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iamasaddie · 7 months

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if my life is mine, what shouldn't I do?

PIMP!Joel masterlist paring: Joel Miller x fem!afab!Reader rating: explicit word count: 5.2k summary: There’s tension between you and Joel, and you, are failing to understand why the man’s behavior changed. You are placed before a choice once again. warnings (for the chapter): angst; angry Joel; emotionally unavailable Joel; oral (f receiving); unprotected PinV (‼️); light praise kink; light dirty talk a/n: this honestly took a lot from me. thanks to @multiversed-daydreamer for being my beta for this chapter, ily bby <3

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

Morning was gloomy. It’s been bucketing down all night, and instead of finding the sound peaceful, you struggled to find sleep. The past three days the weather in the QZ became worse and worse, and you could say the same about Joel’s mood. You doubted it was because of the clouds, but as the wind tried to break flimsy-looking wooden window frames, Joel started breaking things around the house. Accidentally, or so he said.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of him, but you found yourself trying to be less and less in his presence. For some reason, unsure that you wouldn’t be another thing he accidentally breaks. His usually light-hearted demeanor and stupid quips turned into constantly furrowed brows and snarky remarks. You tried to find the reason for such a drastic change, but couldn’t. Maybe it was something outside. Something besides the rain. Deep down, you knew it wasn't just external factors causing Joel's sudden shift in behavior, you just couldn’t quite put it together.

You shivered under your blanket, trying to get warmer with your knees pressed tightly to your chest. It felt like the dampness seeped through the walls and gradually started soaking into your bones, making whatever clothes you had useless.

"Fuck," you muttered to yourself and started running cold palms up and down your legs, to bring some warmth to no avail. The rain was still assaulting the only window in the living room, and with dark clouds overtaking the skies it was almost impossible to see without turning the lights on. You knew it was morning, your biological clock was the only thing that worked properly in your body, but you could see fuck all. Still, unwilling to somehow wake Joel up, you decided to go to the kitchen, surrounded by almost darkness. You wrapped your blanket tighter around your body and paddled to the kitchen, dragging your socked feet on the wooden floors.

"Where did he put his fucking tea?" You discovered a weird habit of talking to yourself when you were alone now. Living with four people and working with even more before you moved here made you cherish every moment of silence you had, but now, when there were plenty, it felt weird to not hear someone talking all the time.

"It's in the cupboard above you."

You jumped out of surprise, not hearing Joel come up quietly from behind. His voice was groggy with sleep and already irritated.

"You scared the shit out of me," you exclaimed, your heart still pounding. Joel rolled his eyes.

"Didn't think I'd startle you considering I am in my house, and it shouldn't be a surprise for you that I get up in the morning to go to my kitchen to drink a cup of my coffee from my mug," Joel muttered, his annoyance evident in his voice.

You felt anger bubbling in your veins as you tried to put down the cup you were holding in your hands as lightly as you could manage so you didn’t break it. What the fuck was his problem? Surely he wasn’t angry you didn’t have any more lessons after you sucked him off, right? It‘s not like you were against it, he just never said anything and you felt weird to ask. But that didn’t give him the right to treat you like that.

"What the hell, Joel, did you get your period or something?"

"No, I didn't get my fucking period, but it looks like I will be bleeding soon since you're draining me this good." You stared at him not blinking, his jaw clenched and you could swear you heard his teeth grinding against each other. "You've been here for more than a fucking week, and I don't see any money coming in my pocket, you just keep eating, and wasting my hot water, and…-"

The blood pumping in your ears made it almost impossible to hear what he was saying, you saw his lips moving, baring his teeth, but it was like you had cotton in your ears. Your chest started rising and falling faster, your breathing rate accelerating. You felt your back muscles tense up and tried to shake your head before starting to talk over Joel.

"You were the one who told me I needed to learn first to…-"

It was his turn to interrupt you.

"I know what the fuck I said. Just didn’t think you’d take so fucking long." He turned on his heels, stomping out of the room and you were ready to scream, quivering with frustration, but he seemed to change his mind, turning back around and rushing towards you. His face hardened, the redness of it fading as he looked you in the eyes. "Today's the last lesson. I'm going out, get yourself ready, take a bath. I'm gonna show you basic positions, and you’ll start working Monday.''

"But…" His words felt like a final sentence, the judge's hammer hitting you right on the head, and all the words that you could say remained in the form of "o" on your lips. Before he left the apartment, he turned to you once more, taking in your sunken form.

"You can leave if you change your mind. If you're here when I'm back I will take it as you made the decision to stay." Your heart throbbed with uncertainty as his words reverberated in your mind.

You felt desperation mounting on with every step that you took towards the bathroom. Yes, he said you still had a choice, but in reality, there was only one option, and both of you knew that. When you stepped into the familiar space and turned on the shower, you didn’t feel the temperature of water running down your tight skin. Unfortunately for you, you quickly grew fond of the perfect little moments of enjoying Joel’s hot shower every day, prolonging your stay under the warm spray by three minutes every day, which apparently pissed Joel off. Today was different, however, and you wanted to get out as soon as possible.

Your mind was fogged as much as the small room you occupied, the only thing cutting through your dullness was fear of the quickly approaching uncertainty. You didn’t know where it came from, since you had been preparing yourself for what was about to come from the moment you said “yes” to Joel now more than a week ago. You just thought you’d have more time. Even if you didn’t know what you needed that time for. You still hadn’t seen the place where you were going to work. Joel said he’d show you around it soon, it looked like ‘soon’ meant Monday.

If only you knew what you did wrong. Was it something that you said that prompted him to turn his attitude 180? Or was it all a fucking act from the beginning, and now he was just showing his true colors?

You started replaying your moments together from day one. He was never overly polite or gentle, but he seemed honest, and you’d grown to respect that. You got used to him speaking his mind, be that less than kind comments about your cooking skills the only time you tried to make breakfast; or the amused snort when you suggested to suck him off on the second day of your period “to practice some more”. You remembered the overwhelming hot wave of embarrassment taking over you from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet when he barked a laugh and shook his head, saying that you were good. Was that the reason for the change in his behavior? Because that was the day it all began. Were you too eager? Too annoying? Did he think you faked your inexperience to get a warm place and a full belly for a lesser price?

Fuck.

You hated being in the dark, both literally and metaphorically. His honesty was a gulp of fresh air that made you slowly build some trust, even if it was one-sided, and now he became as confusing as the rest of them. Or, again, maybe he always was, you were just too fucking naïve to see.

Your soapy hands moved along your body on autopilot, and you only realized you washed your hair when the bubbly water started stinging your eyes. You hurried to face the water and tried to wash as much of it off as it was possible, rubbing your eyes until you saw colorful dots dancing behind your eyelids.

Still clueless about the reason for Joel to be mad, you made a decision to think of it as him showing his real face. There was nothing wrong with you, he was just an asshole. And tonight you were going to fuck that asshole. Or, rather, he was going to fuck you. You could only hope that he’d be fast, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you because you were his investment, but you didn’t know if he’d care enough to make you come. After all, he did tell you that your pleasure would never be on your future clients’ agenda.

You turned the water off, shaking as the coldness of the room started sinking into your skin, and put on his borrowed t-shirt and a pair of simple black cotton panties he brought you on the day you started your period. You figured there was no reason for you to put on pants, as what was ahead of you asked for even fewer clothes than you were currently wearing. Finding your usual spot on the couch, you threw a blanket over yourself, the room smelled musty and damp, and the rain kept beating staccato on the windows matching your heartbeat with its rapid taps. You felt tears biting the corners of your eyes and hurried to wipe them before they could stain your cheeks. You were going to be fine. You didn’t know why you were so sure, but it was like intuition inside you telling you that no matter what, you were going to get through it and you were going to be fine.

"You’re gonna grit your teeth, ride his cock, and then you’re gonna be fine." You whispered to yourself, clenching the soft material of your blanket in your fists. "You're gonna be fine, baby. You always are."

Exhaustion overtook your body quicker than you could realize, and your sleepless night ended up in you blacking out in the most uncomfortable position on the couch in the middle of the day. You opened your eyes when you felt a burning sensation on your face, and for a second you thought that was the sun shining through the window and warming your skin up. But it wasn't the sun, it was Joel. When you saw his brooding figure towering over you, your heart leaped into your throat. You felt it pounding there, cutting off your airflow. Joel’s brows furrowed, a deep crease forming between them, as he watched you choke on your own spit and start coughing. You wiped saliva from the corner of your mouth with the back of his hand, and when he was sure you were looking at him, he nodded his head toward his room. It was a pretty clear gesture, and you followed him silently, uneasy because he didn’t say a word.

His movements were slow, calculated. As you closed the creaking door, he was already taking his button-down off, revealing a washed-out, once-upon-a-time white undershirt. You froze. You had never seen him undressed. Even when you stood on your knees in front of him, he only took his jeans halfway down. At first, you thought he might have been insecure, after all, he’s not a young boy, and no one looked good in the New World anyway, it wasn’t a priority anymore. But seeing him freeing himself so easily now, apparently, you made a mistake in your judgment. You were brought back to reality with the clinking sound of him unbuckling his belt.

He seemed very comfortable with his nudity with how easily he untucked and took off his undershirt. It was the first time you saw his chest, and as you saw him, a quiet gasp left your lips. Something he chose to ignore, folding his shirt instead. It was… a lot to take in. His skin was golden, a bit lighter than his arms, and you could clearly see the t-shirt form of his tan, he was mostly hairless, except for the curly trail of salt and pepper hair going from his navel and hiding into his jeans. But what made your eyes widen was the amount of ugly scars across his skin. Some were new, some old, you could tell by the different shades of red or white. You could also see at least three badly healed bullet holes: one on his shoulder, and two closer to his lower stomach. His body was telling you a story of battles fought and wounds endured. A story of Joel’s survival, something you thought you’d never hear from the man himself.

"You… You fought a lot?" You couldn't stop the question from leaving your lips, and Joel winced when you vaguely pointed at his naked chest, not picking one scar but all of the ones you could see instead.

"Don't ask your clients that. Ever." He clenched his jaw, not meeting your eyes.

"No, I know, I wouldn't, I just thought you… Anyways, yeah. Sorry." You hated when you started babbling, but no matter how hard you tried to control it, you couldn't stop.

"Jesus." Joel sighed, shaking his head. He did that a lot. "Just take off your clothes and get on the bed, okay?"

You nodded, grabbing the end of the t-shirt that dwarfed you in your clammy fingers. As you struggled to peel it off, you felt a rush of vulnerability swirl within you. He had already seen you naked, so there was nothing new for either of you. More than that, he already had his fingers inside you deeper than yours ever were. And still, your palms are dampened with cold sweat.

"When the client tells you to undress, he expects that the process won’t take the whole fucking hour he’d paid for."

He hadn't been calling you a rabbit for a few days now, and you hated how much you missed the stupid nickname. As if with it, the warmth that used to make his house different was gone. You nodded, more to yourself than to him, and took off the t-shirt in one swift movement, leaving yourself bare in front of him save for the panties. Joel tsk’d. "When you’re at work, you don’t wear panties unless it’s required by the client. It’s usually not. And even then, you don’t wear something like that," Joel scolded, disappointment filling his voice.

"You brought me these." You felt smaller than a fucking ant, embarrassment and uncertainty hunching your back, trying to protect the grains of your dignity by crossing your arms over your tits. There was no familiar surge of desire that you had gotten used to feeling when Joel was near. It was psychological, you said to yourself before, your body associated him with pleasure, so you felt that buzzing heat in your lower belly whenever he was in your periphery. But it was gone now, nothing now was even close to that exciting feeling. Cold tied your bones, and you thought that you looked now more like a prey, rather than a sexy predator that you were supposed to be. You glanced at Joel, trying to decipher the subtle changes in his expression. You noticed his furrowed brow and the slight tension in his jawline.

"Just, lose the shit and get on the bed, okay?" You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as Joel's words pierced through you. He was never rude before. A bit condescending to your immaturity at times, yes. But never this fucking… rude. You couldn't let his harsh words discourage you, so you simply nodded, putting on a harder shell as you dropped the items of your clothing on the floor where you stood, and awkwardly crawled on his bed. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as soft as the couch you’d been sleeping on, the mattress harder and more firm under your hands and knees. You plopped on your back, staring at Joel patiently. You tried your best to not let your vulnerability show, burying your trembling hands beneath you as if to hide the unease creeping up inside you.

Joel followed suit, discarding his jeans and boxers in one go, avoiding your eyes but looking all over your naked body. You noticed that he forgot to take off his socks, but didn’t mention it. He got on the bed, his body towering on top of you, and you felt that you started to suffocate with so much of him around you. His weight pressed down on your chest, making it even harder to catch your breath.

"Aren’t you going to.. um.. say something?" You tried to calm down your breathing, nowhere near aroused. Joel lifted his brows as he looked at you. There was something more inside the brown pools than just anger or annoyance.

"Men won’t pay you for a chat." He spat, his words a dull echo in your buzzing brain. He dropped next to you, not crowding your body with his anymore, instead giving you a different command. "Get on your hands and knees."

"What?"

"Get on your hands and knees, goddamnit, that’s the most popular position. Higher to the pillows."

You scrambled to do what he said, physical vulnerability was something you could deal with, you told yourself. Or it was something you had to learn how to deal with. The moment when he got behind you was awkward, you didn’t speak, you almost tried not to breathe. When you felt Joel’s massive hands engulfing your hips, you closed your eyes, waiting for something, anything. He spread your asscheeks, two of his thumbs holding you open and reflectively you tried to close your thighs together.

"Don’t." Was the only thing he said, as he continued squeezing your asscheeks. You understood that it was for something other than pleasure. The only thing you realized was that when arousal and want don’t clog your mind with intoxicating fog, sex is weird. You start to analyze your movements, how the position must look ridiculous, and why do people even bother sticking their genitals into each other? Your train of thought was interrupted when Joel slid his index finger down your slit, your folds sticking to his dry thumb, betraying your lack of arousal.

You heard Joel inhale, it wasn’t irritated or surprised (you didn’t notice how you learned the different ways he inhaled), it was just deep. You could almost see how his naked chest rose and fell.

"Are you afraid of me?"

His question caught you off guard and you had to think about it for a second. Were you? You were definitely intimidated by his power, his strength, but that had never stopped you from feeling that pinch of heat in your lower belly when he was near. And now you were just… confused? Sad? No, you were definitely not afraid of him. You shook your head.

"No, Joel. I am not afraid of you."

"Okay."

You heard the bed creak and you thought he was going to leave you, leave the room, get annoyed that you weren’t ready. But instead, you just felt the mattress shift, and then a wet persistent stripe being dragged from your clit to your entrance. You jumped, "Fuck!"

He was... was he giving you oral? What the fuck, why would he do that? Not expecting such a thing, you moved further up the bed, detaching his face, or rather his tongue, from your pussy.

"Where the fuck are you going?" His hands grabbed you by the thighs, practically dragging you back into him, and he circled his arms around you so you couldn’t get away.

His tongue was hot, and before he licked another stripe you felt him spitting right onto your core. Arousal that was nowhere to be found mere minutes ago showed its treacherous face, combining with a glob of Joel’s spit that dripped down your slit. "Do men pay to do that?" You stammered, knowing full well there was no way in hell men would pay to make a whore feel good. But why else would Joel do that to you now, then?

He hummed in your pussy and you felt goosebumps rushing from your ass and down your thighs, giving way to a new sensation. Joel unlatched his lips with a smack, "only the ones who have good taste."

"Oh, I just… I thought you’d just… fuck me."

"If I were to do that," the way he interrupted his sentences with wide stripes of his tongue, sliding the wet muscle from your now pulsing clit to dive into your welcoming entrance, drove you insane, "you’d not feel very good."

"You want me to feel good?" Something trembled, and this time not just in your stomach.

"I don’t want you to feel bad." He answered flatly, diving back in with such vigor that you fell further on your elbows and pressed your head into the pillow that smelled like the man between your thighs.

You had never felt anything like it, when he alternated fat swipes of his tongue to piercing kitten licks on your clit, you wailed shamelessly. He made you feel more than good, your pussy fully dripping and you just hoped he wouldn't suffocate when you pushed your hips harder into him, resulting in his nose catching on your entrance. You couldn’t think about anything but the buzzing need to get your pleasure, chasing it like a wild hungry dog chasing a rabbit in the forest. You could swear you heard Joel call you a good girl in between the ravenous licks and nips. He was lapping at your juices, vulgar slurping noises interrupted by your sighs and moans. You felt something trickle on the back of your thighs and you wondered if it was sweat, your arousal, his saliva, or everything mixed together. Somehow the excessive bodily fluids didn’t disgust you, on the contrary, they ignited the fire inside you. When you felt like you were about to snap, Joel chose that exact moment to feed three of his fingers into your pussy. The stretch was sudden, and the sting scared your orgasm away, but it wasn’t terrible. He sucked on your clit, spreading his fingers inside you at the same time, which felt like too much.

"Joel it’s, it’s too much." You whined, your voice muffled by the pillow you continued to bite with his every thrust.

"You’re okay, baby," he placed a kiss close to your entrance, licking your opening stretched around his fingers. "You gotta take it, so it feels better when I’m buried inside your pretty cunt. Okay?"

"O—fuck- kay. Okay." You took a deep inhale, the stretch bothering you less and less as his tongue continued abusing your twitching clit. Sometimes he would leave it to come back and lick all the expanse of your pussy up to your asshole. It’s like he wanted to clean you, instead of letting you create an even bigger mess.

When his fingers plunged into you with no resistance, when your gritted teeth relaxed, letting your moans out of your fucking soul, that’s when he stopped.

"Why’d you…?" You snapped your head back, looking at him with confusion. Oh, what a sight he was. His chest marred with scars and wounds was accessorized by pink and red blotches, covered in sweat and glistening. The veins on his neck were prominent, like he was screaming, or tense, and his face. Fucking God, that face. Drenched from nose down, some of your juice still stuck to his scruff and he wasn’t in a hurry to wipe it off. No, instead he licked his lips slowly, burying your taste within his mouth, as his raven black eyes stared back at you. If that was how an animal looked at its prey, you were ready to become his meal. Nothing existed for you at that moment. No situations, no statuses. It was just raw pleasure, and he was the one providing (and denying) you with it.

"I’m gonna fuck you now." As he said it, you looked lower where his hand, still slick with your wetness, tightened around his cock. It was ridiculous how it still looked massive in his enormous hands and your breath caught. If it was hard to fit his fingers, you couldn’t imagine shoving that thing up your pussy. How did you even manage to suck him off? He must’ve seen the hesitance on your face. "Don’t worry, baby, you can take much more than that."

You nodded, not quite believing his words as he came closer. Just the feeling of his tip at your entrance made you clench, and he squeezed your hip at first, the pain of his grip a satisfying distraction, and then he returned his fingers to your clit, holding his thick and throbbing shaft with three fingers of his left. "Relax, baby, it’s gonna be good, I promise," his murmur was gentler than you expected, gentler than before, and when he rolled your clit softly between his fingers, you felt him press a kiss to your shoulder blade. He’d never done that, he never kissed any part of you, and either out of surprise, or because you felt excitement drowning down your fear, you pushed your hips back, swallowing half of his tip. He took it as an open invitation, slowly pushing all of him inside you in one slow motion, making you regret your eagerness.

"Oh my god, oh my fucking fuck, what the fuck, oh no no no. Why are you so huge? How are you so huge? Are you part horse? What the fuck?" You couldn’t stop stupid words and questions from leaving your mouth as his length practically split you in two. You felt him with every tiny molecule of your body, it’s like his cock pierced you from your pussy and up into your throat, you could swear you felt his tip hitting your fucking glands. You heard him chuckle, but he stilled, only his fingers continued playing with your clit.

"It’s because you’re- fuck," he gritted through his teeth, resuming slow motions, "tight as fuck." It felt like it took you forever to get accustomed to his girth, his length, you thought you could count the veins on his cock just by feeling them with your pussy. "Relax, baby, come on. Make it good for yourself."

You wanted to snap at him, did he have any idea how much cock you had to take at that moment? But then he twisted his hips, punching a spot inside you that made you cry out, and not in pain. "Theeere we go," he almost sang. You didn’t say anything, couldn’t bring yourself to form any coherent sentences or even words as his speed increased. His fingers left your clit, instead finding their place on your hips. He almost treated you like a little rag doll, tugging you on his cock instead of pushing in himself. The heaviness of his balls bruised your sensitive pussy, and as you grew more and more used to the size of him, the sting of stretch bringing more pleasure than pain, your moans grew louder. His pace was relentless, your whimpers and his growls the only music accompanying the wet slaps of your body. The coarse hairs above his cock pillowed your ass, as he snapped his hips especially hard. You grew hungrier and hungrier with each time Joel’s tip bruised that spot that made you a dizzy whining mess. Now, you pushed yourself on him like you wanted to swallow even more of him, even though realistically you thought that if there was more of him you’d need to find a doctor. Your back arched with impending orgasm, you just needed a little bit more of… More of something.

"Play with your clit, come on, you know how to do that," his voice sounded pained like he was on the verge of breaking. You followed his order, shoving your fingers between your swollen folds and finding your throbbing clit. You needed five hard strokes in total to drop down. Or to lift up into the heavens. Maybe both, because your body shuddered and you fell on the bedsheets, the sudden loss of Joel’s cock almost painful, as your mind and soul traveled to cloud nine and higher. You could barely make out his hisses and the wet sounds of his hand working his cock to completion until his cum hit your body trembling in the post-orgasmic bliss.

"Never let them cum inside of you, by the way." He said matter of factly, as he dropped on the bed next to your spent body, his cum tainting your asscheeks.

The silence of the room was broken by your loud breathing. Your lungs felt too small for the amount of air you tried to inhale. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say after everything, but the silence was more than uncomfortable. You felt your skin start to itch with every passing second, and you doubted it had anything to do with a sheen of sweat and his cum slowly drying up.

"I know what you did." Joel’s voice was surprisingly even, no heavy breaths or husky rasps. You snapped your head to look at his face, he was staring at the ceiling. Your body was inches away, nothing but your bent knee touching his thigh connected you.

"Wh.." You weren’t given a chance to ask the question, Joel’s eyes meeting yours, fire dancing in the brown irises, but not the one that was there an hour ago.

"Don’t you even dare," he hissed, and you wanted to hide your head in your chest like a turtle. "You pull that shit again," he pointed his thick index finger at the wardrobe, and you felt like someone splashed you with a bucket full of ice. He knew. "Or anything close to it, and you're out of here. Not even out of the apartment, out of the picture, back on the fucking streets hungering to death, you got it?" Even though it was a question, it didn’t sound like it needed an answer. Hot embarrassment washed all over you and you felt it pooling in your eyes.

"I’m sorry." You whispered. You really were sorry, you shouldn’t have done what you did, but there was no way to take that back. You were mature enough to admit your mistake, but apparently, it wasn’t enough for Joel. He lifted himself laying on his side and facing you, keeping his body up by leaning on his elbow. Looking in your eyes for a second, he studied your features, you wondered what he saw there because his face didn’t soften.

"Answer my fucking question. You got it?"

You nodded and hurried to answer because you felt like your silence would only piss him off more.

"Yes, Joel, I got it."

"Okay." He stared at you for another long minute, his eyes gliding over your lower lip that was now trapped between your teeth in an attempt to keep any other words silenced. His nostrils flared with a heavy exhale, eyes closing as if he was exhausted, and then he dropped back to his pillow without opening them. "Now go," he said flatly, "I need some sleep."

don't forget to leave a comment if you liked the chapter 🐇🤍

#iamasaddie fic #pimp!joel #htbs #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

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mari-the-bimbo · 8 months

Note

hi! can you write something about dorm mate!geto arguing with reader but then they would apologize (idk whose fault it was) please 🙏

A/N: Thanks for the idea bby!! Plot twist: they don’t apologise, you know I love miscommunication tropes right? 😋

Dorm mate Geto: Just friends

It’s Friday night and you find yourself at one of Gojo party friends’ party again. It’s kind of a tradition. You, Gojo and Geto heading out for a party so get that much needed social time in your busy lives. You don’t join them all the time, but when you do, you feel good.

You and Shoko laugh at the drunk Utahime who was having the time of her life. You enjoyed watching your usually uptight friend letting herself go once in a while.

But when she started loudly explaining why Gojo was unfuckable, you and Shoko decided maybe it was time to leave the party.

“Come on Princess” Shoko says sarcastically to Utahime, while you help bring the drunk girl to her feet. “Let’s get you home. Hey y/n, you need a ride home babe?” Shoko asks, swirling the car keys around her finger.

“Nah I’m good thanks Shoko” you say with a smile. “I’ll see if Geto’s ready to go” you add, knowing Gojo was probably hooking up with someone right now.

“Cool. See you later chick” Shoko says and you wave goodbye to them before walking back to find Geto. You check your phone, 00:31 it reads. Past midnight, okay time to leave a party right?

You squint, looking to find the black long haired man, but when you finally spotted him, you wished you didn’t.

Your handsome dorm mate sat on a sofa, with some pretty girl wrapping her slender arms around his broad shoulders. He whispers something in her ear with his signature lazy smirk, the girl laughs brightly. No doubt Geto said a dry but flirty joke, something you thought was reserved only for you.

You think you feel a bit sick. Heartbroken was what you actually felt. He hasn’t seen you yet, you hope it stays that way. You hope he didn’t see you foolishly waiting on him, while he got cosy with some other girl.

Was it always like this? Did he always get cosy with other girls but your delusions made you think it was only you? How silly. What you once thought was a sweet blooming romance between you and a dear friend was nothing more than a minor situationship to him.

You turn your heel and speed out the house before you could embarrass yourself anymore.

1:01 AM

You swirl your ramen absentmindedly in the pot, hoping the warm noodles will fill the emptiness you feel in your stomach.

Suddenly you hear the door open and shut. You didn’t dare look up, there’s so much to stay but you choose to stay silent, hoping Geto won’t notice you in the dim lighting in his drunk state.

But that never works.

“You hungry doll?” Geto chuckles as he spots you. You don’t answer, scared your voice will crack.

“Well how about I help out and make you some hot cocoa yeah?” He says, with a smile that feels fake to you now.

“No. I don’t want a drink” you say abruptly, you cringe internally, knowing how rude you sounded, but you can’t help but feel resentful.

Geto stops in his tracks, slowly turning towards you, long hair strands framing his face.

“You okay hun?”

You wince, ‘hun’ was the last thing you needed to be called by the man who just broke your heart.

You silently just stare at your ramen, trying to play it cool, be the chill girl who doesn’t really care, but you already messed up. You were a born a person who cared too much.

“You shouldn’t call me that.”

“What? Why?” He says, an unimpressed frown on his handsome face. You stare silently at your ramen again.

You sigh when Geto pushes in front of you and turns off the stove so that he can have your attention.

“Look at me and tell me what’s wrong” he says.

You cross your arms almost in defence, disobeying him by staring out the window instead. “What am I to you Geto?”

“My favourite girl, of course” he answered softly in a heartbeat, taking a step closer to you, but you move backwards.

You shake your head. “No” you say, “that’s not what I am. What is our relationship? Are we friends or more?”

The room falls silent.

You sigh, wishing you never asked and hurt your own feelings. The silence answered your question. Friends.

“If we are friends, then we should put some distance between us” you say bravely.

You look up at Geto, to find the usually composed, chill guy look shattered. Black eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open. You’ve never seen Geto look off guard, you almost feel bad.

“Oi… what do you mean by that?” You can hear the anger bubbling through his throat, he’s trying his best to stay calm.

“I mean stop flirting and touching me Geto, do that with the girls you’re romantically interested in” you assert your stance, slightly raising your voice to your own surprise.

“Thats-“ Geto starts but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

He pauses before starting, now stepping away from you.

“I’m.. sorry I caused any inconvenience for you. I won’t do it again.” He says formally, putting his hands in his pockets and walking out the small dorm kitchen. Black hair stands dangling in front of his face as he keeps his head down.

Leaving you alone with your broken heart again.

771 notes · View notes

saetoru · 2 years

Text

#𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆’𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ kento’s adjusting to life with a scarred face and body, one day at a time, hand in yours.

— pairing ⋮ nanami kento x reader

— length ⋮ 5.2k words (it could be worse methinks)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, post-shibuya incident (i've not rly gotten that far into the manga, so there isn't too much from it), nanami lives, he's having a hard time adjusting to his scars :(, insecure nanami, hints at ptsd, mentions of marriage and having children, body worship, blowjobs, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, creampie — he might be ooc i tried my best 🥹

— notes ⋮ this was supposed to be posted for his birthday…which was a month ago :,) anyway happy (very late) bday to my first ever jjk love—you are still the most special in my heart i miss you dearly. ty bby mich for reading over this mwah ily lover 🫶🏽

“here,” you murmur, smiling at nanami before setting the mug of coffee down on the nightstand beside him, “just how you like it.”

it’s a routine by now.

every day, at nine am sharp, you rise from your side of the bed, adjust the curtains so the small peek of light from the cracks doesn’t disturb him as he sleeps, hum the same little tune as you shuffle out of the room, and you make his coffee. it’s the same every morning—black with two spoons of sugar—and sometimes, it’s the only thing that feels the same for nanami since he’s come home from that day.

nanami doesn’t talk about the scars on his body. he doesn’t even really tell you details of how he got them after the incident. the only thing you really know is that it was bad, that he was half dead and half gone. he’d even left a voicemail—you still have it saved on your phone. he remembers walking through the pain, faintly thinking about how he couldn’t see through his left eye, and he thinks for a moment that he’ll die. he realizes that his goodbye kiss that morning would be the last kiss he’d ever give you, so he makes sure to part with at least one final piece of him before he does.

but somehow, he wakes up. he opens his eye—one of them is permanently gone—and he sees you tearily gasp and shoko breathe in relief. and then he realizes he’s alive.

“you should drink it while it’s hot, kento,” you say gently, carefully, like the wrong words are hot water to sunburnt skin. and you suppose they are—just that these burns are far worse.

he only hums, sitting up with his back against the bed frame and his eye still trained on his phone in his hands. nanami’s never really been one to use his phone longer than he absolutely needs to, but these days it serves as a good reason not to look up and meet your eyes—a perfect excuse to hide that very visible side of him he just can’t ignore.

“thank you, love,” he mumbles.

“what do you want for breakfast? i can make—”

“i’ll eat later,” he says quietly. hallow. “you can go ahead and eat without me.”

nanami kento has never really dwelled on whether or not he’s attractive. not before missing half of his face, and certainly not after—that much hasn’t changed. what has changed, however, is that he now dwells on how unattractive he is. he stares a little extra longer in the mirror, walks a little extra faster when he strides past you, is a little extra cautious to make sure you’re never on his left side. you pretend you don’t feel him stiffen under your touch, and he pretends he doesn’t notice your eyes dim every time.

on most nights, he has the same recurring dream. one of a wedding—with pictures of you both gathered around by laughing friends and family, pictures on the wall in a house of your wide smile and his soft eyes staring at you. pictures that he’ll someday show your children, pictures your children will someday show their children, pictures that are worth reminiscing over.

but then, just as his hand reaches for the frame of one, the same agonizing burn from that day spreads through his cheek, down his neck and arm, and stops just at his hip until he’s left numb on one whole side of his torso. then he’ll glance back at the photos, and suddenly, the same sunken hollows of his bones and the same marred skin of his face greet him. he wakes up every time to you beside him, watches the rising and falling of your unconscious figure that’s noticeably closer to him as you find him in your sleep each night despite him maintaining distance.

he often thinks about the vacation photos you’ll never get to take, the family albums you’ll never get to make together, and sometimes, nanami wonders if he really is alive and well when he grieves for himself. he grieves for everything he ever was. everything he ever could’ve been.

“kento,” you sigh, making yourself comfortable on the mattress, right next to his figure as your arm presses against his. it’s quiet—but it’s not the same comfortable silence you’re used to with nanami. he’s not the same tall and steady mountain—now, you think, he’s just an ant pile on the ground, too easy to kick away as you pass by like it was never there. “come have breakfast with me,” you insist.

“i’m not too hungry right now,” he says instantly. he doesn’t let you hear any emotion to his words, doesn’t give you a lot of opportunities to pick up on how he’s feeling or what’s on his mind. it’s an added burden, he supposes—asides from caring for his wounds, asides from pretending like you’re fine and things are okay, you have to deal with all the feelings he can’t seem to handle himself.

nanami has only shown you a vulnerable side once since he’s come home. it’s after the first time he tries to take a shower, when the water pelting against his raw skin hurts too much for him to handle, when the heat of the water burns at the sore spots. he has to take a bath instead, so you help him wash his body gently, carefully rubbing over the skin with a washcloth like you would a newborn. he lays on your chest that night, clutches at your shirt and slots his body between your legs while you kiss his forehead and rub his back until he sleeps.

after that, he sleeps on his side of the bed every night, and he doesn’t dare let himself cross over to yours. you try to stay on your half of the mattress until he’s ready, but you can’t control the way your body seeks his out in your sleep. by morning, you’re curled around his good arm, and he’s painfully stiff on his back as he sleeps, not moved an inch from the night before.

“kento, you never skip breakfast. you’ve always lectured me when i try to,” you furrow your brows, “just eat a little.”

“i’ll eat later,” he repeats, a tad bit firmer this time. you sigh before pulling the covers over your legs and settling deeper into the mattress.

“fine,” you huff, “i’ll just wait for you.”

“don’t be stubborn,” he frowns.

“i’m not.”

you pinch your nose, rubbing over the bridge to collect yourself. you try to be patient with nanami. he’s always been patient with you, always gentle and kind even when he’s tired. he needs you now, so you try to do the same for him—try to be as perfect for him as he would be for you if the roles were reversed.

but it’s hard for you too.

it’s hard to see the shell of the man you used to know. you love nanami even with taut skin and rough scars. you love nanami even with an eye patch and a trembling hand. you love nanami even with distant words and scarce touches. you love nanami even if he doesn’t want to deserve your love, and you’ll keep loving nanami until he loves himself too.

but it doesn’t stop you from growing impatient some days.

“kento, the only one being stubborn is you,” you say frustratedly, the slightly irritated exhale you try to hide does not go unnoticed by him.

he sets his phone down and looks at you fully for the first time in a long while.

“i’m not,” he says dryly, “you can eat without me, i said i’ll eat later.”

“and you can join me for once instead of sitting here and feeling bad for yourself.” he doesn’t say anything after that.

you wonder for a moment if you’ve gone a little too far, if you’re making things about yourself when they should be about him. you wonder if you’re selfish, if you hope he’ll heal for the sake of healing, or for the sake of being your kento again. you suppose maybe both.

but then you wonder if maybe he’ll ever even be the same kento again. but you think you’ll love this kento just as much as the old one—you think you’ll love every version of kento in every life.

“i’m fine,” is all he says.

nanami does not want to have breakfast with you. it’s not because he doesn’t like being around you—on most nights, he counts his blessings that you’re still climbing into bed beside him instead of packing your bags and walking away. it would be the easy thing to do, and he wouldn't blame you. maybe then, you might have a semblance of a normal life, a normal husband who doesn’t—didn’t, he couldn’t go back now—fight cursed blobs for a living. a wedding with happy pictures. a house with photos on the wall. children with a father they can go to the park with. family vacation albums you can put together.

it’s all things he’s robbed you of, all things he let burn away along with the healthy flesh he used to have. he knows that if he tells you this, you’ll insist nothing’s changed. but paper does not smooth down no matter how flat you press it after being crumpled, nanami kento knows this better than anyone else.

he doesn’t want to have breakfast—he can’t stomach the idea of sitting across from you at the table, of feeling the aftershocks of failing you first thing in the morning. lunch and dinner are hard enough as is, and he doesn’t want to skip those and offer you lonely meals along with the pain and suffering he’s already brought onto you through his injuries. he also doesn’t want you to have to stare at his pink flesh and pathetic eye patch and trembling hand. he doesn’t want you to realize you’re stuck, bound to a cage to care for a flightless bird when you deserve the sun’s rays and the wind blowing between your own feathers.

perhaps if he’d died, you’d have mourned him for a year or two. maybe three. perhaps if he’d died, you’d keep one of the ties he’s always worn—the ones you can’t help but tease—and keep them in a box with a photo. maybe you’d meet someone new, someone who’d teach you how to laugh again, to smile and feel the wind on your face and the grass between your toes. maybe you’d get married and throw the bouquet with a sweet laugh and hopeful eyes. maybe you’d move on and be happy—and if he got lucky, maybe you’d take out the picture and tie from time to time, looking back and remembering him too.

but now you’re stuck somewhere in between a stranger and the man you love, he thinks. and he’s stuck somewhere in between the living and the dead.

“you’re not fine, kento,” you sigh, shuffling closer until you can hug his arm. he lets you, looks down at his lap and lets himself ignore his mind screaming no in favor of feeling you press your warmth against him. truth be told, he misses your touch—he just can’t find it in him to let himself have it. “and you don’t have to be. not right now, at least. but someday—”

“someday, i’ll have even more regrets than today,” he says skeptically.

the sun pours through the small cracks of the curtain, hitting the skin he desperately wants to hide. he almost feels the ghost of a lone tear in the eye he doesn’t have.

“no,” you say firmly, reaching to cup his cheek and turning him to face you. you trail your thumb over the scarred skin, rubbing over what would’ve been the apple of his cheek like you always do, like nothing’s changed. “kento, you’re alive. you have things to live for,” you say softly, leaning and pressing a kiss under his eye patch.

and when a single tear rolls down the eye he does have, you catch it with your thumb and rub it away.

“not a wedding,” he mumbles.

“why not?” you tilt your head in confusion, “you…you don’t want to get married?”

“of course, i do,” nanami says quickly. he pauses, ponders his words for a moment before he decides to turn his body and face you fully. “i’m sorry,” he offers with a strained voice.

“what are you apologizing for, kento?”

“you won’t have the pictures you wanted. we won’t have photos on the walls, or vacation albums, or—”

“of course, we will,” you argue, furrowing your brows like the words he’s uttered are completely absurd. he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair—thankfully, that’s grown back in full, otherwise he doesn’t think he’d go out in public at all. the stares from people are expected, but he thinks the looks he’d get from being half bald might just have been a bit too much to handle. “kento, we can still do all the things we wanted. nothing’s changed.”

“everything’s changed,” he clenches his jaw, “i’d ruin them. the pictures, the moments. everything. if we had kids, i couldn’t even take them to the park, or drop them off at school, or pick them up. they’d get bullied by the other kids, the parents would whisper about you. i’d ruin it all. i am ruining—”

he doesn’t get to finish that last statement.

you climb onto his lap, cupping his cheeks with both hands and silencing him with a kiss. he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back even if he doesn’t understand how you can be kissing him in the first place. it’s like muscle memory. it’s involuntary, the way his lips mold against yours. like the way his heart pumps blood and his lungs breathe in air, like a compass points north and the sun sets west, nanami kento’s lips press back against yours as firmly as he can without fail.

“not to me,” you whisper against him as you stop to breathe, “you wouldn’t ruin a thing to me. our pictures would be perfect, and our vacation albums too. our kids would be lucky. i’m lucky, kento,” your voice wavers. your eyes are glossy and your lips are trembling. you clutch his shirt this time, inching yourself closer until all that’s left is to climb into his skin. you’d do it if you could—scars and all. “i’m lucky you’re here, i’m lucky you’re alive. that you’ll scold me to go to bed on time at night. that you’ll make sure i don’t leave the house on an empty stomach in the morning. that you’re here to let me untie that awful tie of yours or hang your coat when you come home. that i don’t have to sleep alone. that i get to take bubble baths while you wash my back. that we can hold hands while we watch a movie. that you’re here kento—with me. i’m not…i don’t have to be alone. i’m alone when you’re gone,” you croak, tears slipping past your cheeks and splashing onto his shirt under you. “i don’t…i don’t wanna be alone. without you.”

it’s nanami who kisses you this time—and it’s the first time he kisses you himself, the first time he closes the gap and presses his lips to your own since he’s come home. he pulls your body flush against him, trying to make up for the time he’s kept you away. you kiss him back hard, silent streams of tears running down your face as you desperately taste him on your tongue. it’s a messy kiss, not like most of the kisses you’ve shared with nanami. this kiss tastes like narrowly missing death, like the reaper’s scythe misses by a hair, like heaven has closed its gates to grant you one more day on earth.

you pull away first, and he almost protests until you kiss under his eyepatch again. you trail your lips down his cheek and jaw, littering soft pecks along the raised skin of his neck while he breathes heavier. he lets out a shaky breath when you gently lift the hem of his shirt up slightly, waiting for his approval—and he almost wants the pull the covers over his body and shut his eyes and sleep again, but he decides to take a chance and let you peel his shirt from his body.

he doesn’t meet your eyes. he can’t. not when you’re staring down at his skin, tracing along the line that separates healthy flesh from scarred—along the line that separates his past from the present. and then you cross over to the side that’s not so perfect, that’s not smooth and promising under your touch, the side that’s rough and tight and a reminder of things he failed to do—and you kiss it.

“you’re beautiful. perfect,” you murmur as you kiss along his collarbone, all the way to his shoulder and back again, down his chest and along his abs, right to his waist where you press one last kiss to his hipbone sweetly. he’s panting by now, and nanami is more than a little embarrassed that he’s as hard as he is from something as little as affection.

but your lips are so near where he needs them so badly—and it’s been ages since he’s let himself indulge in anything sexual. even on his own.

“can i?” you hum, making him groan when you roll your palm over his crotch, feeling his erection poking through his pants. he lets his head fall back, lets his hands clutch the sheets under them as you untuck him from his pants when he nods. “missed you, kento,” you murmur, kissing the head of his cock.

the gesture makes him shudder, a weak grunt falling from his lips as he breathes heavier, letting out a soft groan when you smear the dribbling pre cum from his tip along his length. he’s sensitive, you note, more than he usually is—maybe it’s from not doing this for so long, maybe it’s from finally letting himself indulge in your touch after avoiding it, maybe it’s from the excitement that you still want him enough to do this. whatever it is, nanami moans softly when you stroke him slowly, chest rising and falling as you squeeze the base of his cock with every drag of your fist, cursing when you lean and press a small kiss to his inner thigh from your spot between his legs.

he spreads them a bit wider to make more room for you. he’s on what used to be your side of the bed—he lays there the first night so his burns aren’t next to you, and you don’t have it in you to protest. looking up to meet his gaze, you smile gently at him.

“do you want to stop?” you ask as you rub his thigh soothingly, “we don’t have to if you—”

“no,” he pants, “just…i…i’d like to keep going,” he says quietly. with that, you shoot him a bright grin, one that makes his heart flutter in his chest and his cock twitch between his legs. you pump him a few more times in your hand before leaning in to press a kiss to his tip once more, this time swirling your tongue around the fat head of his cock, gliding through his slit. he groans, low and deep from his chest, lets a hand fall to your head while the other fists the sheets.

“love you, kento. i love you,” you murmur, and then you’re taking him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around his length and swallowing around him. he bucks his hips on instinct, gasping when your hand comes to fondle with his balls, massaging them gently while you bob your head up and down his cock.

“f-fuck,” he rasps, “feels…feels good,” he breathes, closing his good eye and letting his head fall against the frame of the bed. you hum around him, the vibrations making him twitch slightly above you before you pick up the pace.

it’s messy, the way you loosen your jaw and fuck him with your mouth, the way his tip hits the back of your throat as a mix of your drool and his pre cum drips down your chin. he lets out a breathy whine when your tongue drags along the vein under his cock—he’s always been sensitive there. you still know him like the back of your hand, like he’s the same, like he’s not a stranger but the man you love, like nothing’s changed.

nanami has felt the warmth of your mouth pull him into blinding pleasure more times than he can count, but he never thought something so vulgar could make him feel so warm in his chest. you bob your head down, taking him deeper into your mouth, and he chokes on a cry of your name as he cradles the back of your head.

“‘m close, love—f-fuck, you sh-should—” he tries to warn you with a gentle tap to your head, but you’re determined to push him off the edge, so your hand squeezes around his balls a bit tighter, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and making his hips buck upwards as he grunts in surprise. he cums with a twitch of his cock, his orgasm crashing over him sooner than he expected. you hear him gasp, moaning brokenly as his eyes close and his lips tug between his teeth, hips rolling into your mouth against his better judgment. you swallow what you can of the hot, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth, hand pumping the base of his cock where you can’t fit. every crack in his voice and every low call of your name as he spills into you makes the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, an ache steadily building between your legs.

“so good,” he pants, spilling the last few ropes of his cum as he cants his hips up, “f-feels so good.” you pull away, swallowing whatever’s in your mouth as you stare up at him, making his eyes close as he lets out a low groan at the sight. you giggle when his cock twitches again between his thighs, still hard and heavy between his legs.

“not enough, baby?” you tease, kissing just below his belly button before you climb onto his lap, cupping his face as he smiles softly.

“i suppose not,” he chuckles lightly, “i don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you.”

“i love you, kento,” you murmur again, kissing along his jaw and nipping at his skin. his hands grip at your hips, squeezing firmly as he guides your clothed cunt to rub against his cock, making you sigh against his neck as your clit rubs over him through the fabric. “so much, you know. i don’t think i could ever stop.”

“yeah?” he asks quietly, “you think so?”

“yes,” you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crevice of his shoulder. he wraps an arm tightly around you, rubbing the small of your back as he feels you as close as space permits you to get—and even then, it’s not close enough. “i’m pouring my heart out, right now. you could say ‘i love you too,’ you know. now would be a perfect time.”

you feel his chuckle rumble from his chest against yours, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh since he’s opened his eyes that day.

“no need to get so impatient, love,” he teases. nanami feels the sun soak his skin through the cracks of the curtains, and he sees the way it catches in your eyes and brings out the small flecks in your irises as you pull from the crook of his neck to press your forehead to his. the day has only begun, but he thinks for the first time in a long time, there’s more waiting for him. “i,” he presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, “love you too.”

“a lot?” you bat your lashes with a cheeky grin. he shakes his head in amusement.

“i’ll have to think about that one,” he pretends to ponder for a moment.

“kento,” you whine, pouting deeper. nanami chuckles once, then twice, and then soft, sweet laughter pours from his mouth like honey trickles from the comb. it makes you giggle with him, contagiously pulling you to join his moment of glee. his chest is light but his arms are heavy with the weight of you in them—and he can’t ask for more.

maybe nothing’s changed after all.

“a lot,” he agrees with a nod. “i love you a lot. more than anything.”

“i want you more than anything,” you whisper, gently grinding your hips down on him, biting your lip as he drags along your throbbing clit. you whimper softly when his hand travels under your shirt, kneading your breasts in his palms as you roll your hips against him.

“i think i can give you that,” he murmurs.

it happens quicker than you can imagine. your shirt is pulled over your arms and your bra is unclasped. nanami flips you both over so your back hits the mattress and he’s hovering over your chest, lips wrapping around a pebbled nipple as he sucks and rolls his tongue over it. your hand clutches at his blonde locks, head thrown against the pillow as you whine, back arching a little when his hand reaches for your other tit and his fingers rub and pinch at your nipple so as not to leave it neglected.

“k-kento, please,” you breathe, “more.”

he hums, switching his mouth and his hand to give the same attention to the other side, slotting a knee between your legs and spreading them wide. you’re dripping, pussy aching as it craves the stretch of his cock. it’s almost nauseating, how much you need him—thankfully, he seems to have an idea.

you breathe his name the same way you always do when he slips himself into you, breathless and in love, brimming with lust and awe, glossed with ache and need. he sets his jaw and presses his forehead to yours, feeling your tight walls squeeze him in as he lets you adjust. and when you buck your hips with a greedy whine, just like you always do, he all but pulls out completely before slamming into you, just like he always does.

“god, kento,” you moan, “so full. feels good—always make me f-feel good. only you.” he groans at your words, hips rutting into you desperately as he chases the friction of your wet cunt, lost on the way your walls flutter around him.

you were made for him, he thinks, the way your pussy hugs around him, the way he fits so perfectly, the way your bodies slot against each other just right when you pull him close. nanami kento is sure you were sculpted by steady hands, deliberate and slow—and he can only hope he’s enough to be yours, enough to reach for your hand and feel the way your fingers entwine and your heart seeps through your palm into his.

he’ll cradle it carefully, until he’s enough for you, until you’ll willingly take his heart when he hands it to you too.

but something tells him from the way your cling to him, arms around his neck, chests pressed so closely that your nipples graze, that you want his heart in your palm too.

“fuck,” he grunts, “missed fucking you like this,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as you mewl, raising your hips and meeting his sloppy thrusts halfway. “missed the way you take me so well, love. so tight,” he breathes.

he lets a hand travel between your bodies, rubbing at your clit in slow circles that make you squeal, legs wrapping around his waist as your thighs tremble. his fat tip kisses your sweet spot, the one he knows by heart as he angles his hips and slams into you with precision, the slow, sloppy roll of his hips building up your orgasm in a steady ache. your hands find his hair, tugging at the roots as you let wanton moans spill from your mouth. and he’s everywhere, his skin against yours, his mouth pressing hot, searing kisses along your jaw, his vein dragging along your walls as his cock curves into you just right.

you can feel the coil in your belly tighten until it’s just ready to snap, can feel yourself get closer to your high, can feel the way nanami is close too as he twitches in your dripping heat. he’s groaning into your neck, head falling into the juncture of your shoulder as he lets out deep grunts, balls heavy and aching to release.

“kento, kento,” you chant his name. it leaves a tender feeling swimming in his chest, fond and proud and a little grateful all at once. the way you say his name like that makes him think you still need him, that he’s still enough, that he’s still everything you want. and when you tug at his roots, letting out a soft sob as his thumb rubs harshly over your sensitive clit, he smiles a little against your skin. “‘m so close kento, n-need it. need it so bad, please.”

“let go,” he kisses your neck, “cum for me, love.”

and you do. hard.

it’s been as long for you as it has for him—sometimes you let yourself forget that. but he slams himself into your walls, your slick smeared messily along your thighs, and you cum on his cock with a silent sob. your back arches as you cling to nanami, tugging at his hair while he fucks you through your high, groaning deeply at the way your walls spasm around his cock.

your high sends him hurdling into his own release, his second orgasm rippling through his spine as pleasure burns through every nerve. nanami’s head falls to your shoulder, and he faintly registers your hand cradling the back of his head as he desperately ruts into you, rhythm sloppy. he paints your walls white, thick ropes of cum filling you up as he fucks his load deep into your sloppy cunt.

“god—you’re all i need,” he moans, “everything i need—c-can’t lose you, never you. i love you. i love you,” he chokes, panting as he trembles in your arms with the last new waves of his high. you’re repeating the words back—and through soft sniffles, he faintly registers—while your fingers are gently threading through his hair.

and when he slips out of you, slumping onto the bed beside you as he collects you in his arms, he realizes that this is the first time he’s laid on his side of the bed since he’s come home to you.

“i love you, kento,” you say for what feels like the millionth time that night. and you think you’ll keep repeating it for as long as he needs it. “thank you for coming home to me.”

“thank you for bringing me home,” he smiles, kissing your forehead.

you kiss over his scarred skin, he brings the sheets over your bodies, and nanami kento is home. nothing’s changed.

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#fics.#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami angst #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk smut

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betterfettered · 3 months

Note

Can I please have yandere Natasha who wants to pamper her fem daring? However, her fem darling refuses her affection. (As the one shot story if that's okay).

Hey bby! I tried to include a little tid bit about your OCs too :) (AFAB!reader x AFAB!yandere, cis wlw)(noncon)(drugging)(kidnapping)(gaslighting)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Even after you know that Natasha is long gone, it takes you an hour or two before you try to escape. It feels like she has eyes everywhere, like she can detect your every breath , so you move painstakingly slowly to your feet. As soon as you are standing up completely, your head swims and your legs threaten to buckle out from beneath you; you have been sick for a long time, though, so that does not stop you from shuffling over to the locked window and gazing out at the jarring, sunlit thoroughfare beneath you. You know nothing about the tiny people you can see walking around on the ground several stories below you, an odd twist of fate considering that you have lived your entire life beneath their feet as a citizen of the Underworld, so you can only wonder if they would help you if they knew your predicament. You’d never beat against the glass hard enough for anyone to notice, but if they did, would they wave to you and promise to save you? Would they cry themselves seeing your tears?

You don’t even make it to the door. Pain shoots out from most of your leg joints after only a few steps until you collapse to the ground, rolling over onto your side to curl into fetal position and sob. It isn’t that you don’t have the will, as you have never wanted more in your life than to leave this room – your body just won’t move, even to wipe away your tears, even though your heart is pounding at the thought of being found here.

After a few hours, when you’re already in significant pain from staying in the same position for so long, the door swings open and hits the top of your head. You groan, curling into yourself a little, and hear Natasha gasp in horror.

“Oh, heavens. My love, are you okay?” she says, the door locking behind her with a snap. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

None too gently, Natasha slides her arms underneath you and stands, raising you from the ground, then carries you back to the bed. She is exceedingly careful in how she lays you down, making sure that all of your limbs are rested in an ergonomic fashion, even though you feel the way her fingers wander.

“Please, follow my instructions so that we can make sure that you’re not injured.”

One of her hands lies on your face and strokes your cheek, her expression trying to conceal her fear.

“Tell me where you are right now.”

“No.”

“No, you don’t know where you are?”

“No, I won’t do what you ask,” you say, shaking your head and feeling tears burning your eyes. “I want to go home.”

She nods, the smile on her face a little stiff, then brushes your leaking eyes with her thumb.

“I understand,” she says, turning from you to go and fetch the groceries. “I know just the thing to make you feel better. Then I’ll send you back home as you wish.”

You’re so shocked for a second that you feel like your body keeps crying while you are completely still. Did she say you could go home? You can’t believe it – you’ve been trapped in this hotel room for so long that you’ve lost count of the days. Your heart soars at the possibility of talking to your sister again, even thought you hadn’t sought her out before and don’t even know if she’s still alive: your memory of her has been your only solace in this unending nightmare of being “helped” by Natasha, your imaginary manifestation of her being the your sole source of happiness.

Natasha approaches again with syringe in hand, her smile more relaxed now.

“One last bit of medicine to help with your pain before you go,” she says, and then places her hand on your shoulder, running it gently along the skin down to your inner elbow. Once there, she feels around for a second to find your vein.

“One two three, be brave!” she says, and then spears the needle into your arm, thumb pressing its liquid into your vein. “Now, let me get your bag ready and write down some discharge instructions.”

She grabs your chin and tugs you towards her, pressing her lips onto yours snaking her tongue into your mouth and grabbing your hair to pull you closer. You don’t want to waste energy on struggling, so you allow her to invade you like that, clenching your hand to have another sensation to focus on.

“I would be so devastated if something happened to you once you leave, after all,” Natasha coos after pulling away. She flashes you another grin for a second, and then heads to the wardrobe within your room. Once there, she pulls out the bag you’d been carrying when she lured you in, drops it onto the floor, and begins folding up your street clothes to place inside of it.

For a moment, you think the strange sensation bubbling within you is anxiety, and then you gag so hard aloud that it sounds like a cough. Your entire body feels bad, somehow, but you can’t tell what it is because you feel distant from it, panicking and gagging over and over.

“Natasha,” you cry out, unable to lift yourself up from how fast the room is spinning you into dizziness. “Natasha!”

She continues folding your clothing.

“There’s something wrong! Help, please.”

That makes her turn around, her expression curious.

“Something wrong? Like what?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine then, I’m sure you can take care of it at home with over the counter meds,” she says, turning back to the closet and grabbing your jacket to fold.

“No, I can’t,” you gasp between your retching, starting to sob. “Something’s really wrong. Help me. Please, Nat, I’m begging. I’m…begging, I don’t want to die.”

At this, she turns from her folding work.

“Begging for what?” she asks, smarmy innocence in her tone. All the while she walks towards you.

“For help.”

“Oh, did you need me?”

“Please!”

“Say it.”

“I need you. I need you to help me. I’m really sick.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along, darling,” she says, wrapping her arms around you. You can feel the warmth of her breath fanning along the apples of your cheeks. “You need to be here. Without me, you’d be suffering so much, right?”

You nod.

She relinquishes you, pulls your arms away from where you’d been instinctively protecting your breasts from her, and injects your inner elbow again with a different syringe from her pocket.

After only a few seconds, you feel so much better, your limbs feeling like jello and your mind a little fuzzy, but free of the continuous gagging.

She presses her lips to yours, exhaling in pleasure at their softness, at the way your plush body yields when she gropes and then presses into you. You lie still and let her do what she wants until you feel her hand groping your pussy, squeezing it and running her fingers along it in tandem. When you start to struggle against the stimulation, she bites your lip hard enough that the taste of iron seeps onto your taste buds.

“Let’s start your check up again,” she pants, pulling away. “It’s always best to test someone’s well being with all of your senses. So right now, let me check you with my mouth.”

Your heart sinks, but you don’t want her to inject you with whatever she had before. Letting your eyes press shut, hot tears spilling down to your temples, tears threaten your eyes when she kisses you again. You can’t help but cringe feeling her hands on your tits, massaging them aggressively; at the same time, the way your cheeks heat up feels completely unfamiliar. The sound of a breathy moan escaping from your mouth shocks you – you realize that Natasha pushing your shirt aside and using her tongue to stroke away the pain her fingers pinching your nipples left behind is making your clit a little stiff.

“Stop,” you whine, trying to turn your chest away from her mouth, the arousal building up in the pit of your stomach getting harder to ignore.

“Of course,” Natasha says, kissing either of your tits. “I know what you’re looking for.”

Her hand sliding up from your cunt to the top of your underwear is so quick you don’t notice it happening; how exposed you are only becomes clear when she buries her face in your pussy, sucking and tonguing your clit while her fingers, roughly jammed into you, start to rub up hard against your G-spot.

You open your mouth to ask her to stop, but only hear yourself panting, your hips bucking and squirming against her face. You dig your nails into the crook of your elbow as though that will take out whatever she drugged you with to make you feel like this.

“I don’t want this,” you moan, unable to stop pressing your pussy against her mouth. “What did you do to me? I – agh!”

Your entire body shudders endlessly, strange noises flooding out of your mouth at her unrelenting tongue sliding back and forth against you while you cum over and over. You feel embarrassed at how you’re writhing and yelping like an animal, but she won’t stop until you are trembling and trying to scoot your overstimulated core away from her. At that, she straddles you on the bed, both hands squeezing you all over.

“It makes me so happy when you feel good,” she says. “I just want to ride your cute face. But you must be worn out, so maybe tomorrow.”

Shivering from the disgusting mess between your legs and allowing yourself to cry quietly, you wonder if you should have just coped with the poison instead.

#betty fetty #yandere x reader #female yandere #tw: noncon #tw non con #cw noncon #tw noncon #yandere #yandere smut #wlw smut #natasha x reader #natasha hon #honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr natasha #natasha hsr

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lambtotheslaughterr · 16 days

Text

Rise : Chapter Thirteen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 2.8k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER TWELVE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER FOURTEEN

personal note* @bunnycvnts bby honey love i am SO sorry! i incorrectly placed you under the taglist for only I Burn updates & not Rafe Cameron updates as a whole. i apologize wholeheartedly, my love. from now on, you will be properly tagged in all future RC fics.

118 days since the world ended

Your world was spinning. Maddeningly so.

Days bled into one another, weeks passed you by without a thought. You had no control over your mind, constantly free-falling somewhere between conscious autonomy & other-worldly helplessness.

Sometimes you spoke but you never knew what you were saying, if you were saying anything at all, really. You were completely numb, mindless, isolated from who you once were. And you had Rafe concerned.

In the weeks that he kept you holed up in your new room, he would come in with lines of coke, forcing you to snort them or if you were too immobile to do so yourself he would rub the powder on your gumlines. He didn’t enjoy seeing you like this, like a zombie, but he thought it the only way to protect you from the trauma of what you had done. Of course, he felt no guilt in his part of it. He felt he was a necessary evil in the new world, & that you were just slow to adapt. But you would adapt. He would make sure of that.

After the events at the cabin, Rafe ransacked the cabin, taking what would be needed for the next move. He instructed Matt & Robbie to take Sayyed’s wrangler & bring it along as another reliable vehicle. Then he led everyone north to the closest city of Asheboro. There, on the north end of the city in the industrial district, he found an abandoned mill that had been shut down long before the world ended, but did serve as a home for the houseless. Fortunately, there were plenty of necessities to make a living.

In a long & wide spacious space, there were a plethora of overturned cots & worn through mattresses, metal tables that would work for food, pallets & dusty blankets, & a few empty oil barrels that were once used to build fires. It being summer, fires wouldn’t be needed, but they would come in handy in the winter months. Rafe was quick to set roles for everyone, that is except for you & Bear. He moved you into a small private corner room on the second floor of the building, & Bear to a nearly identical one on the opposite end. He didn’t want you two interacting until you both got with the ways of his world.

And so as everyone got to their tasks daily & life in the mill began to function decently, Rafe finally turned his attention to you. Even without the coke, you were quiet, displaced from yourself. He needed you to be alert, aware & paying attention to him. And that was when he started bringing you coke. It had worked the first time you fucked in the woods. And the second time when he had to coerce you to have sex with him. It would surely work a third time.

But much to his disappointment, you hardly reacted to the coke in the first couple days. If anything, it had the opposite effects of his intended wants. You weren’t awake, alert. You became drowsier, your speech slurred. Rafe had never really seen anyone respond to coke like you had in those first couple days. So, he quit. But then your behaviour changed again.

You became violent, erratic, dangerous—not to others but to yourself. You were so far gone in your mind that you would find ways to hurt yourself. First it was you clawing at your skin, leaving deep, long bloody marks down the sides of your thighs. So he cut your nails & kept them short. Then you stopped eating. Your weight dropped drastically. He took it upon himself to force feed you & make sure you got your share of the food day in & night out. The final straw is when you attacked him. Him! Of all people. He knew it wasn’t really your doing, your intention to really want to harm him, but he couldn’t have you out for his blood, nor could he put you down. That’s when he finally brought on another pair of hands to help him. The only pair he trusted.

In the first two weeks of living on the edge of Asheboro, Anna had built quite the stockpile of medical supplies & equipment. Much to Rafe’s chagrin, Anna told him that he was the sole problem to your bipolar & violent tendencies. You were suffering from coke withdrawal at the height of a traumatic experience. And supplying you with more coke in an attempt to wake you up only made it worse. Then when he took it away yet again, your behavioral symptoms adapted to the change in a violent way.

So, it was her duty to get you back to a clean & safe mind. But you would fight her. Not even consciously. Anna had told Rafe that it was as if your own mind wouldn’t allow you to come back, to live with what you had done. But Rafe wouldn’t have it. He would have you back whether you wanted to be there or not.

While Anna tended to you the next couple weeks, Rafe focused on the way of life at the mill. Shortly after Anna took over his role for caring of you, there had been a meaningful event. People.

There was five of them who appeared, claiming to have thought the building abandoned & that didn’t want any trouble. But Rafe didn’t see trouble, he saw power. More people to keep under his thumb. After all, he knew how dangerous he could be, how lethal—he could only imagine who else out in the world was like him. And with survival being key in this world, the more bodies he had the better, virus be damned.

Anna cleared four of them to assimilate to the group. The one she didn’t clear showed symptoms of the virus & was effectively removed. Permanently. The remaining four did not put up a fight to protect the one, a sign they would be easy to maintain. After the removal of fifth body, the four—Vic, Maddy, Barry, & Enzo—were quarantined on the third floor of the building for a week before they were allowed to begin pulling their weight. And much to Rafe’s delight, they followed directions well & meshed well with the others. Rafe could see the world falling together perfectly before him.

On the fourth week at the mill, Anna came to Rafe with news. Good news. You were awake. Alert like he wanted. He immediately wanted to see it for himself, to hear your voice, to have him alone time with you, but Anna was quick to squash it.

“Her mind is still fragile, Rafe.” She told him firmly, stopping him from heading to the second floor to see you, “You may trigger her. And then all that progress will be lost & I can’t guarantee getting her back again after that.”

Rafe was frustrated. Since when had you been fragile? You were always a force to be reckoned with. You were loud, bold, a dominating personality, a lot like him. It was what always drew him to you in that first year of college. And it was why he loathed your relationship with Sayyed even more. He always thought the two of you would be a short fling, but soon that fling turned into a relationship, into meeting each other’s parents on breaks from schools to traveling with each other during the summer, always returning back to school closer than ever. He had been angry, but he knew his time would come. But now that it was here & he was being told to stay away from you, Rafe thought he himself would lose his mind next.

But, as much as he hated to, he listened to Anna, & kept his distance. For the next week, he would stand outside your room, listening as Anna spoke to you as she brought you food & updated you how life at the mill functioned. Rafe noted how she made it a point to rarely say his name, if ever. It bothered him to no end, but he wouldn’t risk losing you again.

Rafe thought ahead then. He knew that when you were ready, truly ready, to be let out & to assimilate with the rest of them, that you would need a face you could rely on. Without speaking to Anna about it, because he didn’t need her permission, Rafe finally made his first visit to Bear. Unlike you, Bear was very aware.

Rafe entered the room & Bear stood on business, prepared for the worst if he knew it was Rafe coming in.

“Calm down, buddy.” Rafe scoffed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. But Bear didn’t calm down. He stood stiff & ready opposite of him.

“Can’t imagine it’s a ton of fun in here. You’d get more food if you pulled your weight.” Rafe told him.

“I wouldn’t help you if my life depended on it.” Bear seethed, “You should’ve just killed me.”

Rafe agreed. He should’ve. But Bear was his only leverage against you. As much as he hated it, Rafe needed Bear to keep you in line, otherwise you’d be as against him as you had the first time the group split.

“As much as I’d enjoy that,” Rafe started, glaring at Bear, “you’re much more useful alive.”

“Like I said—”

“Like I’m saying.” Rafe cut him off, “If you & _____ want to live, you’ll work with me, not against me.”

Bear softened at that, “Where is she?”

“She’s fine.” Bear didn’t need to know the whole truth, Rafe decided, “But she does need a friend. And it seems you’re the only one she has here until she makes more.”

Bear shook his head, “You know that’ll never happen after what you did.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Rafe warned, ��That’ll make you both disposable. I know you don’t care about dying, but you care about her dying. You go down, she goes down with you.”

Bear quieted at that, angry but quiet.

“So, you ready to come out & play nice?”

Bear glowered, weighing his options, but even he knew he had little to no change against Rafe & the others. If Bear was going to be there for you, he needed to play along. For now.

The first time Rafe saw you was in the courtyard garden. It wasn’t a garden to begin with, but Maddy with her green thumb, managed to turn it into one. He saw you through the windows, on your knees before the metal watering bed, your hands covered in soil as you helped the new girl plant more seeds. It took everything in him to not go out there & gather you in his arms, to run his hands through your hair, to press his chest to yours. His mouth watered at having you to himself again.

Anna joined him at the window, staring out at you, “She’s almost ready. I want her to acclimate to roles here before she sees you again.”

“How long?” He fumed, his nostrils flared as images of you flooded his mind. You were so close, yet so far.

“A day or two.” Anna shrugged, “I’m not a psychologist. I do nurse shit. But better safe than sorry.”

Rafe’s spine stiffened & relaxed at the same time. It was bittersweet. A day or two more wasn’t really all that long, but in this world, it felt like ages. He would have to make do.

And he did, but he would often keep you in sight. In the mess hall—the spacious room—he would watch you sit with the others on pallets & ate silently alongside them while they all talked amongst themselves. Bear was there, too. But he wasn’t as sociable with the others, though he did keep near you. Rafe would have to keep an eye on that. As much as he thought having Bear would help you adapt, he also worried about it also influencing you.

Rafe did well to keep himself distracted until the last two days passed before he saw you face-to-face again. On the day before he would see you, he approached Micah in the gravel lot outside the mill. Micah was in charge of scavenging. He, Matt, & Robbie, were gone long & often as they cleared surrounding smaller towns of goods & necessities.

“Micah.” Rafe hollered when he went outside, seeing Micah standing in the bed of his truck as he passed off crates to Matt & Robbie.

Micah nodded at him, telling the other two to take over as he hopped over the side of the truck before walking towards Rafe, “What’s up?”

“_____ is out.” Micah’s demeanor changed in an instance at the sound of your name. It was no secret that Micah loathed you, wished you dead. Honestly, Rafe thought it pathetic. He knew it wasn’t your fault that Millie died, but he needed Micah angry, needed him ready to point & shoot at whoever Rafe told him to. If blaming you for his girlfriend’s death is what kept that anger alive, that’s all that mattered. But he also needed to remind Micah of one thing.

“You go nowhere near her.” Rafe stared hard at his longest & oldest friend from college.

Micah’s nose crinkled with distaste, his own eyes darkening.

“I mean it.” Rafe stepped closer to him, his voice firm but filled with warning, “I see you even look at her wrong, & you won’t have a place here anymore.”

Micah’s nostrils flared, “You’re gonna pick her over me?”

“I’d like to keep you both.” Rafe smirked but it wasn’t friendly, “So, don’t make me choose. Understand?”

Micah shook his head in disbelief, “And if she comes at me?”

“She won’t. You know she won’t. And if she does, I’ll take care of it.” Rafe shrugged.

“Your dick isn’t some magical stick, ya know.”

“Watch it.” Rafe lowered his voice, “Just stay away from her. Do your job. Got it?”

Inhaling sharply, Micah shook his head once, “You’re the boss.”

Rafe gave a closed-lip smile at that, gripping Micah’s shoulder, “That’s right.”

It was time.

Rafe woke early & dressed quickly. He looked around his functionable room, reminding himself to get one of the guys to tidy it up. After all, it would very soon become your room. But he would get to that later. What he needed to get to now was you.

As if she knew Rafe would be gunning for you, Anna was waiting outside your room, having just brought you your breakfast for the day. Rafe didn’t slow down though as he saw Anna give him a concerned look.

“Rafe.”

“What?” He snapped.

“Are you sure?” She questioned.

“Am I sure about what?” Anna’s eyes flashed to the door to your room. Rafe rolled his eyes, “You said two days, it’s been two fucking days.”

“I just don’t want you to regret it.”

Anna was funny to him. She was always the tough girl, took no shit & gave it back ten times more. But it was amusing how the end of the world quickly turned her into a pawn. Rafe knew her tough exterior was just that, an exterior. She was as easy to control as the others.

“It’s not your job to worry.” Rafe told her sardonically.

Anna crossed her arms at that, “Then why is it always me cleaning up your messes?”

Rafe licked his teeth, smiling down at her, “You got a problem, Anna?”

She sniffled, straightening her spine, the tough exterior coming out, “No. Just don’t want you to lose focus because of her.”

“Like I said.” Rafe repeated, “Don’t worry about it.”

It was clear she wanted to say more but didn’t, just stiffly nodded.

Rafe was eager to enter your room, but just as he placed his hand on the knob, he paused, turning once more to Anna, “Get your man to clean up my room. Then relax. You can take the day off.”

“He’s not my man.” Anna gritted out. Though she was a sexually open woman, she refused to admit being tied down to a man. But her & Matt had been screwing ever since the two men joined their group nearly three months.

“Just get him. And quit being stubborn.” Rafe’s smile dropped, shifting his face to one of impatience.

“Whatever.” With that, Anna stomped away.

Rafe was finally alone. Mostly. After all, you were just a door slab & a few feet away from him. Rafe’s heartbeat erratically within his chest. He had been waiting much too long for this.

Twisting the knob, the door moaned quietly as it cracked open. And Rafe stepped inside.

okay, so hey! glad to be back after a great vacay & a sickly recovery lmao. that being said, it is a shorter chapter to kind of summarize the way of life 3-4 weeks later. i also wanted to change it up & kind of tell the story from rafe's POV to give reader a break. but next chapter will be from reader's POV.

as always, please share your thoughts via comments, reblogs w reviews, talking to me in the ask box. i am greatly deprived since i have been gone. teehee.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

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#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #non con fic #dark!outer banks #rise chapter thirteen

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sanjisboyfie · 7 months

Text

one piece smau: vacation edition

— strawhats being a cute friend group once again

— male reader, everyone having the tiniest crush on him too but thats only if u swuint (im a very selfindulgent writer sorry)

— also i imagine robin, franky and brook to be older than the rest of hte crew, but not like crazy older. its probably not really relevant, but like mid twenties insead of their thirties and forties LMFAOA the rest of the crew is young twenties

liked by ._.[name], princesanji, and 10k others

dni_nami: pre-7hr flight question, how long until we all start killing each other? everyone place your bets

tagged: ._.[name], freeluffy, and princesanji

uso_pp: we barely made it through the airport without losing luffy, so i'm placing my bet on one hour.

[liked by ._.[name], roro.zoro, and 20 others]

-> dr.law: i'm surprised you even made it through airport security....

-> freeluffy: TOORRAOO YOU SHOULD'VE COME IT WOULDVE BEEN SO FUNNNN!!!

-> dr.law: hard pass. good luck everyone else.

._.[name]: i think it's gonna be fine !!! what's the worst that can happen tbh

-> dni_nami: i could list 100 reasons why this is gonna go bad and all of them involve luffy.

-> robinkills: [name]'s right, i think this trip is going to be very fun !

liked by roro.zoro, robinkills, and 11k others

freeluffy: [name] rented bikes for us, but he won't let me drive :/

tagged: ._.[name]

SUPERCOLA: good job [name] for saving his life, much appreciated

dni_nami: i'm begging you two to not crash and make the expenses of our trip go up even more

-> princesanji: always thinking logically, nami, this is why i love you so much <333333333333333

roro.zoro: pick up some sake otw back

-> ._.[name]: yesyesyes we all know thats the only reason why you came anyway, i'll pick some up

-> roro.zoro: what. no way. i definitely wanted to be sat on a hours long flight next to luffy and be living in a small apartment with all of my friends who dont know how to speak quietly and wont let me sleep even when its already early morning. what. i am so excited to be here.

-> uso_pp: alright we get it please stop

liked by princesanji, SUPERCOLA, and 8k others

robinkills: thank you [name] for winning me the prizes :)

tagged: ._.[name]

._.[name]: anything for you robin <3 aka the person thats keeping all of us sane right now <3

princesanji: HOW DARE THIS BAFFOON STEAL YOU AWAY ROBIN PLEASE LET ME TAKE CARE OF HIM, I WILL MAKE SURE HE NEVER BOTHERS YOU AGAIN

-> uso_pp: when is sanji going to accept the fact that [name] is actually apart of this friend group and that he is also more favored by the women we interact with

-> ._.[name]: dw usopp he only puts on a hard front, he ltr begged me to room with him so he could cuddle w me at night. he's just being shy rn

[liked by dni_nami, roro.zoro, and 40 others]

freeluffy: [NAME] [NAME] DID YOU GET ME THEONE I WANTED TOO??!?!?! REMEMBER I SHOWED YOU

-> ._.[name]: yes luffy :) we are otw back and i have the one you asked for as well.

-> SUPERCOLA: [name] the absolute goat in dealing with luffy and his absurd requests so the rest of us dont have to

liked by freeluffy, roro.zoro, ._.[name], and 9k others

uso_pp: morning debrief where we all share embarrassing stories, like how [name] almost stripped completely naked drunk last night because an ice spice song was playing on the karaoke.

._.[name]: alright genuinely why the fuck did that have to be the caption you put on the internet for the whole world to see

-> roro.zoro: no dont be embarassed [name] it was funny watching you try and copy her signature pose

[liked by dni_nami, robinkills, and 90 others]

-> dni_nami: don't think about even crossing me in the future, i have a video of the whole thing bby

-> ._.[name]: GOD FORBID A GUY HAS FUN

skullnsoul: i found [name]'s dancing and singing quite endearing

-> ._.[name]: thank you brook :') you're so sweet

-> skullnsoul: yes, although i feel like you're much too old to be wearing underwear with hearts as the print, [name]. i suggest buying new pairs of boxers :)

-> ._.[name]: what the actual fuck

liked by princesanji, uso_pp, and 11k others

dni_nami: i really wish you could hear sanji cursing [name] outin this photo

tagged: princesanji and ._.[name]

._.[name]: me when im literally following the instructions that hes telling me and i somehow still get yelled at

-> princesanji: do you even understand hwo cooking meat works? everyone would have gotten salmonella and food poisoning if i didn't teach you how

->._.[name]: yelling is never the answer sanji

-> freeluffy: I THINK [NAME]'S COOKING TASTED REALLY GOOD

uso_pp: they acc cookeedddd tho like our food was so tastyyy

[liked by princesanji, ._.[name], and 9 others]

robinklills: sanji almost shoved [name]'s head into the griller, it was funny

-> ._.[name]: HE WHAT ??!?!?! I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE THAT HE TRIED DOING THA TWHAT THE FUCK

liked by princesanji, ._.[name], and 12k others

roro.zoro: [name] told me to post this photo he took.

tagged: princesanji and ._.[name]

dni_nami: awww look all the boys finally getting along

[liked by robinkills, uso_pp, vivi, and 50 others]

-> princesanji: i would have much rather been in your presence my queen, i love you so much

-> ._.[name]: sanjii give up the bit for fucks sake

uso_pp: where was me and luffy's inv ??? ig its like that now ....

-> roro.zoro: you guys were playing mermaids in the pool at the apartment and explicitly told us to not interfere with your serious business

-> princesanji: and then you started getting mad at us for invitig you again right before we left

._.[name]: damn zoro u lookin mad fine in this photo shiiiitttt #smash

-> roro.zoro: i need you to make sure your door is locked later tn or else i cant promise you will wake up the next day

liked by dni_nami, vivi, roro.zoro, and 12k others

._.[name]: thank u nami for the photos

tagged: dni_nami

._.[name]: btw nami made me post this w that caption so it could "scare away the hoes"

-> dni_nami: im doing them a favor, they just dont know it yet cuz ur fucking insane

-> uso_pp: LMFAOAO

purrrona: can i bite it?

-> ._.[name]: BITE WHAT?????

-> purrrona: so is that a yes or a no?

-> uso_pp: professional dick rider alert !!!!

roro.zoro: why is your thirst trap the first thing i have to see when i open this app

-> ._.[name]: why are you acting like you weren't the first person to like this post???

[liked by dni_nami, robinkills, and 57 others]

portgasace: WHY THE FUCK WAS I NOT INVITED ON THIS TRIP?????

dr.law: id also like to thank nami for the photos

#≡;- ꒰ ° smau series ꒱#one piece smau #one piece imagines #modern one piece #modern au one piece #smau imagines #one piece x reader #one piece x male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader imagines

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starwrighter · 9 months

Text

I am not a baby!!(Yes you are)

(Prompt) (Masterpost) (Previous) (next) (Ao3 link)

( Part three bby! Come get ya’ll juice) @unknownthreat @avelnfear @adeniumdream @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @ashoutinthedarkness

“Zero human life signs detected" A terrifying string of words to hear after crawling out a lifepod. It didn’t sound plausible, there were dozens of life pods on that ship! Dozens of pods that should have launched with him in the crash, that means dozens of people who should be more alive than him were wandering around this planet. They had too be!

Alterra tech wasn’t as advanced as the corporation wanted him to believe. A thorough scan of the entire planet couldn’t be performed in a matter of seconds. The tablet was impressive sure, but it couldn’t replace the complex tech and the brilliant minds from the brightest of space programs. Living people were unpredictable, especially in times of disaster like this. It would’ve been easy for them to accidentally walk out of range or be skipped over by whatever scan was sent out. All he knew about this planet was that there was water as far as the eye could see. There had to be people somewhere on the planet. The area he landed in was safe from what he could tell, he could only hope the same for the others.

Shallow water surrounded him a tropical warmth to it. The ground was a mix between soft sand he could dig his feet and stone. Giant coral tubes were scattered throughout the area and Danny found himself giggling as he darted through them as fast as he could manage.

“Vital signs abnormal. Self scan recommended,” Danny frowned glaring down at the PDA, a flashing light dutifully reminding him to head up for air. Scrunching his nose Danny dismissed the notifications. Notifications and reminders that would be lifesaving for a normal human would be inaccurate and possibly harmful if you applied it to him. His body needed less oxygen so his heart was slower. It made perfect sense to him but it was very difficult to explain to a trained medical professional that he was just built different without exposing the existence of halfa. Explaining his existence to the Ai was a task he wasn’t looking forward to. Maybe he should play along and pretend to be a dumb baby so he didn’t have to. Explaining how he’s still alive when his heart wasn’t pumping anywhere close to the speed needed for his circulatory system to function.

Maybe if he scanned himself like his PDA suggested he’d get accurate medical information for once in his half-life. His semi normal life was over the moment he melted into goo and his grave was dug the moment the PDA noticed the irregularities, no harm in digging himself a deeper grave right? Better to be comfy in your grave than fight to be tossed in a ditch.

Swimming up to the surface Danny allowed himself to think deeply about his situation for the first time since landing on this rock. Alterra drew it’s information from building off confirmed databases, creating new ones and synthesizing theories when they lacked information. For all the GIW’s and his parent’s hard work their research on ectoplasm and ecto entities didn’t exist in any official database outside of fairytales and myths. To his PDA ectoplasm was something they’ve never seen before; something that they’d study without the bias of his parents or the GIW skewing the results.

Jazz and his friends would still accept him no matter what conclusion the PDA drew on his existence. If worse came to worst he could always pull a couple strings with Technus or ask tucker to wipe it’s memory for him when he got home.

With a small gasp for air Danny dove back down into the shallow waters. Brightly colored fish roamed, nibbling at plants and flitting away in terror when he drew near. Only one of the fish didn’t seem to mind his presence. A slim yellow fish with purple fins, goldish stripes and stalked eyes that gave it resemblance to that of a crab or a snail. It glided slowly through the water, ignoring Danny in favor of munching on bits of greenery growing out of the sand. Danny took to ignoring it right back, it was boring, and not as fun to spook while he scrounged for materials.

A creature that was 60% eye was the most entertaining to startle. Despite the little blue fish being bigger than his head it was still terrified of him, darting away at a sped Danny could just barely keep up with. They dodged and weaved leading him in circles until he either got dizzy and lost sight of them or got bored of spinning.

He plucked mushrooms out of the ground, the purple ring surrounding pink insides left a chalky residue that stung his finger tips. Danny didn’t even want to chance eating these, they felt compressed like all it would take was one wrong cut for them to explode into a million pieces. According to his PDA they could be used to make batteries . Rumor has it, battery acid doesn’t taste that good. A high pitched whistling similar to a dog whistle played from his PDA getting louder and higher in pitch the closer he brought the mushroom to his mouth. It was funny how the PDA thought it could stop him if he really wanted to eat poison. Though, if it would stop the PDA from screaming Danny would graciously hold the battery mushrooms in his backpack not his mouth.

Danny used Wilson to bash up stone outcrops, praying the fire extinguisher wouldn’t break against the stone. Shoving chunk after chunk of titanium into his backpack he prayed Alterra had something in their storage modules separating the possibly explosive thing away from each other. Copper was what he needed yet it seemed like it was as rare as gold here. All he needed was one piece, one single piece to make the battery needed for a scanner. Did copper even exist on this planet? It was the main component to most things technological so if it didn’t exist here he was screwed. Hoarding massive amounts of titanium wouldn’t make up for it’s lack in conductivity. Powering tools took electricity, and he didn’t exactly want to risk using a faulty battery in the middle of the ocean. Copper was a must have for the machinery he needed, the fabricator wouldn’t let him substitute materials nor did he have the materials to substitute. For now, he was forced to continue his search, smacking away at the limestone in hopes of the ancients deciding to show mercy and give him what he needed.

Breaks for air were few and far between, the PDA catching on to the difference in biology quicker than he thought it would. Who knew not drowning when all data says you should leaves one eager to reevaluate their data. Oxygen alerts popped up after a minute and a half instead of the normal thirty second warnings. It wasn’t anywhere near his breath holding record before the crash but it was enough to make the PDA slightly less annoying so he considered that a win. When copper finally dropped from an outcrop, he almost cried from relief; not that his tears would mean anything in the ocean. Relief soon morphed into annoyance as every single one of the outcrops he broke afterwards dropped copper. Of course the moment he didn’t need it anymore was the moment it became the only thing that would ever drop! Why wouldn’t it work that way? Clockwork was laughing at him right now he could feel it. Swimming into the nearest cave to drown out of spite didn’t seem that bad of an idea anymore.

“Detecting sulfur deposits in the local cave systems. Sulfur is an essential component of the repair tool.” A colorful, yet morbid animation played on the screen. It depicted a small child putting sulfur into their mouth before being stamped by the image of a skull. It covered the child’s entire body and as the skull faded off screen so did the child, a small grave stone replacing them. This warning was unnecessary but an accurate assumption of his survival skills. Jazz always said he was like a toddler, putting anything and everything he could in his mouth. While not exactly true, she’d seen him eat a plastic spork and watched him drink ectoplasm so he couldn't plead his case without proving her point. Eating random objects was one of his favorite ways to freak people out!

A piercing shriek broke through his thoughts. It sounded like someone taking a wheezing breath when they had the flu and it was rapidly approaching him. A flash red entered his his vison and Danny only had time to make brief eye contact with an alien that vaguely resembled a pufferfish before it exploded sending a cloud of loose sand into the water.

What the hell was that thing!? It just self destructed for no reason! There wasn’t even time for him to get a good look at it before it exploded! It was like the fish took one look at Danny and decided a violent death by self-destruction was the only answer. Why the hell would the PDA warn him about sulfur deposits when their were living tracking missiles swimming around? Did he swim into their territory? Was it protecting something? Ancients he hoped he hadn’t stressed a parent into killing itself to protect it’s babies.

Heading deeper into the caves, he swam towards where he saw Bomberfish emerge. A plant, with a dark beige base almost blended in with the sand. If not for the vibrant red petals with yellow lining bloomed around what looked like pollen but smelled like rotten eggs he might’ve missed it. The pollen was brittle crumpling into a powder like state that sifted though his closed fist. It didn’t take long for him to realize this “Pollen was actually one of the sulfur deposits he was warned about. A gurgle was heard and he twirled around to face the noise. An eye was peeking out through a plant the familiar red petals hiding the boom fish from sight. These things were ultra territorial, or maybe they were guarding the sulfur for some reason? There weren’t any eggs nearby for them to protect. “Living grenades nearby” would’ve been a more fitting warning than “hey you probably shouldn’t eat this” Then again if you told him directly that there were grenade fish in the caves, he would be rushing in there to see it with his own two eyes. The whole point of a warning would be null if it unintentionally encouraged people to rush towards danger with the promise of seeing something cool. He kicked the sand, hiding himself behind the open sulfur plant and waited for the agitated fish to go back into hiding. A cluster of mushrooms nearby illuminated his face as he carefully pocketed the sulfur. Fleeing the cave, he ignored the bomber fishes warning cry as he swam away fast enough to avoid triggering it.

Now all he needed was to craft a battery for the scanner and silicone rubber for the repair tool. Silicone rubber could be made with something called a creepvine seed cluster. Creepvine sounded like a plant your camp counselor would warn you about before going on nature hike. Something that would give you ugly rashes when you inevitably stumbled into a patch of it. The PDA showed him what the materials he needed looked like but not where they were found. Creepvine seed clusters were bulbous yellow seeds that like the name suggested grew in clusters.

It was just his luck that the thing he needed wasn’t in the shallows. In fact, it was located in one of the places he’d been avoiding. Bordering the shallows, tall stalks of kelp grew so tall it almost breached the surface and dense enough that to classify as a forest or at least the ocean equivalent of a forest. The seed clusters were bioluminescent, growing off certain kelp stalks while others remained seedless. The glowing bulbs illuminated chunks of what he could only assume were pieces of the Aroura. A creature long and sleek with jagged teeth lurked in the green tinted waters. Watching, waiting, and ready to strike the moment it’s pray wandered from the safety of the shallows. Often it snatched up pieces of metal, thrashing around with it like an alligator with it’s prey. Sometimes it wandered to the shallows, drawn in by the metallic sheen of scrap and scattered storage crates or lured by dozen of vibrantly colored fish that flourished in the shallows. They never stayed for long, perhaps an instinctual knowledge that scaring prey into migrating elsewhere wouldn’t be good for it’s survival. Picking off stragglers and hunting occasionally was much easier than having to hunt down your preys new breeding ground whenever you wanted to eat.

While their trips to the shallows were short, he didn’t trust a particularly tasty looking prey wouldn’t give them the confidence to venture farther into the shallows. There was no way of knowing a metal muncher wouldn’t stalk him back to the shallows if they saw him on his little errand. No way of telling if their interest in metal was limited to just scraps. The fabricator was his only lifeline right now, his only hope for tools and drinkable water. A fabricator that was built into the wall of a lifepod made primarily of metal that would look oh so tasty to a jagged toothed alligator with a craving for titanium.

There were a lot of things he wanted to do on an alien planet but he didn't want to swim into the home of the metal munching monsters! It was safer to just stay here where the only real threat was a living grenade with territorial issues and the gasmask manatee. The Metal muncher was gigantic and Danny was the perfect bite sized snack! Most of the tastier looking fish were smaller than he was and all Danny had to defend himself was a fire extinguisher and ice powers with the effectiveness of a slushy machine. He’d be the appetizer to tide them over before the main course of a life pod slightly charred!

Impulsiveness and an apparent lack of self preservation was what he was known for by his community but contrary to popular belief Danny didn’t want to die. Back home, he had the strength to hold his own against the attacking ghosts and the friends to back him up when brute force and bullshittery failed. Now he had neither. Hours after the crash and he still couldn’t go ghost; trying to access his powers was as helpful as it’d been during the crash. Worst of all, his friends were lightyears away with no way of reaching him or even knowing what happened. The situation was dire and rescue couldn’t save him or the other potential survivors if he acted stupid and got himself killed. Believe it or not impulsiveness isn’t the same as stupidity; the two could come hand and hand but that didn’t make them the same when they’re separate. No matter what his grades said about him he wasn’t stupid.

Daniel James Fenton, that’s who he is and Fenton’s aren’t stupid.

Common sense ran scarce in their family but intelligence was plentiful. Jazz might be hoarding all the common sense but Danny had just enough to make his own rational decisions every once in a while. Provoking something that big without at least the foundations of a plan would cross the line of impulsiveness and land him with a dunce cap sitting in the corner of his lifepod. That is if he wasn’t torn to shreds first

He couldn’t beat a metal muncher in face to face fight, better to avoid it as much as possible. Out maneuvering one of them wasn’t even an option. His swimming was slow and uncoordinated like the rest of his tiny body. At least stealth would be easier for him like this. The kelp twirled into itself an easy place to hide. Hiding wouldn’t help if they smelt him, the gators snout was long enough to snatch him out of any hiding spot he found. What he needed was something to defend himself but unfortunately, the only weapon he was allowed to fabricate required silicone rubber to make. So unless he wanted to blunt force one of them to death with a fire extinguisher his wit was his only other weapon. Metal munchers seemed to get distracted easily, diverting their attention from him would be an easy task. If he could spare some titanium or catch some of the smaller slower fish he could sneak through the kelp forests mostly unbothered.

Offering food was the safer bet. Carrying around a chunk of metal would slow him down and give the overgrown gators a chance to eat him and his peace offering. Danny chased down fish, snatching up the slower ones in his little hands. They slipped out of his grasp often, his dull nails did nothing to keep the fish from squirming out of his grasp. Sharpened canines although small did great work to puncture and kill whatever unfortunate creature he caught in his maw. It they tasted terrible but what more could you expect of holding a raw fish in your mouth? With a dead fish in his hand, he surfaced for one long gasp of air before delving into the kelp forests. Hope the metal muncher didn’t prefer live feedings.

“Life on this planet grows in distinct and diverse ecological biomes. Further study recommended.” The PDA piped up, playing another short animation of a child using a scanner. The child had three extra fingers sprouting on their wrist and there was an eerie emptiness in the eyes that screamed AI generated. Dismissing the notification Danny began to stalk around the biome. Chunks of sandstone dropped silver, lead and, sometimes gold. A notification popped up for two of the three. Blue lights flashed in his face and Danny had to duck away, hiding inside the curling vines of kelp. The PDA instructed him on handling lead including the usual warning of “Don’t eat it,” given whenever he picked up anything that wasn’t a fish.

It wasn’t his fault that rocks looked so tasty! The only rock he actually put in his mouth turned out to be salt give him a break! A pain in his gums made the concept of chewing on things he wasn’t supposed to more appealing then it was.

A loud shriek erupted, so loud it made his ears ring. Gnashing teeth and dilated pupils stared back at him through the creepvine. With a scream Danny chucked a fish at the creatures face hitting it square in the jaw. Shoving as many seed clusters into his backpack, Danny swam as fast as he could towards the shallows. An indignant shriek of a gator no longer distracted by its snack rang out behind him motivating him to swim faster.

His life pod was in sight, so close yet so far away. With a monster chasing him the short distance felt like miles. Fish scattered in all directions at the sight of his pursuer distracting the gator just long enough for him climb the latter to the top of his lifepod. Air burned his lungs adrenaline rushing through his veins as he stared intently at the retreating form of the metal muncher. The PDA was talking to him. Words that sounded vaguely comforting were drowned out by his rapid breaths and the ringing in his ears.

“Scary,” His voice came out hoarse way too young to belong to him. A string of certain words didn’t make it past his lips. He didn’t know what he was calling scary specifically, everything that’d happened in the past twenty four hours was terrifying. From the crash to the feeling of helplessness he got from being shrunk and hunted. The sky was darkening, soon, the only light he’d have would be from the flames ravaging the Aroura. Another terrifying thought, the Aroura was a tough ship, what could’ve possibly caused that much damage. When Danny was recruited the ship was hyped up as unbreakable, a perfect example of mankind’s brilliance. It wasn’t negligence or a maintenance error, the ship was fine before entering this solar system. With his duel obsession he should have been at his strongest. It couldn’t be a coincidence that his powers went kaput the exact moment the aroura crashes. Something was fishy here and it wasn’t just the living grenades.

The top hatch was heavy and difficult to open. An air tight seal just like the bottom hatch doing more to keep him out than it could with any water. It’d be a lie to say the hiss of air that escaped when it opened wasn’t satisfying If he wanted to investigate further, he needed to repair his life pod. He watched in awe as the fabricator took things from his backpack and turned into something else. Creepvine seeds to silicon rubber, copper and mushrooms to a battery. Silicone rubber, sulfur and titanium to an O2 tank, fins, the survival knife, and the repair tool. A battery and a single piece of titanium built up into a functional biometrical scanner. It was incredible, in just a few minutes Danny went from having nothing to having a knife and other less important tools. If things stayed this easy he’d be ready to fight a minor deity in a matter of days!

A barrage of PDA messages hit him, all somewhat snarky congratulations for crafting but Danny couldn’t care less. His focus was fixated on repairing all the sparking bits and bobs of the lifepod. It was like magic the lights flickered to life as if they’d never been broken in the first place

“Lifepod secondary systems online. Running full environmental diagnostic and outputting results to databank.” The PDA pinged as Danny stepped over the puddle of goop to get to the radio.

“Radio online. Broadcasting emergency distress signal, ”Just like the lights the radio was fixed in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t push down the giddy hopefulness at the sight of blinking red light, a message already was a good sign.

“This is Aurora. Distress signal received. Rescue operation will be dispatched to your location in 9...9...9...9...9.. hours. Continue to monitor for emergency transmissions from other life pods,”

That... That did not sound good.

#It hasn't even been a day and Danny's already tormenting the local wildlife #subnautica au #I'm still deciding what the batfam will be #I'm certain that Jason's going to be an older evolved version of the reaper #Dick might have common ancestors with the amp eel #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #Damian's a mix between a ghost and whatever I design Bruce to be #sea emperor is the sea emperor because I <3 her 4ever #The tumblr post doesn't get beta read lmao

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littledollll · 9 months

Note

hey sweetheart :'3 I was wondering if you were taking request. If you are would you be open to do a Lucifer x little angel reader. I just love your little fic if these and I'm always looking for more if them. I think I've read them all tho. So my idea was that maybe Lucifer and reader could have a fight I'll let you decide why. Then reader decide to go hide from Lucy and our favorite god starts panicking and all. Over all just really cute stuff 😊😊💖 Thank you for reading and have a nice day bby💕

The Gardens

Lucifer Morningstars x Little!angel!reader

A/n: man i just hope this is half decent. Got a little motivated to write about this idea when I got the request which made me very excited! I rarely let us see when R isn’t regressed which is kinda the point? But I think insights like this are really fun to write! (May 6)

A/n pt 2.: finishing this July 21 at 3am, where did I go wrong? I’m so sorry I took so damn long it’s insane bc i don’t even notice time passing. I was looking back at my old fics and noticed I’m always writing R going to sleep? I love that cuz some of my friends actually call me “sleepy” because apparently I’m always tired. (I am)

Warnings: a little arguing, Lucifer says some hurtful things, not much else. Just some sweet fluff after the hurt.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Im the judge here. I alone decide the punishments and how souls will be handled. You might be my partner but you hold no power over me or hell. These are not your decisions to make or have a say on.” It was an angry spew of words. Lucifer doesn’t like having their authority challenged and you were the one person who could do that. For the first time, your own opinions were voiced in their work, and Lucifer didn’t seem willing to listen or like it at all.

Never in your time living in hell had you and Lucifer clashed about something so much.. it hurt, not to be ironic but it hurt like hell. Lucifer had never spoken to you in such a way. Never before had they used their intimidation tactics on you.

Lucifer being unnecessarily stubborn didn’t help at all, as they refused to actually listen to your opinion or swallow their pride and compromise. Or simply speak to you like an equal. Their words almost stung. “You have no power here.” That’s what they meant. And you couldn’t bear to listen anymore or even respond after that.

After a certain point you just gave up and walked away, leaving whatever they were about to spit back, in the dust, mid-sentence, and then ending up with a confused shocked expression. No one gets to just walk away from The Devil.

The worst part was that you wanted to run to them. As if words and a voice laced with venom hadn’t just been thrown in your face. As if they’d protect you even from their own self. They’ve always been your safe space, your comfort.. but you couldn’t, not today, not after your argument.

At first they were fine with you just walking away. They admit to being stubborn and hard to talk to.. everyone needs a little space to think sometimes, right? But then hours and more hours passed and you still refused to show.. it’s like you were hiding from them. There’s nothing Lucifer hated more than the thought of that. Did they really mess up that badly? That you, the most forgiving and lovely being they’ve ever met, simply refused them?

They couldn’t possibly leave it like that. Let you believe they think regularly of you, like you aren’t the most important being in their life, like you aren’t their special angel. So settling their pride aside accompanied with a bit of anxiety, they set out to find you.

You had gone to your safe space.. hiding away physically and mentally, letting your much calmer but also a lot sadder, little self take control.

Lucifer searched high and low for you, all around the palace, going as far as to actually ask for help looking. And thankfully it occurred in their mind that there was always one place you went when you seek comfort, and that was the little hidden gardens of the palace.

And there you were. Quietly sitting by their most recently planted flowers, daisies in fact. They always claimed those flowers suited you perfectly, not just the look, but the meaning. Which included purity, innocence, new beginnings, joy and cheerfulness. All things they saw in you. All things they loved about you. But of course there’s more, so much more that they love.

“My angel..” their voice was a complete contrast to their earlier attitude. Cautious as they approached you but still with a rush to have you close. Lucifer was unsure you’d ever forgive them, but there was no way you could possibly resent them, maybe you should have, but it wasn’t in your heart to reject them, so you let them approach without scurrying away.

Lucifer got down to your level, kneeling down on the floor and holding their hands out for you, which you immediately took, being pulled into a tight hug, their wings wrapping around you, effectively hiding you from the world just because they knew you loved it so much. They pressed a kiss to your forehead before hugging you close again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet angel…”

Not knowing how to respond, you nodded just a little as you nuzzled close to their shoulder, basking in the warmth and comfort of their hug. “I should’ve never said that.. never. And I promise you I didn’t mean a single word of it. I’m.. I’m in no way excusing myself, and my awfully hurtful words- but I’m just not used to this, angel..”

You could understand that.. there’s no being of higher power here in hell, even in the universe actually, no one but them and the very God that created and banished them. They’re not used to being challenged or disagreed with, and ever the sinner they are also quite prideful, even as an angel. “I’ve done this alone for so long.. of course there’s other lords.. and Mazikeen. But not even they step in when it comes to my decisions, and when you did- I felt questioned. Which I recognize should be much more frequent than it is, but it’s a new thing, and I responded very wrongly to it.”

Not for a moment did the soft tone leave their voice, a mere whisper as they hugged you and refused to let go. They’d apologize for eternity if you so requested it. But even in your headspace you could appreciate them taking accountability, and recognizing that it was wrong. Not just that it caused a bad reaction from you. “I’m working on it, I promise. Your opinion does matter to me, In whatever situation, your voice matters to me.”

It hurt, of course it hurt. But Lucifer is always sincere in their word, and they were willing to work together, that’s all that mattered to you. So you quite adorably mumbled out a little, ‘I forgive’, as you rest your chin on their shoulder. And Lucifer couldn’t be happier. “Thank you, my sweet angel.. but also, you can’t hide away from me like that, tiny. You had me running all over the palace looking for you like a maniac!” They said in a more playfully, less serious tone as they chuckled.

“Let’s make a deal, yeah?.. if anything of the sort ever happens again, can I trust that you’ll be in your little room? Even if we’re a little upset at each other I always want to know that you’re safe. I understand needing a moment to decompress and think, that certainly helped me a lot today. But I’d just like to know you’re safe and that we can talk when we’re ready to, how does that sound?” You giggled as their voice took a more playful tone and you nodded, moving away a little to look at them, an adorable little smile painted on your face. “Deals!!” You said, rather excited despite the topic.

Of course you were aware that it was indeed quite possible to run into more arguments and disagreements like this, and even more that you’d slip. But knowing how much they care for you and love you, how much they worry and want you to be safe was quite reassuring that no matter what problems you ran into there wasn’t a thing you couldn’t surpass with just a little talking and cuddles.

They nodded, placing a soft kiss on your temple and deciding just then to take a moment and sit outside with you, which was rare, for reasons neither you or they could quite place. “It’s a deal then..” they replied with a soft tone, and you could hear their smile as they spoke. It was surprisingly quiet, oddly peaceful being out here with you. They scolded themselves for not doing this sooner and made a mental note for next times.

Of course your regression was still a secret and hell can be a dangerous place but the gardens are safe enough, specially with Lucifer and your hound friend who always stayed near. After a few moments, your voice interrupted their train of thought. “luci likes birdies?” The question seemingly came out of nowhere which made them chuckle a bit. “I do. What’s going on in that cute little mind of yours to ask me that, sweet one?” Their tone was obviously amused.

“No birdies in hell! Want one.. like morphi!” It seems your mind was running elsewhere, curiosity of things you always wanted to question but didn’t. “You could have one.. how about a dove? Just like you are my little dove.” Lucifer smiled and placed a little kiss on the tip of your nose, making you giggle and shy away. You were quick to nod and respond with a slight tone of awe. “Dovs pretty!”

“As are you!” Lucifer was never one to make spur of the moment decisions.. well- not at least until you came along. But how could they ever say no to you? The little angel wants a hound and a dove, so let’s get them a hound and a dove. Lucifer sighed, not in an upset manner nor exhaustion. More so in content, amused with themselves for being so susceptible to you. “Well then. Looks like my little dove is getting their own..”

#gwendoline christie #lucifer sandman #little angel (lucifer x little!reader)#sandman lucifer x reader #the sandman #🕊️ anon #lucifer morningstar the sandman #the sandman lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar (the sandman)#the sandman lucifer morningstar #little angel #Little angel (Lucifer x little!angel!reader)

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iwashie · 10 months

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“LIFE IS SWEET AS VANILLA IS” BLLK FACULTY

📌 noel noa, marc snuffy, chris prince, lavinho, julian loki

･ﾟﾟ･｡ warnings- gn!reader, sugar bby!reader, sugar daddy!bllk faculty, 18+ characters, implicit mentions of alcohol, parties, marriage, sex, age gap, reader is cited as pretty/cute baby.

💵 “Would you be my baby tonight? I can be your baby tonight! All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby!” LAVINHO.

Don’t get attached to this man. All he wants is to party with the most beautiful and you are just another cute little face among several others in the middle of the party, feeling his arms around your waist and neck. He will kiss you in front of everyone at the party, in the park, in the dark night, anywhere. He is not afraid to show you, just like his other babies. His love is a nine-day wonder. The days with him are full of luxurious car rides to the most expensive places, expensive shopping, flash cameras here and there, laughter and make out in public, showing you off to everyone. The nights with him are full of desire, warm kisses, light hands, sweaty and glued bodies, moans and whispers, fun in public places like swimming pools, parking lots, against glass from ceiling to floor. Life with him is here and now, pure fun, golden and silver in everything, but don’t get attached because today he is with you and tomorrow he is with another. He has a catalog of cute sugar babies wanting a piece of him.

💵 “Money is the anthem of success and I’m your national success! Hand on the back of my neck. I say ‘Can we party later on?’, he said ‘yes, yes’. Heaven’s in your eyes. God, you’re so handsome!” CHRIS PRINCE.

Get used to the display. He loves to show off and will do the same to you, his hand always on your neck, showing belonging. You’re his alone. Life with him revolves around flash cameras, parties, expensive places, pictures of you two on the front page and all over the internet. He loves his beautiful baby and will do anything for you- mansion, jewelry, fame, cars, travel, expensive food and drink, whatever you want he gives you, he just asks you to be the coolest next to him. Your paradise is surrounded by strange voices and faces, golden and loud laughter. The fun never ends. You’ve found God in blue eyes, blonde hair, his money, and the flashbulbs of beautiful cameras—you’ve learned to like the display just like him. “Tell me, am I glamorous?” You being beautiful and staying with him, nothing else matters. Get ready for the photos on social media displaying the luxurious life and the perfect relationship of you. Images of the body can not miss. He likes yachts and water because he can show off his shaped body and cute baby by his side, his hand on your thigh and ass. The days and nights with him revolve around lights hovering over you. The fun with him is full of passionate kisses, hands on the body, some mark to show territory, but never exaggerated so as not to spoil the beauty of your body. Remember to smile and wave, cute baby.

💵 “Am that pretty that you dream of? All those little times your said I’m your pretty, you make me feel like your entire world. I can’t deny the way he holds my hand, and he grabs me. He has me by my heart.” NOEL NOA.

This man loves you with every bit of his body. He never looks at others because he has the baby he has always dreamed of by his side. He likes to keep your relationship private, but he took you on in a few months of dating and plans to marry you, have kids and a pet, have his family. Everything you ask, he gives you without problems, everything for his beloved. Life with him has flashes of cameras, clothes, cars, rides and rich parties, but he lives in the lull—likes to take you in private places or close the place to the two of you only. He’s a family man- he likes to spend time with you, whether it’s cooking, watching movies, talking, having dates at home like wine at night or just lying with you. The days, nights and fun with him are discreet, just the two of you and your spacious room or house, likes to shower together, calm kisses, strong hands, worship you as his only salvation, rough and passionate moments, sweaty and glued bodies, whispers and a lot of passion.

💵 “He loves me. He gives all his money. That Gucci, Prada, yacht, caviar and oysters, trips. He knows ho to spoil me, my sugar daddy.” JULIAN LOKI.

This man loves to show up with his young, beautiful baby. Ah, the rich youth. No one above his baby. It’s you and only you. A life full of parties, luxury, cars, trips, events, photos, good food and drink. Life surrounded by young money. He doesn’t care if you want things in private or public; he does everything you ask. The days and nights with him are full of rides, parties, rich people, engine noise from expensive cars in races and especially in F1, poses for photos with rich society, vacations on private islands, photos with champagne on the yacht, you on his lap and his hands on your leg, the white smile shining brighter than the jewels on your neck. The fun with him is calm and passionate, foreheads glued and holding hands, fervent kisses, full attention on his cute baby and how many times you put up with it.

💵 “In my dreams, I’ve a plan. If I got me a wealthy man… I’ve finally found you and my life is sweet as cinnamon. Heaven is a place on earth with you.” MARC SNUFFY.

This man loves you more than anything. He has the most beautiful baby next to him, but also a friend, a confidant, a future. You are much more than a cute face to be shown. He would create a money castle if you asked. Life with him is surrounded by old Italian money and the youth wealth- parties in any corner of the world with all kinds of people, but nothing like Sundays at home with family and friends. Holidays in Italy- car rides with your hair in the wind, yacht parties and Italian summer. He doesn’t mind showing affection in public, prefers private things, but can’t help the hand on your lower back and ass or a warm kiss here and there. You always appear together in the photos and you can show the shiny engagement ring. He likes quiet moments at home, just the two of you or people close to him, likes to dance around the house, old movies at night, your food and affection. The fun with him is calm and sensual, likes to have his time with you, calm kisses and strong hands, likes to leave marks on you and make you shiver with his touches, prefers a fun on four walls, but sometimes a quickie in a secluded place, in the car or in the water is also fun for him.

#blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock headcanons #bllk imagines #blue lock faculty #blue lock noel noa #blue lock marc snuffy #blue lock chris prince #blue lock lavinho #blue lock loki julian

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blindmagdalena · 3 months

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Ok, so that ask about the big thighs save lives got me thinking. Imagine hanging out with our bby boy, turning to him, and asking why he likes you or why he loves you. Would he be able to genuinely answer, or would it be bull shit

it certainly wouldn't be bullshit, but Homelander doesn't necessarily have the self-awareness to be able to answer that. he doesn't know how to articulate the security you've brought into his life, the vicious possessiveness he feels over it, or the bone deep, choking fear he has of ever losing it. he would answer as honestly as he knew how to, though.

the standard of course would be a slight laugh and, "Uhhhh, beeeecause... I'm attracted to you? You're hot as hell. You do that thing with your tongue," he says while wiggling his finger.

if you pushed for something more sentimental, he'd start to list the things he likes. largely it would be centered on him.

when he says, "I like the way you touch me." what he means is that you touch him like you want to. there's no hidden tension in your body that tells him you're just waiting to let go. you hold him like you never want to let him go.

when he says, "I like the way you make me feel." he means you make him feel safe. desired. whole.

when he says, "I like you." he means exactly that. all of you. your smell, your taste, the fit of you in his arms.

"I like who I am with you." because when you look at him, you see the hero he has always wanted to be.

"Because you love me."

being a hero was his destiny, but it was being loved that was his dream.

#sorry if i'm being overly cheesy/sentimental i'm wine drunk lmao #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #homelander x reader #homelander headcanons #homelander x you

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findingnemosworld · 8 months

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𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬. ( 𝐇𝐢! 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 )

[ 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 ]

( flex bby boy, we love you )

She stares at her reflection in the vanity mirror, her hair was curled to perfection in beautiful waves, soft features enhanced by the makeup that adorned her face, she topped off the look with a casual floral printed dress, tonight she was going to have dinner with Rúben and his parents, Joao and Bernadete seeing as they were in Manchester visiting for a few weeks, she blinks then shakes her head; grabbing the lip stick to readjust it.

" Baby "

Her gaze travels up to see Rúben standing near the doorway from the reflection of the mirror, he was adjusting the buttons of his shirt then gave her a soft look, " Listen, you'll be fine " he assures her, " My parents already know about you, and they're excited to meet you "

" What if I slip up? or say something that's weird " She huffs, " I don't want them to think I'm too much or that I'm only with you for your money "

Rúben sighs, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. " I love you " he murmurs. " You will be fine, and they'll see just how happy you make me, and besides " he smirks, " I love spending my money to spoil you because seeing you dressed in all those dresses, all those nighties and those damn delicious lingerie sets " he whispers before gently tugging her ear with his teeth. " It's very, very fucking hot "

" Rúben " She gasps, swatting his arm as he chuckled, before finally getting a good look at her when she stood up, " so? "

" Baby, I'm starting to think we should postpone the dinner cause right now " Rúben drawls, wrapping his arms around her waist to tug her closer. " I'm hungry for something else entirely, something far delicious than any food "

Her face grows red, " We're going to be late, so ... if we go through this dinner properly " she said with a seemingly faux innocent smile that had a hint of a deviousness. " Maybe we can try that thing you were telling me about yesterday "

A wicked grin appears across his lips, " You serious? "

" Behave during dinner and ... " She leans closer to his ear, " I'll sit on your face like you always wanted "

Rúben beams, " You got it baby "

His parents were as sweet as he had told her about them, a truly humble and loving couple which affirmed to her just how much Rúben takes after them, Bernadete asks her, " So Dahlia, what do you do for a living? "

She takes a sip of her water glass and smiles, " I am a paediatric doctor, I work with kids "

Joao nods impressively before noting, " For how long? "

" Five years and a half, before that I've completed my internship and residency in America " She responds.

" And how did you meet our Rúben? " Bernadete smiles, " I can't tell you how happy I was when he told us he found someone "

She beams at the remark before responding, " It's quite funny " she recalls that day like it was yesterday, " The kids I work with were massive Manchester City fans, so one day the hospital had contacted the team to make a visit and bring a smile to their faces, that day I decided to dress up as a clown to cheer them up as well, and erm ... " she laughs.

" She literally fell into my arms " Rúben grins, " Best day of my life "

" He helped me up, made sure the kids were thoroughly entertained all for him to come the next week alone with gifts and he not so subtly asked for my number, and the rest is history " She said.

" That's so sweet, you know he never stopped talking about you whenever he calls me " Bernadete cooed, " It's so cute just how much he would boast about you "

" He did " She smiles looking at Rúben who was blushing.

" You really have made him happy and we are very thankful for that " Bernadete nods with a soft smile.

Rúben takes her hand, " Mãe, I'm the one who's happy "

Suffice to say that dinner went very well, his parents promised to pay them a visit sometimes; then they were on their way home, and when they got home, they undressed, showered and got ready for bed - Rúben was quick to pull her onto his lap and smirk, " I believe you owe me something "

She giggles and pressed a soft kiss to his lip, " I do, you're right "

" Come on, we have a long night ahead of us "

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fanfiction #man city

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enam3l · 1 year

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Hi luv! I just finished reading your “rockstar eddie munson does halloween pt.2” fic and OOOF damn was it delicious! I was wondering if I could put in a request for Rockstar!Eddie x reader for headcanons about the paparazzi or media in general being obsessed with Eddie and the Reader’s love story and how they handle it? Like Eddie’s doing an interview with Corroded Coffin and the interviewer loosely asks about the reader and Eddie goes off bragging about his wife and his kids like a lovestruck teenager OR maybe a talk show host is fascinated by their love story as highschool sweethearts or something. Idk what do you think?

Thank you for finally giving me the opportunity to do the big one - how rockstar Eddie met his wife. I got insanely carried away, I am not sure I have ever written this much, not even for my dissertation. This was absolutely a labour of love, I feel kind of silly for how invested I am in characters I've created. Thanks for giving me the perfect way of doing this bby.

the big one: how rockstar eddie met his wife

no TW / SFW / all wonderful heartwarming fluff / a huge insight to rockstar Eddie universe / whopping 11.7k words / enjoy and as always, request whatever! / follow #enam3ls rockstar eddie for more of the story

On a chilly November day, Eddie Munson sits in his favourite booth at The Hideout with a finger nervously circling his glass, it's like he's twenty again and never left. But it's 1999 and he sits there now having his free hand calmingly stroked by his wife who senses his nerves and presses reassuring kisses into his shoulder every time he fidgets in his seat. The bar is empty beside you both, a photographer strolling round the venue taking pictures of its quirks and creaking corners and then at the bar the manager and owner sit chatting to the interviewer. Eddie is next to be interviewed.

Admittedly it's pretty epic that he was about to speak to and be featured in The Face magazine. Ten years since Corroded Coffin released their debut album and having just released their third, Eddie finds himself back in the place it all began. So far in his career, he'd shied away from the press, the press he'd received unwillingly in 86 had been traumatising and enough publicity to last a lifetime. Being famous in his eyes was a collateral consequence of being able to make music as a living. He didn't want the world knowing his business, having his privacy and the home life he loved so much invaded. He was aware that for some reason unknown to him, the media had taken an intrigue into his life with you. Well actually, he could understand their intrigue in you, he thought you were the coolest and most beautiful girl in the world and still had to pinch himself that you'd not only dated him but married him and then had his children. But now he was willing to put himself on the record for the first time.

After a decade in the industry now, Eddie respected his humble beginnings more than ever and respected other artists who'd done the same. He found a common ground between Corroded Coffin and the other musicians they loved and admired, they'd all built there way up, starting at first in places like The Hideaway where he sat again now. Outside of the band he'd developed his own project of raising awareness and money for local independent venues and now The Face had picked up on his work and wanted to document his story and then collaborate in highlighting other small venues across the country which had been the homes of bands we all know. Eddie decided opening up publicly was worth it if it meant helping keeping these places open, giving the next group of lost kids trying to find purpose in music a home. Ever his supporter, you had come along to hold his hand – literally.

Finally the interviewer came round and slid into the booth, sitting across the table from you both. Eddie looked over at The Hideout’s owners who gave him a huge grin and thumbs up, eternally grateful that Eddie had never forgotten them. The interviewer shuffled his papers and flicked on a tape recorder after checking Eddie was ready. The interviewer had been very kind and normal which did help relax Eddie slightly. Until now, Eddie had brushed off magazines, newspapers and chat shows. He didn't want to be ogled at and turned into a spectacle by mainstream media, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him these were the same types who’s berated him and brandished him a ‘freak’ in school. Instead, Eddie had stuck to giving attention exclusively to awkward fans who were making zines from their own rooms or off-beat shows and publications for avid music fans who were allies, not judges. The Face, he felt were an ally so here they were.

‘So, Eddie, we're here in your hometown of Hawkins at a bar called The Hideout. How does it feel to be back?’ the interviewer begins, clearly genuinely interested.

‘Well…’ Eddie hesitates but is spurred on by an encouraging squeeze to his leg from you, 'it's pretty nice to be back in here. It's always nice to be here, it's not my first time back since I was a teen or anything. Our family and friends are here so we come back a lot. Even if the town didn't necessarily feel like home, this place did. You wouldn't think from the outside, I guess. But inside, this place is an escape.’

The interviewer smiles and responds ,

‘Your friends and family are still here? That's cool man. Is it okay to say you're actually here talking to me with your wife? No worries if not, I can cut this!’

Eddie turns to you, he doesn't want to speak for you.

You smile ‘No that's absolutely fine, for the record, I am present.’

You all snigger and the interviewer continues,

‘Awesome, thanks. So I take it then you've been here too, Y/N? It's sweet you're able to see Eddie’s beginnings and really cool that you guys keep coming back and are now supporting it.’

A smile is shared between you and Eddie that the interviewer picks up on.

'Well…’ you begin, 'this place has a lot of history.’

Eddie laughs and agrees ‘yep, you can say that.’

Both of your hands are intertwined together, resting on the table and you both give each other a squeeze at your words. The interviewer notices your tender interactions.

‘Okay, I'm sensing a story here. What does The Hideout mean to you?’

Eddie cracks, he can't resist boasting about you, you're his kryptonite.

‘Sooo… this isn't just where Corroded Coffin started and had our biggest moments, it's actually where me and Y/N started,’ the interviewer lets out a little gasp and Eddie chuckles, ‘well shit, guess that cats out the bag or whatever now man. Yeah, I mean that's a question I get asked a lot. How we met, how we got together. Like fuck, we literally met right here.’

On February 11th 1989, once again the boys of Corroded Coffin find themselves once again back in The Hideout, except now they've got a bestselling debut album. After escaping Hawkins in December 1986 in Eddie’s battered van, they drove straight to New York to play any club that would let them through the door and graft until someone gave them a break. Some lunatic thankfully believed in them, gave them a record deal and now to celebrate not only releasing an album but it being a hit, Corroded Coffin have come home to celebrate in the place it all started. Dustin had called Eddie practically screeching down the phone, him and Steve had been watching the television and Corroded Coffin’s album had been mentioned, it's significant record sales being highlighted.

‘You did it Eddie, holy shit!! They're talking about on the damn tv!!’

Eddie was baffled ‘Woah, Jesus. Calm down, man. Hello to you to. Now what the hell are you talking about.’

Dustin was ecstatic 'Do you not know?! The album, honestly Eddie, how do you not know. It's huge, they're freaking talking about it on tv, how it's fucking awesome!’

Suddenly Steve’s voice takes over the line

‘Yeah dude like on MTV and everything. Legit shit. No weirdo show for metalheads or anything. Everyone is talking about you guys.’

Eddie rolled his eyes at Steve but he was surprised, they'd expected to just be acknowledged by people into their scene, not to be spoke about by everyone else. But for whatever reason, Corroded Coffin had sparked intrigue, people wanted to talk about that band from that spooky ass town in Indiana. Dustin and Steve came up with the idea for them to do a celebration gig at The Hideout, an event for those in the town who'd supported the guys from the beginning. It was actually a pretty cool idea and the guys all liked it and the venues owners had always been supportive of them and were more than happy to have a homecoming.

They'd never expected it to be packed. People coming from everywhere to see Corroded Coffin in their natural habitat. The band, the staff and owners stood backstage laughing, totally dazed. From tickets alone the bar had made more money than it would usually in six months. The owner clapped Eddie on the back and cracked up

‘Shit, I knew letting you punks crash my stage nearly every night would pay off one of these days. Proud of you guys. Now go deafen this fuckin town and make sure they drink this place dry.’

Eddie peers from around the curtain. The Hideout was jam packed, probably a health and safety violation but the perks of being a small venue in a random town was you could get away with those things. Still, he was stunned. They'd played sold out shows before, they'd generated quite the cult following in New York even before they signed a record deal. But this was their first gig since the album released and there was something different about seeing his home venue full like this… for him. His eyes scanned until they fell on a booth closest to the stage, packed in were his friends. Around a table full of drinks sat Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, Eleven and Max. They spotted him and cheered and waved like madmen. Eddie would forever be grateful for their unconditional support and how they'd stuck together after escaping the unthinkable.

A poke from Gareth got Eddie’s attention. It was showtime. The boys huddled together in a circle chanting to psych themselves up, a ritual they'd continued on from their Hellfire days. Each member grabbed their instrument, let out a nervous round of woops and stepped out one by one on stage. Blinded by the lights and deafened by the cheers.

Earlier that evening, across the road from the bar, a battered car pulls up outside The Forest Motel. The driver climbs out, legs a little stiff from the journey. As the door slams shut a puff of dust jumps into the air, the car decorated in a thin layer of the stuff from travelling cross country. They fumble with the boot to retrieve a leather duffel bursting at the seams, close the boot and look up to assess their home for the next two nights. Neon lights flicker on the sign meaning only ‘The rest Motel’ read clearly, a happy accident they suppose but doubt their nights will be restful based on the thumbing radiating from a bar across the narrow road. The area is run down, the only things on the small street placed within the forest being the motel, the bar, a small greasy looking café and a twenty-four-hour liquor shop. As they'd turned off the highway into the town the wooden sign labelled as ‘Hawkins,’ it was hard to ignore the overwhelmingly gloomy aura of the place. As soon as the threshold was crossed, the sky becoming a little darker, air a little stiller, the trees taller and somehow more daunting than the ones that had lined to highway.

Duffle over shoulder, the driver pushed through the heavy doors into a dated, kitschy lobby area. A receptionist sat at the desk flicking through television stations until landing on MTV which blared loudly. Satisfied the receptionist looked up noticing the driver’s presence and scrambled, straightening her uniform and whizzing her chair over to the computer.

Flustered but smiling she apologised ‘Hi, I'm so sorry! I totally zoned, this is like the quietest it's been all day! Do you have a booking?’

The driver came over to the desk, letting the duffle hit the floor as they rested their elbows on the counter. Smiling back they replied ‘Yeah, yeah I do. It's Y/N. One night. Is it okay that I'm checking in late?’

The receptionist looked relieved and confessed ‘Oh thank god because we do not have a single room available if you hadn't booked. The place is soo full, it's usually a total ghost town. Yeah checking in now is no problem but you're kinda late for the gig though? Most people came this morning or afternoon.’

Your face wrinkles in confusion and you have to ask ‘Oh no sorry I'm not here for… the gig? What gig is it?’

She now gasps and clasps her had in excitement

‘Ohmygod you don't know? So like okay so these guys they like went to my high school, total losers then but whatever anyway turns out they're not like a hot band. I mean they're not my thing really, so noisy… anyway! They're debut album just went right into the charts and now they've come back here. You know that dirty looking bar over the road? Yeah! That's where they started and they're doing a homecoming gig to celebrate. Sooo cool right??’

You blinked, trying to process the barrage of words she just practically squealed out. Although she's at least clarified why the seemingly dingy bar was so loud and looked so busy.

Attempting to force a polite smile you reply ‘Yeah, that's awesome.’

The look in her eye gives away that she's disappointed your energy didn't match hers or that you hadn't asked for gossip about the guys you assume she probably would only give the light of day now because of their fame. The receptionist rustles around the desk sighing, realising you're really not going to give her more.

‘Well… here's your key. Room number 12. Go outside, up the stairs then it's the last door. Have a good stay.’

Her clear disappointment makes you feel a little bad so you make sure to give her a bright smile as you thank her and take the key. As you collect your duffle and head towards the door you came through before, your head snaps round at the sudden volume increase on the television and a girlish squeal from the receptionist.

'Ohmygod! Wait! Come back! Look, look!’ She's stood back up now, jumping on the spot with her hands flapping like a crazed fangirl. You shuffle back over and you gaze in the direction of the television, still on MTV, which she points to. A bright pink manicured nail taps the screen at the music video playing.

‘That's them! That's them! See, they're like actual rockstars. Totally crazy they came from this shithole ugh I wish I wasn't working. You should try and go, at least someone should have fun.’

You laugh and nod ‘Maybe!’ you linger for a moment watching the video and waiting for the band members to appear but they don't, the gloomy music video only shows a little girl kicking a hideous monster's ass. The music however is good, heavy on guitars with surprisingly nice vocals.

Once you're finally in the room, you immediately flop onto the bed. Exhausted from driving all day, legs stiff and fingers cramping. A groan escapes when you remember your journey is barely over, still to cross the state borders to get to your final destination of Chicago. As cliché as it sounds, your job was your dream one, allowing you to get paid for being creative and travel the country but admittedly that could be draining at times. It'd been a long time since you'd been able to call somewhere your ‘hometown,’ the receptionist’s rambling had reminded you of that and the idea of calling a place ‘home’ made your heart twinge a little. The small apartment in New York that the company provided wasn't home, you didn't chose it, you barely decorated it and frankly, you were never there. It was basecamp if anything, where you kept the majority of your belongs and near the main office – practical not personal.

The shower thankfully was hot unlike the other motels you'd hit so far and soothed your aches. Once out of the bathroom you noticed the music radiating from across the road was even louder, you peak from behind the curtains at the bar. It's almost vibrating from the amps. God, you were tempted. Even if the band weren't there and even if their music had sounded god awful, you really could do with a drink and going to a bar was a lot less depressing than drinking a bottle of rum from the liquor store next door out of plastic cups from the motel, alone and overthinking. Fuck it, you think, you're going to go. Worst case scenario you can make the giddy receptionist feel better by telling her she didn't miss out, best case scenario you dance until your feet hurt and have some drunk sex with a stranger. After drying your hair and doing your make up, you pick out a long sleeve black mini dress and some knee high black boots and thank the universe for giving you a job full of trendy people so you actually have to make effort at work. You analyse yourself in the mirror and decide for someone who is sleep deprived and not slept in their own bed in days, you look pretty good.

The best thing about motels is not having to go through reception to leave or arrive meaning you can make all the worst life choices possible without getting a single judging look from a knowing receptionist. In this case, you just didn't want to be spotted by the receptionist and admit she persuaded you, you're also a little worried she might make you take her with you. The bar is heaving, even from the outside. People litter the street out front smoking and chattering, the variety of people tickles you. Hard weathered metal heads all leather clad are mixed among mild mannered suburbanites and a surprising amount of scantly-clad hot girls. It's sweet you think to yourself, how this random town has gathered together to celebrate the band and how clearly they have a fan base who are dedicated enough to come all the way out here just to be a part of the moment. The gangs of girls makes you wonder again what the band look like, you're baffled how a group of guys the receptionist cruelly called ‘losers’ could end up with attention like this. You have an inkling the receptionist was definitely wrong about them.

Luckily once you're at the door, they still have a couple of tickets left but they warn you it's already started. It's a struggle to even get into the room, bodies rammed together and bouncing in motion along to the song they're mid way through. The place is deceptively big and all wooden panelled, more like a real venue than a bar with a huge open standing area, an upstairs balcony and long bar on the left hand side that is crammed with people. On the right hand side there's a row of plush red velvet booths. You wonder what The Hideout was before it was a bar, it looked as if it once could've been a beautiful theatre but that memory is wiped out by blaring guitars which you can only hear and not see over the crowd. Wiggling between people and feeling embarrassed at being an inconveniences you suddenly get caught in a sweep of the crowd as a new song begins to play and clearly it's a favourite as suddenly everyone turns to get closer to the stage.

Eventually, you're able to pop out the other side and finally get to the now abandoned bar. As you lean over the bar top to look at the bottles lining the walls, you're bumped into. You stumble back as a drink splashes all over your boots. A loud frantic voice brings your head back up from staring at the puddle you're now stood in.

‘Oh shit!! Oh man, I'm so so sorry! Shit, they said I'd spill the drinks as well. Crap. Are you okay? Shit. Let me get you some paper towels.’

A boy in his late teens stands in front of you, he has a sweet face, an impressive mop of curls on top but most impressively he's wearing a Weird Al t-shirt to a metal gig which makes you laugh. He's brandishing napkins at you before you can respond. Taking them you giggle,

‘Hey, hey honestly don't worry! It's only my shoes and it's probably the least gross thing I'll step in here… cool t-shirt though.’

He grins now practically ear to ear, his smile somehow warms your heart and the compliment makes him look like he might hug you.

‘THANK YOU! Can you say that again to my friends? They tried to make me change. Hey look let me get your drink to apologise anyway and to thank you for backing me and Al up?’

You attempt to shake your head and wave your hands

‘No no don't worry about it honestly, I'm okay!’

But he's already got the bartenders attention and his smile persists.

' I insist! Plus we've got a tab anyway,’ he turns to look at you now with a proud look on his face and he points towards the stage, ' the guitarist over there? One of my best friends.’

The stage is visible from the bar but between the bright lights and the fact there's multiple guitars on stage, you're not sure which is his friend but you're still impressed and love how proud he is of his friend too.

‘Damn, that's really cool. Well thank you so much then!’ You give the bartender your order then turn back, 'I hadn't heard of these guys, I'm not from here. Just at the motel and heard about it. Thought I'd check it out, so far, so good.’

He nods thoughtfully, ‘Awesome! I was going to say, I've never seen you before and it's a small town so, y’know. Oh shit, I'm Dustin by the way!’

You introduce yourself and shake the hand he's extended out. The bartender slides your drink over and you take it. You look around and shuffle awkwardly, realising you're not sure where to go or what to do now. Dustin clearly notices and gathers his drinks and nods his head in the opposite direction as if to signal you somewhere.

‘Well Y/N, let us adopt you for the night! Come on and join our band of misfits supporting the actual band. We've got a booth, it's pretty sweet.’

Knowing you've got no one else and also that you cannot reject that sweet face you smile and follow him through the crowd. The booth is packed with the whole group buzzing, bouncing in their spots and craning their necks to spot their friend on stage. Nothing needs to be said, you just know how much they love their friend and for the second time that night, your heart twinges at the thought of something absent in your life. A girl, probably the same age as yourself is stood by the table waiting for Dustin’s arrival. Immediately upon seeing you both she is fussing the boy and collecting the drinks, you can already tell she's the mom of the group. Her eyes dart between the two of you, clearing waiting for an explanation about the strange girl encroaching on her team, for a mild looking girl she is surprisingly terrifying. Dustin slings an arm round your shoulder, saving you and guides you to the table, now getting everyone's attention.

‘Guys! This is Y/N, she's with us for the night after I may have possibly spilt a beer on her… sorry Steve.’

A guy with handsome boyish looks, caramel eyes and fantastic hair gives Dustin a scowl and groans

‘Agh, Dustin! I knew this would happen, man. You gotta be more careful,’ the terrifying girl backs him up but he turns to you with a charming smile ‘I’m always telling him this. But I'm not complaining you got wet, it means we get to meet you Y/N.’

You try not to snigger at the accidental innuendo but a laugh escapes. The rest of the group (aside one teenage girl with brown hair who just looks confused) stare at him, gobsmacked and shaking their heads. Another teenage girl with beautiful red hair groans audibly and let's out

‘Jesus Christ, Steve!’

The terrifying girl clips him round the head with the back of her hand as two guys who you're pretty sure are stoned, burst out laughing. Another girl with a light brown messy bob saves the conversation and introduces herself as Robin then points to each member,

'You've clearly met Dustin and unfortunately, Steve. Then Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and the rugrats are Max, El, Mike, Will and Lucas.’

Robin then shoos everyone down the booth for you to hop in, you sandwich in between her and Steve.

The mix of ages confuses you slightly so you cave and ask, ‘So… I gotta ask, how do you know each other?’ They look between each other, as if there's a secret on debate that you're not privy to. Nancy takes the lead again,

' Well we all went to school together. We are…’ and she points to herself and the older people ‘pretty much the same age and then that's my brother Mike and his friends and we've all sort of merged into one big group.’ It's clear they're all incredibly close, the age gap not an issue and a sense that they are each other's family and will be bonded for life. The young ones are eighteen and the others early twenties like yourself. Your curiosity is killing you though and you cave,

‘So what about the band? Your friends with the guitarist right, how do you know him?’

Laughs are shared between them again, you sense another secret that's not for you to hear. Mike speaks up for the first time,

‘Eddie? School as well! He was kind of our mentor,’ he points between the other boys his age, ‘he was older. He urm…repeated a few years so he's like twenty four now?’ Mike is nudged in the ribs by Lucas now who interrupts,

‘Clearly, Eddie didn't need school because now he's a freaking rockstar,’ he points to the side of the stage furthest from you, ‘and the other guys all went to school with us too.’

Your view is still obscured, between stage lights and the distance, the infamous Eddie remains a mystery man. But you can still work out his guitar over the other members and can hear his surprisingly soft voice blending in with the lead singer's, the band is amazing but something about him stands out even whilst he's faceless.

Corroded Coffin reach their final song and you're a little tipsy and truly feeling part of the group. It's the most included you've felt in so long, the most fun you've had since leaving college. You've all been throwing yourselves round and heads banging, the gang serenading each other with the lyrics they've learnt by heart to all the songs. When the band finishes the crowd go wild, screams and cheers lasting for minutes. It's endearing as you see the band visibly flustered at the praise and the lead singer thanks them repeatedly, evidently baffled. Once they leave the stage and the lights come on a little, you worry that this is the end of your evening, the end of your time with this group you've known for an hour but somehow you want to cling to. But a little tug at your sleeve pulls you out of your worries, Robin is smiling and says

‘We’ll be sticking around for a bit, we want to congratulate our rockstar! We've not seen Eds in months and this place will be open for a while. Wanna stay?’

You can't hide your grin and nod enthusiastically, your grin only expands when the sweet girl pulls you in for a hug. She's right, it's clear they're not going anywhere but you decide now the crowd is thinning out, you’ll go to the bathroom.

The bathroom is thick with perfume and cigarette smoke. Gorgeous girls are gathered round the mirrors, reapplying make up, adjusting outfits and taming hair. You slide into a cubicle. Once in there you can't help but listen to the chatter.

‘Eddie is so fucking hot, it's those tattoos. His arms? The way they flex when he plays. I want to eat him.’ A second voice responds,

‘Bitch, I have every intention of eating him all up tonight.’

A third now chimes in,

‘You fucking wish, that cheap ass push up bra you wore at the San Francisco gig didn't even make him budge.’

The girls continue to bicker, more voices getting involved discussing Eddie, his dating life and sex appeal as well as the other members. It's driving you insane hearing so much about this man and still having no face to go off. Even with the information you have, it's hard to form an image or opinion of him. Within the past two hours since you've heard of Eddie’s existence, he's been referred to as a loser, a rockstar, a sweetheart, a role model and now, a sex god. When you finish and clean up, you leave the bathroom, still stuck behind the gaggle of fangirls as they continue to debate the things they want to do to each band member.

Eddie is exhausted. Him and the rest of Corroded Coffin came straight off the press circuit around California, onto a plane and then to The Hideout. He wants to see his uncle and have a long nap in his old bedroom, he wants to finally see his friends after being separated for so long. It's all he could think about on stage and he felt guilty. Homecoming for Eddie was being reunited with his friends, that's who he wanted to do this gig for. But instead he spent the night looking out onto a sea of people who for most of his life have hated him, belonging to a town that once never wanted him to return. The fame was bittersweet, getting to play music professionally was a dream, being forced once again into the public eye was not. The CIA, admittedly did an excellent job doing a thorough retraction of previous claims made about him but Eddie can't forget how this town treated him because they treated him like a criminal long before he allegedly was one. Now they have the audacity to praise him and ask things of him. They don't actually like his music because his music has always been the same and they didn't like it before. They don't actually like him personally because he's the same as ever and they didn't like him before. They liked that his name meant something other than bad news now and they could have a tangible link to him. There's a handful of people he owes in Hawkins, people who can ask anything of him because they always gave him so much: the band, the gang, the owners of the Hideout, his Uncle Wayne and then Joyce and Hopper.

Amongst the people of Hawkins there are real fans of Corroded Coffin and he feels guilty about that too. They've come all the way out here to see him but he's letting himself fall to the side of the stage, mostly out of view and hidden by a strategically placed stage light. Usually on stage he's wild and gives it his all, he embodies a similar state he gets when he's being a Dungeon Master but in front of his former ‘neighbours’ he already feels naked and he'd very much like to hide.

Once the set has finished and wires are removed, Eddie all but runs from backstage into the bar where he knows his friends are. They're sat in a booth he got the bar owner to reserve for them, it was their regular seats long before he left Hawkins. Every single one of them came. They spot him too and run over. It's a pile on, a tangling of limbs and hair. These people are Eddie’s home and fuck, he thinks, he's felt a part of him missing without them. He loves the band, they've been friends for years but there's a bond between Eddie and the gang that goes beyond friendship, they're bonded by life and death and the horrific bits in-between that no human is ever meant to know. Once they all untangle, Eddie hugs everyone individually and is then bombarded by congratulations and compliments and he can take these ones because he knows they're genuine.

His final hug is with Dustin, who he clings onto a little longer than the rest and then lets his hands, stinging from playing all night, ruffle the boys soft curls.

‘Fuck, I missed you man.’

Dustin grins, the feeling is more than mutual.

‘Eddie! That was the most metal ever! And thank you for sorting the booth out. Shit it was all so awesome.’

Steve sidles over now, never wanting to miss out. He slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and jabs him.

‘Yep, the kids right bro. Even I could tolerate your screaming. You guys were hardcore out there.’

Eddie sees Steve’s smug face waiting for a reaction to his cheeky jibes and Eddie is not above giving him one. He lunges his own arm forward and dares to muss the locks of thee Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. Steve gasps and stumbles backwards and away, quickly attempting to restyle his hair as he does, Eddie turns too and sees a noisy gaggle leaving the women’s bathrooms.

‘Shit.’ Eddie wishes immediately that the Upside Down had granted him the power of invisibility and not just some gnarly scars. Fan girls. He recognised a few, they show up at a lot of events and gigs. On one hand he appreciates their commitment, they do love the music and they are the reason he has an income, on the other hand he's absolutely terrified of them and is stumped by their desire and persistence. Eddie was no virgin, he hadn't been before he left Hawkins and he definitely wasn't now. It turns out that outside a small town, people seem to think Eddie is hot and what Hawkins called ‘quirks’ and ‘uncool’ was actually pretty cool in the city. Now, he can't lie, some of these girls are gorgeous and he may have slept with one or two on some very dark days. They're mostly kind women who mean well but their persistence scares the crap out of him and he's acutely aware that in high school they would've bought drugs off him yet recoiled at his touch. They don't know him, they don't really see him as a person, they see him as a symbol or whatever.

Carla, who could be described as the ring leader, is quick to pounce. She totters over to Eddie, hand immediately on his arm, fingers squeezing over prominent veins.

'Eddie, baby, you guys were so fucking hot tonight. Totally dominated…’ her long finger twiddles with a curl of his hair, ‘shame about that light though, couldn't see your sexy concentration face… you know I like that.’

Carla is too close for comfort and Eddie worries for a moment his strategic hiding was been rumbled but she doesn't dwell on it. But her words drown out as someone moves from around the fan girls. In fact, the world drowns out.

Eddie’s eyes are drawn to you in a way he's never felt before. The room around him feels dark and you're like a gentle candlelight, the only thing he can process. His nails dig into his palms, willing his body to do something except stare and sweat. You're beautiful in a way that feels otherworldly, belonging as an elven queen from a Hellfire world or an enchantress he would write lyrics about. You don't belong in somewhere as underwhelming and sad as Hawkins. Eddie certainly doesn't feel like you belong in a world he is a part of.

‘Oh, hey Y/N! Over here!’

Eddie's daze is broken by Steve’s voice and Eddie feels his heart sink as your head whips round to see Steve. Y/N is you and Steve knows you. The neutral look previously on your face is broken by a blooming smile as you walk towards Steve. Eddie could be sick, he feels eighteen again, small and invisible. Is Steve yours? In his absence, did Eddie miss the part where Steve met someone and was bringing her as a date to the gig. His eyes burn at your shoulder where Steve’s hand has found its way to and looks comfortable, like it belongs on your body. You must be Steve’s. Eddie feels ridiculous and a little creepy, fantasising about a stranger.

Realising Carla is still clutching him, Eddie apologises and excuses himself, brushing her off as he turns back away to the rest of his friends. He's about to shuffle away when his ears prick as Steve calls him name.

‘Eddie! Eddie, this is Y/N. We adopted her for the night, another poor innocent victim of Dustin’s butter fingers.’

‘Y/N, Eddie’s here now. Come, let me introduce you to the man of the hour…’ Steve’s hand on your shoulder guides you forward, you're still not sure who you're looking for, ‘Eddie! Eddie, this is Y/N. we adopted her for the night, another poor innocent victim of Dustin’s butter fingers.’

Next to the leggy blonde girl from the bathroom, a long tumble of curls span round. This was Eddie, and you could understand why the girl was planning on eating him. The mystery face was unveiled and your breath felt stuck in your throat. You were thankful now for the light that had hidden him from your sight all night as surely had you known this is who you'd be meeting, you'd have crawled out the tiny bathroom window. You felt lost in eyes flecked with every shade of brown which caused your cheeks to in turn go every shade of red. Fingernails dug into the nail bed of your thumb, hoping the sting would shock you into doing anything other that gawp at this poor man who probably spends his life fending off strange women who are undressing him with their eyes. Not that you're undressing him with your eyes, you're really trying very hard not to do that.

Neither you or Eddie are sure of how long you've been staring at the other, although both of you are unaware at the way the other is staring. Luckily the bubble is pierced by Dustin’s giddy voice,

‘Oh awesome! You guys met!’

Dustin appears between the two of you along with Robin.

Simultaneously both you and Eddie muster up a whispered,

‘Yeah…’

Robin looks between the two of you and a smirk forms, you are both looking at each other as if it's the first time you're seeing in colour – eyes slowly blinking, mouths agape in a little O shape. Neither of you are subtle. Robin nudges Dustin who then nudges Steve, all three now feeling they're witnessing the start of something between two completely oblivious people. A cough from Robin breaks the lingering stares once more,

‘Boys, do you want to get more drinks? Come on, Y/N we’ll go back to the booth.’

You're both dragged apart. You can't help but notice the way the girl from the bathroom who had been pawing at Eddie is left standing speechless and disoriented at the rejection. A part inside you feels smug and you want to beat it away for enjoying the disappointment of others at their loss of something you want.

‘Yeah… you're fucking welcome man,’ Steve chuckles as he claps Eddie on the back. Eddie shakes his head confused,

‘Huh? What do you mean?’

Dustin scoffs,

‘What do we mean? We just found you you're god damn dream girl, Eddie!’

Eddie looks over at you again, you're back at the booth and twiddling with an empty glass and he has to tell himself that when he looked over, you hadn't really snapped your head away, caught staring at him too. Wishful thinking, Munson he told himself. Love is not something for Eddie. He was lucky to be alive, luckier to have escaped Hawkins and then even luckier to have become a musician. There was no more luck left to be had, he understood. Love was just not meant for him, he'd used his three magic wishes from the universe and he just had to accept it. He was grateful for the occasional hook up and fling but feelings were never involved, for one, Eddie didn't ever feel comfortable enough with new people to let himself be open and vulnerable. Eddie sighs,

‘How do you know she's my dream girl?’

Steve and Dustin look irritated at his doubting.

‘Well she fucking looks like THAT for starter,’ Steve gestures exasperatedly.

‘Aaand she's so cool, Ed. Does all this cool creative work, likes all these cool bands that we've never heard of but you probably have. And, and, she knew what D&D was! She was genuinely interested when Mike blew our cover and got nerdy,’ Dustin lists breathlessly. Steve hums in agreement

‘Oh yeah! She was super nice about that, I've never met a girl that hot listen and understand to all your guys nerdy wizard shit. And she spoke to everyone, asked about all our lives, about you!’

Eddie is flustered at all this information, he had kind of hoped you sucked so he didn't have to feel so awkward and desperate. He had really hoped the little voice inside his heart saying 'give this one a chance,’ before he knew a thing about you, was wrong. However, he knew how protective the boys were of him and yet here they are giving him a sales pitch about you, a girl who even when nameless he felt he'd walk through glass just to know. Eddie presses his palms to his eyes and rubs. A deep groan escapes him,

‘Ughhh, fuck,’ he sees you still twirling the empty class, ‘shit. Fuck. Fine. Shit, okay what was she drinking?’

Dustin can't contain a skip of glee, Steve feels proud and his solemn friend’s bravery.

' Whiskey sour,’ Dustin announces with glee.

Eddie sighs, of course that was your drink. Cool drink for a cool girl. Damn it.

You were still trying to catch the breath Eddie’s presence stole once you got back in the booth. Robin’s hand still clutched around you wrist from having to force your limbs into action. Everyone at the table had intrigued and slightly smug faces as if they were waiting for you to tell them something. Nancy broke the silence,

‘Sooo… Eddie is nice right?’

You looked around, everyone was leaning forward and nodding, desperate for a response.

'Urm,’ you stuttered, 'We barely spoke?’ Although you were trying to stop the alcohol buzz taking over your tongue and spouting out ‘yeah hella nice to look at.’

The group clearly weren't satisfied with the response. Max takes the reigns now,

‘Well you'll speak tonight!’

Robin nods 'absolutely, we'll make sure of it!’

Sweet little Will is next ‘mmhmm, Y/N, you'll love him! You're so similar!’

If you didn't know better, you'd think these people you've known for an evening were trying to set you up with their friend. But as you're scanning the faces of your new pals with narrowed eyes, an awkward cough and shuffling of feet distracts you.

A large hand reaches a drink over to you, a litter of rings chiming against the glass and veins flexing as the hand lingers for a moment. Eddie stands at the edge of the booth, his warm eyes sparkling and a nervous smile on his face.

‘For you… Y/N’ he mumbles, ' Dustin said this is what you were drinking.’

It was, Dustin was right but this one was embellished with extra garnishes you hadn't received before. A big sugary cherry on top, a small straw and a couple of decorative leaves. You tried your hardest to only focus on the drink and the handsome face standing above you, refusing to let the Cheshire Cat grins surround you distract. Shit, you absolutely were being set up and you can't be mad when those big soft eyes blink at you hopefully.

You beam up at him, ‘thank you so much Eddie. You guys were amazing… definitely turned around a boring evening in a shitty motel for me.’ Your fingers brush as you take the glass from him and the static that runs between your skin shocks any confidence out of you. Eddie hesitates again when his hand retracts as he assesses the seating situation. Both of you are suddenly hyper aware the only space for him is next to you, oh these people are good you both thought, they've plotted this.

He nervously eyes the seat and then you, you wonder how someone who looks so confident and is a literal rockstar, could be so timid. He's probably had a million girls, you'd just witnessed a whole posse swoon over him. You shuffle over some more and pat the seat to invite him, he slides in carefully as if to be sure your bodies are not touching, preventing anymore thrilling electricity between your skin. The rest of the group have started babbling away again, clearly satisfied that their plan has come together. Eddie can't help his eyes linger on the straw you've now taken between your lips, he's often wished he was something other than himself however he's never before desired to be a straw. Brushing rogue curls behind his ear, he clears his throat and takes the leap,

‘So… hey, Urm… did you enjoy it?’

You swallow and smile, taken aback he'd even ask considering there wasn't now a non-hoarse voice in the building.

‘Yeah! You guys were amazing. Admittedly, I never heard of you guys before but the receptionist at the motel told me to come and I took a chance. I’m glad I did,’ you notice you're rambling and Eddie is giving slow blinks, ‘but… um, yeah. I could hear you over everyone else.’

Eddie had no idea who this receptionist is but he decides she may go on the list of people he owes, he's flattered and feels a smile creeping over his face until you say the last part. Then he panics.

‘Oh shit, did I fuck up?’ He's trying to run through the entire set in his mind, ‘fuck, was my amp too loud?’

You feel awful at the clear panic now covering his face and running through his voice, instinctually your hand reaches out and clutches his forearm to reassure him.

'No, no, no! I just mean… it just felt you played a little bit harder than everyone out, your voice stood out still amidst everything,’ your next words fall out without thinking, 'I couldn't see you but you were all I was paying attention to.’

Eddie’s heart flutters, he thinks you might be the sweetest thing in the world. He's trying desperately not to draw attention to your hand clutching him because he doesn't want it to withdraw. Your touch no longer causes static, it's now radiating soothing warmth and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels calm.

‘Thank you… you're lovely,’ he whispers and you both just sit and smile at each other. You don't want to take your hand away either.

The two of you continue to chat, you're both aware you're at a packed table and yet neither of you care. You're both desperate to absorb as much information about the other as possible, neither of you wanting to address the voice in the back of your heads saying you’ll never see each other again. Awkward teen years and unconventional families and childhoods bond you. Both understand each other as larger than life personalities that mask sensitive insides that aren't built for the judgment of small towns. As you talk, neither of you notice your hand had slid down his arm and stayed rested on his thigh, own hand tantalisingly close. When Eddie notices, he lets his little finger brush against yours. He realises he's never felt this comfortable with a woman before, he's comfortable around Robin and Max particularly but it's platonic and it took time. With you he feels relaxed and the step to let his pinky continuously stroke over your hand feels natural and he doesn't want this to be platonic but he doesn't want it to be only sexual, he just doesn't want you to leave. The feeling is mutual.

Neither of you notice the crowd has gone, the bar empty aside from the group who are beginning to look a little tired and restless. You and Eddie are lost together until Nancy appears at the side of the table and gets your attention.

‘Hey guys, I'm really sorry but we're going to head off. It's getting late. Y/N it was so nice to meet you, Dustin got all your details right?’ You nod and grin and hope he uses them. ‘Great! And Eddie, we’ll see you at Steve's tomorrow night?’

Eddie nods and squeezes your hand as he drops it to get up to hug everyone goodbye, they all say bye to you and how they're so glad you ran into each other and they hope to see you soon. Once they leave, the bar is empty beside you, Eddie and the bar staff. Both of you can't help but look at each other grinning and erupting into giggles like little sugar rushed kids.

‘Do you want another drink?’ Eddie asks hopefully.

You nod enthusiastically, leaving was not an option that crossed either of your minds.

‘I'm just having a coke, what do you want?’ Eddie doesn't want a drop more of alcohol, he wants to be sober around you, a feeling he's not used to around women. He's scared alcohol will cheapen the moment or will prevent him from savouring every second of your company.

‘Good idea, a coke too please,’ you ask sweetly. You don't want alcohol, you want the sugar to keep you awake as long as possible to prolong this night.

Eddie strides over to the bar, the owner and manager stands behind counting bills.

‘Hey man, we still good to get some drinks?’

The owner looks up at Eddie then you, sat in the booth but gazing over at Eddie, moony eyed. He chuckles, ‘Sure. You reaping the rewards of being a rockstar now?’

Eddie shakes his head, a little embarrassed and a little irritated at the thought of you being depicted as nothing but a hook up because he's desperate for that not to happen. But he knows the owner, known him long enough to be a little vulnerable.

‘No, no, no. She's no fangirl, if anything I feel like a fan boy trying to impress her.’

The owner smiles as he makes the drinks, he's witnessed first hand how Eddie has come into his own over the years and he mocked at first but he knows Eddie is a sweet kid.

'Enjoy,’ he smirks as he passes over the drinks, ‘you got about thirty minutes before we finish clearing and then you guys gotta find a new place to make eyes.’ For the hundredth time that night, Eddie’s cheeks heat up.

You're sat waiting and the doe eyes you have whilst watching Eddie return to the booth makes him feel sticky sweet inside. Despite the empty booth, you make sure you're sat, knees touching as you angle yourselves so you can look at each other properly. Eddie decides to gamble and admit that time is ticking,

‘We’ll have to leave after we finish these…’

Your heart sinks. Part of you hope some how time would stand still and you could stay in this encounter forever, no journey to travel to, no flat states away you'd have to return to and more importantly no extravagant life for this boy in a band to go and get lost in. The sickening thought that you're both rogue bodies passing in the night and you'll lose track of each other has been pulling at you all night.

Looking into your drink, scared to see Eddie’s response, you almost whisper,

'I'm not done yet… with tonight.’

A silence lingers and you don't want to look up and see Eddie’s face twisted at your desperation. But that's not the expression on his face, his face is soft but shocked and his pupils dilate at your words, letting himself get lost in the thought of never letting you go. A pinky from his hand that clasps his glass, nudges yours which is also wrapped around your glass. Your pinkies hook around each other, his tiny touches reassure you and you dare to look up. His smile is the biggest you've seen all night, it's beautiful, he is beautiful.

‘Me neither,’ he whispers back.

You don't know this town but you assume everywhere is shut so you take the plunge,

‘Look… I'm in the motel over the round,’ his eyes widen at your words, 'do you just want to carry on there? I have snacks?’

Eddie refuses to let nerves win and take away this chance from him, his pinky squeezes yours.

‘Sounds good,’ he smiles. Your fingers unlink so you both can finish your drinks, you do so in silence, both a flurry of nerves. Glasses clunk to the wooden table top simultaneously. Eddie waits a second before getting up then offering his hand to help you slide out the booth. He drops it once you're safely on your feet and you wish he hadn't. You both walk out the bar, the owner wishing a goodnight and a wink and thumbs up at Eddie whilst your eyes are diverted. Once in the air you both inhale deeply, having forgotten what fresh air felt like after inhaling the thick and smoky air of the club.

Despite the road being deserted, Eddie pushes you behind him so he can assess when to cross and then safely guide you over. The walk to the motel is only a matter of steps and you're leading him up the creaking metal stairs to your room. Eddie gulps at his view of your legs in front of him, the backs of soft thighs moving with each step, your short dress fluttering slightly and he tries to divert his attention to the ground out of respect. You fumble with the key and lock then finally heave the door open and bounce on into the room. Eddie lingers in the door frame watching your movements, he's hesitant to make a wrong move. You throw yourself, back first onto the bed and starfish, your eyes and closed with a smile on your face and Eddie thinks this should've been their album cover. He doesn't want to stare at you on the bed too much, so let's his eyes scan round the room. It's endearingly retro, he's never been inside a room here before, only dropping weed off at the door – usually to sad regulars from The Hideout whose wives had thrown them out. His eyes snap back to your figure as you lean over to the bedside drawer. Shit, shit, shit. You're making a move. He doesn't want to just have sex with you, that's not why he's here, I mean he would like to have sex with you but not right now, right now he just wants to bathe in your presence for as long as you'll let him. He's panicking and he's still in the doorway like a creep he thinks and his words tumble out manically,

‘I DON’T WANT TO JUST SLEEP WITH YOU!’

Your bending figure darts back up, your eyes wide and slowly your hand returns out of the drawer revealing your fingers crinkling round packets of snacks. Eddie realises. You'd hidden food there, not condoms unless Cheetos had expanded their offerings. He thumps his head against the door frame, mortified. You realise and feel awful for him, you'd wondered why he was looking so on edge. A laugh falls out of your mouth before you can stop it,

‘Eddie… it's okay. They're just snacks and I invited you here because I didn't think anywhere else was open and… I wanted to just be around you.’

Eddie is thankful he's holding onto the door frame because he fears he'd melt into a puddle. His embarrassment is eclipsed by you admitting to feeling the same as him. He lets himself laugh at the mistake now, it feels like the natural response to your infectious smile. You shuffle over to one side of the bed and pat the empty side for Eddie to join you. You arrange the snacks in the middle as you watch him carefully take off his leather jacket, draping it over a chair and then unlacing his big boots in order to join you.

‘Oh, oops,’ you now realise you've yet to take your boots off as your legs dangle over the edge of the bed, 'I forgot to take mine off too, shit, I hate these fucking zips.’ You're muttering as you battle with the stiff zip that runs up your calf, Eddie swats your angry little hands away.

‘Let me,’ he sweetly smiles. Your voice couldn't muster up a peep even if you wanted to reject his help as he carefully takes your calf, holding it against his hip as his other hand glides up from your ankle to just under your knee where the zip resides. An audible gulp comes from you at his delicate touch, your legs are open, his hands so close to your thighs but his touch is gentle. You struggle to remember a moment shared with a guy that was this intimate and sweet. This, you think, is why you don't want to just fuck him because every time you touch or speak, you know it's so much more than sexual chemistry, it's something you dreamt of but never thought available to you.

Eddie leans over to tug the zip and guide it down your calf, he does it painstakingly slow to savour how your soft skin feels under his rough fingertips. He lets the first boot drop to the floor then moves onto the next leg, once your foot is finally free, you wiggle your toes and grin at him. The way your eyes twinkle at him as you peer up at his hovering figure makes him feel sick like he's eaten too much sweets, your leg is still propped against his hip and his hand is caressing the bare calf. Everything about you is warming and inviting in a way Eddie has never experience before. He cannot help himself as he bends a little further and dots a kiss on your knee. He's not sure why he does it, he just felt drawn to make more contact with you, like your bodies are magnets. There's no second to doubt himself as when he looks up, your hand is reaching out and tucking a curly strand behind his ear and then withdraws, brushing gently against his cheek. You then move your hand to take his, still on your thigh and tug him onto the bed.

The motel bed squeaks as he climbs on, you both get comfortable, lying on your sides, propped up on your elbows to look at each other. You pick at the snacks between you, squishing a marshmallow before popping it in your mouth. Eddie smiles endearingly at your marshmallow filled cheeks all puffed, he squishes them by cupping your face and laughs.

‘Like a cute little hamster.’

You grin and start to chew as you get more out the pocket and shove them into Eddie’s laughing mouth.

‘Don't mock me Edward,’ you chide and he's forced to eat the marshmallows, 'but you can call me cute again.’

Marshmallowy teeth grin at you, ‘Oh, I’ll call you cute as often as you like, sweetheart.’

You're both completely comfortable with each other now in a way no strangers can be unless they were destined to cross paths. His full name doesn't fill him with dread when it falls out of your mouth and his ‘sweetheart’ makes you feel like going by the nickname for the rest of your life. The rest of your life. You don't want to move on with your life right now, scared this is a one off interaction.

‘Eddie…’ you speak hesitantly, 'I have to leave here in like twelve hours but… I don't want to.’

You'd already discussed your lives, both of you living like nomads, travelling where your work told you too so he knows you're here for one night only much to his dismay.

‘I hate Hawkins,’ he admits, 'but I don't want you to leave either… I don't want to see you disappear off and I can't find you.’ You shuffle closer to each other.

'You can find me in Chicago for the next week,’ you smile sadly, ‘where will you be?’

Eddie’s schedule now he's done his press tour is fairly open so he considers what he could be doing in the next week.

'It's ridiculous y’know? I've known you what, like four hours and yet I just wanna say I’ll be wherever you'll be.’

It's a response you hadn't let yourself even dream of, scared of deluding yourself with fairytale romances. You cup his face, letting your thumb brush against his cheek, skimming under his fluttering eyelashes.

'I feel silly too. But I want you to be wherever I am too.’

The rest of the early hours you continue to reveal every part of your lives to the other. Bonding over the strong solo figures who raised you, your mom and Wayne being your anchors. You console each other of the figures who also abandoned you, both of your dads. Nothing feels off limits and it's hard to believe the gentle man in front of you who can sew and create intricate fantasy worlds and practically adopted a band of teenage boys, is the rockstar you'd seen girls fawning over like he was nothing but a hard-knock sexy symbol. Eventually both of your eyes droop and your breathing matches up as you fall asleep. During the night your hands find each other again and intertwined fingers make sure neither of you can slip away for now.

When sunlight seeps through lace curtains and awakes Eddie, he naturally goes to stretch his neck but is quick to realise movement is not possible. Tucked right into his neck, is you. Your face buried in the crook of his jaw and collar, he can feel your gentle breath fanning against his skin as your nose is nestled in his jugular. You hands are gripped to Eddie’s and he lets his fingers stroke your knuckles. A sense of pride fills him that you'd unconsciously sought out him for comfort in the night, your touch and relaxed nature around him feels more rewarding than selling out his hometown last night. He's unable to resist letting his mouth and nose rest on the crown of your head. Your soft hair smells of your perfume mixed with his cigarettes. Gently he lets himself kiss your head and then allows himself to be greedy and dot a couple more but clearly he was overzealous as you begin to stir.

Blinking sleep away, you open your eyes only to find your eye line is obstructed by the view of Eddie’s bobbing Adam's apple. For a moment you worry, a panic sets in telling you this how plenty of girls wake up with him only to never see him again but the panic is melted away by a tender kiss on your head. No, you remind yourself, this is not how normal one night stands go, for one they usually involve sex. Your night had consisted of longing stolen touches, confessions and life stories. This was more and you smile into Eddie’s neck.

‘Morning Ed,’ your sleepy voice groans. The nickname makes his heart swell and in response he clutches you tighter.

'Morning sweetheart, sleep well?’

Even though you hadn't actually slept that many hours due to your late night, it was still the best sleep you'd had in a long time. The first time you hadn't felt lonely, Eddie's presence comforting you in a way few ever had. You bury yourself further into his warm skin that smells like cigarettes and cinnamon and a natural Eddie-ness.

'Really well,’ you confess, 'I think you helped.’

Eddie lifts your chin so he can look at you properly, your eyes are soft and sleepy, mascara a little smudged but your cheeks are pink and you're the best view he's ever seen in a morning.

‘Oh thanks, did I bore you to sleep?’ He chuckles as he pokes your cheek. You're too sleepy still for sarcasm and you like him too much to let him worry, you can hear a slight self doubt in his voice.

‘Noo,’ you pout, 'just you. Comfy and warm. Help me settle. Wish you could be in my bed always. Sleep a lot better then.’

His hands brush your hair out of your face, he wants to remember this sleepy loving look you give him.

‘I couldn't say no, if you asked me to stay in your bed always.’

After allowing yourselves a little longer in each other's embrace, Eddie suggests getting breakfast at the café next door. You stuff your feet into some trainers as he laces his boot and as you leave the motel, you feel Eddie drape his leather jacket over your shoulders. You snuggle into it, letting his smell take you over, you have nothing to offer in return except your hand. So you hold his and they fit together naturally. You both enjoy the feeling of the others fingers stroking as you walk over to get food.

Over platefuls of greasy food, Eddie watches as you plot your journey from Hawkins to Chicago. The red dotted lines you mark just highlighting the distance that will be between you. Your nose and eyebrows are scrunched in concentration as you analyse routes as you chew syrupy waffles. Eddie wishes he could kiss off the syrup that lingers on the corner of your mouth but doesn't want it to be the first time he finally kisses you. He's been thinking about it since he saw you but didn't want to stop the chat between you.

‘Here!’ You jab at the map, 'that's where I'm staying in Chicago.’

Eddie swivels the map round so he can look. Corroded Coffin had visited a few times now, he recognises the area and lets his eyes seek out what he hopes is there. His finger jabs this time,

‘There! That's a good venue. We played before. It's just round the corner from you… maybe Corroded Coffin can play an impromptu gig next week with absolutely no ulterior motive.’ You laugh and take back your map but when you look up at Eddie, his face is completely sincere.

'Are you serious?’ You question.

'Deadly,’ Eddie nods, 'I… I don't want to just let you disappear. I can't explain it just yet but y’know, Y/N, this isn't normal right? I don't just feel like this around people I've known less than twenty four hours, do you?’

You shake your head, ‘No, Eddie, I don't. It's just you. I really want to see you again. Shit, I was panicking all night that this was a one off, worried I'd just never seen you again except on tv.’

He sighs a breath of relief, 'thank fuck, sweetheart. I was doing the same, was ready to pay The Hideout owner to lock us in.’

You laugh and throw an strawberry his way, he picks it up and munches grinning. Yeah, he thinks, wherever this girl goes I’m going to follow her.

Eddie loads your car as you check out, you'd forewarned him about the potential squealing receptionist who would ask a thousand questions and he thought it was best to avoid. When you meet him back at the car he opens the door for you but you can't bring yourself to be separated yet. Instinctively you both wrap your arms around each other and hug, clinging to the comfort you had now found and didn't want to let go of.

'There's a real nice restaurant near your hotel too, Y/N. Gonna let me take you on a first date, sweetheart?’

You smile into his chest, 'sleepover and the first date? I think we did it all wrong.’

His hands brushing through your hair now you look face to face he smirks, ' I think whatever we'd been doing before yesterday was wrong and this is all right.’

Once you're in the car you realise you still have on his leather jacket and you go to shrug it off but Eddie’s hand comes through the window to stop you.

‘Keep it, for now. Now you know I’ll definitely come to you because if anything, I’ll need that back.’ You grin at each other and you peck his hand gently like he did your knee last night. You hope next time you see him, you'll manage the lips, Eddie is thinking the same thing. As the car stirs into life and you drive off, neither of you look away from your view of the other until you disappear completely behind those lurking Hawkin’s trees.

‘And yeah,’ you laugh ‘he kept his promise. A surprise Corroded Coffin gig happened in Chicago the next week.’

Eddie kisses your cheek, ‘hell yeah, to this day I don't think I ever wanted to play a gig so bad. But yup, got my jacket,’ Eddie tugs at the leather jacket he now wears, 'and got the love of my life.’ The interviewer can't help but feel a little choked up and in awe of your story. They watch as you and Eddie gaze adoringly at each other, it's not a state you tend to see rockstars in but it seems Eddie Munson breaks the toxic stereotypes built up by decades of a male dominated music industry. Your love story feels too personal for them to actually report, the interviewer just feels lucky to have been privy to such a beautiful story and they decide to keep it that way.

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