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shellshocklove · 2 months

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wet nights | joel miller

pairing/AU: bfd!joel miller x female!reader – no outbreak

summary: getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 25 and joel is 47, reader is described as wearing a dress, swearing, use of pet names, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, exhibitionism, praise with a dash of degradation kink, one small touch of your clit, soft dom!joel, use of sir, cum play, no use of y/n

a/n: mom said it was my turn to write bfd!joel lol. basically this is just me wanting to write joel getting his cock and balls sucked bc it's what he deserves 😌 as always thank you to @dustydaddyyy for reading through this for me! and happy reading <3

main masterlist / ao3

Nodding your head to the beat of the music you gulped down a cooling sip of beer. The bar was stuffed to the brim tonight for Sarah’s birthday. Every chair and booth occupied, large groups huddled together against the walls, and a growing crowd of brave, seemingly deep enough down their drinks, dancers moved across the makeshift dance floor. Leaning against the bar right at the end, you were shielded from the continuous line of people looking for a drink to sate their thirst on this hot summer night.

You’d missed Sarah since graduation. She’d moved back to Austin to be closer to her father – a man you had still to meet even after all these years of knowing Sarah. You’d met in undergrad where you’d had a couple of overlapping classes the first year. She’d been one of those people where you’d just clicked, like a hand in a glove, you two just fit together.

Now you had moved to Austin. It wasn’t exactly planned, but you’d applied to a postgraduate program at the University of Texas, not necessarily thinking you’d get in– but then you had. Sarah had been ecstatic when you’d told her. You hadn’t seen her in person in over a year, but you couldn’t wait to live in the same city as your best friend again.

But first, her 25th birthday party.

Tonight would be your first night out as a new Austinite. Sarah had invited all her closest friends and family to her favorite bar to celebrate. You’d dreaded it a little, you weren’t gonna lie. That nagging anxiety had bubbled under your skin all week at the prospect of being the only one at the party who didn’t know anyone already. Sarah had told you not to worry though when you’d voiced your concern to her a few days ago – she’d introduce you to everyone – nothing to worry about, and she’d been right.

All Sarah’s friends had been extremely friendly and nice, and you’d been taken under their wing immediately. Quickly, your anxiety had melted away, condensing into nothing as you’d started to have a good time.

It was deep into the summer, and Austin had shown itself from its hotter side the last few days. Inside the bar everything ran hot, even with the AC on blast and with the amount of people who’d made their way inside in the last hour, looking for a good time on a Saturday night, it never stood a chance.

Trying to cool off you’d excused yourself from your new group of friends to order yourself a cold beer. One of the ACs blew cold air directly towards the bar, keeping the frantic bartenders cool as they pushed out order after order of drinks. You watched them from where you stood perfectly in the wind of the AC, glass raised to your lips when you felt a hard bump against your shoulder.

“Fuck,” you cursed as your full glass of beer spilled all down your front, staining your white summer dress.

“Shit– sorry, sweetheart.” You didn’t have time to react as your beer was lifted out of your wet hand and placed on the rough wood of the bar.

Looking up from your ruined dress you took in your beer thief as he reached across the bar for some napkins. He was older, forties maybe, maybe older if you were to take the sprinkle of salt and pepper in his hair into consideration, but he was gorgeous. A strong jaw and sculptured nose. Clad in a t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans, you thought he looked casual– not like he belonged to the rest of the birthday party. The material of his t-shirt strained against his bicep as he leaned back from over the bar – a stack of napkins now in his hand. Standing to his full height before you, you noticed just how broad he was, and it made a drop of desire pool in your core.

The man’s previous frantic movements came to a halt as he took you in for the first time; his dark brown eyes rolling down your body and leaving a trail of heat. His fist full of napkins stalled when his eyes landed on your dress, quickly diverting them with a loud clearing of his throat.

“Um– here,” he said, voice strained as he handed you the napkins.

Pulling your eyebrows together in a frown, you looked down at yourself again. The fabric was completely soaked through, and you felt a prickling heat tickle your cheeks as you realized you now looked like a walking ad for a wet t-shirt competition.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, taking the napkins from the man as you tried your best to cover yourself.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart– bumpin’ into ya like that.”

Pressing the napkins to your dress you shook your head at him, “It’s fine– eh,” you looked up from your body.

“Joel,” he introduced himself.

“It’s fine, Joel. It was an accident. I’ll just go to the restroom and try to get the stain out,” you said with a grimace, and reached for more napkins.

“Let me help ya,” he offered as he placed a friendly hand on your elbow.

As Joel guided you through the crowd towards the toilets, hand hovering at a polite distance behind your back, he continued to apologize.

“I feel terrible– let me at least pay for it if it ends up needin’ replacin’.”

Inside the bar’s toilets, you jumped up on the stone countertop lining the wall, turning the closest sink on.

“It’s okay,” you repeated as you busied yourself with trying to clean yourself up, “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten beer spilled all over me,” you said with a teasing laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Standing beside you with his hip leaning against the stone and a knee popped, Joel huffed out a strained laugh, a laugh somewhere between embarrassment and relief.

“Yeah?” He questioned, eyes falling to your working hands.

“Tell you this much– I’ve had plenty of wet nights.”

A sound escaped Joel at your words, one he quickly tried to cover up with a cough, and you realize your innuendo a second too late. When you looked up from your hands, eyes wide, you noticed that Joel’s cheeks had flushed slightly, like he was embarrassed that he’d even caught onto the innuendo you hadn’t meant to make.

“Oh! No, not like that–” you rushed, tone slightly mortified as your eyes met his, trying very hard not to stutter through the rest of your sentence, “I–uh... I only meant that I uh–... I‘ve had plenty of situations in which I’ve gotten wet–”

At this sentence, Joel raised his eyebrows in a look that seemed half-surprised, half-amused, and your stomach dropped even further into your ass in embarrassment.

“–with water!” you clarified quickly, before you scrunched up your nose in embarrassment, closing your eyes as you huffed out a laughing sigh, “There’s no way I’m getting out of this gracefully, is there?”

You heard Joel’s chuckle to your side, deep and syrupy, like the stuff you’d liked to pour over your pancakes in buckets when you were a kid.

“You’d have gotten away with it if you hadn’t started explainin’, I think,” Joel told you, his tone joking, and you chuckled bashfully, nodding before you looked up at him.

There was a moment in which you exchanged a look, before you felt the smile break over your face and you dissolved into embarrassed laughter, shaking your head as Joel laughed, too.

“Off to a great start,” you muttered in between chuckles, “First week in Austin and I’m already making passes at handsome strangers in bar bathrooms.”

“I never said I was complainin’,” Joel said jokingly, and you let out a chuckle, “First week in Austin, hm?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “Here for a postgrad.”

“Smart and beautiful,” he mused, “Reckon I should spill beers more often if this is what I get in return.”

Delicate wings fluttered in your tummy at his words as a feeling of excitement filled your chest. Looking up at him with a raised teasing eyebrow you said, “Not sure spilling beer on someone is the tried and tested formula.”

“Well, that depends, really,” Joel answered back in a teasingly contemplating voice, “‘s it workin’ on you?”

Your stomach dropped slightly at his words, and when your eyes moved to meet his, he was looking at you with a look that made your insides burn.

“Maybe,” you told him with a teasing smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

You were never usually this bold, but there was something in the way he was looking at you and the syrup-y tone of his voice. You could tell he knew what he was doing, knew exactly what to say, and you wanted more. Biting down on your bottom lip coquettishly, you leaned backwards on your arms, giving Joel a full view of the soaked front of your dress, and more specifically, everything he could see underneath.

“And what works on you, Joel?”

You watched with some satisfaction as Joel's eyes ran over the length of your chest, before he quickly redirected them to your eyes.

“You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman here, sweetheart,” he almost whispered, his eyes as dark as the Austin summer night sky. You gave a noncommitted shrug as a teasing smile tugged at your lips. Then, you leaned forward so that you were closer to him, feet dangling slightly.

“I never asked you to be,” you told him, your voice low but not quite a whisper as you looked up at him through your lashes.

Behind your rib cage your heart quickened with excitement as Joel’s darkening gaze bored into yours, and you knew you him right where you wanted him. His eyes danced over your face for a moment, before they flickered down to your lips. It almost made you stop breathing for a second, the tension in the air between you so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was just something about this man, something about Joel – and in this moment you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone before.

Maybe it should’ve scared you, the speed at which you’d fallen under his spell (or was it the other way around?), but right now, with Joel’s darkening eyes staring into yours, you couldn't bring yourself to feel any fear. You could only look at him, could only feel his breath fanning over your lips and the intensity of his gaze on your face.

“You’re trouble, aren’t ya?” Joel’s voice was low, not quite a whisper, but full of deep bass.

You felt the expanse of his hand fall on your bare knee, rough and calloused over where your sundress had ridden up.

“Nothing you can’t handle.” You batted your eyelashes semi-innocently, spreading your thighs slightly, which made Joel’s mouth twitch in amusement.

“’s that so, darlin’?” He asked, taking his place between your legs, your face now only inches from his as he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhm,” you nodded slightly, your hand falling over his to guide it slowly up your thigh, “Don’t you wanna find out?”

As Joel’s index finger made contact with the side seam of your underwear, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. The hairs of his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow as he dove deeper, lips rolling over yours. You sat up slightly when his other hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your core rubbing up against his growing bulge. You whimpered against his lips at the contact, and Joel inhaled it, consuming every breathy moan and whimper.

His hand slid slowly downwards to your ass where he gave it a nice squeeze, pulling you even closer when your legs came up to wrap around his waist. He licked at your lower lip hungrily, and you opened yourself up to him to allow him to deepen the kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. He was a great kisser, probably the best you’d kissed. His lips moved expertly over yours, soft and firm at the same time as he guided you through it.

The grip on your ass tightened again and soon you were half-way to hanging off the counter as he rocked his front steadily against your core, where your arousal had started to pool. The kisses turned needier then, shorter and desperate between quiet whines. You could feel the shape of him against you, hard and thick, and big. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you as you imagined yourself on your knees before him, the weight and taste of him on your tongue. He was so fucking hot, and you wanted him so fucking badly.

“Can I suck your cock?” you panted through frantic kisses.

Joel pulled back slightly, head tipped back to find your eyes.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. You only nodded, head tipping slowly with the bite of your lip.

Joel tsk-ed, “Dirty girl,” he said and rocked his hard bulge against your core, which earned him a moan. It made a wicked grin spread across his face, like he’d just proved a point.

His hands left your body as he slowly stepped backwards – that same cocky grin adorning his features as he nodded towards one of the stalls. Jumping off the countertop, you almost tripped over your feet to follow him inside.

“Relax, baby– ain’t no need to get on your knees until after we’re inside,” he teased, holding the door open for you, bicep bulging against the fabric of his t-shirt. Fuck, he looked so hot.

“Ha-ha,” you fake-laughed at him with a teasing roll of your eyes as you stepped past him and into the bathroom stall. When the door clicked behind him, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning, you felt a pair of strong hands land on your hips as he pressed his body against your back.

“I’m only teasin’,” he reassured you in your ear, his breath fanning over the shell and sending a tingle down your spine. Turning around in his hold, your own teasing smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah?” you queried with the raise of an eyebrow, “Well two can play that game, sir” you teased as you slowly sunk to your knees, missing the way Joel reacted to the title you’d assigned him.

From above Joel watched you, body relaxed and composed like he wasn’t about to get his dick sucked, but the lust in his eyes gave him away. Your teeth caught on your bottom lip as you fumbled with his belt, the sound of metal clinking bouncing off the tiles as you focused on popping the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the shape of him hidden behind the denim, and it made your mouth water, your thighs squeezing together. You were mesmerized as you let your pointer finger run over the covered length of him, the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs soft under your fingertips.

For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were about to do – suck a man you’d just met less than an hour ago off in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar? But then again, something excited you about it.

Maybe it was Joel? Or maybe it was the thrill of it all– of maybe getting caught?

“Go on, darlin’, it’s okay– be a good girl n’ take it out f’me,” Joel ordered from above, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, caught the way he studied you, gauging your every move and reaction.

Then something shifted in his eyes, a flash of insecurity making its presence known, “Or don’t– we can stop f’you want– if you ain’t feelin’ it anymore.”

You shook your head before he’d even finished his sentence. God, no! You sure as hell didn’t want to stop.

“I wanna keep going, Joel,” you smiled, your fingers hooking into the elastic band of his boxer briefs.

A genuine smile bloomed across his face then, his rough hand coming down to cup your chin, “That’s good, baby,” he said, swiping his thumb slowly over your skin, before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Know you’ll be good f’me, won’t you?” he whispered against your lips, drawing a breathy whine from you at the praise.

“Yes,” you sighed, almost breathless as he kissed you again quickly before he murmured against your lips, “Yes, you will, darlin’– you’re gonna choke on my cock ‘n thank me for it, won’t ya?”

He was driving you mad with all these questions. In just a few minutes, this man had turned you inside out, pushed every button to turn you on– you were practically swimming in your panties, your mind clouded in hazy arousal.

You didn’t know what to do, and not thinking clearly, you chased his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel chuckled, pulling away slightly, “lemme hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you sighed again, “thank you for giving me your cock.”

“Thank you for giving me your cock, what?”

This manwas relentless.

“Thank you for giving me your cock, sir?” you tried, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

Pleased, a satisfied grin pulled at Joel’s lips. He rewarded you with a quick kiss before he pulled away, standing to his full height again.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to touch him. Hooking your fingers into the elastic band of his boxer briefs again, you slowly pulled them down, revealing inch by inch of the base of his fat cock.

He was big, and the sight made your mouth water, but what excited you the most was the weight of his heavy balls.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes wide with fascination.

His hand found the back of your neck in a grounding hold as he guided you closer, your lips bumping against his tip. “Give it a kiss, baby… just like that,” he praised as you did exactly what he wanted, placing a kiss to his cock the same way you’d kissed his lips.

Over you, you could hear Joel release a content breathy chuckle, “That’s so good, baby, such a good girl.”

Egged on by his praises, you shifted a little on your knees, steadying your hands on his thighs as you pooled a blob of spit in your mouth that you let drip down the head. Joel watched you intensely as you used your dominant hand to slowly work the spit over his length, earning yourself a strained grunt. He grew even harder in your hand as you familiarized yourself with the weight and size of him in your hand.

“Wanna taste it, sir,” you said and placed another soft kiss to the head, swiping your tongue over the slit to taste the precum that had started to pearl.

“Yeah?” he taunted, almost degrading, “You wanna taste my cock that badly?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

Joel watched you for a beat before he tapped at the hand wrapped around him, shooing it away as he fisted himself. “Open wide then, honey, ‘f you want it that bad,” he said, slapping his cock against the side of your face.

Your mouth dropped open in an instance as Joel stuffed his cock inside your mouth slowly. You opened up as wide as you possibly could, relaxing your jaw to accommodate the size of him in your mouth. It was a wide stretch, and the tip touched the back of your throat far too soon, making you gag around the head.

He pulled back to let you breathe for a moment, before he sunk back down your throat again, a large and grounding hand resting at the back of your head. The second time you were more prepared to take him, holding him in your throat for a few moments longer before you started to gag. Over you, Joel let out a strained grunt; the noise sending a bolt of arousal straight to your core.

After that, Joel let you take the lead.

You started out slow, taking the head into your mouth as you let your spit-covered fingers glide over his shaft in an experimental tug. Under your fist, a slick sound echoed off the tiles with every jerk of his cock. You made sure his cock was thoroughly coated in your spit as you set a steady rhythm. You let your tongue glide over the underside of his tip, his hips bucking when you dipped your tongue into the slit.

It was sloppy, and wet, and the noises coming from your throat were entirely too obscene as you started bobbing your head, taking him down your throat.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel praised you, helping guide his cock down your throat with the hand resting at the back of your head. “You love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Love havin’ a big cock fill up that tight throat?”

Suddenly, you heard the muted music coming from the bar grow louder before dying again at the sound of the door slamming shut. You stilled your movements in panic as you heard someone slip into the stall to your right. Your eyes met Joel as you slipped his cock out your mouth, but to your surprise he looked far from concerned about the new audience.

Stretching his neck he turned his head in the direction of the occupied stall, while he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. Even in his hands it looked big, and you started to wonder how you’d ever managed to fit it down your throat. A beat passed before he turned his head to look at you again, a wicked grin coating his lips as he bobbed his cock in your face, rubbing the head over your closed lips before he slapped it lightly against your cheek.

“Open up,” he mouthed with another light slap to your cheek. His actions made a tingle of arousal spread throughout your body, and you realized in shock how much the thought of getting caught turned you on.

You did as Joel said and opened your mouth for him to feed you his cock again. He watched you very closely this time, letting you ease yourself down his cock at your own pace, trying your best to be quiet. When the very tip of your nose made contact with the thatch of coarse dark hair at the base and your lips were snug around his cock, Joel couldn’t help himself. The grounding hand at the back of your head held you down as he shoved himself as deep as he possibly could down your throat, his balls bouncing against your chin at the movement.

To your right you heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed and a lock being twisted. Your eyes welled up with tears, your vision fogging over as you tried your best to fight against your gag reflex. Over you, Joel watched you with a proud smirk on his lips. When the sound of the sink turning on echoed through the restroom, you allowed a whimpering gag to escape you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but the thrill of getting caught choking on an older man’s cock, a man who was essentially a stranger, made you wonder if you could come untouched. You were so close already, just a flick of your clit would send you off the edge of bliss.

Your eyes were about to roll back into your head when Joel finally pulled back. You gasped violently for air at the exact moment the door opened, filling the toilets with loud music for a moment before you and Joel were locked away again in your own little world. Like you were on autopilot, your hand slipped between your thighs to find your clit, and soon you were withering with your orgasm.

“Oh, there you go, honey, come all over those fingers f’me, just like that,” you heard Joel say, though the force of your orgasm made it seem like he was far away, like your ears were filled with cotton.

When you finally calmed down, you steadied yourself with a tug at Joel’s jeans – the fabric rough under your fingertips. Over you Joel fisted his cock as he watched you with a wild look in his eyes.

“Goddamn, baby, you’re so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that just from gettin’ your throat fucked.”

“Thank you, sir,” you managed to let out, your voice strained and hoarse.

Realizing he must’ve been close, you sat up straighter on your knees, ready to pull him off the edge too. Leaning forward, you stuck out your tongue, licking a fat strip up the seam of his balls to the underside of his shaft. His cock jumped in his hand as Joel let out a breathy laugh.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, “Look me in the eyes honey– look me in the eyes when you lick my balls.” Joel jerked his cock above your face as you continued to lick at his heavy balls – your eyes locked with his.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he choked out through groans, “Suck on ‘em, baby, suck on my balls.”

Blinking up at him you tried your best to fit one of them in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking greedily and lapping at the skin, before you moved on to treat the other with the same amount of love.

Joel’s mouth dropped open in a gape, his breath coming out quicker and more staggered. He squeezed himself harder at the base with each jerk before skating his thumb over the swollen head, massaging it.

“Fuck,” he panted, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ come.”

Popping his balls from your mouth you hurriedly sat up in front of him, the tip off his cock brushing over the plump of your bottom lip with every thug of his cock.

“Please, sir,” you begged, “Please, come in my mouth.”

Joel wasn’t one to deny your request, especially not when you were sat so pretty in front of him with your tongue sticking out.

A second later, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth and came – balls drawn tight as he shot his load down your throat. The force of it made you gag a little at first, the restriction around his sensitive cock only making him come harder. He groaned above you as you sucked him dry, before he pulled back when it was too much, and caught his breath.

“Say Ah,” he said, a gentle but firm hand cupping your jaw. The squeeze of his fingers made your mouth drop open to reveal the cum coated on your tongue and where it pooled at the back of your throat. “Don’t swallow– Let me see, darlin’.”

Your smile fought against his grip. Sticking your tongue out the best you could, you let him see the state he’d left you in; chin coated in saliva, tears starting to dry on your cheeks, mouth puffy and fucked, and marked in this stranger’s cum.

“Pretty as a picture,” he tutted before he let go of your jaw, and with a pat to your cheek finally gave you permission to swallow.

After that it was like the spell had broken between you. Joel helped you to your feet, both of you giggling when your legs wobbled like a foal unsteady on its feet. He held you upright with a strong hand to your waist, while the other one traveled up the length of your body to cup your face, and bring it closer to place a slow and sensual kiss to your lips.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’d never done anything like that before?” You asked him a moment later as he helped you clean your face by the sink.

Joel gave you a look in the mirror.

“You don’t?” you exclaimed.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly casual shrug, “It ain’t your first time suckin’ dick that’s for sure,” he teased with a pinch to your side which made you jump.

Giving him a playful shove, you said, “I’m not lying! I’ve never had a one-night stand.”

“Well, the night’s still young,” Joel joked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and dipping his head to place a soft kiss to the column of your neck.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the soft grip of his hands on your body, and the soft presses of his kisses as you watched the two of you in the mirror. You found that you liked the reflection looking back at you, and if you were lucky, you hoped he liked it too; maybe enough to want to see you again.

“I can’t go back out there like this,” you said after a moment.

Your dress had finally dried, but so had the beer – staining it yellow.

Joel lifted his head from your neck to rest his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scanned your body in the mirror.

“I have a flannel in my truck I can borrow you?”

“More layers in this heat?” you questioned, already sweating at the thought.

A wide grin spread across Joel’s face, full of mischief, “I guess I’ll just have to take ‘em off of you later, then.”

Turning around in his hold, you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair curling at his neck as you met his eyes. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you whispered, painfully aware of the wet stain of arousal soiling your panties and sticking to your cunt.

“No, it doesn’t,” Joel hummed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked and brushed your lips over his.

A moment later Joel guided you out the restrooms with a protective hand resting at the small of your back. Weaving through the crowd, you’d made your way almost to the exit when you heard a shout of your name over the music.

“There you are!” Sarah shouted again as she moved through the crowd towards you and Joel, arms reached out to the sky.

“Oh! And you’ve finally met my dad!”

i hope this was okay and that someone liked this? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #bfd!joel miller #dom!joel miller #pedro pascal #*writing

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queenimmadolla · 3 months

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

“Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around.

Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

“I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.”

“Wha’?”

“Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

“Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair.

While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him.

Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him.

The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention.

Someone.

Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side.

Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it.

Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie.

He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

“It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

NOW, 1989

“Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

“Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand.

When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying.

You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job.

You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan.

So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

Your mother was murdered.

Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional.

The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery.

Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself.

You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace.

The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells.

He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting.

So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead.

“Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

It was a little odd, but you did.

When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

“I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

“I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him.

You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

“Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

“Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

“YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring.

“He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

“Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

“Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.”

Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss.

“I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked.

“I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

“Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.”

You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

“It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that.

“That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.”

Didn’t feel like it.

Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

“No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

“Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

“You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands.

“And I can. Please, let me do this.”

You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

“It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it.

You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

“So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university.

Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

“See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?”

You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, spill.”

Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

“Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!”

This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile.

“Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush.

“Steve Harrington.”

“STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

“Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

“He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

“Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

“Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

“And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again.

“Does he flirt with you?”

“No.”

“See him flirt with any girls?”

“Nope.”

“Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

“Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

“He’s on the spectrum?”

Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

It got quiet for a few moments.

”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most.

She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

“Reefer Rick?”

“Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

Munson.

You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

“I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

“How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

“Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

“Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

“No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

“How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

“H-He’s your favorite…?”

“Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

“You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you.

“Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

“He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea.

“Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

Maybe a drink would calm you down.

You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

“The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now.

“What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

“Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

Oh, shit.

Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

”Funny seeing you here.”

You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

“Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off.

“It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

“I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

“Oh.”

He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

OH, THANK FUCK.

“Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

“So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

“Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

“Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

“Hey, Carol.”

Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

“You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl.

“Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

“Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

“You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

“I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

“Oopsie.”

But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

“Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy.

Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning.

You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

“You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

“You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

“Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

“You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

“I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

“Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

“Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it.

Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

“You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

“Wall.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

“Great Wall of China.”

Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

“Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense.

Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

“Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing.

“Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

“Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

“Does that feel good?”

You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.”

Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

“I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within.

She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

“Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you.

His right arm was out, palm up.

He was waiting for you.

You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

“Sissy. . .”

“Sissy…”

“SISSY!”

You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect.

What the hell?

“You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways.

You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

“It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

“Oh my god…”

“So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

“Ooh, your knees…”

You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

“I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

“Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

“You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist.

“Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once.

“Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

“It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

“Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

“Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

“It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

“Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

“That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

“Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

“I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

“─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

“And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing.

“That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning.

You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

“I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

“Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

“THAT WE DO!”

You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

“What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

“Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

“Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

“Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

“Mm. White wine?”

It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

“Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

“He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

You shot him a glare.

“Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers.

You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

Then your eyes snapped open.

Oh, god. You were a loser.

After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

“Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

“Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

“Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation.

“She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

“I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

“Yes, we got a free soda!”

Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

“Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

“Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

“Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

“You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

“All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.”

“Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

“I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

“I bet you can.”

After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house.

Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder.

And it was coming from outside your front door.

You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home.

You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

“Uuuhhhnng…”

This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

“Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

“OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life.

“Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!”

You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs.

You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

“Stop it!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Go away, I’m just a girl!”

The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located.

On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature.

You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it.

Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

“It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.”

He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation,

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

“Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

“I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

“Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

“Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

“C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Freak like me #lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein inspo #Zombie!eddie munson #dead!eddie munson #undead!eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #Steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x black!reader

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kurogxrix · 1 year

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Enjoy the Silence

Dad!Neteyam x Mom!reader

IN WHICH Neteyam realizes that he’s ruining the relationship between you two by putting his duties first, making your little family fall apart in the process.

Warnings: ANGST, arguing, neteyam is a lil dumb, eventual fluff.

A/N: IM BAAAAACK with a little shitty filler story for yall 🤭

Yours and Neteyam’s relationship had not always been this messy, filled with unresolved arguments and crying toddlers to tend to in the midst of the night. Matter of fact you both had been somewhat of a popular pair amongst the Omaticaya while Jake still ruled the clan, and it wasn’t like that had changed much throughout the years.

Two young, star-crossed lovers bound to fall for each other, bonded for life under the eyes of the All-Mother. There had been little complications in your relationship as you both grew with each other, accepted by both parents and blessed by Eywa herself. You complimented each like you both had been moulded in the sole purposes of completing one another, while you brought some gaiety into Neteyam’s life, he was always there to ground and guide you.

Amidst the instances that life had brought you to, the Great-Mother had been nice enough to bless you both with a new life, a son that had soon been accompanied by his very own sister. Though as Neteyam’s duties began to catch up on his poor soul, his duties as a father and mate have ignorantly been left in the dust.

Your heart ached at the many nights that you had spent alone at night, tending to your two young children while your husband was outside, treating some unrelated matter. Though you knew that being affiliated with the Olo’eyktan’s son would surely mean a future with many obstacles and unforeseen trouble, nothing could’ve prepared you for the rocky stages in your relationship that you were currently facing.

Now as you left as quickly as you arrived, a bowl full of threading needles and feathers in your arms that you had deposited to your mate, Jake could already tell that something was wrong. The tense silence that lingered around you both was suffocating, and low for any pair that shared a bond. Plus it was not like Jake was a stranger to you, he knew you and your talkative mouth, so this was truly odd.

“Your woman cannot even look at you in the face.” Neteyam’s ears flicker towards the sound of his father’s voice, startling him in the process as his calloused fingers graze the tip of the arrow that he was currently working on. The edge is sharp and draws blood from underneath his layers of skin, but an injury of this size does little to phase a warrior.

Neteyam shakes his head at Jake’s words, not finding it in himself to care at his father’s vague words. “What goes on in my home is anything but your concern.”

Jake winces internally at his eldest son’s harsh tone, differing from the usual tenderness and care that laced it. He knew not to take anything to heart, that the constant frown on his son’s face was probably the main source of it. The frown that he had brought amongst himself, though he fails to realise it for now, Jake is persistent on making his hard headed son understand.

Jake’s experienced fingers swiftly threaded a piece of string around his fletching, securing the feather onto the lower part of his arrow. His yellow eyes trailed towards his tall pile of finished arrows, while his son’s harboured a pitiful amount of 5.

“What’s wrong, son?” Jake sighed as he watched his son’s ears fall at his question, his hands pausing their work once more, this time free of any new injury.

“My mate is upset at me,” Neteyam breathed out loudly, and the pause in his voice made it known to his father that he was not quite done talking yet, so observant silence was what he was met with. “We have arguments nearly every night when I come home, and I'm sure that it’s affecting Nikko and Raylu just as much as it’s affecting us.”

Jake watched a sliver of a smile make its way onto Neteyam’s face at the mention of his two beloved children, before quickly fading away at the situation.

The sun had nearly started to leave place for the moon, eclipse bound to fall upon the lands of Pandora. The soft orange hue kissed the father and son, complementing their vibrant yellow eyes. Jake was no stranger to his eldest son’s trouble, for, it was easy to notice the absence of your mate in your family tent, late at night.

Jake didn’t believe that his son had been unfaithful to you, being deceitful was a concept that had been brought to Pandora by the humans, and unlike them, the Na’vi were loyal companions. He knew by the way that Neteyam’s muscles tensed at every move that his son was staying out all night to work, whether it was helping with village work or to help and train the newbies.

Hard-headed just like his mother, Neteyam had let his duties overtake the time that he was supposed to be at home, supposed to be a husband, supposed to be a father. No, instead he used that time to be The Future Olo’eyktan. Though nobody is born perfect, sometimes even people like Neteyam had to be guided to the right direction at times.

“Y’know, it’s never too late to head back home right now, forget about those duties that you have put amongst your own back and be the man that your family craves for.” and with that, it takes a little amount of thinking before Neteyam is up and running, his feet running towards the familiar dirt track towards your little shared hut. He sends a hurried ‘thank you’ and an apology for running off so early, though Jake can only be bothered to chuckle at his son, a sense of pride swarming his chest as he watches his eldest son be the man that he should. The man that you and your children deserve.

Neteyam observes as your eyes widen at his early entrance, clearly not being used to having him in your family tent at this hour. The sun had barely started to set, and both your children were just starting to wake up from their afternoon nap. There in your hand laid a tray of fruits, presumably to feed the roaring bellies of your two bundles of joys. Asif on cue, Nikko’s stomach growls as though he had never been fed before and a shushed giggle escapes your throat at the sight of him attempting to grab the fruit from your higher-form.

Neteyam watches with adoration in his eyes as you bend down on your knees to offer him a fruit on the platter, trying to stifle down his own laughter as your son attempts to grab the whole tray instead. Grubby hands gone and chubby stomachs full, the children are now playing on their own. Though your back is turned towards your husband, he knows that you fear the sight of him. Not that you fear him himself, but the conversation that would obviously have to ensue. He wasn’t here early for no reason, and you all knew it.

“I have saved you a special meal, I knew that you’d work until late again tonight,” you whispered out the last part and Neteyam’s ears twitched towards your direction. Though before he could say anything, you corrected yourself. “Or so I thought, but that doesn’t matter because here you are now.”

Your tone was soft and almost too caring for a woman that had spent the last few nights of her life arguing with her husband about his whereabouts, but he was here now, and there was no need to cause a scene.

Neteyam’s eyes observe as you turn around with two bowls in hand, both of them overlapping with steamed Teylu that you had previously prepared. Though the Teylu was the last thing on his mind at the moment, the sight of you had Neteyam practically to his knees. His mind and eyes raced between every single aspect of you, from the way that your clothes hugged your body in every good way possible, to the way your ears were flickering slightly as you awaited for him to say something.

“I’m surprised that the kids have not come running to me yet,” his voice cut through the sudden silence, choosing to ignore what you had said earlier. His eyes were very much still on you and he looked like a lost man. He looked like a fool in-love, and that was most probably what he was anyway, there was no shame in showing it. The both of you had now sat down in front of each other, bowls in hand as you feasted on the delicacy.

“They are too busy caring about their playtime to even notice the both of us, but it’s the age for such behaviour so don’t think anything of it.” you turned your head to take a look at your children once more, a soft smile gracing your face as you watched them carefully play with their carved toys. Toys that their father had hand-carved for them with love.

“They love you” you reassured him, somehow believing that his previous statement was because he thought it wasn’t the case. You turned your head towards your mate, though you weren’t expecting his eyes to meet yours so abruptly. You couldn’t help but notice the swirl of emotions that ran through them, like he was trying to speak to you through them because he couldn’t do it with his own mouth.

“I love you.” Neteyam blurted out before his brain could even process, though the look in his eyes proved that he meant every single word. The lack of hesitation in his voice made your heart thump hard against your chest, so hard that you could’ve thought that Neteyam could hear it. Your ears lowered at his sudden confession, though they were three words that you had heard many times throughout your relationship, they still had you reacting like you did the first time that he uttered them to you.

“I love you too, Neteyam.” you shyly muttered to him, your ears now raising as you stared your husband down with adoration. Neteyam released a breath that he ignored he was holding at your admission, a pressure upon his chest lifting. Bless Eywa, the way that you stared at him with those blown out pupils made him almost need to grip onto the floor to keep him from pouncing on you. Though now was not the time to get all riled up by you, he had a well awaited apology to deliver to you, and a role of husband to take up back on.

“Listen, I know I haven’t been the best mate as of recently, and I know that you have been suffering because of my actions,” Neteyam trailed off, watching you with attentive eyes to see if he could continue. “I know that I have not been present enough for my family, that I have put my duties at a higher position than they should've been. And I'm sorry for all of this, all that I've been causing to us.”

No words could come out of your mouth at his apology, though you wished not to speak. Something about hearing Neteyam being able to apologise and admit his faults had your hard thumping even harder than before, though he was not hundred percent forgiven in your heart.

“I’m sorry for causing unnecessary fights between us when I knew that you just wanted the best for me, or leaving you alone at night to take care of our children. I promise that as of now, I’ll give you all the time that you deserve. Or, pull my head out of my ass like Spider would say.” You both take a moment to laugh about the said man, Neteyam’s human cousin that you strangely adored.

“I love you and this family, there’s no other place that I'd wanna be right now. I don’t care if you don’t forgive me now, or ever in that case. I’d spend the rest of my life trying to fix my wrong doings.” Neteyam whispered to you.

It didn’t take you much after his whole essay-of-an apology for you to drop your half empty bowl to the side, crawling towards Neteyam that was just in front of you. The sudden throw of your arms around his neck was much unexpected for the Sully son, but he’d take that over anything else. His larger palms pulled you further into the hug, pulling you onto his lap with one hand upon your waist as the other laid across your lower back.

Eywa was he so warm, and how much had you missed the natural heat of his body. His arms engulfed your body into his embrace, making you feel much more protected than you needed to. Neteyam couldn’t help the pur that left his throat as you rubbed your cheek against his in a loving act, his heart felt like it could melt at any moment now. You nuzzled your face into his neck, the tip of your nose touching his skin as your breathing tickled him, and his chuckle was the proof of it.

You didn’t know exactly why you had rushed into his arms so quickly, after the amount of time that he had made you wait for him. But you knew that Neteyam was a good man, he was raised by good people, and he would never do anything to harm you or your little family on purpose. Nobody was perfect and neither was he, he’d make mistakes too, and you’d be here to correct him upon it. You deemed that it was probably your bond that led you back into his arms so fast, or the fact that you had missed him so much.

Though you didn’t care, you’d have all the time of your life to sulk and have him work to make it up to you later on.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, It hurts just to think about the many nights that i’ve spent without you, Neteyam” the said man faltered upon your confession. He felt his heart tighten at the thought of you all cuddled up under a woven blanket as you waited for him to come back home, tears breaching your waterline as you clutched the soft material for comfort. Although when Neteyam opened his mouth to apologise once more, you were cutting him off again.

“Right now all I want is to enjoy this moment with my mate.” With that, the rest of the evening had been spent with laughter and loud catching-up conversations that you were sure that your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow. By the end of the night, your little family had all ended up cuddled up together with your head resting against Neteyam’s chest, your children squeezing in between you both.

Neteyam craned his neck down in a weird angle to take a look at your snoring form across his chest, a fond smile spreading across his face as he admired his beloved family. All he’s ever wanted and all he’s ever needed was right here, in his arms. And for once in weeks, your family tent was not filled with blaring arguments or children’s wailing past eclipse, and Neteyam would gladly enjoy the silence.

i’m back after a month with the shittiest ff ever and a peter parker phase that’s coming back after years.🤭

@letsloveimagines

#neteyam x reader #dad!neteyam #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam oneshot #avatar x reader #neteyam x you #jake sully

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months

Text

Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Valentine's Day 💌

Miguel O'Hara x Fem wife reader

Synopsis: same universe as Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Christmas. You and Miguel are married with three kids: Gabi(his), Marcus(yours), and Anthony(you two had him together). He falls back into his workaholic patterns and you two have a big fight that nearly ruins your big Valentine's Day plans. Word count 5.2k

Sequel-Mother's Day ending blurb

A/N: My last piece for my Valentine's Day special! I just love this man so much lol. Enjoy! Here's the first one I posted for V Day (this fic is completely unrelated to this one)

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT AT THE END (P IN V, FINGERING, CREAMPIE, ORAL F RECEIVING BUT DOESN'T GO INTO TOO MUCH DETAIL, BREEDING,) FAMILY PLANNING, TALKS OF DEPRESSION, TALK OF ABUSE, ANGST, MARRIAGE TROUBLES, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, MAYBE ALLUDES TO POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION, MENTION OF TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES, OC SIBLINGS TO GABI, OC OF YOUR (READER'S) MOTHER. The OCS HAVE PRETTY MUCH LITTLE TO NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, READER'S MOTHER HAS NONE WHATSOEVER. ANTHONY FAVORS MIGUEL MORE IN TERMS OF LOOKS, THIS IS MORE DISCUSSED IN THE CHRISTMAS FIC BEFORE THIS.

-----

It was February 1st and one of the first nights you and your husband actually went to bed at the same time in weeks.

"Let's make a baby this Valentine's Day..." Miguel whispered as his large hand snaked under your arm to cup your breast. Your eyes fluttered, your phone slipped onto the ground, the spicy fanfic you were reading temporarily forgotten. You rolled your hips forward at his touch and panted softly.

"What...?"

"Hmmm....? ¿Quieres un otro niño conmigo, mi amor? (You want another child with me, my love?) He started laying hungry kisses on your neck, his breathing becoming more heavy and hot against your ear, which made you bite your lip. "We can have someone watch the kids...I'll take the day after off so we can have all night and everything..."

"Honey... the baby would be born in November?"

"Mhmmm..." Miguel was too busy caressing your now erect nipples and moving a hand to your crotch to really focus on your conversation.

"They'd be a Scorpio."

Miguel pulls back with an amused look on his face

"Baby...be serious. That's what you're worried about?"

You shrug. "I mean..."

Miguel scoffed and grabbed your breasts again. "I don't care when they're born...just want another little one running around...has your cute nose and everything..." His lips graze upwards on your neck until they come to rest on your jaw. "¿Qué dices?" (What do you say) he murmurs against your skin.

Your mind rushes with all kinds of thoughts. Anthony was quickly approaching his third birthday. You and Miguel had discussed adding just one more O'Hara to the family multiple times. It seemed like good timing. You missed the tender joy and even the sleep deprivation that a little baby brought with them.

You and Miguel had occasional quarrels over dividing housework here and there, but when it came to caring for the kids he was such a hands on father (when he wasn't going through one of his workaholic phases), that you didn't mind the extra labor a newborn demanded.

When people (rudely) asked you if you were done having kids, you couldn't give a firm no. One more child seemed like the perfect way to complete the family you and him built together. You were ready.

You look up at your husband, that irritatingly sexy smirk on his face as he gazes back down at you.

"Buy me dinner first?" You smirk back.

Miguel lets out a hearty chuckle, "I can handle that...I am a gentleman after all. Wouldn't want my pretty little wife thinking I have any ulterior motives..."

He leans down and you release more giggles as he blazes another trail of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"You're impossible, O'Hara..."

----

The next morning, you two start your usual routine. You throw on your signature leggings and hoodie since you have three kids to wrangle, along with the morning carpool.

Miguel is rolling up his sleeves on his sweater as he leans over to plant a kiss on Gabi's and Marcus's heads as they scarf down their Fruit Loops cereal. He has to chase down little Anthony for a minute, and Anthony squeals as Miguel plants a goodbye kiss on his small chubby cheeks that are smeared with banana puree.

"Bye, baby..." Miguel gives your booty what he thought was a discreet love squeeze along with a peck on the lips, much to Gabi's chagrin.

"Gross!"

Miguel grins and opens the door to the garage.

"Mmm- don't forget! Gabi has her book report presentation at 2 pm today!" You call after him.

Shit... Miguel remembers. That's going to be a tough one to squeeze in his already stuffed schedule. "Okay, I'll see what I can do!"

You groan silently to yourself. You knew him well enough to know there was a 99% chance he wasn't coming based on that response alone. You plaster on a fake smile and try to shrug off your worry for the kids' sake. "Alright munchkins, the magic school express is leaving for school, pronto!"

----

After dropping off Gabi, Marcus and two of the neighbors' kids at school, you drop Anthony off at your mother's for some quality time while you catch up on housework. Or at least some of the housework because you end up showering and taking a 3 hour nap. The demands of the past week finally caught up to you. You groggily shut off the alarm on your phone. The clock said noon.

You text your husband, "Are you going to make it to Gabi's presentation?"

No answer.

But, that was typical. Miguel could get quite busy at HQ and not respond for hours. Still, you kept your hopes up that this time he'd make an honest effort to be there to support Gabi.

After lunch, you go back to your mother's and visit for a bit, then you and little Anthony head over to the school for Gabi's presentation promptly at 2 pm.

Gabi breaks out into a smile when she sees you and her baby brother enter the classroom. "Sissyyy!" Anthony babbles, waving his chunky arm.

Gabi runs to the back of the class and picks up little Anthony to give him a squeeze hello, he giggles furiously, kicking his dangling feet as she spins him around. You give both kids a warm smile then take Anthony in your lap as Gabi walks to the front of the classroom.

She hesitates for a moment and her eyes dart from you and Anthony to the door, as though she was expecting someone else to walk through. You get a sinking feeling in your gut when you realize she's looking for her papa. Her face falls a little bit when the door remains closed and the class goes silent, waiting for her to begin. You look at Gabi and give her an encouraging nod, not letting any of the disappointment you're feeling make itself known on your face.

Gabi takes a deep breath and starts to give her book report presentation. You hug Anthony a little closer to your chest as you both sit and watch, silently vowing to "accidentally" forget to cook Miguel dinner tonight.

Unfortunately, that night you didn't even get the opportunity to bitch him out because he came home some time around 3 am the next morning only to have to roll out of bed 3 hours later to beat the morning rush hour.

All of the excitement and positive momentum you thought you and Miguel were building after his suggestion to spend Valentine's Day together starts to chip away, day after day. He comes home in the wee hours of the night, missing dinner, homework, and bedtime. The kids seem to notice. Marcus snaps at you as you struggle to help him with his science homework. "Daddy knows how to do this stuff! I want him to help me, not you!"

You try to act like that comment didn't sting and answer in a calm but shaky voice. "Daddy's at work. I'm doing my best to help you and I need you to speak to me in a kinder tone, please."

Marcus grunts in frustration, stomping upstairs and slamming his door.

And, to make things worse, he begins picking more fights with Gabi than usual. Doors get slammed and toys get thrown as early as 8 am when a dispute arises over who gets to pick which cartoon is playing on the TV.

In the evenings, you have to scream at the top of your lungs and separate them after they start kicking each other under the table while little Anthony wails because he hates what's being served for dinner. The night ends with everyone in tears and all three kids eventually sleeping in your bed because they're too upset to stay in their rooms.

Miguel winds up on the couch or doesn't even come home at all, leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach with a painful side of resentment.

On Valentine's Day, you wake up and look over. Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are all in a pile lying against each other on Miguel's side of the bed. It's 5 am. You slide out of bed, taking care not to disrupt your sleeping babies.

You walk quietly downstairs, a storm brewing in your chest, a seething monologue you plan to unleash on your careless husband asleep on the couch again. You had his favorite bourbon, new cologne, his favorite snacks, and some new socks that you were going to set out for him to wake up to. He could forget about all of that now. He didn't even bother to get you anything, or even climb into bed with all of you at least when he got home.

You were preparing to hold his feet to the fire and ask where the hell he's been, if he's remembered he even has a family, and, if his sorry ass doesn't start coming home at a reasonable time or even issue a nearly two weeks overdue apology to Gabi for letting her down, that he can scrap your Valentine's Day plans, cancel the hotel, and you'll return all his gifts back to the store. Things haven't been this bad since Christmas when you nearly got divorced.

But, he's not there. The couch is bare. He spent another complete day and night at work. Didn't even come home so he could be there for you on fucking Valentine's Day. At this point, you just feel like crying. Frustration reached its boiling point and threatens to bubble over. You check your phone, the last text you sent to him was last night at 5 pm.

"Making dinner. Marcus is struggling with his science homework again and got upset with me. Will you please come home at a reasonable time tonight so you can talk to him about it? Are we still on for tomorrow and letting my mom watch the kids?"

The message was opened and read at 7:45 pm with no response. You walk outside onto your porch and call him, pacing back and forth restlessly as the phone rings.

----

Miguel walks through a portal back into his office at HQ, Felicia Hardy and Ben Reilly in tow. Felicia and Ben are bantering back and forth as Miguel notices an incoming call from you. Miguel's eyes are bloodshot, not having had a blink of sleep in nearly 18 hours

"Someone's in troubleee," Felicia teases. Miguel tries to brush off the comment as he nervously answers and utters a loud "FUCK!" when he realizes what today is.

Deep down, Miguel knew he had been getting worse lately. Diving head first into his work, so adamant on protecting the multiverse that he made himself blind to your needs and the needs of his children, seemingly a purposeful self-sabatoge. It was something you both unpacked early on in your relationship for you to eventually discover he had a form of depression.

A lot of it could be traced back to all those times where he was a boy who grew up way too fast as he shielded Gabriel from the obvious abuse his step dad inflicted on their family. He would take his responsibilities almost a little too seriously, always needing to be the solution to every problem, even if it meant setting himself on fire, and to the detriment of anyone close to him.

You two also battled over the age old argument the majority of married couples faced: the disproportionate division of visible and invisible labor. This was no doubt something that was ingrained in both of you growing up as a pattern that you two were fighting to try and break: the woman handles everything related to the home and kids, the permanent project manager of the family with little to no emotional assistance from the man. Meanwhile , the man works full time and makes such a healthy living that he can sustain her and multiple kids on it at once. The only domestic tasks he should be concerned with are the lawn and any random repairs around the house.

You were very supportive of his mental health of course, but it was times like these where you just needed him home, needed to feel like you didn't have to weather this storm on your own. A very distinct part of the vows you made to each other on your wedding day.

Sometimes you found yourself crying at night or when a love song came on, asking yourself if marriage was really this hard, or if love and the ideas of it that got planted in your head from an early age were just things of fiction. Something you clearly weren't meant to experience. Hell, none of the women on your side of the family did. Your grandma had a shitty marriage but stayed, your mom and dad divorced, and your aunt couldn't make any of her three marriages work.

You hear Miguel answer and you exhale with relief. "Did you get my text?..."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, "Yeah...Happy Valentine's Day... Lo siento, mi alma..."

(I'm sorry, my soul)

You cross your arms, his greeting and weak apology completely going over your head. "So, where the hell have you been? What have you been up to? I've said maybe 10 words to you in the past nearly two weeks. I've been doing this all by myself..." Your voice thickens and you begin to cry at last, "If you're hurting again you need to tell me..."

Miguel starts to interrupt you but you bulldoze over him, not letting him put out the fire that was lit underneath you. "I need you home. The kids need you home. I am not celebrating Valentine's Day with you in a hotel room tonight if you do not come home at a reasonable time this afternoon to see the kids before we need to drop them off at my mom's."

At that point, Ben makes Felicia giggle loudly in the background. The tone is flirtatious and breathy. The sound is awfully incriminating as it comes through on the other line. Miguel shoots a frantic, pissed off look in their direction.

Your heart does a death drop from your chest to your stomach as you hear it. The deep seated insecurity that always hung in the very back of your mind that liked to make unwelcome appearances, usually at the worst of times in your marriage. An unpleasant symptom of having a husband who was exceedingly physically attractive to practically anyone who laid eyes on him.

The fear he would eventually tire of you and leave you high and dry for someone else. Someone prettier. Someone younger. Someone who wasn't bogged down by responsibilities. Someone who hadn't shown him the worst of who they could be. Someone whose personality was more contagious than yours. Someone more intelligent and successful. Someone who was everything you weren't.

"Who the hell is that...?" you ask through clenched teeth.

Miguel's hand comes up, covering nearly his entire face as he weakly tries to defend himself. "That was....Felicia..."

Felicia. Of fucking course. Here we go again...You hadn't worried about her since the last argument you two had over Christmas when Miguel foolishly decided to throw it in your face that she was more pleasant to be around as a mindless way to hurt you in that moment.

The tiniest seed of insecurity planted that would cause you to spiral with overthinking whenever her name was mentioned, even when you knew she really had a thing for Ben and Miguel put in work to reassure you of the fact that you were still the sole apple of his eye. Miguel had probably just reset whatever progress you two made since then ten steps backwards.

He frantically tries to save himself on the phone but you're already checking out as we speak. "But Ben's here too! Ben's here, too! Babe! We were on Earth-5129, we've been stuck on missions that take all day. Their Sinister Six has been causing all sorts of problems. I'm not alone with anyone, baby, I swear to God. I just got carried away with work-"

"Oh, oh you got carried away alright..." Your tears are hot and salty streaks on your cheeks. "The kids and I will be staying at my mom's. Have fun on your little mission."

"Baby don't hang up I swear to God-..."

You hang up and set your phone down on the ground, crouching down so your head is in your hands and you're squatting in a near fetal position, not moving much except your shoulders gently shaking, causing you to try and rock in a soothing motion as you sob uncontrollably.

You cry and cry. You cry for yourself. You cry at the fact that you feel like a single married mother. You cry because you're frustrated you're not good enough at math to help Marcus with his homework. You cry at the memory of Gabi's disappointed, sad face when she had to give her presentation without her favorite person there to watch. You cry about your body and how you haven't felt beautiful lately, that unkind, irrational thought that perhaps if you were prettier, then Miguel would pay more attention.

You cry about not having enough time in the day to do the things you want to do and how motherhood literally has no breaks to just let you breathe. You cry about Miguel and how this marriage at times feels harder than it should be, wondering what happened to the man you married and just wanting him back.

After several minutes, you just sit and stare at the slightly overcast morning, the cold slowly announcing its presence, your emotions and stress had rendered you insensitive to its chill for most of the time you were out there. You tug your fingers into the sleeves of your pajamas and waddle back inside, pausing at the main floor bathroom. You make sure there is no evidence of tears before you get your kids ready for another day, determined to at least make their Valentine's Day magical even if yours was already off to a shit start. Emotions can wait, motherhood doesn't stop.

----

Later that night, Gabi and Marcus are passed out in the guest bedroom at your mom's, sugar high worn off once again, and little Anthony is snoozing peacefully in your mom's lap. She quietly rocks him in the recliner in her living room, her nose buried in a book.

She hears Miguel enter quietly, and she looks up. Disapproval obvious in her expression as she bookmarks her spot.

You didn't tell her you and Miguel were fighting, but she knows her daughter well enough to know something was wrong, and he was the cause.

Miguel greets her in a hushed tone so as to not wake Anthony. "Thank you for watching the kids tonight..."

Your mom acknowledges with a curt nod of her head. Miguel sits down. Before he can speak, your mom interrupts. "She's at the hotel..." She pauses, letting Miguel absorb the information. "She wouldn't tell me the truth, but I know my daughter well enough to know she's hurt."

Miguel takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah... I messed up big time."

Your mom continues, "All the kids are asleep. If I were you, I'd go fix it..." She takes a deep breath of her own, Anthony stirs a little. "I love you like a son, Miguel. But, I'm gonna say this nicely: you work too much. One day, before you know it, these sweet kids are gonna be all grown up, and you and your wife won't even know what to talk about anymore because you never made your marriage a priority."

Miguel nods slowly, taking in her words.

"Don't become strangers in your marriage like I did." Your mom says, looking sincerely into Miguel's eyes. It clicks for Miguel at last, and he knows what he needs to do. He just prays that you'll even let him get close enough to let you hear him out.

Miguel gives your mom a warm smile of appreciation and a stroke to Anthony's hair before he ventures out into the February air, off to go win your heart back once again.

----

You're curled up in the king sized bed in the executive suite of one of the fanciest hotels nearby. You and Miguel stayed there the night before you eloped, and it was your first time staying there since. You would have cancelled the room altogether, but it was too late by the time Miguel messed up, so you figured you'd enjoy it, even if you had to do it alone, dammit. If you were going to cry, then at least you'd be doing it while wearing the hotel's fancy bathrobe on the top floor with chocolate covered strawberries and champagne.

You popped one in your mouth to try and distract from your tears that threatened to leak once again as you watched Letters to Juliet on the flat screen TV. You sniffed loudly, and there was a loud booming knock at the door.

You stayed right where you were, having a hunch it was your husband crawling back, biting another chocolate covered strawberry, this time chasing it with a longer sip of champagne.

The knocks get louder and you mutter a "shit" when you hear Miguel start calling your name, his fist relentless against the heavy oak door. You get up cautiously, creeping towards the knocking.

"Abre la puerta, cariño, por favor!!!" (Open the door, dear, please!) Miguel yells. "Stop doing this shit baby, I'M YOUR HUSBAND! TALK TO ME!"

The neighbors across the hall open up their door and start chastising him. Something about "keep it down people are trying to sleep", "this is the first night we've had away in MONTHS", "take your relationship problems outside", to which Miguel loudly hisses it's none of their goddamn business.

You open the door, yank your disheveled, tall ass husband into your room, and slam it in the face of the Karens. Problem solved. You huff and turn around, making your way back to your champagne throne, not saying a word.

Miguel makes a loud sigh, trying to settle from 100 back to 0. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry..." His brown locks are unkempt, a little bit of stubble peppers his chin. His crimson eyes are surrounded by little bloodshot lines. In his hands he has a slightly wilted bouquet of pink roses, one of the last bundles they had available at the grocery store, and in the other, a little pack of caramel Ghirdadellis being held by a tiny stuffed gray hippo.

You take the stuffed animal from Miguel with a neutral expression on your face. "He can stay," you wiggle the hippo in your hand. "But you can't. "

Miguel groans. "Baby, NOTHING happened. I swear on our children."

You raise an eyebrow at the bold statement. "On our children?"

Miguel sits on the edge of the bed, pulling at the hem of your bathrobe. "If I'm lying, let God Himself strike me down where I stand."

"You're sitting," you murmur, unable to resist. Miguel gives an exhausted gasp of laughter.

"You know what I mean..." He says, trying to steer the conversation back on target. "I would NEVER do that to you in a million years. I was an ass, I know. I've been taking too much time at work and I neglected you. I neglected the kids..." He sighs and leans into your chest. You silently wrap your hands around his head, pressing him into you.

Miguel closes his eyes, taking a deep smell of your scent. All of his stress seemingly being tugged out of his head with every moment he stays squished against your heart. He tries to explain, "Ben and Felicia were laughing, that's what you heard on the phone..."

You take a steady intake of breath. "Miguel..."

"Te lo prometo...." (I promise you) He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes from where he's still sitting on the edge of the bed. "Te lo prometo" (I promise you) he repeats for emphasis this time, his voice reducing to a whisper, crimson eyes wide as though his pupils could pull you in and make you see the truth.

"You don't need to explain yourself..." You say, bringing your hands to cup his face. His eyes fluttered closed and he leans into them. When he reopens them, a thin layer of tears is evident.

When Miguel cries, you can't help but cry also. You press your tongue against the back of your teeth, and go back to playing with his hair instead to hold them at bay. "How'd we get like this, baby?..."

That sentence utterly breaks his heart because he's all too aware of his role he's played in being a strain on your marriage by now. This was unlike you two. He's unable to speak but a million thoughts sprint through his head. Life happened. We stopped making each other the priority. Yes, the kids' needs would ultimately trump everything else while they were still very young, but when was it going to be your time again? Instead of going back to the way things were, you'd have to get to know each other again.

Meeting yourselves again as the new people you evolved into, reunited over those tender words you promised each other on wrinkled paper you stole from a printer in a cramped city office building nearly 5 years ago. Your lovely face bore a jittery smile underneath your department store veil, Miguel's expression tender as though he could power a city from the affection on his face alone.

Now, on this late Valentine's Day night , he beckons you to sit next to him, which you do. He lays you backwards, following you and propping himself on his elbow. The shift causes one tear to escape, creeping into your hair. You sniffle, and Miguel looks at you with concern. "Life got in the way again...it's not your fault. It's mine..." He admits shamefully.

You stare at the ceiling, more tears trickling into your hair before you look at Miguel. "Why'd you marry me?"

Miguel gives you a soft smile and answers in a hushed tone. "I decided one day that I didn't want to be without you." He pauses and his smile disappears momentarily, then creeps back up again. "Do you still wanna be without me right now?"

You shake your head. "No...I was mad. But that doesn't mean I really want you to go. I've just missed you, baby... *sigh*.....can we end the night together?"

Miguel's expression liquefies, "Course we can...and tomorrow too, right?" He scoops you even closer. We'll take our time, maybe get breakfast at that diner you love? Take you shopping?...I got a lot to make up for," he chuckles.

You hum, bringing your fingertips against his broad back. "Yes please." You let yourself drown in his hug for several moments, then you say, "We really need to stop fighting and making up on all the major holidays. Hallmark is going to catch wind of it and make a film adaptation, just watch."

Miguel beams, a light snicker from his chest vibrates against your body. "Haha...you're right, baby. Can't keep letting them get away with it..." His hand moves to grip your ass. "I'll wait til St. Patrick's Day to act up instead..."

"Babe. No."

"I'm kidding!"

"No, just, no," you shake your head, trying to wiggle out of his grasp but he holds you firmly down, both hands moving under your robe.

"You're right, my apologies, Mrs...." he croons.

"O'Hara. That's Mrs. O'Hara to you." You prod the tip of his nose.

"Mmm..."

Miguel kisses the sides of your neck, his lips still contain the tiniest bit of chill from the outside. You sigh into it, your sweet sounds of surrender tickling his ears, evolving into a wave of warmth that covers every inch of him, making him tremble for what's happening next.

"Mrs.... O'Hara..." At the sound of his name, he slides two fingers into your pussy. Your lips fall open at the intrusion, a whine bouncing off the walls.

"Shh...." Miguel soothes, his fingers start moving in a circular pattern.

"Fffuck...," your back arches, encouraging him to go deeper. You've reached the point where you're completely vulnerable. Falling apart to your husband's sweet thick fingers.

Miguel kisses the top of your breasts, still coaxing the walls of your pussy. "There she is..."

"I love you so much..." you whine, almost desperate.

His eyes are completely intoxicated by the utter desire leaking out of your body and into his hand. "I love you, sweetheart..." his voice barely above a whisper, as though any noise that escaped him threatened to rip you out of the haze of pleasure you both were currently drowning in.

You lift your chin, capturing his lips in yours. Soft and wet, they move seamlessly as they had nearly thousands of times before. A familiar song and dance you two engaged in, yet seemed to take you to a place that felt brand new each time you did.

"Make love to me..." your murmur buzzes softly against his lips, leaving his breath hanging hot and heavy.

Miguel answers by making his kisses a little harder. Lingering for a second longer, his tongue weaving a little deeper, leaving yours burning for more contact. A steady stream that turned into a faucet. Every bit of you yearns for him. This man you loved so much. And he yearns for the same in return. He'd happily give into you any time.

He praises you as you take his cock. Your eyes closing momentarily to accommodate his size. He traces your lips, letting the bottom one drag down just a little, leaving an opening for his thumb. You suck it greedily, the callouses of his thumb massaging against the ridges of your tongue. You moan as you taste his skin, earning a low grunt from him in return.

"Mi luz(My light).....so, so gorgeous..."

The corners of your lips curve into a smirk as you continue, but you release it when Miguel begins thrusting harder.

"Shit...." Your head presses back against the pillows and Miguel leans closer to you, his soft breaths fanning you, his fingers combing over your hairline as he holds you in place.

"Swear your pussy drives me insane no matter how many times we've fucked..." Miguel groans in a low voice.

You wind your thighs tighter around him, your body on the verge of overstimulation. "Cum in me ... remember? Wanna give you another baby..."

Miguel lets out a moan louder in volume than any of the previous ones. "¿En serio, amor?" (Seriously, love?)

"Please....."

Your bodies intertwined in a knot of passion as he fills you completely with his cum. You hold him tight, intimate moments like these that only the two people occupying the bed would remember. The raw, dirty memory of the night you hopefully conceived your last child with him.

He stays buried inside you, not ready to separate just yet. Letting the afterglow of the passion wash over you both for several more moments.

Soon after, you're enjoying the steam of the shower as you and Miguel take turns washing another, the smacks of your lips together echoing off the tile leading to a wet slap as your hand comes up to steady yourself against the wall as Miguel dives between your thighs once again.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. O'Hara..."

----

🥰🥺

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spotify #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara angst #miguel ohara angst #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #Spotify

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radiance1 · 9 months

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Danny is so, oh so very tired about the amount of marriage proposals that popped up in front of him. Not even a day past his announcement as Crown prince either.

He's thankful that neither of his four parents are pushing him towards accepting it, but it's everyone (besides his friends of course) else who either try and subtly suggest it or outright asks him if he's chosen a spouse yet.

He's only 14! He doesn't need a spouse! And they were probably far older than him too!

Even Vlad of all people took some kind of pity on him and just decided to be a normal (for a billionaire) guy who isn't trying to kill his dad.

...However, that doesn't mean he wants him to seduce him either!

(Danny: Stop trying to seduce my dad you low-budget vampire!

Vlad, calmly sipping tea: No.)

If he wasn't majorly burnt out from the number of proposals he has to sort through, he would most definitely throw him far across town, away from his dad and mom.

He needed to find a way to stop all of these letters that just keep coming, and fast. He doesn't know how much longer he could take of reading fancy script over and over and over again, his eyes already hurt enough.

He tried to ask his Father for help, his only response was to choose a consort that he saw fit to stand alongside him. Then he had to flee before he gushed about his pops.

He asked his pops, who only said that the answer would come to him in time. Which was of no help whatsoever.

He asked his mom, she at least tried to help somewhat. Giving him some equipment to ward off any ghost who would try and forcibly take him as a consort, which had a low chance of happening considering his strength, but he was happy about it regardless.

He then finally asked his dad, after making sure that vampiric leech isn't near any of his human parents. Surprisingly, he had a pretty good idea of what to do.

He was a halfa, wasn't he? Why limit himself to just ghosts? Surely, due to his half-human status he could choose someone near his age among humanity.

Well, not in those exact words, but it was a great idea regardless! Plus, they never did specify if he had to choose a ghost consort anyways.

Now he just had to decide who to pick, really. His two best friends are out of the option, they're close, but not in that sort of way. Plus, Sam is busy with Undergrowth and Tucker bonding with Technus who was apparently apart of his family tree somewhere along the line.

Then, when he was sorting through the letters and was sure his eyes were about to bleed from reading so many fancy words, he felt it. A tug in his chest, gently urging him somewhere, and you know what, it's way better than what he was doing now, so he answered.

He felt the clothes he was swearing in that moment fade into away into the outfit he wore for his coronation. A suit, a crown made of the coldest ice from the Far Frozen, a cape made from the stars along with various little knickknacks made from various gems and a veil hung over his face.

He looked pretty good, if he says so himself. Though he didn't and still doesn't know the purpose of the veil.

He appeared in what looked like an event for a high society party, most likely filled with various rich people. He floated up and quickly looked over the people and released a sigh of relief that Vlad wasn't here, say what you will, but he doesn't fancy meeting with someone who's actively trying to seduce his dad.

He folded his arms behind his back, trying to imitate the imposing figure of his father from his place in the air, looking down at the cultists(?) below who summoned him.

"Who dares summon me." He stated, rule number one, statements hold power, questions do not. The cultist below fell to his knees, either out of devotion or fear, he didn't know.

"Oh, Prince of the infinite, we called you today for the sole purpose of serving this world to one of your standing, please let us be your servants and spare us when you plunge the world into ruin!" Ah, devotion, then. His eyes bore into the woman (from the sound of her voice) below, his silence working well to unnerve her and the other guests.

"Hm." The reward was already stated, but he neither wants too nor will take over the world. "Denied." It was short, swift, and to the point in his books, he thinks he's doing well acting out Pariah Dark!

"B-but my liege, the king-"

"What the king has been known for in the past, has nothing to do with me. You dare to assume something about me, lowly human." The human below him was actually fully blown shivering, now, slamming her head down onto the floor and shouting out a number of apologies.

Rule number two, do not take back requests you have already denied.

Ok, now he feels bad, that probably hurt a lot. But he's already come this far so-

"Is that the only reason you have called me, or do you require something else. Much of my time is not something you can afford." The woman was most undoubtedly about to say something, probably more apologies, or maybe something else, but the sounds of fighting reached the room and the doors slammed opened, the body of a cultist(?) flying through the air and the appearance of what were most likely heroes.

"Well?" He let that question slide, the cold around the room descending around the woman below as a bunch of other cultists tried to fight off the heroes.

The woman seemed hysterical with worry, most likely not wanting to go to jail, perhaps. She quickly took her head off the floor and tried to stand up, almost falling back to the ground but managing to find her footing. "M-my liege, please help us!"

He tilted his head. "And as to what, would you give me?"

"The sacrifice, yes! The sacrifice!" The woman quickly pointed below him, and only then, did Danny realize there was a boy bound below him, only to be met with a glare.

Danny hummed. Yes. That will do. "It shall be done."

Danny waved his hand, ice sprouting from the ground to force the heroes and cultists apart and then blasting a hole through the nearby wall and to the outside, a path of ice leading down to the ground. "Go." He commanded, the woman nodding her head quickly and calling to the others and disappearing outside, he then blocked off the hole with ice.

He then slowly floated downwards, besides the bound human, ignoring the shattering of ice and footfalls of no doubt the heroes trying to stop him from what he was doing. He leaned over the boy- about his age- and asked one question.

"Do you wish to become my consort?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #oopsie #Ended up writing lol #Anwyays #damian wayne #ghost prince danny #damian wayne x danny fenton #He's the guy bound up by the cultists lol #Danny needed to find a consort to not have to deal with marriage proposals anymore #He's sure nothing would really come out of this #Surely after this he could just claim the boy as his consort- if he says yes- and they could just go about their seperate ways #pariah dark #dp clockwork #dp dark ages #dark ages #darkages #Danny has 4 parents and then one vampiric leech trying to worm his way in lol

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gardengirl222 · 1 month

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husband!rafe and your kids attempt to prepare you a mother's day surprise! 💐

rafe sets down your daughter so she's sitting on the table after helping her put up some pastel ribbons, hearts and banners for decoration so he can walk over and check on the pancakes your son was in charge of.

"hey bud, those pancakes are lookin' a little...come on dude" he looms over the boy and put his hand on top of the little backwards baseball cap over your sons head.

"it's supposed to be mickey mouse!"

"well it looks like a sad bear...think mom will think they're cute?" rafe makes a face and turns his head to see more of the "sad bears" already on a plate.

"what do i know!?" your son shrugs and drops a few more chocolate chips onto the cooking pancake.

"ehh s'alright we'll just cover'em in syrup, whipped cream or something" rafe reasons with himself when your son arm swings back after trying to flip like a chef, ironically the most decent looking pancake flies to the opposite wall and splat! its ruined.

"aw man!" your son whines and rafe gasps dramatically. "careful!! jesus!!" he rushes over to clean the mess on the wall when your daughter screams and points to the oven. both rafe and your son's heads turn quickly to where she's pointing. "what? what's wrong baby?" rafe asks all panicked.

"dad! the oven!" your son backs away from the pancakes as the oven pours out black smoke, the french toast on fire. "what is that!?" your son furrows his eyebrows and runs to open a window. "its the french toast- or it was." rafe's face hardens in concentration, hoping the fire alarm wouldn't go off and wake you up, he grabs a towel to start to "put out the fire" or "cool it down" but that just makes the fire worse causing the alarm to ring. your daughters hands fly to cover her ears as she sits there watching, your son grabs the water in the glass jar on the table and hands it to rafe who splashes it on the flaming french toast.

"what's going on!?" you walk into the kitchen in you nightgown, picking up your daughter and holding her on your hip. the alarm still ringing, you turn your head to see your son stood on a chair trying to get the smoke away from the alarm to get it to stop. "go back to bed mama! everything's fine!" rafe shouts over the ringing and closes the oven quickly, he takes your daughter into his arms so he can shoo you away.

"kay guys, what do'we got?" rafe sighs after sorta cleaning up the mess and sits on the table with his kids. "we've still got the pancakes." your son points to the now broken plate with ruined pancakes due to the commotion earlier.

"uh nah bud, we've gotta scrap that."

"i have bubblegum grampa gave me for easter!" you daughter lights up as she offers. "no princess, you keep your bubblegum, we'll think of something else." rafe smile and smooths his hand over her messy baby hairs.

"well there's vanilla ice cream in the freezer and at least a few chip's ahoys in the pink jar." you son's eyebrows shoot up at the realization. "and strawberry wafers above the fridge." the boy points to where the wafers where supposed to be hidden.

"right, that works..." rafe smiles and picks up your baby girl to place on his hip and give a bunch of kisses to.

"oh my goodness! whats this!" you smile brightly sitting in your bed, pausing the movie you were watching as you see your little family come through the door, your daughter runs up to your side and hands you a card she made with glitter and lace. "thank you baby this is very sweet." you place the card against your heart momentarily, rafe walks up and places a silver tray on your lap with little scoops of ice cream, wafers and cookies. "happy mothers day mama" rafe smiles, quite proud of the little breakfast they managed to come up with last minute.

"thank you baby" you continue to smile, reaching your hand out to place on rafe's cheek as he bends down to give you a kiss. "there's more ice cream if you want s'more after, happy mother's day!" your son says smiling showing all his teeth and handing you a bouquet of casablanca lilies and a few of his baseball cards that he considers presents, you giggle and reach over to embrace him as well.

"s'very nice of you guys, so many beautiful mother's day presents!" you tell your kids.

"its not over yet, i've got s'more gifts for you in the living room." rafe grins and hands you a spoon for the ice cream. "i love you do you know that?" he asks and you nod.

"i do, and i love you, all of you guys very much. what happened in the kitchen earlier? everything okay?"

"i just wanna say again, i love you so very much." rafe smiles innocently ❤️

i wanna marry himmm

#gardengirl222 #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #gardengirl'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#dad!rafe #husband!rafe #dad!rafe cameron

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btsficsandsuch · 9 months

Text

It Worked, Didn’t It?

Jungkook’s family keeps referring to you as his girlfriend, but as far as you know you’re nothing more than friends.

You and your best friend Jungkook were on your way to Busan. It was his dad’s birthday and his mom was throwing him a small party. You were pretty nervous. This was the first time that you were meeting his family. The truth was you had a teeny tiny not so small crush on Jungkook. The thought of confessing to him crossed your mind multiple times, but every time you thought you had worked up the courage you would back out. You didn’t think he felt the same and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship.

You were shaken out of your thoughts when you felt a hand land on your thigh. “We’re here Y/N.”, Jungkook said with a smile. You nodded and opened the passenger side door and exited the car. Jungkook jogged around and grabbed your hand pulling you inside, your heart skipping a beat.

Once inside he introduced you to everyone as you made your rounds. He took you into the kitchen where his mom was putting the finishing touches on some appetizers. You watched him walk over to his mom and give her a kiss on the cheek. His mom noticed you standing in the doorway. She motioned for you to come over, “Y/N come in dear. Don’t be afraid.” You smiled as you entered the kitchen, “Thank you for allowing me to join in the party.” She smiled at you, “Of course. Jungkook’s girlfriend is always welcome here.” You felt like there was a knot in your stomach. Did she just say girlfriend? What did she mean by that? Trying to calm yourself down you told yourself it was probably just due to the language barrier. She just assumed you were a girl and a friend therefore a girlfriend. Right?

You were so caught up in your own thoughts you didn’t see the blush form on Jungkooks cheeks. The party was going great and you were having a good time. You just couldn’t ignore the fact that everyone kept referring to you as Jungkook’s girlfriend. You had been trying to ask him about it, but every time you tried he would walk away or make himself busy doing something else.

The party was starting to wind down and you were sitting on the couch next to Jungkook’s brother. To break the silence he cleared his throat, “So Y/N, how long have you and Jungkook been dating?” Your eyebrows furrowed, “dating?” He must’ve, noticed the confusion on your face, “Yeah we were all pretty surprised when Jungkook said he was bringing his girlfriend to the party. We’re happy for him though. He seems so happy with you.”

You were trying to take this all in. Why would he tell his family that you’re his girlfriend? He never even said anything to you. Suddenly Jungkook came out of nowhere, his face in a full on blush, “Y/N you ready to go? We have a long drive back home.” You left the couch and made your rounds saying goodbye to everyone before heading out the door.

Once in the car there was an awkward silence. You weren’t really sure how to approach the situation. Eventually you decided to bring it up needing to know what was going on. Clearing your throat, “Kookie did you tell your family that I was your girlfriend?” You could see him biting his bottom lip, something he did when he was nervous.

After a few moments he let out a breath, “Yeah Y/N I did. I’m sorry. I let it slip to my brother that I was going to ask you out and he told our mom and she called me really excited and begged me to bring you to the party so she could meet you and I didn’t want to back out so I just agreed. The truth is I had planned on asking you out a few nights ago when we were hanging out at my place, but I chickened out and couldn’t do it.” You thought back to that night. You remembered him being extra fidgety the whole evening before abruptly leaving to go to the restroom and coming back to announce he was really tired so you’d get the hint and leave. At the time you didn’t think much of it, thinking maybe he just didn’t feel well so you left.

He was beginning to ramble. Another sign he was nervous, “I was really hoping they’d forget about it, but I guess they were just too excited to meet you.”

You look up at him noticing that he looked like he was about to cry. He continued again, “I understand if you don’t want to be friends any more Y/N. I know I made it really awkward for you today because I didn’t have the courage to actually ask you out first like I should’ve.” You let out a small chuckle at how sad he looked. You just wanted to engulf him in a huge hug.

Right then then car pulled up in front of your apartment building. Jungkook sighed, “I can walk you up to your apartment if you’d like. I promise I won’t stay. I just want to make sure you make it in safe.” You nodded and the two of walked up to your door. You entered in the code and pushed it open walking inside.

You turned around expecting Jungkook to follow you, but he just stood at the entrance. “I’ll leave you be Y/N, sorry again that I put you through that.” You stopped him by grabbing his hand and pulling him in with you. “Do you really think I’m going to let my boyfriend leave without a goodbye kiss?”, you said before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you, giving him a kiss. “I can’t believe you basically let your family ask me out for you”, you said with a laugh. “It worked didn’t it?”, he chuckled before going in for another kiss.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff

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sailorholly · 1 month

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Between Us Pt 5

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst. Pregnancy.

See my Masterlist Here

Part 4

“Pregnant? How did this happen? I mean, I know how it happened but - Wow!” He runs over to you, placing one large had on your nonexistent bump. “I can’t believe we are pregnant. How far along are we?” Anger and disbelief surge through you.

“First of all, I am pregnant. Me, not you.” Spencer’s smile drops, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You sigh, this was a better reaction than you were expecting. You thought he would freak out. Although, you aren’t sure why. Spencer loves kids. He was never mean to you before. He wasn’t like the guys you normally dated.

“No, I’m sorry. These hormones are ridiculous. I know what you meant. And to answer your other question, the doctor said about six weeks. But, that was over a week ago. I’m probably almost eight weeks now. I have an ultrasound scheduled for the end of the week if you would like to come with me.” He looks hopeful, nodding his head as his smile widens. “Of course I would love to go. This is great. I gotta call my mom. I’ll clean out my spare bedroom so we can turn it into a nursery. I’ll need help moving some of my things into storage so we will have room for your stuff too. Maybe Morgan will help.”

“Wait, my stuff?” You ask, interrupting his rambling. “Yeah, you’ll be bringing your stuff too. You can put what we don’t have room for in storage with my things.” You cross your arms, preparing to argue. “Why would I bring my stuff to your place?” Spencer scrunches up his nose, “Because you’ll be living there?” He looks just as confused as you are.

“I’m not moving in with you, Spencer. Your spare bedroom is too small for me and the baby. There’s not enough room. Plus, you don’t need me there with our baby. That would be so hard to explain when you bring women home.” You mentioned other women because you were fairly certain his relationship with Ashley wouldn’t last. You place your hands on your hips, trying to understand his silly logic.

“I thought you could sleep with me, and the baby would have their own room. Why would I bring women home when I’m dating you?” Your eyes feel like they are going to pop out of your head. “Spencer, we aren’t dating.”

“But, I thought we would be a family now that you’re pregnant.” He explains. “We will be a family, but one that coparents. You’re going to be a great dad, Spence. I would never keep your baby from you. But, this doesn’t change anything between us. You didn’t want me before, and I don’t like that you only want me now because you got me pregnant.”

“But that’s not why I-“ “I don’t want to argue about this. We are really good friends and I would like it to stay that way for the baby.” “Okay.” He agrees, but you can tell you hurt his feelings, so you change the subject to what you will need for the baby.

You make a list, putting double the items down since Spencer will keep them at his apartment too. He’s going to ask for a leave for the first two months after the baby is born so he doesn’t miss anything. He will be staying at your apartment during those months. When he’s comfortable enough to have the baby alone, you will work out a new schedule.

Spencer orders some parenting books for the both of you online. He is so excited. You’re thankful that he’s the father, he’s a great guy. You just wish it could have worked between the two of you. “How are you going to tell Ashley? I don’t think it will go well.” You tell him, scrunching your face up. His face falls, “I forgot about Ashley.”

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl @xblueriddlex @spencerreidsgf420 @witchsbitchestime @lovelyygirl8 @chonkybonky @prentissesredtanktop

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds

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stone-stars · 3 months

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happy 6 years of naddpod everyone <3 (alt title: the dragon pussy podcast making me cry for 6 minutes straight)

Transcript:

Mee Maw: That's true, but… there's also somethin' else. Murph: And you see she pushes her cloak to the side, and you see she has black scabs-- Caldwell and Jake: Oh, no! No no no! Moonshine: Oh, Melora! Murph: --and deep crick rot all over her chest and neck.

Marabelle, weakly: Jolene? I-- I didn't realize I was gonna get to-- say I was sorry. Moonshine (pretending to be Jolene): Thank you, of-- of course you're forgiven! I love you so much! You're my big sister!

Melora: You're not cursed. You were born like this.

Hardwon: (desperately) Gemma? Gemma? Gemma wake up. Gemma baby. Hey. Murph: You see she's-- she's-- she's cold and dead. Hardwon: Fuck!

Balnor: I couldn't help them. I can barely swing a sword. Alanis: There's a war coming, and everyone needs to fight. Even old men who don't know how.

Beverly, crying: No, he's-- he's my light. He's my Pelor! He always was! I strayed!

Bev Sr: You tell her the truth, Bev. You tell your mom that I died in the Feywild. Beverly: (crying) You know I'm bad at lying. Bev Sr: It's not a lie, Bev.

Deadeye: Yeah, I know I'm down a hand. And an eye. And a life. But I got a soul, and a family. And I finally know which is worth more.

Deadeye: I hate to think about what woulda happened to me, but maybe more I hate to think about who I still would've been if I had never met you.

Rosa: JV, I can't-- I can't find my lantern. JV: Aw, well look at that? There's a lantern right here. Rosa: Are you sure that's mine? JV: Yeah. Yeah, I'll-- I-- I'm gonna go look for mine.

Hardwon: --interpretation. I-- I-- Moonshine: Hardwon, I really don't want you to want to die, because I want you to live so much and I don't want to be alone in that feeling.

Lydia: Elias, is that you? Hardwon: It's uh-- It's still little Elias. You saved the child, ma.

Lydia: I don't know what I've been these past few years, I don't know what I've been these past few decades. But I want you to know that when I was your mother that... you were wanted.

Murph: Somebody who felt they could never have a child… um, is holding their child. Moonshine: I-- I didn't want to need you, dad, but… now that you're here… it-- it's kinda nice.

Murph: Your father has given you... a strategy guide on how to beat him. Caldwell: I have to look away so that the tears don't ruin the pages.

Beverly: (tearful) I don't want to go. I don't want to go. But I have to. It's my duty. I have to do this. Moonshine: Okay, youngin, I want you to know. I will love you whatever you choose to do. But, here's my two cents: A child has a duty to his father, but a hero has a duty to the world. Now, I've got my opinion of which you are. But it's time for you to decide.

Bev Sr: Thanks, Bev. I always-- I knew I could make the deal, because I knew you'd stop me.

Moonshine: (tearful) I-- I've been wanting to tell you about this for so long, and I just didn't get a chance to. And I don't know if I will, so I just wanted to make sure I told you.

Moonshine, crying harder as she goes on: Paw Paw. You are… You are my best friend. And you are the best part of me. (sobs) And I am so grateful. For-- (sobs) the fact that so much of our lives have been braided together. But… where I'm going, next-- after we beat Thiala, which we will-- you can't come, mmkay? So I just need to make sure that you are taken care of, and I need to make sure that you take care of some people, okay?

Pendergreens: This time, you picked me up. And you were nice to me for no reason.

Pendergreens: If when you come back... if I'm different? Moonshine: Mhm? Pendergreens: Just, remember me as I am now. 'Cause I like who I am when I'm around you.

Death: I will take everything from you-- Hardwon: Quit pointing at people! Death: --until you come with me. Hardwon: Ok-- I'll go! I'll go. Beverly: Hardwon, no! Hardwon: Bring her back, and I'll come. Bring her back.

Lydia: All my life, people told me what I had to be. You don't have to be anything other than what you are.

Lydia: I think you should talk to your friends. Not because you owe them an explanation, but because you deserve to be heard.

Melora: Beverly. Beverly: Yes? Melora: I wish you could grow up in a normal world, but the Gods have not blessed you with a normal life. You are… afflicted with duty. Things thrust upon you far beyond your years.

Melora: The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor, what an injustice.

Moonshine: How long do Half-Elves live? Mee Maw: You talkin' bout Hardwon? Moonshine: I mean-- It's on my mind.

Moonshine: I guess, if I'm being honest, I don't know what it's gonna be like to know Bahumia without Hardwon Surefoot. (tearful) And there's a part of me that doesn't want to find out what that feels like.

Moonshine: There is something sour I probably need to swallow, though. It is-- There's people you meet that are once in a timeless body lifetime kinda people, right? Mee Maw: Oh, yeah. Moonshine: Okay. Mee Maw: And you keep 'em with ya. Moonshine: Okay.

Moonshine: (crying) It's okay, Balnor. Like all the most powerful things in this world, I knew I was only borrowing you.

Hardwon: Moonshine, when-- When I left Irondeep, I-- I didn't know where I fit in. And then I met you, and you didn't just let me in. You brought me in, and you thought I was good.

Balnor: I hope that you all get to leave this world with the same comfort that I had: knowing that it's in good hands. I love you. Murph: "Your knight, Balnor."

#naddpod #bahumia #happy six years of naddpod everyone!!#emily axford #brian murphy #caldwell tanner #jake hurwitz #moonshine cybin #hardwon surefoot #beverly toegold #naddclips #weavings

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kiri-thighs · 9 months

Text

Express | J.Fisher

FEM! READER

summary: you and jeremiah are best friends and you two get into a terrible argument on the beach after showing mixed signals of each other's company. you express your feelings for him at the end of it and he realizes with you two obviously ignoring each other that he has those same feelings for you.

warnings: angst, mentions of underage drinking, cursing + TAKES PLACE IN AMAZON PRIME VIDEO SERIES SEASON 2. If you don't want minor spoilers please don't read OR you can watch season 2 first!! this one shot does not completely go with the plot of the show!

thank you and enjoy lovely readers 🤍

"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N." Jeremiah said, half intoxicated due to them leaving a party at Susannah's house. Susannah was gone and all of you had decided to throw a party.

Rewinding to at least an hour before he had said those words to you, what led up to this moment was surprising. As you and Jeremiah were partying, about to kiss a fight broke out between Milo and Steven.

Another event happened where Skye ended up sharing the news about their mom, Julia making a deal with the kids that lived, well used to live at the Cousins beach house.

You and the others were allowed one week each summer, since the family that Julia had sold it to wasn't going to use it too much. Jeremiah, you and Belly hearing the news, all three of you were happy.

Though there was one person that couldn't accept the deal and that was when Jeremiah and Conrad ended up fighting. You were in the middle of it.

"Jere don't say that-" You said, holding his arm as Jeremiah pushed you away, which caused you to be taken aback. As Belly was leaving, Skye went after her. You stayed as you watched Jeremiah throw hurtful words towards Conrad.

"Jere stop-" You said but Jeremiah looked at you, after everything that he said to Conrad.

"So what you're defending him now too?" Jeremiah asked as you looked at Conrad, before looking down and shaking your head.

"I'm, I'm not sure." You whispered.

"Yeah. There it is again. The I'm not sure from Y/N. One happy thing, such a small thing that everyone could be happy about and you go and ruin it Conrad." Jeremiah said as he walked away.

As everyone seemed to go their separate ways, you stayed in front of Conrad as you felt your chest was hurting.

Conrad was silent, his eyes teary due to the words that Jeremiah said towards him. Conrad looked up as you were lost in thought, your mind vacant before you hear Conrad calling out your name. You looked up at him when he asked, "You okay?" his voice was shaky, hoarse and like it was caught in his throat.

"Yeah...yeah it's just," You started before sighing. "Last summer was messy." You stood there as your voice was shaky too, wondering why in this moment you felt like breaking down.

There was one specific person that you loved so much. That person was Jeremiah Fisher. Yet with how things were going last summer due to the whole love triangle, Susannah and other messy stuff, it was like that again.

You were caught in the middle of it and it was not until this summer that your feelings for Jeremiah were growing uncontrollably larger.

"As soon as school got out, hearing about the house being sold I've been trying hard too. To get the house back. To talk some sense into your dad. To talk to your aunt and I never once told anyone how much things have effected me." You said as your eyes teared up remembering the way Jeremiah and Conrad looked at each other with so much remorse.

"I love Jere. So much, Conrad" You whispered. "Last summer I realized I liked Jeremiah even if he's been my best friend my entire life. Seeing Jere and Bells kiss with Steven, I couldn't take that happiness away." You smiled as you wiped your tears, you weren't a drinker so these were your raw emotions, not intensified too much because there was no alcohol intake.

Conrad seemed to go more silent hearing that Jeremiah and Belly kissed, as if not knowing that already. It was a reminder that Belly couldn't choose. You looked at him as if apologizing for bringing it up.

"Conrad," You called out, "I wanna keep fighting for this house but I don't know how much more all of us can take if it's causing this much damage," You said truthfully as your tears were falling harder. Conrad was crying as well, his head held low before pulling you into a hug.

You two were somewhat the same. Bottling things up, though Conrad got the bigger blow. You hugged Conrad tightly as you sniffled, continuing what you were saying.

"I just had to be there for you both," You mumbled. "You are here," Conrad mumbled. "You are, you really are." Conrad said in a shaky tone, not knowing how else to comfort you. Not knowing if what he was doing for you was helping you feel better.

You didn't want Belly to be alone but the one person that needed someone, knowing that Conrad would go after Belly, you knew no one would be there for Jeremiah.

Conrad pulled away as you wiped your tears. Conrad wiped his away as he patted your head. "Go after Belly," You told Conrad. You pointed to his chest.

"I already know you will." You smiled at him as Conrad nodded. Everyone rarely saw you cry. You knew that you had just let it all go to Conrad, but knew that he had something to take care.

Conrad nodded as he slowly walked away from you, leaving you there to wipe your tears away in hopes that they would be gone. You took a deep breath before walking back into the beach house, the strobing lights still seen through the house's windows since the curtains seemed to not be covering any part of the windows.

You looked through the crowd, trying to find Jeremiah amongst the people dancing and drinking. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes always made you cringe, you and Cam always got along pretty well when it came to parties because you two didn't drink.

You didn't drink specifically because your mom died due to a drunk driver. You didn't want to be that way, and there would come a time when you would finally drink.

You saw spray painting on the wall, people breaking windows and tables as you shook your head, moving past people who were shoving you left and right.

Finally though you found Jeremiah standing against a wall with a red cup already in his hands. You were in front of him as he looked down at you with the same angry expression he showed Conrad.

He was ready to leave, pulling his weight off of the wall as he turned away from you. You grabbed his wrist quickly, making him accidentally drop the red cup in his hand, spilling the drink on the ground.

Jeremiah tried his hardest to hold back his anger, you being his best friend he couldn't be mad. Not at you completely. You looked up at him as he turned around, his eyes still averted away from yours.

"Can we talk?" You asked him, loud enough to go past the loud music that was playing.

"I don't see a reason," Jeremiah said as you bit the inside of your lip and held his wrist harder.

"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." You said as Jeremiah finally looking at you. The reason he didn't want to look at you was because he saw you crying on Conrad.

He knew the reason why you were crying and it was because of him. He knew that too well that he was the one that made you cry, yet he couldn't comfort you and say that it was okay.

Jeremiah pulled his wrist away from your strong grip before walking outside with you, to the beach, a different part of it since Belly and Conrad were talking as well.

You followed after him, as you stared at the back of his head before he finally stopped when you both reached your favorite log on the beach. He turned around as he stared at you with a look of anger still.

"If this is about what I said to Conrad, I'm not taking it back." Jeremiah said.

"Jere you didn't have to say all of that-" "He asked for my blessing, Y/N" Jeremiah started getting riled up, already feeling that anger was bottled up inside of him.

"Yes he did, but he needed someone, he needed his brother and this summer you guys have been butting heads indirectly but things were getting better," You said as had your hands out, you trying not to get teary eyed. Yes you were defending Conrad because he was in the right, but you wanted Jeremiah to know that too.

"Since when were we getting better?" Jeremiah asked as he scoffed, laughing a bit because it was unbelievable to him. "He took Belly away from me. I had to watch him and Belly together. I thought of all people you would know how lonely I was because I was there for my mom when no one wasn't." Jeremiah said, his voice partially raising.

You felt your heart ache as your tears were starting to become visible but you wiped your face while Jeremiah was looking away. You didn't know. How else to tell him. How else could you possibly comfort him?

"Jere," You called out, "I'm here," Was all that could slip out.

"Where were you then? When were you here?" Jeremiah asked as his eyes were tearing up, his eyes seeming to get rid of the anger slowly but it was evidently still there.

"You always comforted everyone else before you came and checked up on me. You ran after Belly when her and Conrad fought at my mom's funeral. MY MOM'S funeral. You told me that you would always be there for me first, you liar." Jeremiah pointed to his chest, as he was hitting his chest with his fingers as he was saying that.

You hated it. Seeing him in so much pain but you were in pain as well. "Jere, I tried to take care of everyone and I'm sorry. I swear I came to check up on you first you're twisting the story," You said, trying to stay calm, while Jeremiah was raising his voice at you.

"You know what, whose side are you on?" Jeremiah asked as he put his hands on his hips, turning his body as he was now rejecting looking at you.

"I saw Conrad hugging you," "Jere are you seriously doing this right now-" "Doing what? Watching you be comforted because you're what the girl version of me and Conrad combined? Bottling shit up and then acting like it's okay? Yet you don't even go and run after me?"

"You aren't making any sense Jere why are you blaming me for that thing specifically?" You asked as you put your hand on Jeremiah's but he pushed you away once again, like he did back there during his argument with Conrad.

"Don't fucking touch me." Jeremiah said with a rough voice. "Whose side are you on." Jeremiah asked as you bit your lip.

You clenched your fists, "What do you even mean Jere?!" You finally yelled which took him aback. You looked away as your chest was heaving.

"When was I here? I've been here the entire time! Being in the middle of you and Conrad. The middle of you and Belly. The middle of you three!" You yelled as you stepped towards him, you pointing your finger on his chest as you were pushing him with it.

"I was there even if I was in pain too. With my mother's death at the beginning of last summer, then Susannah was next. You don't see it do you?" You asked as your tears were falling uncontrollably.

"You needed someone and when you say no one was there for you I watched you miserably. I watched you and felt invisible. You focused on Belly so much when you guys had a thing and I had to act like I was okay with that." You laughed but it mixed with crying too.

"I tried so hard to continuously fix things. Every time Belly had a conflict with Conrad or you I would be there for her. Every time you felt so alone I was there. I was there for each and every one of you and yet you're asking me where I was?!" You yelled.

"Y/N-" Jeremiah said as he took your finger off of his chest and held your hand but you pulled your hand off of him. "I get how much Belly effected you. How much you love her," You said as you knew the next words that you were about to say were fucked up. You knew that you shouldn't put yourself before others.

"I love you Jere," You said, in hopes that he would return the feelings. Yet you knew. You knew that you two made a promise to one another that you would never fall for each other.

There was complete silence, the silence killing you but Jeremiah was taking time to process. The processing ended up stopping, but the next words that Jeremiah said towards you were words that you wished he would never say to you, but he did.

"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N" Jeremiah said as he had a face of disgust. An expression he never had towards you but to others. You saw the way he looked at you, the way that you wished he hadn't.

"So that's it," You said as your breath hitched before your next words came. "You and I were about to kiss, obviously getting even closer during this whole week and you say that to me," You said as Jeremiah looked away.

"That was a mistake," Jeremiah said as your lips quivered, tears falling harder. "I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to kiss someone." Jeremiah lied, but you didn't know that. Jeremiah knew that he didn't want to hurt you if he was still in love with Belly.

"You wanted to kiss someone?" You asked as Jeremiah nodded. "I love Belly." Jeremiah said straightforwardly. "We promised each other that we wouldn't."

"Fuck- promises are meant to be broken!" You yelled. "Can't you make an exception just this once? That you can love me somehow? The way I love you?" You asked, begging for Jeremiah to somehow look at you the way he always has.

The one time that you finally break, after being so worn out with being the therapy friend, the friend that everyone could depend on but at your lowest moments you could only depend on Susannah and Laurel.

Susannah was gone and that impacted you too but you knew that if you compared it to the pain that Jeremiah and Conrad felt, it would be selfish. That the mother figure that replaced your mom when she passed, was now gone and the last mother figure you had was Laurel.

"I can't fucking look at you." Jeremiah said, his breath shaky. "I can't believe you." Jeremiah said as he started walking past you. You didn't watch him leave, as you stood there, still in front of your favorite log that you two would always have heartfelt conversations on.

Before he could walk away completely, you turned to him. "You can't just leave it at that!" You yelled before Jeremiah stopped. You sobbed as you begged for him one more time, wanting his answer to change.

"Yes I can." Jeremiah said as he turned around, his eyebrows knitted. "I can say that I can't." Jeremiah said, his voice shaky because he was afraid. Afraid that he was losing you now too and it was because of the words that were coming out of his mouth.

You walked up to him and tried your hardest but still he pushed you off of him. He would never treat a girl like this, ever. Yet it seemed like you were a different case. He wanted to get away from you.

"Just- Just get away from me alright?!" Jeremiah yelled which made you stop. You froze and as you did, Jeremiah ran his fingers through his hair before his tears fell as his breath was hitching too.

You watched as he sobbed, his emotions seeming to stir in the pot but with each new ingredient in there, it was the wrong ones every time. You reached out to Jeremiah, but your efforts were short as he finally decided to leave.

This time you didn't go after him. As much as you tried to comfort him, he still walked away without turning back even if your cries were heard. You had tried to hug him, knowing that was always the solution but this time, that solution was last place.

You fell to your knees as you sobbed out, wishing that the conversation ended on a high note but it didn't. Your heart ached before you felt everything suddenly get blurry and shaky. Due to the many emotions you were feeling everything had gone black.

NEXT MORNING

The sun was shining over Cousins beach. The next morning came and everyone at the party was gone. The guests were gone at least except the mess that was left behind.

You felt your breath catch in your lungs before waking up when you felt the glare of the sun hitting your body. You woke up, getting up from the sand on the beach.

"Did I really sleep here?" You asked before your eyes softened realizing no one noticed you were gone. You were hoping Jeremiah would at least bring you inside or be concerned for you seeing that you didn't come inside later that night.

You had your hands on the sand before standing up, your legs feeling numb because of the emotions that were still hitting you right as you wake up.

You walked off of the beach and into the beach house, seeing that the door was wide open, before realizing Laurel's car was there in the driveway.

You blinked before you realized. You ran inside but was met with Belly walking out of the house. Belly was holding her cheek. "Bells?" You called out as held her arm, trying to stop her. She hugged you tightly, her tears falling onto your shoulder.

You were shocked seeing the amount of tears coming out of Belly's eyes. You held the back of her head as you hugged her tightly before she pulled away and walked out to the beach.

You watched as she left, your breathing on double time before walking inside knowing that she needed space. You saw Laurel there, with Steven, Conrad and Jeremiah.

Steven told Laurel that Belly and the rest of the kids were at least here for Susannah's boys while Laurel was absent. After hearing Laurel already knew about the house being up for sale. Everyone walked away from Laurel and apparently you now. Jeremiah didn't bat an eye at you, covered in sand.

Laurel looked over to you before you looked away. "I'll start cleaning up," You whispered. "Belly needs her mom right now." You whispered before grabbing a trash bag, feeling somewhat small as you started to clean the place.

It was an hour or two later that Laurel announced that she would fight for the house and talk to Julia about it. Everyone was thankful for Laurel, glad that Belly reached out to her mom.

You kept your distance from everyone as you felt invisible and sad again. You looked at Jeremiah a few times but he never looked at you. He really did mean that he wouldn't look at you at all.

Julia finally arrived and as the kids were cleaning up, Laurel pulled Julia aside talking at Susannah and her's favorite spot.

You continued to clean up as Belly came over to you with Taylor. "You okay?" Belly asked, her hand on your back. You didn't know that Jeremiah and the others were also listening in as well.

"Yeah, just a little tired." You told Belly. "Jere and I had a big argument last night." You smiled sadly. As Belly pulled you aside along with Taylor and Skye who seemed to tag along, Steven looked over at Jeremiah.

"What happened?" Steven asked Jeremiah who was scrubbing the wall, trying to get the spray paint off of it. Jeremiah shook his head. He knew if he thought about it then he would've said the wrong things somehow.

"Nothing," "Well it doesn't seem like nothing Jere. Taylor and I watched the whole thing. I wanted to punch you so badly seeing the way you made her cry." Steven said as Conrad awkwardly listened, still on the silent treatment with Jeremiah.

Steven put down his trash bag as he made Jeremiah stop too. "I get it. We've all been through a lot of shit man but I know damn well that you love Y/N. More than Belly." Steven said as Jeremiah looked away.

"I don't." "You really are an airhead like they all say." Steven chuckled before making Jeremiah face him.

"You may think that taking the easier option is better but the better option will always be there for you and if I'm going to be honest it's Y/N. You said it so yourself. Belly will always have something for Conrad. There's someone though waiting for you." Steven said since Conrad left the room. Jeremiah looked up at Steven as Steven was awkwardly smiling.

"I.." Jeremiah said before his shoulders fell, "I fucked up so badly," Jeremiah said as Steven agreed.

"Well yeah. Can't say that I don't agree with you cause I do." Steven laughed as Jeremiah nodded.

"I..I don't know. I just don't know." "Well you gotta know somehow. All the things you said weren't her true intentions and even you know that when you start to regret what you said. She's always been there for you. Through everything. Of course she would love you dude. It isn't hard to love someone like you. Especially her. She always finds a reason." Steven reassured as Jeremiah's eyes teared up.

"Do you think she'd forgive me? For the things I said? I've never in my life spoke to her like that. I've never said such harsh things to her and yet in that moment it felt that that was the only thing that I could do." Jeremiah explained, his obvious regret showing.

"Give it a day or two. You'll probably realize it more." Steven patted Jeremiah's shoulder. "What you said was fucked. Even I would be hurt if someone said that to me." Steven said, not trying to blame Jeremiah but he knew that the two would push through.

Jeremiah paused for a bit before nodding. He knew that he had to do something somehow. He knew if he wasn't there for you the way you were there for him, then no one would be. Hearing that you slept on the beach, eavesdropping and everything no one came to come get you.

Jeremiah knew that as a best friend he should've been there for you. To carry you inside despite being so mad at you. He knew that he put his emotions first. Who knows what could've happened. He wasn't there for you the way you were there for him.

Those thoughts of what he said to you last night started to course through his mind. He winced at the thought of everything as Steven went to go clean more.

He would give it a day or two, in hopes that he would realize it all.

That he needed you, and loved you the way you did.

Taylor was currently giving you a hug as you tried your best not to cry. You stayed so strong up until now but again, you were a carbon copy of Conrad and Jeremiah combined. Belly and Skye were rubbing your back as you cried.

You hated the words that Jeremiah said towards you. Taylor had heard it all with Steven and explained everything to Belly and Skye for you so that you didn't have to.

You closed your eyes, hoping that all of this was a bad dream. Hoping that what Jeremiah said wasn't meant. Your chest kept on going up and down quickly. You were hiccuping as your walls crashed down.

You hoped that the house would be in the possession of the boys. You knew though that you didn't want to be a part of it anymore. You told yourself as you were being comforted, that this would be your last summer at the Cousin's house.

THE NEXT DAY

As you all were wrapping things up, Conrad and Jeremiah had a heartfelt conversations the night before. It seemed that everything was able to be fixed yesterday except things with you and Jeremiah.

You of course included yourself in helping Conrad study for his test in Brown to get into Stanford. Everyone was all for it, especially Belly. Yesterday evening was the last time you saw Julia and Skye for now.

After being able to convince Jeremiah and Conrad's dad about selling the house they had in Boston, things started to get good from there.

The morning came around and things needed to finish up. With the house not being on the market, everyone needed to go home and would be able to come back whenever they'd like and whenever everyone had free time.

You smiled as you were saying goodbye to Laurel. While the others were saying goodbye to one another, you wanted to talk to Laurel first.

"Thank you so much Laurel for everything that you've done up to this point." You said as you were holding her hands. Laurel smiled as she looked at you. You looked back at her, and the obvious eye bags were under your eyes.

"I heard what happened between you and Jeremiah," Laurel said as she gave you a hug. "Thank you so much for being here for everyone. We'd love to see you here again next summer or this summer if anything." You softened up in Laurel's hold before holding onto her and smiling.

"I'll think about it," You said as Laurel nodded. Laurel slowly pulled away as everyone started getting into their cars. You ended up actually driving here, so you didn't have a problem taking your time getting home. You took a good look at the Cousins house.

You weren't ready to leave yet, as everyone was talking about when they would next be all together. Everyone was saying the fourth. You looked at everyone in the group before smiling and humming.

"Yeah, I'll be available whenever." You chuckled as you started waving goodbye to everyone. "I'm gonna stay here for a bit longer. Conrad tell me how the test goes. Tell us everything," You smiled as Conrad nodded, with a content smile.

"See you whenever, Y/N" You nodded as everyone seemed to be driving out of the driveway. You didn't notice that Jeremiah actually stayed behind, instead of driving off in his brother's car. Conrad ended up leaving without Jeremiah.

You had your back turned, oblivious to Jeremiah staying behind as you walked into the Cousin's house, going to the pool as you dipped your feet in the cold water.

You heard the door open and looked back seeing Jeremiah was there, his hands in his pockets as he looked over at you, sitting on the ledge of the swimming pool.

You slowly looked away, still kicking your feet gently. Jeremiah slowly sat next to you, dipping his feet in the water with yours. It was silent for a good minute as the awkward silence was sitting there with you two as well.

Jeremiah was the first to break the silence, as he looked at you slowly, seeing that you were watching your feet kick in the water that you were now used to since they have been in there for at least a minute.

"Let's talk?" He asked as you tensed up a little before shaking your head. "I don't see a reason to." You snapped back, repeating his words from last night. To your surprise though, Jeremiah said the exact same thing that you had said to him too. You both switched placed though.

"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." Jeremiah whispered which made you stop kicking your feet. You slowly looked over at Jeremiah, your eyes already teary eyed. Jeremiah stared at your hurt filled eyes as he winced seeing how drained you looked.

Jeremiah reached up as he cupped your cheek gently, but you pulled away a bit. Jeremiah still tried though, holding both of your cheeks as he took a good look at you.

"No," Jeremiah whispered. "Don't pull away," You shook your head more as you held onto Jeremiah's wrists, wanting to shove his hands off of you but you knew that if you didn't want to do that truly.

"But you did," You told Jeremiah as you continued to look at his ocean eyes. "You pushed me away," Jeremiah nodded.

"I know I did, and I'm sorry Y/N." Jeremiah said as he wiped away the tears that were streaming down your cheeks as they were coming down.

"You didn't eat today or yesterday. You haven't slept either. I saw you were still awake even when everyone else was sleeping." Jeremiah said as he put his thumb gently under one of your eyes, seeing the obvious eye bags that already grew.

"It's hard to when you're mad at me." You admitted. "I didn't think you would have noticed me at all since you said that you couldn't look at me," You looked away as Jeremiah's eyes softened.

"Everything with Conrad, I resolved all of it. We told each other that we would talk things out as they come and not let them linger." Jeremiah admitted towards you.

"Things with Belly..I already knew that I don't love her that way. That there will always be a better option for me and..Y/N that's you." Jeremiah said, trying to convince you that the words he said to you a night ago was wrong.

You continued to look away as Jeremiah was the one speaking this time. "I do love you too. In the way that a best friend does but the way that a lover does too." Jeremiah said as he slowly let go of your cheeks, grabbing hold of your hands that he noticed were shaking, seeing your body tremble as well.

He could still see the silent cries you were giving and he knew that instead of being jealous of others that he'd rather be there for you than watch you crying in someone else's arms.

You stayed silent as you listened to Jeremiah, still trying to register everything. "I know..it's hard to forget what I said. But I'd rather say this and take back all of the words." Jeremiah held your hands still, trying to stop them from shaking as he kissed your hands gently.

He closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry for the way I talked to you. I'm sorry for making you cry. I'm sorry for blaming you and lying to you that it was a mistake." You started to sob but Jeremiah didn't stop.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away and thinking you're invisible..you aren't. I needed someone and Belly couldn't be there for me because she was always with Conrad the most. I'm sorry for forgetting about you." Jeremiah's voice started to become shaky, starting to get emotional as he continued.

"I'm sorry for never realizing how much I loved you, Y/N." Jeremiah stopped when you took your hands off of Jeremiah's hands. With this, Jeremiah thought that you were going to get up and leave but you had your hands on his chest, pushing him gently.

Jeremiah looked up at you as you looked at him, hiccuping as your voice finally came out. "Stop," You whispered as you punched him gently, "Just kiss me already," You begged as Jeremiah's eyes widened.

Jeremiah put his forehead on yours as he watched you start to calm down, feeling how close he was to you. Jeremiah gently, hesitantly grabbed your cheek.

"I want to kiss you, I really do." Jeremiah said as your noses touched, booping one another's. "Out of all the people, it was always you." Jeremiah said before his lips hit yours.

Your body stopped trembling, as you melted into the kiss that Jeremiah had given you. Your first kiss was with your best friend. This was Jeremiah's millionth kiss probably but to you, this was the kiss you wanted it to be with.

You kissed Jeremiah, wrapping your arms around Jeremiah's neck as you pulled him closer.

He pulled you closer by the waist as he held you tightly, not wanting to let you go. You pulled away for a second before reconnecting your lips together with his.

Jeremiah tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear, feeling his chest was about to explode because of how much his heart was beating double time.

No one else could make both of you feel this way, both of you knew that for sure as you felt sparks. As Jeremiah slowly pulled away, Jeremiah stared into your eyes as he smiled softly, seeing how out of breath you were.

"The tears are gone." Jeremiah pointed out as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You pressed your lips against his curly hair, closing your eyes slowly.

Jeremiah looked up at you again, pulling away a bit from the hug. He connected his lips with yours again, kissing you was so easy to him it seemed.

You kissed him back instantly, smiling in the kiss because you felt better. You felt that things really were going to be okay with Jeremiah. Jeremiah pulled away this time, staring at your lips before pecking it gently with a smile.

Jeremiah rubbed your back gently before getting up and helping you up as well. Jeremiah held your hands before sitting down on one of the beach chairs with you. He put you on his lap gently, having you face him.

You had your hands on his shoulders, having some support as you stared into his eyes.

As you two were silently looking at one another, the silence was broken when both of you said at the same time,

"I love you," You and him stared at each other before laughing softly together.

"Let's stay here for a bit, then I'll come over and sleep over." Jeremiah said as you nodded.

"I'd love that, a lot." You said as you pushed all of your weight on Jeremiah's as he laid on the beach chair with you on top of him.

Jeremiah kissed your forehead gently, having his arms up as a arm pillow.

Jeremiah closed his eyes as he smiled softly. "Me too,"

#jeremiah fisher #tsitp fanfic #angst with a happy ending #fluff #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah fisher x reader #love #best friends to lovers #the summer i turned pretty #xreader #imagine #one shot

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deansapplepie · 5 months

Text

Everything with you, everything from you

Summary: Daryl and you always loved each other, neither of you acting on your feelings and him always scaring all the men that had interest on you. That is until you can’t take it anymore.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

Era: Commonwealth

Genre: Smut, Romance

Warnings: NSFW, smut (there’s a small plot), sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids), creampie, Subish Daryl, Subish Reader, Sweet Dirty Talk, Swearing, Age Gap (everybody is of age, but Daryl’s concerned somehow. Reader is on her 30s and Daryl on his 50s). 18+ Minors, please do not interact.

Word count: 5,505

A/N: English is not my first language so it may contain errors, even though I proofread it. It’s lightly implied reader is plus size, but everyone can read because it’s just small hints of it.

Masterlist

You were infuriated.

He infuriated you in the same amount he made your heart beat faster because of him.

It had been years of the damn apocalypse, years that you met him, years that your mom died and let you alone. It had been years since he became your best friend, protector and trainer. He taught you many things. He taught you how to fight, hunt and track. He also taught you about love, but he didn’t know it or he fakes he didn’t make you fall in love with him all those years ago.

It first started as a silly crush, when the world ended you were so young… you were in your first years of college when it all happened. You and your mom had become close with the Dixons at the quarry, Merle was a dick, but your mom made him respect both of you, as much as he could. Daryl… was Daryl, he was quiet and grumpy, but he was gentle and caring on his own way. Your mom’s origins wasn’t very different from the two rednecks, so she was able to understand them and where they came from, you were lucky that her and your dad could give you a better life. When the quarry was attacked by walkers and you mom got bitten and died, he was everything you had.

Still today, even with your big found family, you and him were like a package, you even shared an apartment at the Commonwealth and raised Judith and RJ together while Michonne and Rick were away. But your package… this package never included a relationship with him. You were on your 30s already, no boyfriend, no relationship and you couldn’t even blame yourself, guys did come to you and wanted to flirt with you, make plans with you… but he… he always ruined everything. He’d scare the men or make it impossible for you to go out with any of them. In the beginning, you thought it was ok, he was just worried, you were young and you were all still careful about people outside of your small circle. Then you started to think he also felt something for you and it made your heart beat fast and butterflies fly on your stomach. He never acted, he never did anything, and honestly you were tired of waiting for him, you were tired of being alone, you wanted to live just like everyone else. Have someone to hold hands, cuddle, have some physical contact and make plans for your crazy uncertain future.

You entered your shared apartment after him and knowing the kids were on a slumber party at Aaron’s, you closed the door with all the strength you had.

“Wha’ was that for?!” He stopped on his tracks and turned to you. He knew what it was for, He was just playing dumb.

“What was that for?” You sarcastically repeated his question. “Why do you have to ruin all my chances of going on a date with someone?”

“That guy’s a prick.” He leaned on the counter of the kitchen.

“Funny, ‘cause every guy that has some interest on me is a prick for you.” You took some cold water from the fridge, maybe it was going to help you calming down.

“Not my problem you’ve got a bad taste in man.” He picked an apple from the tray and started eating it nonchalantly.

You looked at him, more specifically at the back of his head that you could see from where you were at the kitchen, he felt that soon your stare was going to make a hole on his head, but he tried to fake normalcy. “Yeah, I think I really got a bad taste in man. But apparently that’s your problem since you can’t let any of them get close to me.”

“Why do you keep doing that, Daryl?” You asked, honestly, and he turned to look at you.

“Tomorrow, we have family game night. It’s important.” He said, and that was what he had just said to Jake the guy from your work that asked you to go out on Saturday.

“And I can’t miss it one week?” He was full of bullshit when he wanted to. “What about Sunday? Why did you say I couldn’t on Sunday?”

“Because… I don’t like him.” You rolled your eyes. You walked to the other side of the counter, one hand on it and the other on your waist.

“You don’t need to, I’m the one that has to like him.” You blurted out. You were tired incredibly tired of that sick silly game of his.

“I…” you didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t want to be alone, Daryl. Nobody comes close to me because of you. If you feel anything for me, grow some balls and do something about it, or stop getting on my way.”

The following seconds were a blur, in one moment you were feet apart and in the next you were being lifted to sit on the counter, Daryl between your legs and his lips crushing against yours. A hot messy hungry kiss on your lips, for a brief moment you were surprised, but then you closed your eyes and just let yourself enjoy the moment, take this once in a lifetime opportunity that you have been waiting for years. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your hands tangled and tugging on his hair. You kissed him back with the same enthusiasm and eagerness, you had dreamed about this for so long. His left hand was on your lower back and the right one was holding a handful of your thighs, your thick delicious thighs that he wanted for so long. You tugged a little harsher on his hair eliciting a groan from him, he pulled you against his body and you could feel his hard on, knowing it was all for you. He gave open mouthed kisses on your jaw and descended to your neck, making you grind yourself against him and a loud moan come from you.

And he stopped.

He simply stopped and pushed himself away from you.

“Fuck.” He said as reality hit him, or what felt like reality for him. “I shouldn’t have done this I…”

“Funny, ‘cause your hard dick says otherwise.” You said still sitting on the counter, cheeks blushed, lips plump and all the tension that had gone threatening to come back. “I’m not complaining Daryl, actually it’s the opposite. So why would it be a mistake?”

“This isn’t right. Ya’re younger than me. Shit… ya could be my daughter.” He said, hand on his forehead, the other on his face.

“Unless you fucked my mom, and I don’t know. There are zero chances of you being my dad.” You tried reasoning with him, was it what he was thinking all this time and not acting on it?

“Ya understand what I said. Ya’re way younger. I’m on my 50s and you on your 30s it’s… it’s not…”

“Right?” You asked. “Is it wrong that 2 consenting adults want each other? I’m not a kid anymore, you just said I’m on my thirties. When we met each other maybe it could have been messed up, I mean I was young and naïve, but still of age. But now? You really want to put the age gap talking on me?”

“Didn’t say ya’re a kid.” He retorted trying to not look at you since your flustered image wouldn’t help him controlling himself.

“If you don’t, it doesn’t make any sense thinking that what happened right now was a mistake.” You jumped from the counter and put yourself in front of him. “What is it? Are you attracted to me but is ashamed of me? Am I not beautiful enough? Not thin enough?”

“I ain’t this shallow, Y/N.” He looked at you, and it broke him seeing hurt and self doubt all over you. “I made a promise to your mother, before she died that night in the quarry. I promised I’d protect you…”

“And you did. I don’t need your protection anymore, you taught me how to defend myself. I don’t even need you to eat, I can hunt my own food if needed. So you’re free you from this burden, I should have never been your responsibility.” You were so angry at that moment tears on your eyes threatening to fall down, his promise should have nothing to do with it. “Well. Fuck. So here’s the thing, if you’re not taking me, acting on your feelings or whatever, Stop hindering other people to do so! I’m not gonna wait on you my whole life and be unhappy just because you’re so close minded.” The words left your mouth like the water flowing from a broken dam. You took your bag again and headed to the door.

“Where are ya going?” He asked before you could leave.

“I don’t know. Gonna decide once I leave. Don’t wait for me. I’m not coming back for game night, tell the kids I’m sorry.” You opened the door and left, no looking back.

He stayed there for a moment staring at the door, he had just let you go. He had you on his arms, just like he dreamed many times and he threw it away, he didn’t do all the things he wanted to do to you. He didn’t showed you how much you meant to him, he just pushed you away and probably lost you, not only on the ways he wanted to have you, but probably also as a friend. He was stuck, desperate and helpless, he didn’t know what to do now that you were gone.

When you left the apartment, you didn’t know where exactly you were going. Now, you had two possibilities. You could go to Carol’s she was your friend, but she was also his friend and he would want to go to her and you would lose your moment with her. So instead, you decided going to Rosita’s, they worked together, but he would not look for her to vent about everything and he knew Rosita would kick his ass if he went there looking for you, or at least you thought so. A plus was, you could also use Coco cuteness to calm and warm your heart, since your kids were not around.

When you knocked at Rosita’s door she wasn’t expecting to see you, and right when she saw you she brought you inside and put you on a tight hug. You had watery eyes and when your friend embraced you so kindly you couldn’t control the tears anymore and let them roll.

“What happened babe?” She asked sitting on the sofa with you and holding your hands. “Who hurt you? Was it Daryl? Want me to kick his ass?”

“He ruined my chances to go on a date, again. We fought at home. We kissed and…” Rosita didn’t let you finish given the new information that was something you never said before when you complained about the archer.

“Wow, slow down. What? You kissed? So why are you here crying?” She truly needed to understand, she knew there was probably more to it, but she couldn’t hold herself when you mentioned kissing.

“Yes, and it was the best kiss of my life. But it doesn’t matter, he ruined everything. When it was getting heated, he simply pushed away from me and said everything was a mistake.” You said, the angry feeling about all the happenings coming again to your mind.

“Oh, he didn’t!”

“Yes, he did. He says I’m too young for him. He’s…ridiculous!” You wanted to pull out your hair, he was making you crazy. “I hate him!”

“You don’t hun…” Rosita pulled you for another hug and you just rested your head on her shoulders.

“I… I think I’m giving up Rosi… I can’t keep losing time like that.” You had already lost so much, not that he ever made it easy for you to know other people and find someone, but maybe you should have imposed yourself many years ago and things wouldn’t have gotten so bad like now.

Daryl couldn’t stay at home. The silence there without you were deafening, he left the apartment and went to the only place he knew he could find some solace if it wasn’t with you. He knocked on the door and waited for the answer. He wasn’t expecting for this person to get the door.

“Hey, Daryl! Is everything, ok? You look terrible.” Ezekiel told the hunter while holding the door.

“I… I didn’t know ya were here. I’m sorry, dun wanna to spoil yer moment.” Daryl scratched his neck nervously.

“Nah, you’re not disturbing. Come in, Carol and I were just having dinner and talking.” The former king invited him in.

He entered the apartment and ended at the table opening his heart to Carol and Ezekiel about everything that happened. Carol listened to everything in silence, but she already knew everything she needed to know.

“You know she’s right, don’t you?” Carol said when Daryl stopped telling them everything.

“I dunno if she’s right.” He stubbornly answered.

“You’ve liked her since when? The farm? And she also liked you for a long time and you already knew that.” Carol told the obvious, but at the moment she felt like she needed to draw for the observant and smart archer.

“Since the quarry.” He mumbled.

“Ok, since the quarry. Whatever. Even earlier and you still act like you shouldn’t be together because of your 20 years difference or something.” Sincerely she thought both of you would have it sorted out a long time ago. “She’s not a little girl and you’re also not a little boy, so stop acting like one.”

“Daryl, love’s something so rare in the world we live in. You shouldn’t let some prejudice like this prevent you from being happy with the person you love.” Ezekiel spoke for the first time, he was careful with his words.

“I ruined everything already.” He took a deep breath. Damn. The way you looked at him, he felt like the biggest asshole in the world, keeping you away from happiness but also didn’t acting on both of your feelings.

“You can still do things right. You just need to quit this nonsense about age. She’s a good heart, and I know she’ll forgive you if you talk to her.” Carol felt like she needed to grab both of your hands and guide you through this like two kids, or you would stay in this cycle forever. “She forgave when you left with Merle, all the times you lied to keep her safe and I’m pretty sure she forgave you for all the years you stayed out there coming and going to look for Rick, and you ended up with Leah, you and Y/N weren’t anything other than friends, but don’t you think it hurt her while she loved and couldn’t have you? She wouldn’t be around if she didn’t forgive you.”

He didn’t say anything, he looked down and started to chew on his thumb, an old habit of his when he was anxious.

“Now, I know it will sound cliché and cheesy, but forget all this shit and follow your heart. Go find her.” She gave a small squeeze on the archer’s hand and have him an encouraging smile.

“Do you have any idea where she could be?” Ezekiel asked.

“Maybe. I hope she’s there and not going after that fucking prick.” He answered, jealous rising when he remembered your colleague asking you out earlier. “Thanks, gonna see if I find her. If not I’ll just need to wait for her.” He got up and was ready to leave.

“Go get her pookie! If you need some extra time I don’t mind taking the kids and having game night with them here.” Carol said taking Daryl to the door. “If you both don’t solve this, I’m going to kick both of your dumb asses.” She completed.

He walked on the corridors of the old building following the path he already knew by heart, whenever he’d not find you, he knew you would be there. He was nervous, it could go all kinds of wrong, but he needed to try if he still had a chance. He stopped in front of the door and took some breaths before knocking on it.

You were at Rosita’s kitchen preparing some pasta for both of you to eat when Coco started to cry and she had go look after the baby. In that specific moment you heard a knock on the door. “Can you answer it, Y/N? It’s probably Eugene or Gabe.” Rosita said already with Coco in her arms.

“Yes, of course.” You lowered the fire you were using to cook the sauce and went to the door, opening it without even looking who it was. When you opened you met the last and first person you wanted to see at the moment, damn your lovesickness for him. You were just going to shut the door right at his face, even though the house wasn’t yours, but he was faster and held the door. “What do you want? I told you to not wait for me.” You tried to sound monotone, but you were pretty sure you sounded angry.

“Ya didn’t say anything about coming after ya. I want ya, that’s what I want. I’ve always wanted ya, and I’ve been an idiot trying to deny it. We’re both adults and I was being stubborn and dumb about it. I love you and…” he stopped to catch a breath since he hadn’t breathed since he started talking. “…I’m incredibly sorry. Please forgive me, and come home with me.”

“Daryl, I love you too. You know I love you. If you go back on your words…” you started to say, your voice shaken with emotion, but was interrupted.

“I won’t. I promise.” He took your hand in his and looked at your eyes. “Let’s get home and make things right.”

“Go girlie! Grab your man!” Rosita shouted from behind and you had almost forgot she was there. Daryl had ignored it completely just now being aware of opening his heart to you in front of Rosita, and Coco.

“I’m going er… Can you just wait a minute? I’m finishing dinner for Rosi. As you can see, she’s a little busy with Coco.” You said going back to the stove and checking if the sauce was good.

While you finished the dinner for Rosita he sat on the sofa near Rosita and the baby, and they talked about something you couldn’t hear from the kitchen. You considered you must be dreaming, this moment couldn’t be real, but you just burnt your pinkie on the pan and it hurt like a bitch, so you were definitely not sleeping.

When you finished you told Rosita it was ready, you gave her a warm hug and you kissed Coco goodbye. You left the apartment with Daryl following you and soon his hand engulfed yours and you could swear you were in heaven, you felt all flustered. Daryl was no different, he was a blushing mess from his cheeks to his ears. His mouth a thin line, his lips pressed against each other trying to contain the smile that wanted to come out.

Once you got home you opened the door and entered first, you waited for Daryl to lock the door and when he turned to you… You attacked him, you crushed your lips and body against him pressing him against the door. Daryl wasn’t going to lie that he didn’t want that to happen, he wanted that a lot, but he wasn’t expecting you’d like to engage in such activities so soon. He had imagined maybe cuddling with you on sofa or bed, talking about you or making dinner together. But he wasn’t going to sign a complaint, he was more than fine with your choice for your first night as a couple.

He quickly kissed you back, his hands coming to your back sliding on it and ending on your butt which he grabbed and pulled your body against his. You gasped in surprise and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, your hands were on his nape and on his hair tugging at it and scratching his scalp. You felt his erection against your belly and you couldn’t resist but slip your hand down his body and touch it, earning a groan from him. It was so hard and by the outline you could see it was thick too. You just couldn’t wait to feel and taste his cock, you unbuckled his belt and worked on the zipper opening his pants.

You shoved your hand inside of his pants now groping his dick with only the thin layer of his boxers separating your hand from touching it skin to skin. He threw his head back leaning on the door, groans and grunts escaping his lips.

“Do you like it Daryl?” You asked your eyes on his face registering all of his reactions on your memory.

“Yeah, a lot… ugh…” The way he was at your mercy was so delicious that you couldn’t contain yourself into teasing him.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” Your hand went up a little, your thumb holding on his waistband.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna be good. All for ya… Anything for ya…” he answered, his eyes closed his mouth agape and a little sweat on his temple.

“Good, so I’m gonna take good care of you. Ok?” You said while you pushed his boxers down with his trousers letting his dick spring free from it looking deliciously glorious. You took it in your hand, pumping it, playing with it… gods… your mouth was watering. “It’s this hard for me baby?”

“Yeah, always this hard fer ya.” He nodded, a groan escaping his lips at each different touch on him.

You got to your knees and he wasn’t expecting this, this wasn’t like he imagined your first time together to be, but again, he wasn’t complaining, he’d take everything you wanted to give him and you’d have more time to do it in all the ways you could and wanted.

You pumped his cock a little bit more and before giving it all of your attention you gave a delicate kiss on his balls. “Oh, fuck…” he hissed, goddamn how did you come so boldly like this? You licked them, your hand never stopping pumping his shaft and your eyes never living his face. Now he looked at you he wanted to watch you with the face of an angel work sinfully with your mouth. You started sucking on his balls making him moan and god, it was delicious hearing him moaning. You sucked both sides of it and just by doing it you had already a pool in your panties. Not that you wanted any other man, but after this you’d want to only suck his dick.

Your mouth left his balls and went to the base of his cock, giving open mouth kisses while your hand would wipe its head. You put both of your hands on his firm thighs and licked all along his shaft. “Damn! How can ya do it so well, angel?” He hissed, hands flattened on the door and the wall.

“You cockblocked me all those years, but at least I had some fun before the world ended.” You said before kissing the tip of his dick, just to put it in your mouth and swirl your tongue on it.

He wanted to throw a sassy remark at you, but at this point his brain couldn’t formulate anything coherent so he decided to just appreciate what you were giving him. One of his hands went to your head massaging your scalp while the other continued supporting him on the wall, it was so good that he felt like he would fall. You’d take little by little, more and more of him while you hummed on it at how it tasted deliciously like Daryl and his pre cum. You started bobbing your head up and down, going further and further, his moans and his hand on your head encouraging you to continue and when he alerted he was about to cum you slowed a bit, you wanted it on the top of your tongue, you wanted to fully taste and savor him. You touched his balls while sucking him and soon he was shooting his seed inside your mouth while he grunted and moaned your name. You swallowed every drop of it, not wasting anything.

“Tasty…” You wiped your mouth and he brought you from your knees to stand up.

His lips crashed immediately on yours, changing positions and pressing you against the wall. His taste on your lips and on your tongue making him taste himself on your mouth. He kicked his pants and boxers like he could without breaking your kiss, still wearing his boots, but now his legs were free to move. He lifted you from the floor and you got the cue to put your legs around his waist, her urged you to take your shirt off and took a moment to kiss your neck, shoulders and collar bones.

He started to walk, taking you to his room and you couldn’t care less as you took this time to kiss, nibble and suck on his neck. He threw you on his bed and took his boots off frantically, you were on your elbows observing him as he took your shoes off and threw them anywhere in the room. You observed him only using a black sweater, bare legs and his cock that you had sucked the life of a few minutes ago was already standing proudly. You licked your lips and he didn’t let it pass, having a smirk on his face.

He came back to you hovering you on the bed in between your legs, taking your lips one more time while his hand travelled down your body palming your covered bra. His hand went to your back and how he was able to open it so easily was a mystery to both of you. He massaged your breasts with both hands giving slight pinches on your erected nipples taking moans from you. His mouth came to your left breast while his hand took care of the other and his other hand descended to work on opening your jeans.

Once your pants were open he pulled them from your body taking your panties too. God, there was too many layers he needed to have you. He came back with his mouth to give the same attention to your right breast while his hand covered your wet covered pussy.

“Is this by just sucking my cock?” He took his mouth from your breast spit slipping from his mouth. “I barely played with ya.”

His fingers slipped between your folds making you whimper. “Princess, I made ya a question. Don’t ya wanna be a good girl and answer?” He watched you, observing every reaction you had. His thumb touching your clit and circling it, a cry leaving your lips.

“Yeah… it’s because of your cock.” You replied breathlessly. “It’s so delicious… ugh…” One finger slid inside your cunt.

“Are ya my good girl?” Husky voice, his finger pumping in and out of you.

“Yeah…” A second finger went inside of you. “Ugh… Dar…”

“And who d’ya belong to?” He asked finger fucking you, a lick to your neck savoring you and sweat.

“You… I’m yours…” Your hips bucked onto his fingers. He started scissoring, his thumb pressed on your clit.

“Whose pussy is this, hugh?” You were a trembling moaning mess, your cunt clenching around his fingers.

Damn. You were close. “Daryl’s! It’s yours…” His fingers going in and out of you, playing with your button till you burst out in your orgasm clenching and spasming on his fingers. His name being moaned again and again.

“Fuck. Ya’re so good fer me.” He kissed you passionately, fingers pumping you slowly, till he broke your kiss, just to have a taste of you from his fingers and slipping them in your mouth so you could suck and taste it too. “Such a good girl… what should be yer reward?”

“You know what I want… but first…” you tugged at this black sweater that he was still wearing, fuck, you wanted to feel his body against yours, skin to skin, the mix of your scents with sweat and the smell of sex.

He took out his shirt throwing it on the floor and coming back to you, looking at your eyes, his hands caressing your head scratching your scalp. “Now, tell whatcha want sunshine…”

“I want your dick, full inside of me. Please…” You pleaded your hands wandering on his chest, going down on his abdomen.

“Ya ask so nicely, I could give ya the world.” He kissed you, deeply, slowly and sensually, this time wasn’t like all the others despaired and craving for the other, it had more. It was as if this kiss could mean everything, all the years pinning for each other, all the feelings that were hidden, the lonely nights thinking about each other, the inability to be satisfied never having the other…

He aligned himself to your pussy and he pushed inside. You gasped, it had been so long… and you’ve been wanting this for so many years, that none of your fantasies or attempts to reproduce the feeling with your fingers could compare to having him inside you. He slowly bottomed out and started to move once you were comfortable. His hips trusting onto yours rhythmically and yours doing the same unable to contain your moves and the need for the man between your legs.

“Fuck, ya’re so delicious. I should’ve had give in to yer temptation earlier.” He groaned nibbling and sucking on your neck.

“Dar… ya do it so well…” Your arms around him holding on his shoulders. “Hhgmmm…”

A thought crossed his mind for a single second and he didn’t think twice. He rolled both of you so you’d be on top, his hand moved to your hips. “Ride me, I wanna see ya riding me…” you sat on top of him, he still inside of you. You looked at him and… Daryl has always been handsome but fuck… were he gorgeous right at that moment.

You moved your hips, both hands on his stomach, going up and down right on your rhythm, rolling on top of him. “You feel amazing…” You closed your eyes, throwing your head back, your hair down framing your face… in Daryl’s mind he was being fucked by a goddess., you glowed in all your glory. You felt you were close, that so familiar feeling inside of you telling you’d explode at any moment, you quickened your pace searching for your breaking point. You could feel by the way Daryl’s dick was twitching he was close too.

“Y/N… love… I need to pull out I’m…” you interrupted him, going faster by every second.

“I dun mind. I wanna everything with you, everything from you…” If he didn’t mind of course, but you didn’t had the time to say it, hearing your words were the ignition he need to erupt inside of you, filling you with his cum and bringing you to the edge as soon as you felt his warm seed inside of you. “Daryl, fuck…”

Your body collapsed on top of him, your head laying on his chest hearing to his quick heartbeat and heavy breathing, both of you calming down and relaxing on each other’s arms. He rolled you again, so now you were resting on the bed he was on top of you. He looked at you, his hand on your face admiring you.

“I love ya, I always have.” He confessed.

“I love you too.” You said teary eyes, you were so happy you weren’t able to control.

“Shush… dun cry, I’m not pushing you away ever again.” He said thumb caressing your cheek.

“I’m so happy.” You said trying to control your happy tears and failing.

He pulled out of you, your mixed fluids coming out and spreading on the bed. He took a clean humid cloth cleaning you and the bed the better he could. Then he joined you in bed again, holding you, your head on his chest, a blanket over both of you. You talked about nothing and everything, imagining how the future would be and imagining how the kids would react once they knew you were finally together.

In the middle of talking you fell asleep, while Daryl stayed awake a little more thinking on how long he deprived himself from happiness and how lucky he was that you never gave up on him, until he fell asleep. Little did he know that you also thought you were the luckiest woman for having him by your side all those years and finally being able pour your love on each other.

Final notes: Hope you guys enjoy it, it took me some time, but I’m happy with it.

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