just leave me here while you and kuina get to run off into the sunset?”

“what does that even mean.”

“it means you don’t care if i were to die! it wouldn’t matter to you because you’d just shrug it off and go be a smartass somewhere else.”

he just looks at you solemnly while you come back to earth from your heated reply

“of course i would care.”

its simple, but it hits so hard

“then why are you pushing me away?”

“because arisu is better suited for this than you could be.”

you back up slightly, shuddering when you feel the cool wall

“i see.”

he shoves his hands into his pocket, gripping onto the lining to stabilize the trembling

“this is merely strategy. hes sharp. quiet, and he has some connections that i can use to our advantage.” somehow you know, when chishiya says ‘our’, he is not referring to you and him

you just nod, and finally accept the truth he serves to you.

“i hope you’re making the right decision chishiya.”

“i always do y/n.”

he feels his breath quicken while he walks downstairs past your silent figure- needing his room to expose his panic in isolation.

#chishiya x reader #alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #alice in borderland x reader #arisu alice in borderland #chishiya fanfic #niragi alice in borderland #shuntarou chishiya x reader #aib x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #kuina alice in borderland #usagi alice in borderland #chishiya angst #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya fluff #eventual smut #slow burn #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x you

[venusthepirate]

like any unloved thing part five : blood and soft touches

Masterlist / ao3 / part one / part two / part three / part four

Taglist : @avocado-writing @little-sunflower-bug @evangelineflowers @humbug5 @yume904 @sarcastic-sourwolf @chloeforde @illusionsnfantasies @cupofstarss @mystic-mara @staceysmomsposts @thatcharmingmushroom @www-interludeshadow-com @gingersass 

I am so sorry for the late update ! I meant to write this chapter way earlier than this but I was exhausted and couldn’t find the energy :( but now that it’s the holidays I’ll be able to update more ! Here’s a long chapter to make up for the long wait, I hope you’ll like it ! 

Tangerine stares at her, eyes slowly taking her in, before flicking towards the dead man lying in a pool of blood.

Fawn raises a warning hand towards him. Her fingers are shaking.

“Don’t call the police”, she tells him.

He looks at her hand, and she realizes she is pointing at him with the bloody knife. She lowers it, breathing out shakily.

“Just- just don’t call the police.”

Tangerine doesn’t say anything. That is even worse. He walks closer to her, but doesn’t stop, passing next to her and finally stopping once he was in front of the body. His shoes make a slight splash noise when he steps into the blood.

He doesn’t even bat an eye. He simply pushes his foot against the man’s shoulder, nudging him until the body rolls on its back. Fawn watches, unable to say anything, fearing it would just make everything worse. She watches as the dead man’s face stares back at her, covered in crimson, vague eyes lost in the distance.

“Who is that ?” Tangerine finally asks.

Fawn looks up at him in surprise.

“William something”, she replies, desperately trying to remember. “William… William Hall.”

Tangerine seems satisfied with her answer, nodding, before fishing his phone out of the inside pocket of his suit. Fawn stares at him, bewildered, as he starts typing something in it, before bringing it to his ear.

“Yeah, it’s me. There’s a… bit of a situation. Can you make sure no one goes into the left wing of this place ?” There’s an answer on the other side, but Fawn is too far to make out what the person is saying. “Fuck off, I didn’t do anything. I fuckin’ didn’t, Jesus, get off my back. I’ll explain later.”

He hangs up then, looking annoyed. She stares at him. Through her whirlwind of thoughts, she notices specks of blood on the collar of his shirt. There is no way he got that just now, and there is no way he put this suit on with the stains already there. He’s always pristinely clothed. She thinks, distantly, that the blood wasn’t there when he talked to her in the bathroom.

Fawn is starting to think this is all a dream. Here she is, kneeling in a fucking pool of blood, covered in it from head to toe, and one of her clients is standing next to her, acting completely normal, as if this is nothing more than a regular Tuesday or something. She is going crazy. There’s no other rational explanation.

“Fawn”, Tangerine says, snapping her out of her trance. By his expression, it must have been a few times since he called her name. She stares up at him, wide-eyed. He’s extending a hand towards her. “Fawn, give me the knife.”

She feels her fingers tighten around the handle, despite it being sticky with blood. It’s a weapon of crime. She should get rid of it, she knows it. But it’s her knife, and she doesn’t feel like she can give away her only mean of defense to a man she doesn’t know if she can really trust.

“Give me the knife, Fawn”, he repeats. There’s something behind his eyes, something she’s never seen before. She realizes, with startling clarity, that she has no idea who he really is. He might as well be a stranger to her. “Fawn, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to call the police, but you need to give me the knife.”

“What do you do for a living, Tangerine ?” She asks him. He seems stricken by her question, something in his face twitching.

“I’ll tell you, alright ? I’ll tell you later. But you gotta let me help you with that mess first.”

Her chest is constricting around her lungs. She has no choice but to trust him.

She gives him the knife, dropping it in his extended hand. She feels like someone tore a limb away from her. Her palm is wet with blood.

The knife disappears in a flash inside Tangerine’s suit jacket. He offers her his hand another time, and it takes a second for Fawn to understand he means to help her stand up. She takes it, and he heaves her up, pulling her away from the body and the fucking… crime scene.

“Here”, he says. He’s giving her a white handkerchief out of his breast pocket, and her bag which had fallen on the ground in the scuffle. “Try wiping the blood off your face, alright ?”

She nods, numbly, taking everything he’s giving her. She wants to say that it seems rather useless, seeing as her dress is also covered in blood, and there’s no way she’s going to succeed in wiping the blood off of it, but he seems to know what he’s doing. That isn’t exactly reassuring in itself, but Fawn prefers not to contradict him.

Tangerine turns back towards the body.

“Right”, he says, raking a hand through his hair, which is becoming messier and messier. “Fuck, alright.”

He strides towards the windows, takes hold of the huge, heavy corduroy curtains hanging from the ceiling, and with one sharp, quick pull, he tears them down from the hangers. He doesn’t waste any time, and starts covering the body with them.

In a total of ten minutes, the body is tightly wrapped, and he’s managed to wipe most of the blood off the floor, dragging a carpet to cover the rest of it. He turns back towards Fawn, smoothing his hair back again, and breathes in deeply. He’s loosened up his tie around his throat. He looks a bit… Disheveled.

Fawn is still trying to scrub the blood off her hands. She thinks she’s managed to get most of it off her face and throat.

Tangerine steps in front of her.

“C’mon, give me that”, he tells her, taking the handkerchief from her. She lets him, watching his face intensely as he brushes the fabric against her cheek, under her eye, and then on the side of her throat. She swallows around the lump in her throat. She’s not used to this. The roles are… Inverted now. She was the one who did that for him, took care of him. She doesn’t know what to do with that sudden reversal.

She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly focusing on this, when there’s the fucking body of the man she just killed lying a few feet away from them.

Tangerine’s eyes are very focused on his task. When he’s done, they flick up to hers, and he stills, fingers still pressed against her throat. Even in the dark, Fawn can still see how blue they are.

She feels like she can’t breathe, all of sudden. Everything is too much.

“You’re hurt”, Tangerine finally speaks, voice low. Fawn looks up at him, surprised, and brings a hand to her mouth. Her bottom lip is split, and her head is starting to hurt.

“He… he hit me. I think. I-I don’t really remember.”

Something dangerous passes through his eyes.

“C’mon, we need to move the body”, Tangerine says, turning away. “There’s a cupboard we can put it inside.”

She nods, heart stuttering inside her chest. Tangerine steps away from her, and she feels bereft, as if he just took all the warmth away. Her body is trembling, her bare shoulders covered in goosebumps. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s cold, or because of the adrenaline of everything coming down.

Tangerine grabs the wrapped body by the shoulders, and she grabs his legs. They shuffle it towards the cupboard Tangerine pointed at, heaving it inside. Tangerine closes the door, and then pulls a sheet out of his suit jacket. Fawn realizes, with surprise, that it’s a sticker sheet, when he peels one off and sticks it on the handle of the cupboard door. She manages to glimpse what looks like a train, before he’s grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

“I need you to stay here, alright ? I’m going to get you a coat, and then we’ll get out of here.”

Fawn nods. She doesn’t feel like she can talk. She’s afraid if she tries, she’ll realize she no longer has a voice.

Tangerine’s eyes search her face for a second. There’s something akin to concern in his expression. Fawn doesn’t know what to say to assure him she’ll be alright.

He pulls from her then, and quickly strides away, disappearing around the corner. Fawn leans back against the wall, and lets herself slide down to the ground, pressing her knees against her chest. She glances at the place where the body and the blood had been. Looking at it now, it seems like nothing happened. Just a regular corridor. Not a crime scene.

“Fuck”, she murmurs, pressing her fingers against her eyelids. She tries to breathe in deeply, desperately trying to remember her breathing exercises back when she did yoga and meditation. What was it that the teacher always said ? Fucking peace inside your mind, or whatever. Inhale during four seconds, hold during seven, and breathe out during eight. She wants to cry, but her eyes are completely dry.

She killed a man.

She’s not sorry about it. She’s not sorry about him. She’s just sorry about her.

After what feels like hours, or maybe only a second, she hears the sound of footsteps echoing against the marble floor, coming closer. She opens her eyes, looking up as Tangerine appears again. He’s holding a heavy fur coat. He helps her to her feet, and helps shrug the coat on her shoulders. The thing is very warm, and long, completely covering her blood-stained dress.

“Where did you find this ?” She asks.

“Nicked it from the lockers”, he replies, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

She lets him guide her through another set of corridors, a flight of stairs. She doesn’t know where they’re going, but they must have taken another entrance than the main one reserved for the guests, because soon enough they find themselves outside, in a back alley behind the building.

“My car’s this way”, Tangerine tells her, already pulling her

“Wait, wait”, Fawn stops him. He frowns, turning back towards her. “My client, I… What about him ? He must be waiting for me. He’ll think it strange that I didn’t come back, if he talks…”

“Yeah, no, don’t worry about him, love. He won’t be saying shit.”

Fawn stares at him. She doesn’t need to ask. She thinks she already knows.

She gets inside his car, in the passenger seat. He rounds the car and slips behind the wheel. The car is nice, warm. The kind that only people who can really afford it like to buy.

Tangerine starts the car, and soon enough the building disappears away from their sight. Fawn feels like a weight should have been lifted off her shoulders. She doesn’t know if it has.

She spies on Tangerine from the corner of her eyes. He’s focused on the road, hands around the wheel, rings sometimes glinting when they catch the light of the city outside.

He’s a dangerous man. He just helped her hide a body. He may have killed her client, and she doesn’t know if it’s because of her or not. And here she is, in a car with him, without any means to defend herself. She doesn’t even know where they’re going. Fuck.

“You’ve killed people”, she finally says. “It’s… It’s what you do. You kill people.”

Tangerine doesn’t look at her, but something in his jaw ticks.

“Yeah”, he answers.

Fawn looks away, staring out of the window. The city lights blur into each other.

“Do you work for the mob ?” She asks him.

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m a… An outside contractor, you can say. Me and my brother.”

She looks back at him at that. His brother. It seems so ridiculous that she almost wants to laugh. She understands the code names now.

“How did you find me ?”

He frowns, glancing briefly at her. “What do you mean ?”

“In the… The corridor”, the murder, she almost wants to say, but she doesn’t. “How did you find me ?”

He seems embarrassed then. “I was… Right, I was looking for you, alright ? I wanted to apologize. Again.”

He rubs at his neck. Fawn stares at him.

“You’re truly shit at apologies, though, I hope you know that.”

He glares at her.

“Yeah, well, you’re fucking shite at accepting them.”

“You called me a bitch.”

He looks exasperated.

“I’m sorry, alright ? I don’t usually do… Fucking apologies. I didn’t mean to call you that.”

Fawn nods.

“Hey, you alright ?” Tangerine asks, sounding worried.

She presses her fists into her eyelids.

“I don’t know”, she murmurs. “I feel like I should be more… I feel like I’m okay, but that I shouldn’t. I… I’m not sorry I killed him. He was a fucking asshole. I’m glad he’s dead. It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Yeah, don’t feel bad about this piece of shit”, Tangerine says. His voice is low, dangerous, his fingers tightening around the wheel. He’s looking straight ahead. “The way I see it, you made the world a favor by getting rid of him. You even made him a favor. If you hadn’t killed him, I probably would’ve, and it wouldn’t have been as quick as a knife in the throat.”

Fawn swallows around the sudden lump in her throat.

“Where did the knife come from ?” Tangerine asks her, after a moment of silence.

“It’s mine. I always have it with me.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Always ?”

“Yeah. Can I get it back ?”

Tangerine tsks.

“Don’t think keeping the murder weapon with you would be the smart move, love.” He glances at her again. “I’ll get you a new one, yeah ? Part of the… apology. Or whatever.”

Fawn snorts, in spite of herself. She slumps a bit further into the leather seat, wrapping the fur coat around her shoulders tightly. Everything is… Coming down, all of sudden. Her shoulders ache with the stress and fear of holding herself, and the headache is pulsing hot, white pain at the back of her eyes. She wants nothing more than a hot, long shower, and to fall asleep in a soft bed.

“Where are we going ?” She asks him, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the car window, relishing in the way the cold touch cools her head.

“I have a place”, he replies. “It’ll be safer if you stay low for now. I’ll drive you back home tomorrow.”

Silence falls back again between them, and it isn’t long before Tangerine finally slows down, parking the car in a very quiet and nice neighborhood. Nicer than anything Fawn could ever afford.

She follows Tangerine out of the car and into one of the buildings. The interior is nice, with a huge mirror in the entrance hall. Fawn can finally spy a look at her reflection, and Jesus, she looks terrible. There’s a bruise on her forehead and beneath her eye. Her lip has been split open, her hair is in complete disarray. At least the coat hides the sorry state of her dress. Next to her, Tangerine looks like some fucking angel. His suit is a bit wrinkled, and his hair has broken away from the way he slicks them back, but at least he isn’t covered in blood.

They ride the elevator up to the last floor, and then he’s opening the door for her. She steps inside, cautious, looks around herself. The place is huge, with high windows overlooking the city. When Tangerine flicks the lights on behind her, she notices potted plants on one of the small piece of furniture at the entrance. She brushes a finger against a leaf. It’s just plastic.

“Yeah, my brother, he insists on having plants around”, Tangerine tells her. “Says it’s good for the air and the oxygen or some shit like that.”

“It’s fake, though”, Fawn points out. “It doesn’t produce any oxygen. It’s just plastic.”

Tangerine sighs. “Yeah, don’t ask me. He tried with real plants, but they kept dying because we never had time to take care of them, so.”

It’s so fucking ridiculous that Fawn almost laughs out loud. She bites her lips to suppress the laughter. She thinks she would sound hysteric. She doesn’t know if she’ll actually laugh or if she’ll just start crying.

“C’mon, I’ll show you around”, Tangerine says, pulling her gently by the shoulder. “This is my room. This is my brother’s – don’t go in there, by the way. And this is the guest room. There’s a shower in it if you want.” He strides towards the wardrobe, and pulls out a tee-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, before handing them to her. “Might be too big for you, but it’s the only clothes I got.”

“Thanks”, Fawn murmurs, holding the clothes to her chest.

He seems to hesitate for a moment.

“Right, I’ll leave you to it”, he finally says. “I’ll patch you up after you’re done, alright ?”

He leaves the room after that, not waiting for an answer. Fawn stays standing in the middle of the room, unsure.

The bathroom is even more impressive than the rest of the apartment. Well, fuck. Being a… an assassin. Outside contractor, whatever Tangerine said he was, seems to pay a fucking lot.

She strips down, letting the stained dress fall to the floor, and steps inside the shower. The water pressure is heavenly against her skin. She puts the temperature as high as she can bear, the warmth melting away the fear.

When she glances down, the water around her feet has turned red. She stays in the shower until the water becomes clear again. Then, she scrubs herself with soap until she’s sure she’s managed to wipe away any remaining blood off her skin.

The glass is covered in fog. She traces little smiley faces through it with her finger.

There’s something raw inside her chest. She feels like someone peeled her open and left her gaping, completely on display. Vulnerable.

She turns the water off, steps outside the shower, and wraps herself in the softest towel she can find. It reminds her, for a second, of the moments she spent inside the hotel after Tangerine left, taking advantage of the bathtub and the fluffy bathrobes.

The clothes Tangerine gave her fit, but only barely. The legs of the sweatpants pool around her ankles, and the tee shirt falls down mid-thighs, but both are soft against her skin. She manages to fit the sweatpants around her hips so they don’t do something embarrassing like fall. Then, she leaves the quiet safety of the room.

Tangerine is the kitchen, sitting behind the counter, typing away on his phone. There’s a first-aid kid next to him.

He looks up when she pads into the room, bare feet. His eyes flick up and down her body, as if he’s taking her in.

“Feeling any better ?” He asks, putting his phone down and clearing his throat.

“Yeah, a bit”, Fawn replies, quiet. He nods, patting the stool beside him.

“Come on. I gotta take a look at your injuries.”

Fawn obeys, sitting down. He hooks his foot around the leg of her stool and slides her closer to him until their knees bump into each other. He grabs a cotton from the first-aid kid and dabs it with disinfectant, before facing her.

He brings the cotton to her mouth, gently pressing it against her split lip, and even with his carefulness Fawn can’t help but hiss a bit at the sting.

“Sorry”, Tangerine murmurs, contrite, and moves on to the small cut on her forehead. “These are going to be huge bruises, but at least you don’t have a concussion.”

“Right”, Fawn says, nodding. He lowers the cotton and puts it down on the counter, but he doesn’t pull away from her. She holds her breath. They’re really close, thighs brushing.

His blue eyes search hers, as if he’s looking for something. She doesn’t know what.

“I can make you tea, if you want”, he finally tells her, breaking contact and standing up.

“Sure, okay.”

He nods and busies himself with putting water in the kettle and pulling mugs out of the cupboard.

“Body’s been taken care of, by the way”, Tangerine says, his back turned to her. “Won’t be found, nothing that can be traced back to you.”

Fawn swallow around the lump in her throat.

“So… that’s it. I just go back to my life, like nothing happened.”

“I would lay low for a bit if I were you. Hide all the bruising, or people will start asking questions”, Tangerine replies, pouring the hot water in the mugs. “But yeah, apart from that, just… continue like nothing happened.”

“Something happened, though.” She looks down at her hands, and swears, for a second, that she can still see the blood coating them.

“I thought you were glad he died”, Tangerine says, handing her a mug. She accepts it, cradling it into her palms, welcoming the warmth against her skin.

“I am”, Fawn murmurs. “That’s what’s freaking me out. The fact that I’m not… as freaked out as I think I should be. I just killed someone. I should feel worse than this, shouldn’t I ?”

“There’s no should, you know. I mean, there’s not a fucking… manual on how to feel after killing someone. Society says we should feel bad and awful and all that fucking bollocks. And to be honest, love, look, you protected yourself, and probably a bunch of other people by killing that creep. You’re not some cold-blooded killer.”

“Not like you”, Fawn says, in spite of herself.

Tangerine’s lips curl up into some sort of unhappy smile.

“No, not like me.”

Fawn watches him as he takes a sip of his tea.

“When was your first ?”

He glances up at her. His rings clink slightly against the mug.

“I was sixteen”, he replies. “Some fucking asshole who was friend with my foster dad. Used to come around and get black-out drunk. Hit my brother once.”

Fawn doesn’t say anything. She stares down at her tea, trying to wrap her head around all of this.

“You should go get some sleep”, Tangerine finally says. “I’ll drive you back in the morning.”

Fawn nods, standing up.

“Good night”, she murmurs, and heads to the guest room, gently closing the door behind her.

She flicks the lights off and slides beneath the sheets. Tries closing her eyes, doing the breathing exercises.

Earlier she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a bed and sleep. Now, she’s laid down, and she just can’t. She can feel how exhausting she is, but her brain and body seemingly don’t want to give up.

Months of knowing Tangerine, never learning anything about him or what he did, and in one single night…

Well, now she knows.

It is exactly what she feared. It is even worse, in fact. There’s a reason she’s never asked, and a reason Tangerine never told her anything. What’s going to happen now ? He’s just going to let her go, despite now having this knowledge?

She could go to the police. Surely, he knows that. She could go to them and tell them he’s a killer. Except, she doesn’t even know his real name.

Except, if she goes to the police, then he can tell them everything too. He can tell them she killed someone. He has her knife. She doesn’t know if the body’s truly gone. If he goes down, she goes down too.

Mutually assured destruction, right ? Or whatever the fuck it’s called. It’s smart. An efficient way to ensure nothing goes to shit.

Fawn doesn’t even know why she’s entertaining this line of thinking. She knows, deep down, that she would never go to the police.

Tangerine said he would drive her back in the morning. In movies, when people learn that the other kills people, they usually don’t let them live.

Would he kill her ?

He patched up, though. Gave her clothes, made her tea, told her about him. He helped her with the body. He could have just… left, when he saw her, called the police and let her deal with it alone.

Her mind is a whirlwind, a complete mess of thoughts and feelings. She wants to bash her head against the wall. She just wants to sleep.

She throws the sheets off, and stands up. She goes to the bathroom, drinks water from the tap. Breathes in deeply. In and out.

Before she can doubt herself, her feet take care out of the guest room. She stops in front of Tangerine’s, and gently opens the door.  

He’s sprawled on the bed, on his back, one arm beneath his head. Despite the darkness of the room, she can still make out his features, thanks to the city lights. She pads further inside, until she’s standing at the edge of the bed.

“Hey”, she murmurs.

He blinks slowly at her.

“Can’t sleep ?” He asks, voice laced with sleep. She wonders how he does it, how he could fall asleep after everything that just happened. But again, this isn’t his first time.

She shakes her head.

“Can I ?”

He nods, lifting the covers and scooting a bit aside to leave her space. Fawn slips beneath the covers next to him. The bed is very warm.

She touches his face, lightly, his cheek, before cupping his nape. He makes a soft noise, leaning against her touch, pressing a bit more against her. She’s surprised, at how easy they fit into each other, even despite the weeks apart.

She holds him, and he holds her back. She swears, for a second, that she can feel him trembling slightly. Or perhaps it’s her. She doesn’t know anymore, where he’s beginning and where she’s ending.

“I’m sorry”, she whispers. “For what happened.”

He hums, voice low inside his throat, and presses his face against her neck. His breath fans against her, his moustache tickling her skin. She holds him against her. Just holds him, as if they’re back in the hotel room, and he’s simply the client asking for affection and cuddles, and she’s the hooker he’s paying for.

She knows they’re not anymore. She doesn’t really know what they are now, but she doesn’t want to ask. She just closes her eyes, fingers gently rubbing at the back of his neck. She doesn’t remember falling asleep.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x oc #tangerine bullet train #bullet train fic #bullet train tangerine #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #lemon and tangerine #bullet train fanfic

[butterflydm]

wot rewatch 1x5: blood calls blood

spoilers through season 1 of WoT plus some of the spoilers for the beginning of s2, including the new teaser scene, and through The Fires of Heaven in the books.

I love the bookends here of the two funerals. Just... all of the added rituals make the cultures and world feel more rich and grounded. The ceremonies and how they're tied into the world that we're given. Plus, we see the impact of these rituals on the characters -- Lan and Moiraine here reacting to seeing Stepin's emptiness after they lay Kerene to rest.

Then we get our traveling time-skip, where everyone begins to arrive in/near Tar Valon. I wonder if Moiraine not seeing the White Tower as home is going to be contrasted against Egwene primarily seeing the White Tower as her home after she's been taken away from it.

Poor Mat is looking rough. And him snapping at a kid shows how much worse he's gotten in the last month, along with Rand's clear concern. We also basically confirm that they've been sleeping rough since they left the Grinwell farm, likely worried that they would bring death to anyone else who might host them.

Love the shots of Dragonmount behind Tar Valon; and how noisy and varied the city is.

Rand trying to share his food with Mat. Awww. And not going to the White Tower right away because he's worried about Mat's 'obvious signs' of being a male channeler. And reassuring Mat that he didn't murder that family. Just... everything about how kind and gentle and worried that Rand is over Mat. I suspect that we're going to see echoes of this side of Rand when we catch up with him in S2, going by the spoilers. But it's got a personal touch here.

Moiraine trying to warn Nynaeve but not quite able to connect with her. Nynaeve's green and yellow outfit, I love so much. Our fighty healer. <3

Moiraine's speech here pretty much applies to all the ta'veren, even the ones who can't channel. They're all connected to something bigger and more dangerous, something that has pulled them away from the lives that they led before.

The Tuatha'an are taking the longest to get to Tar Valon out of all of the groups because they are chill and like to take their time. Egwene is so bouncy and has been enjoying her time with the Tuatha'an a lot, but she's also so thrilled to be in sight of the White Tower.

And immediately acting to do their best to protect Perrin and Egwene, but in the way that reflects their own philosophy and culture.

Hi Loial! <3 Anyway, I don't mind the bad reaction to Loial being moved to Tar Valon instead of Caemlyn -- it implies some interesting things about it having been longer since the Ogier have been out of the Stedding than they were in the books. And poor Rand getting his denial poked at. It's Rand's turn again to remind us about the Rand & Egwene relationship here, when he picks up Jain Farstrider and it makes him melancholy.

I can't believe that people got mad at Rand for going after Mat to try to make sure nothing bad is going to happen rather than waiting for Loial. That's his friend that he is justifiably very worried about. He has literally just met Loial.

Oh, hi, Fain! I 100% missed you on my first watch and didn't realize you were in Tar Valon until people pointed it out online. Fain is really the main thing that makes me think Liandrin is probably already a Darkfriend, because I think he's her "friend in North Harbor" that gets mentioned in the next episode, and I think that he got the ruby dagger from her (assuming that Moiraine took it to the White Tower to get safely locked up after she breaks Mat's connection to it, or believes that she breaks it, depending on where s2 takes us on that).

Logain here does, I think, absolutely notice Rand, but Mat's paranoia amplifies his reaction in Mat's mind and focuses it towards Mat (update: confirmed in latest s2 teaser).

This conversation with Mat and Rand! Also, Mat has been very consistent throughout the season in not caring/believing in all the Dragon-related prophecy stuff, but he does worry about hurting people/people getting hurt. (I really hope we get the Mat & Rand reunion in S2 and don't have to wait until S3)

Everything about Stepin is there to give us more knowledge about the Warder bond! Which connects strongly to both Moiraine and Lan, but also gives us a lot of set up for the eventual coup, because now Warders actually have a subculture of their own. It's important!

Feel like we're going to get a similar 'dehumanization' scene for Egwene in s2 with the Seanchan that she got here with the Whitecloaks and it's going to hurt so much. I do think we're doing to get some major Whitecloaks-Seanchan parallels alongside the Darkfriends-Seanchan parallels. I wish Egwene a happy "blow up lots of Seanchan" in the s2 finale.

17. As awful as the Whitecloaks are here, the Seanchan are going to be agonizing to watch on-screen. Egwene does get some useful information here in that she doesn't need her hands to channel.

18. Oof, this stuff is hard to watch. And the Seanchan stuff is going to be even tougher to watch, I imagine.

19. Nynaeve just wanting to help but she can't truly help Stepin. There's so much great stuff in all these White Tower sections for Nynaeve, Lan, and Moiraine.

20. I've said it before and I'll say it again: what Liandrin says here about "much of the world" being controlled by men who are not kind to little girls is true of the books as well, it's just that Jordan didn't realize he was writing it that way half of the time when he did it because it was just steeped into him via his culture.

21. Rand's ta'veren coincidences bring Nynaeve to him and Mat via Loial. This reunion is so sweet (and sad, when he snaps at her) and then sweet again.

22. Rand does believe at this point that it's Mat, because he doesn't have any other explanation for the way that Mat is collapsing in on himself. Nynaeve's moment of reassuring Rand here is a wonderful little moment. Nynaeve reassures Rand, informs about Egwene's strength of character, and is also a hint at Nynaeve channeling when she was younger by doing the miracle healing.

23. Perrin confessing to Egwene because he wants to convince her that he's the one who deserves death and not Egwene -- genuinely so emotional (and we hear wolves in the background!). And Egwene being very clever here, by letting Valda think that she's given in and failing but actually releasing Perrin (so, question: I wonder if Valda thinks that Perrin might be able to channel too?) Wolf-friends helping out! <3

24. Our Forsaken dolls. Much speculation has been spilled over them. Graendal being the tits-out doll does crack me up.

25. Show!Alanna is such a likable character. She's a sweetie.

26. The Stepin storyline is genuinely very sad but it's also incredibly informative. We learn tons of lore through a narrative rather than through an infodump. There are so many lore tidbits that we learn over the course of his short arc.

#wot #wheel of time #wot on prime #wot rewatch #wot book spoilers #wot s2 spoilers #wheel of time s2 spoilers #the fires of heaven

[danger-xylophones]

What if Thrawn Has a chiss wife aka the reader who leaves home to find him since he was only suppose to be gone a year but now is a grand admiral and her ship appears over lothal near his fleet and they reunit since the last time they seen each other young 😭🫶🏻

warnings: she/her pronouns, reader is referenced as a woman, references to battle, arguing, xenophobia, reader is referred to as wife

Warning #2 I did a goof and forgot that Eli had left before Thrawn became a Grand Admiral but I was almost done writing by the time I realized so whoops

Not edited, we die like morons

.................................................

This was a one in a million chance. Not even - one in a trillion would be a better gambit. So many different factors had to work together for this one singular snippet of a transmission to reach your mourning ears.

You'd been far away, on the very outskirts of Chiss space due to a navigational error on your skywalker's behalf. F'io had explained to you that hyperspace had been unnaturally fuzzy and hard to navigate but she'd been compelled to keep going. You'd ended up having a lengthy discussion with her caregiver regarding the possibility of the poor girl's third sight fading earlier than predicted.

Shortly after, you returned to the bridge. The helm officer Ryn'da was busily setting up a return to course route when from the other side of the bridge, the comms officer chirped. "Senior Captain, we're picking up an unknown transmission." Azura's clear voice caught your attention easily and soon you were striding over to the woman.

"Origin?" You asked as you settled a hand on the back of the Lieutenant Commander's chair.

"Inconclusive, ma'am. But it does seem to be coming from Lesser Space."

Brow furrowed, you roved your eyes over the transcription scrolling across the screen that showed the same information Azura had just relayed to you. "Play it."

Immediately your ears were bombarded by sounds of weapons firing, the loud pings of charged shots colliding with either the hull or the shield - it was hard to tell - provided an overwhelming cacophony against the panicked yelling that served as the bulk of the message. It was in a language you didn't recognize but the sheer stress and fear in the speaker's voice gave you enough information to deduce that this was either a distress signal or an order to flee. The message cut off after just a few seconds.

"Interesting." You muttered, bringing a hand to your mouth in thought. "Any way to trace it?"

Azura made a face, confused by the request, or rather, by your interest in the message but eventually complied. "I can certainly try, ma'am. But it will take a while." She muttered, hands already flying across the screen.

"You keep on that. Ryn'da," your call snapped the helm officer's attention to you, "how's the return course coming along?"

"Fine, Senior Captain. I can have us moving in a few minutes."

"See to it that you do." You hummed. "I'm stepping off the bridge for a few minutes. When I return," you returned your attention to Azura, "I want an update on the transmission. If you haven't been able to trace it by then, at least make a copy for further study." There was a muttered chorus of 'yes, captain' at your back that you didn't heed. No, you were far more focused on talking to the skywalker again. And maybe laying the invasive gut feeling you had to rest.

.............................

"Are you insane?" The words were flying out your mouth as soon as the door opened. "No, scratch that - you're insane!"

The man you'd accused of losing his mind looked up from his personal questis placidly. He was stretched out on the shared bed, his large frame a focal point within the room itself, freshly showered and ready for sleep. Lowering the questis, he peered at your agitated form with eyes too relaxed for your liking. "Beloved, what's the matter?"

"Don't 'beloved' me, Thrawn." You hissed, stalking closer to his side of the bed. "Did you even think this through?"

He blinked at you once, twice. And finally reached to grab your hand. "Yes, I did." Tugging you closer, Thrawn sat up in the bed and pivoted his body towards you, revealing bare, muscular legs from underneath the covers. You moved with him, slotting yourself between his knees but refusing to look at the Mitth. "I have considered every possibility and know this is to be the only way forward."

When you continued to refuse to look at him, Thrawn's hands began to work. Carefully, he started to undo all the fasteners holding your uniform together. You recognized it for what it was - less an attempt to get you naked and more so to get you to calm down. The sooner you were out of uniform, the sooner you'd quit thinking about work. and by extension, this latest scheme. Normally, you'd be grateful for his inherent understanding that sometimes your crankiness was just a result of being forced to wear an uncomfortable outfit nearly every day. But not right now. Because you weren't 'cranky'. You were beyond angry. "Why do you want to leave me?"

His hands froze on your waist, the warmth from his palms seeping through the thin material of your undershirt. Your quiet words had hit him like a blaster bolt to the chest. Good. Now he would know how you'd felt after talking to Ba'kif. "I don't..." Thrawn finally answered.

"You don't what, Thrawn?" You hissed once again, fully pulling away from him to begin pacing around the room. "I always figured that if you'd ever lost interest, you'd talk to me not run away from the ascendancy entirely! I always thought that if something big came up, you'd let me help you! I thought you'd trust me! But this - this, I don't even have the words-"

"You think I'm abandoning you." His voice, always so icily calm, trembled. It made you stop. He was right, of course.

"Why?"

Thrawn rose from the bed, the covers falling away from him like fancy robes from those paintings he loved so much. He crossed to you, three long strides brought him into your space far more quickly than you would ever get used to. His arms wrapped around you like a vice, their sheer warm, bulk nearly enough to break down the hastily put up walls. And, despite your anger and hurt, you leaned into him. Face pressed into his chest, you let the tears coalesce on your lash line. And finally fall when he kissed the top of your head. "Beloved," his words, spoken against your hairline, rolled through your body, "there are threats to the Ascendancy outside our borders that only I can deal with."

"Why won't you take me with you?" You muttered into the heated skin against your cheek.

"Because, I want you here, where it's safer. Samakro is going to need someone to help him guide the Springhawk. You have a duty to the ship first and me second." He kissed you softly, ending the argument with the press of his lips, "Besides, I'll only be gone a year."

....................................................

Ba'kif thought you were insane. And, well, maybe you were. But you'd heard what you'd heard - as weak of an argument as that was. Azura hadn't been able to trace the transmission before your ship had to get back to hyperspace to make your rendezvous with the fleet. But she'd done as asked and made a copy that you poured over as soon as you got your hands on it.

You hadn't voiced your initial thoughts to anyone on the bridge, you didn't want them to worry about your mental health. But, beneath the panicked words of the pilot and the ringing shots of the blasters you'd heard another voice. It was still in that same unintelligible language that the main message had been in but the richness, the calm, commanding tone that bled through all of it - it was too familiar. There was no way. But you had to look into it.

You'd ran that damn transmission through so many scrubbing layers, trying to eliminate all other noise in an attempt to isolate that one voice.

But finally you had your evidence. The language was still unknown to you but the voice, when compared with private messages you still had saved, proved to be too similar to Thrawn's to let it go. So, reluctantly, Ba'kif let you take your ship to try and follow it up. With no deadline forcing you away from the edge of your borders, Azura was able to track the transmission to a planet just beyond your borders called Lothal.

You knew that your crew wasn't fully on board with this exploratory mission but they humored you as their captain. Plus, it didn't hurt that you had Admiral Ar'alani backing you up. The Vigilant would be tracking your every move. If things went south, she would move in to help.

"Break out in 5," Ryn'da's proud voice cut through the sentinel silence of the bridge, beyond the ship, the galaxy swirled by in shifting shades of blue, "4, 3, 2, 1 -"

It seemed like the starscape rose up to meet your ship as it dropped out of hyperspace. Almost dead center in the view port loomed a dusty looking planet with swirling white and yellow clouds covering its surface. And almost dead above you were three ships unlike anything you'd ever seen. You were glad you'd already sent F'io and her caregiver back to their quarters.

"Hell." Someone muttered from behind you and you couldn't agree more.

"Ryn'da, if things take a turn I want you to make a jump towards the planet to buy us time to escape - It should take them by surprise. Sashin," the weapons officer raised his head, "get your guns ready. Primed for defense, no way we're taking those things down. Azura, get a distress signal ready and give me comm." You called, breaking the starstruck spell that had settled over the woman. "Attention, unknown warships," you began in a crisp, clear voice as you introduced yourself - giving only your core name, "I am the Senior Captain of the Blightwing of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. Please understand we mean no harm - we are looking for a lost ship whose last known coordinates place it around this planet." You waited a few minutes before deciding to try again in Minnisiat. And again before hailing them in Sy Bisti. Nothing. Finally you tried what little you knew of Basic.

"Attention fighting-ships. I am the foremost captain for the Blightwing. I search for a lost ship who was last seen here." Cringing at your own mispronunciations, you pushed on, "I mean no harm. Repeat. No harm, asking for any...help?

Finally, a response came. "This is Admiral Konstantine of the Imperial Navy. Can you describe this ship?"

Chaos, this was humiliating. "I greet you, Admiral. Yes. I can. You speak different language? This is unf...unfamiliar? to me?" Pausing a moment, you thought about how the words felt in your mouth before offering an alternative, "Taarja?"

"No. I will not. We will speak in Basic."

You pulled a nasty frown, stifling a few choice words that came to mind for the man. He didn't say he couldn't so he was just being a piece of growler dung. "The ship is like this. Small, fighter. It is...sister-ship?" Pulling away from the comm a moment to gesture almost wildly to your bridge crew, in a bid for them to throw more adjectives at you. "Made for battle, um....three stop guns."

"I'm afraid there are no ships remotely resembling that description. Be on your - Grand Adm-" He was cut off, you shot a look at Azura who shrugged to indicate that the problem was not on your end. As suddenly as he'd left, Konstantine returned. "I rescind my statement, the Grand Admiral would like you to come aboard."

Turning away from the comm again, you thought for a moment. "What of my crew?"

"They may remain in the hangar of one of the other two warships, you are to come aboard the Chimeara. At once."

"Fine."

"Good, a shuttle will be sent out to escort you. Good day, Captain." For the final time, you turned away from the comm.

“Get the Mid-Captain up here.”

“Captain, with all due respect you cannot be considering actually going?” Ryn’da began to protest.

You turned to her. “I’m not considering it - I’m going.”

"But, ma'am-!"

"You have your contingency orders. They still apply even if I am not aboard the ship. Mid-Captain Galorim is more than capable of controlling the Blightwing and returning you all to safety should this go awry."

"Ma'am, please - Ar'alani will-" Ryn'da started to rise from her seat.

"I will hear no argument, Lieutenant. The admiral will be informed shortly and she will understand. Now," you turned from her, "is the Mid-Captain on his way?"

One of the privates offered a hasty nod before skittering out of your way as you stepped closer - already heading towards the attaching hatch to await the shuttle.

................................................................

You'd half expected Admiral Konstantine to be the one to pick you up, but in hindsight - that was a foolish thing to think. But, it didn't stop you from being surprised by the sight of four armored guards awaiting you.

Their armor was shiny, near blindingly so, and the evidence of a black body glove peaked out from between the disconnected white plates. They held blasters like you'd never seen before abreast, evidently ready to shoot should you make any wrong move in their eyes.

They greeted you in basic, you responded as best you could to the simple phrase, before the stepped aside enough to make room for you in the middle of the small square they formed. As you settled into place, the shuttle disengaged from your ship and ascended towards what you figured must be the flagship.

As a section of the hull parted to welcome the shuttle back into its underbelly, you caught the barest hint of a design. It was massive, taking up the entire underside of the warship and intricate from what you could scarcely make out.

At the very least it confirmed your suspicions that you were being taken aboard the flagship.

The shuttle rocked unsteadily as it settled into the hangar, jostling you into the side of the guard closest to you who used their elbow to knock you back into place.

You bit down a hissed retort. As much as it pained you to - you had to be polite to the grunts who did this Grand Admiral's bidding.

What was a Grand Admiral, anyway? Was it this navy's equivalent of Supreme Admiral? It would be insane if you'd managed to fly yourself into the lap of the highest ranking officer in this foreign war-force. But stranger things had happened. You'd half a mind to ask but it seemed like the guards weren't much interested in speaking to you.

Suddenly, the lights went red before flashing through a quick sequence of white, blue, and green. And then, near painfully slow, the ramp started to lower.

The darkened shuttle was filled with blinding white light as the ramp fell lower and lower before finally touching down with a controlled thunk that rattled the durasteel beneath your boots. Distant voices could be heard rattling off in clipped professional voices of intercoms that distorted everything. There was also the unmistakable hisses of releasing hatches and temperature regulators to underscore the indistinct conversations. All in all, this seemed like a sterile environment devoid of life. As your escort started to move, you couldn't help but brush your fingers down the side of the charric affixed to your side. It brought a wash of comfort. Yes, most likely you wouldn't be able to completely defend yourself considering the sheer amount of people loyal to the commander of this ship. But you'd at least go down fighting. `

The soldiers led you out with measured steps. Their stomps creating a steady rhythm unfamiliar to you but almost soothing in its steadiness. They marched past droves of unfamiliar spacecraft and several squadrons of similarly armored guards and humans dressed in pressed, dark green uniforms. Those in the green stared gleefully at the newcomer and you caught them bowing their heads to whisper unknown words to each other. In defiance, you raised your head higher.

You were only partially surprised to not have encountered Admiral Konstantine as the soldiers marched you through the halls. But from what you gathered during your brief discussion he would either be on a different ship or preoccupied with the Grand Admiral.

Finally, after what felt like hours spent walking through identical hallways, the soldiers stopped in front of a very nondescript door. The only thing to give away that anything important laid beyond it was the presence of another armored guard - this one with a pauldron over his shoulder.

A silent conversation passed between the lead guard of your escort and the one posted at the door before he stepped away and you were ushered inside, alone. The metal door slid shut behind you with a finalizing hiss.

The room you were now in was more like a hallway than anything else. Ahead sat another door, sealed shut. To your left was a brightly lit training room, door open - a trap? You didn't enter it and instead padded forward ever so slowly. Along the walls were droids, powered off, thankfully as they appeared to be built for fighting. Also hanging down over the bland walls were tapestries depicting things you'd never seen before. Minimal colors were used, white and gold predominantly. You couldn't derive much meaning out of it yourself. Thrawn would have a field day with it though.

Quietly, you pressed on coming to the next door at length. It opened before with a loud 'whoosh' and before you was a large, cold office awash in watery gray light. It was dark and hard to see even with your thermal vision. "A long way for a chiss warrior to travel."

You could feel your blood run cold at the sound of the smooth, accented sy bisti that flowed over you - filling the room with sudden presence. The voice was painfully familiar. "You speak as though you are familiar with my people, Grand Admiral." You answered back, eyes narrowing on the desk dead ahead and the shadowed figure who sat at it.

A chuckle like that of rumbling thunder sounded from the figure and went straight to your heart, nestling right into a particular . It nearly brought you to your knees. "You could say I have an innate understanding of the chiss." The Grand Admiral looked up at you.

Red eyes

"Thrawn?" You choked out, voice squeaky and shaky as emotions stifled your control over the tone.

He rose from the desk and stepped around it into the light. "I hope you will forgive the dramatics," it had been so long since you'd heard his voice (his authentic voice, not the recordings you had of previous missions and private communique) that it nearly brought tears to your eyes, "I wanted to surprise you." He was wearing a uniform completely unfamiliar to you - white with gold shoulder pads and a belt about his waist - and you were surprised you found it attractive on him.

"Well," you started, muscling your voice into an even tone while trying to ignore the way the edge of your vision had turned watery, "consider me beyond surprised."

You wanted to move, you wanted to run into his arms and forget the past six years but you couldn't. It felt like you were being torn in two. You were angry at him. But you had missed him terribly. But he'd left you. But he hadn't meant to be gone so long.

Thrawn took a step forward, opening his arms in invitation.

You took a step back. "Don't."

He stopped, head tilting just to the side in confusion. "Beloved?"

"You - you left me, Thrawn. For years." You started, feeling those same emotional walls you kept up crumbling under the weight of the anger and sadness you felt looking at him again.

"My love, you know why I had to-"

"No, I know why you left for the first year. But the last five? For all I knew you'd found yourself a brand new life out here and had no intention of coming back!" You were yelling now, voice vacillating quickly between refined control and unbridled frustration.

"Visa'hot, I would never leave you. I made a vow-" Thrawn protested, stepping closer to you.

You didn't back down. "But you did, Thrawn. Whether you meant to or not, you did. What was I supposed to think? You didn't send any type of message."

He faltered, stony expression twitching down to form a vulnerable and confused face you'd only seen a couple of times in your life. "I don't understand. I thought you would be happy to see me?"

Taking a deep breath in, you steadied yourself. "I am happy, Thrawn. And relieved to see that you're alive and doing well - I mean, Grand Admiral? I'm not entirely sure what that is but if it's at all similar to flag rank I'm sure it's impressive." You cut yourself off to keep from rambling. "But, I'm also angry at you - unbelievably so. I know you left for the 'good of the ascendancy' or something like that but you told me a year. I was prepared to wait a year."

"I see."

"It's selfish, I know. But you're my husband, I love you despite all the shit you pull and I want to be with you whenever I can. And you just leaving me behind stings, Thrawn."

Silence descended on the two of you, tense and heavy. Until Thrawn, still bearing that same puzzled expression, stepped forward. "Beloved, I am...I don't know what to say. I did not foresee how my actions would harm you." He stepped forward again, bringing him within arms reach. "And for that, I have failed you. I understand your anger. And know that I am sorry." He bowed his head to catch your gaze. "Can you ever forgive me?"

You didn't answer for a moment - you didn't even meet his eye, instead focusing on the shiny plaque affixed to his chest. "Probably. But not right now."

"I understand, ch'acah." Thrawn sighed and began to move away.

"Will you hold me?" Your question seemed to slam into Thrawn like a runaway skycar. He snapped to attention, regarding you with evident confusion. "I'm still mad at you, but I also still love you."

A smile, a genuine smile crept unto his face - bright enough to be more reminiscent of a completely different man. "Of course." He held his arms open and you rushed into them. "I missed you, beloved."

"I missed you too."

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