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colleendoran · 3 months

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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

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jadedxhearts · 3 months

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𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

Law finds himself craving your touch, slowly becoming desperate for you. His issue though? He’s a virgin.

Warnings: smut, fem reader, loss of virginity. Also keep in mind I’m even more of a virgin than Law so I hope I wrote this a little realistically.

Originally posted on March 22nd, 2023

repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.

Late in the evening, with only a dim light to illuminate his work space, Law sat at his desk, desperately trying to focus on his work; a task that was proving to be more difficult by the minute.

He’d been doing some research since dinner time, and at first the hours flew by with nothing to distract him. But then you stopped by, gently opening the metal door to his office and peeking your head in, smiling at him lovingly. “Law? You gonna be done soon?”

Law shrugged, trying not to directly make eye contact with you. Tonight (really, for the last few days) he’d been feeling rather nervous around you, and every time he looked at you and heard your soft voice he’d feel a blush rise to his cheeks. “Hopefully,” he muttered as a final response.

A pout spread across your face, “okay… I’ll be waiting in bed, then.”

When you finally left and he heard the door lock back in place, Law let out a heavy breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding in.

Deep down, Law knew what he was feeling. It was hard for him to admit it, even to himself. That, let alone his relationship with you, was all new to him. You’d been the first person to smile at him with pure love in your eyes, the first person he’d truly opened up to. With the many months that had gone by since he finally gave in and asked you out, he’d grown used to this whole “love” thing.

But this new feeling was something he wasn’t used to, and he wasn’t sure if he could be used to it…

It started a couple nights ago when it had been extremely hot during the evening. Law had taken his hoodie off, opting to walk around shirtless due to the excess heat. It was a natural solution when fans did nothing. But he didn’t expect what you’d done to cool off.

When he returned to his room to try and sleep, he found you, awake on the bed. Not that this was unusual; but he was shocked to find you stripped down to a lace bra and panty set, laying with all the blankets kicked off the bed. It was clearly due to the heat, of course; but Law felt a bit differently upon seeing you.

You’d perked your head up when he stepped inside, and called his name for what felt like hours as he stood there completely stunned. It was only when you’d approached him that he snapped out of the daze, only to be placed in another one.

You had put your soft hands on him, holding his head between them. With the close proximity from that, you were chest to chest with him. Law recalled feeling like he was about to explode when you’d leaned up to kiss him, pushing your nearly bare breasts into his exposed, tattooed chest.

Ever since then, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind. The image of your plushy breasts squished against him, the way the lace of your bra was nearly see-through, giving him a nearly clear image of them fully exposed.

To make matters worse, Law noticed the aching between his legs, the way his jeans suddenly felt a bit too constricting. He’d never felt such desire, forgetting entirely about his work as he wondered what you’d feel like around him, what noises you’d make; his mind kept jumping to many different scenarios of what it would be like to do it with you, embarrassing himself as he couldn’t control the thoughts. But, he really had no clue of what to expect, so it was actually a bit hard for him to imagine it.

The thought finally filled his mind; you made him feel good. So he needed to make you feel good in return. Only… he needed to learn how.

Cursing at himself for being a fool, Law stalked down to the library to find autonomy books. He felt horrified at himself, like he was acting perverted as he tried to wrap his mind around how female bodies worked when it came to sex. Just the drawing of a diagram was making him even more nervous.

‘I can’t hurt her, so it’s not wrong for me to be looking at this…’

Law had a hard time convincing himself of that, though. After another moment, the ache of his hardened cock became too much for him to handle, so he clenched his eyes shut and slammed the book closed.

“Shit,” he cursed, shoving it back into the deepest corner of the bookcase, hidden away from his sight. ‘You’re such a fucking creep… she’s gonna laugh at you for doing this…’

—

You’d been laying in bed, just as you’d told Law earlier. You had some random book you’d found in the library, reading it and trying to keep yourself awake until Law came to bed; which had actually been kind of hard as the book’s plot simply sucked to you, boring you to the point of wanting to sleep instead.

It hadn’t been that long since you’d checked in on him. Knowing Law, you probably had another good hour or so before he’d join you. Perhaps you should just give up and go to sleep…

But to your surprise, the metal door to the room swung open and your boyfriend stumbled into his room, face red and almost sweaty as he tore his hat off, revealing a mop of messy black hair.

“Law? Are you okay?” You asked, surprise evident in your tone.

He wasn’t facing you, but from the way his back seemed so tense, you knew something was bothering him; if the way he rushed into the room wasn’t a dead giveaway.

With a few huffs, Law finally breathed in deeply and exhaled, opening his mouth to speak.

But… how was he supposed to explain himself?

“Law,” you called again, “what’s up, baby? It’s rather early for you to be-“

“Y/n-ya… I need… your help,” he sighed.

“Help?” You raised an eyebrow, confused. “With what?”

“Um,” he stuttered, trying to find the right words. But no matter what he thought of, everything sounded too awkward and made him inwardly cringe at himself.

But to his horror, he saw you get out of bed from the corner of his eye as you started walking over to him. If you even saw his front side… it would all be over. You’d know.

Feeling your hand on his shoulder, he tensed up further, biting onto his lower lip.

“Law, just tell me what it is,” you pleaded, “I won’t judge.”

He so badly wanted to tell you, but he just didn’t know how. Law knew it was a natural thing to feel, and yet he was so embarrassed about it. But then your other hand grabbed his other arm, and began tugging on him so that he’d face you. After that, he figured you’d just be able to figure it out on your own.

When he was fully turned toward you, you looked him over, concern written in your eyes. “Law, baby, it’s oka-“ your eyes widened for a second, and you desperately tried to hide the shock on your face. But your cheeks grew warm, and you felt terrible because you knew how embarrassed he already was…

“I- I didn’t know how to-“ he stammered, face burning with shame as he tried to look everywhere but at you.

“Um…” you squeaked out, trying to regain your composure. “Do you… need help with that?”

Law could only nod, fearing he’d make everything worse if he tried speaking again.

You let out a breath and took his hand, leading him to the bed the two of you had been sharing for a few months now. Whereas that never bothered him or seemed suspicious to him before, Law felt like it was completely different now.

You sat him down at the edge, fingers playing with the fabric of his hoodie. “Do you want me to take it off?” You offered.

Law awkwardly nodded, his tattooed hands gripping at the sheets beneath him. And you hadn’t even done anything yet. The simple thought of you undressing him had him burning up on the inside.

Pulling his hoodie over his head and off his arms was probably going to be the easiest part. You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times before, so that wasn’t a shock to either of you. But it felt much more intimate now.

“Then I guess… um,” you began to pull off the t-shirt you’d worn to bed, only to be stopped by Law, his hand lunging to grab your wrist before he stared with wide eyes, realizing he looked like an idiot. But he had to explain himself now.

“I… want to… do it,” he shyly said, his head hanging low, not wanting you to see how incredibly red his face was. But you knew by the way the tips of his ears flushed.

“Okay,” you said, letting go of your shirt and letting Law take over.

With shaking hands, he tugged on the fabric and slowly slipped it over your shoulders and off of you, awkwardly tossing the shirt to the side once it was off.

Underneath was the same lace bra from a few nights ago. Law felt his breath shuddering as he looked over your form, completely frozen now. You were so beautiful that you could have anyone you wanted to, and yet here you were with the biggest virgin in the entire ocean.

“So then… I guess my shorts are next,” you bit your lip, nervously anticipating feeling Law’s hands on you again.

Feeling like he was going to die from a mix of nervousness and embarrassment, Law pulled at the strings and untied the knot that kept the shorts pulled up on you. They hung loose for a second before he started sliding them down your legs, and Law’s face was somehow burning even more than it had been before.

He knew what was next; his jeans. But despite already getting so far, Law was terrified for you to see him so vulnerable. How would you react? He knew you weren’t the most experienced person either, but you at least knew some things…

“You’re gonna have to stand up… I can’t get them off with you sitting,” you told him.

“…right,” Law stood up from the bed, arms hanging at his sides, waiting for you to undress him. His heart beat louder and faster than it ever had before as you reached for his pants.

You carefully unbuttoned his jeans, sliding the zipper all the way down before removing the clothing from him, leaving Law in only his undergarments now.

But that didn’t really do him much justice, as you could now fully see how hard he was through the thin fabric. He felt so pathetic, all because of your gaze and touch.

Looking him over, you tossed Law’s jeans to the side before climbing onto the bed. “I-I can go first, if you want,” you offered with a nervous stutter to your tone.

“Yeah, if you’re comfortable,” Law mumbled, looking away from you.

He still felt like a creep now, even with you consenting. But you were simply gorgeous, and Law found himself fighting to control his thoughts, feeling like he was going feral over what you’d do to him tonight.

Nodding, you pushed the pillows up so you could sit up against them, leaning your back into them and folding your legs up so your knees met, keeping your feet on the bed.

“Law, um… I have to tell you something,” you suddenly spoke, looking away from him.

Law stared worriedly, afraid you’d say something about how weird he was. That a virgin like him didn’t deserve to please you.

“I… I’ve never done this before. S-so, please be, um… gentle,” you whispered.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Law felt better knowing you wouldn’t be judging him for being so shy and awkward. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, leaning over you to kiss your flushed cheek, “tell me to stop if you don’t wanna keep going at any point, okay?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, slowly moving your legs apart to reveal your still covered pussy to him.

Law found himself unsure of what to do next, though. All he could do was stare at it, wondering if he was supposed to take your panties off or if you’d do it for him.

“You can… take them off,” you instructed, crossing your arms in an almost defensive way, just barely covering your mouth with your right hand.

After taking a moment to work up the courage he needed, Law hooked his tattooed fingers underneath the lace on each side of your hips, pulling the fabric away from you, inching them down your legs as you lightly gasped from the cool air suddenly on your lower regions.

You raised your feet to let Law pull your panties off, but ended up crossing your legs again as he fully removed the clothing. Law looked down at you, thinking how the way you blushed was rather cute.

“Y/n, we can’t both be shy… we’ll get nothing done,” he muttered, placing tattooed hands on your soft thighs. Law wasn’t even sure where he found the small strike of confidence, as he gently pushed your legs apart.

Feeling scared, you watched his every move and paid close attention to Law’s face as he examined you. You had to keep reminding yourself that he was a doctor, so he’d probably be less likely to hurt you… right? He’d understand your body better than any other man.

“You’re so… pretty,” Law bashfully admitted, moving his right hand away from your thigh to run a finger along your folds.

You squirmed at the contact, feeling like an embarrassed mess from the touch of his finger and the praise.

With his index and middle finger, Law pushed your folds apart and looked over your fully exposed cunt. “If it helps… I at least tried to study female autonomy, so,” Law just barely dipped his two fingers into you, swiping up your wetness. “I know it needs to be really wet before I… you know…”

You nodded, gasping every time his fingers moved. Until he suddenly rolled them over your bundle of nerves, and you unintentionally let out a soft moan.

Law froze for the millionth time at the sound of your sudden vocalization, looking up to your face to make sure it was a noise of pleasure.

“Do th-that again,” you whined, biting down hard into your lip.

Law looked down to your cunt, rubbing his fingers against your clit again before looking back up to your face to see your reaction.

“Oh,” you moaned, accidentally raising your hips into his touch. “Mmm, Law… please…”

He repeated the motion, and you let out another pretty noise, slapping your hand over your mouth to try and prevent any more noises from slipping out.

“I want to hear you,” Law told you, his voice becoming more demanding and dominant than he intended. He hadn’t meant to sound that way, but he figured he’d done something right when you tilted your head back in pleasure at his words.

You so badly wanted to submit to him, desperate for Law to make you feel good.

Pushing your hips into his fingers again, you obeyed Law and let a whine fall from your lips. “Law, ohh- just fuck me already…” you begged.

He removed his hand from your cunt, juices being pulled along with him before he pulled away too far and the strings of it were gone. The sight had been so lewd, Law found himself wanting to do it over and over again, just to see the way your wetness would spread across his fingers. But he decided to ignore that desire for tonight.

You sat up to balance yourself on shaky knees, crawling out of the way so Law could take your spot and lay back.

Law closed his eyes as you reached over to pull the last of his clothing away, his hands grasping against the sheets to get a hold on himself.

With gentle hands, you freed his hard, aching cock, hesitantly wrapping a hand around it as you threw his clothing away with the other.

When your palm closed around him, Law suddenly felt himself losing control, bucking up into your fist.

“Shit,” he hissed, “…feels good.”

Holding him in your hand, you looked him over, deciding he was rather… big. You had no experience or knowledge of what was normal, but you did know that you would have a hard time fitting him inside you.

You gave Law a few more pumps, feeling more embarrassed as you felt your cunt throb, extremely turned on by the sight of Law completely exposed and the way he acted so desperate for you. Even with your fear of him being too big, you desperately wanted him inside you.

Your hand squeezed along his shaft as you jerked him, watching in awe as your normally stoic and intimidating captain completely submitted to you, becoming a mess in your hands. Law cursed and let out a few short whines as you kept going, and before you could even stop yourself, he suddenly thrusted up into your hand, hot sticky cum spurting out from him and onto your closed hand.

Law panted as you let go of him, staring down at your hand, wondering what you were even supposed to do with it now…

You looked between Law and your cum-covered hand, watching him try to recompose himself.

While a part of you hated the idea, the urge got the better of you as you smirked down at him, slowly raising your hand to your lips.

Law watched with wide eyes, but never made any moves to stop you. Opening your lips, you let your tongue hang out for a second before licking a stripe up the back of your hand, collecting his seed along your tongue and keeping your mouth open for a little too long so he’d get a good look. With a bit of hesitation, you swallowed it. You supposed the taste wasn’t as awful as any of your friends had described.

You didn’t miss the way Law’s cock seemed to twitch as he watched you lick up all the cum from your hand, until nothing but your own saliva was left.

“Fuck, y/n-ya,” he groaned, “do that again and I’m gonna cum untouched.”

You giggled, before looking back down at his still hardened member. And the question came back to you; how were you going to fit him?

Before you could try and come up with anything, Law got onto his knees and flipped you over to swap positions with him. Laying on your back now, you let your legs hang open for him.

Gently, Law dipped a finger into you, followed by another to scissor within you. You watched as the E and A slipped into your sopping wet cunt, moaning as he fingered you and just barely stretched you for him. A small glimpse at what was to come next.

“It’s probably going to hurt at first,” Law warned you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “But we’ll go at your pace.”

You nodded, feeling his fingers slip out of you.

All you could do was watch as he took his cock into his hand, his body slowly hovering over yours as he got himself close enough to be able to get inside you. You gasped when he rubbed his tip along your folds, gathering your slick up and covering his cock with it.

“You ready?” Law asked, leaning on his elbow which sat beside you, trapping you underneath him.

You put one hand into his mess of raven locks, the other grabbing along his arm before finding a good spot to grip onto. And then you nodded, preparing yourself for the worst.

“Take a deep breath in for me, baby,” he instructed, ever so slightly pushing the tip of his cock into you.

You did as Law told you, inhaling deeply and holding your breath, waiting for him to push into you.

He began pushing into you, his hand trembling as he held himself, terrified at the thought of going in too fast and hurting you.

With only an inch in, you began squirming and digging your nails into the skin on his arm.

Going at a slow pace and being as gentle as he possibly could, Law began to put the rest of himself into your cunt.

He wasn’t even fully inside when he unclenched his eyes to look at your face, realizing that you were crying. Panicking, Law let go of himself to cradle your face in his right hand, wiping away tears with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, y/n-ya, I tried so hard not to hurt you,” he choked up, feeling terrible about it. “We can stop if you want.”

Hearing the panic in his voice, you finally exhaled and shook your head, “n-no, it’s okay… ‘s not your fault, Law.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for guidance on what to do next.

“Mhm, it just… stings,” you muttered through clenched teeth. “Keep going...”

Law took a deep breath himself, placing his hand back around the bottom half of his cock as he slowly began pushing in again.

After a moment of you whimpering and more squirming, you finally calmed yourself down as Law bottomed out, fully sheathed inside of you now.

His now free hand found a spot on your hip, gripping at your soft skin as he panted, getting used to the feeling of you; the ridges along the walls of your cunt rubbing against the skin of his cock, the way your cunt spasmed around him, you involuntarily clenching down on him, squeezing the life out of his cock.

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, burying his face into your neck, goatee brushing along your skin. “You’re so… tight.”

Your hands left their previous positions to fully wrap your arms around him, desperately holding onto his tattooed back.

“It’s too big,” you sobbed, gasping for air. “It h-hurts, Law.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your neck, “just… try to relax, I won’t move until you want me to.”

Pushing through the pain of the extreme stretch, you tried relaxing all the muscles in the lower half of your body, getting used to the feeling of what felt like Law’s cock splitting you in two.

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed since he filled you, but it felt like hours to you, like seconds were moving much too slow for your liking. Realistically, it had probably been close to five minutes of Law laying on top of you, the both of you panting as you slowly stopped crying, your skin soaking up the tears staining your face.

And after another moment, you decided you were ready. “Law… you can move n-now.”

“Are you certain, y/n-ya?”

He sounded scared. And almost guilty, like he’d somehow fucked up. But really, he’d been absolutely perfect to you, being gentle and taking care of you. Now you felt bad, not wanting him to feel like he’d done something awful.

“Y-yeah. And Law… you’re perfect, baby. I trust you.”

With the last word slipping past your lips, you moved your head to connect them with his own, locking your lips together and not pulling apart as Law pulled his hips back, and slowly pushed in again.

It was a few more minutes of this before you had fully become used to the stretch and movement within you.

“You can go faster, Law,” you whispered, head lulling beside his own as you quietly moaned right into his ear.

Law raised his hips just a bit, pulling you up with him as he found a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you, movements still careful.

With more and more time, you started to like the feeling of his cock stretching your walls, the feeling of him being fully inserted inside. The slight amount of pain along with the growing pleasure felt better than anything you’d ever tried with your own fingers. You needed more.

“Faster, please,” you whined, starting to raise your hips in time with Law’s, meeting each of his thrusts into you. “Fuck, harder, Law!”

Law’s breathing grew louder as he moved faster, somewhat carefully slamming his cock into you with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Y/n-ya…”

The way he moaned your name only made how turned on you were increase, your cunt clenching with pleasure as you listened to him, along with feeling the way he fucked into you so perfectly.

Your moans grew louder, to a point Law made a comment about not wanting the rest of the crew to hear. You tried quieting down, but it felt impossible with how good he was fucking you. All you could do was bite into his shoulder, but even then you were still groaning through it.

Law felt himself starting to lose control, his hips moving at an ungodly speed without a care about how hard he was fucking into you,

his entire body shaking as he worked himself up to the point of orgasming again. He pulled his upper body away from you to look down at you, fully taking in the lewd sight for the first time. The way his aching cock disappeared into your hole, juices spilling out from you and onto the sheets underneath you, mixing in with the hint of blood from when he’d first slid into you.

Something about how he was the one to do this to you; take away any purity left in you. And you’d done the same to him.

He needed more though, something to throw him over the edge. Glancing over your body, he decided he needed to see your breasts bare, and so he reached down around you and unhooked it, pulling it off your sweaty body.

Holding onto your hips, Law continued abusing your cunt, slamming in and out of you, mesmerized by the way your breasts would bounce with every movement he made.

And that was all he needed, as he suddenly cursed loudly and came hard, his hot seed spilling out from his cock and into your sore cunt.

The feeling of being filled up with such warmth was what sent you over, your pussy spasming even more as you moaned loudly, cumming around his cock, your cunt tightening as if to milk everything he had out of him.

The both of you slowed down, Law pulling out of you to watch his cum rise up to your hole, spilling out of you and onto your thighs and the ruined bedsheets.

And then he collapsed on top of you, completely exhausted. With tangled, sweaty bodies, you both panted and caught your breath before you wrapped your arms around him again, kissing him deeply and passionately.

You didn’t want the moment to end, but eventually Law got up and retreated to the bathroom, getting a warmly wet cloth to clean you up.

He wiped any remaining fluids off of your pussy, being extra careful not to accidentally overstimulate you. Law then lifted you up, carrying your limp body over to the chair at his smaller desk meant for those really late nights where you still wanted him nearby while you slept.

With heavy eyes, you watched as Law stripped off the bed sheets and cleaned everything up, preparing it so that you could sleep comfortably.

By the time he was finished, you’d succumbed to your tiredness, falling asleep in the chair. Law picked your still nude body up, bringing you over to the clean bed, gently placing you down onto the plush, soft pillows before laying next to you, kissing and wrapping his arms around you as you slept peacefully.

And though you couldn’t hear him, he decided to say it anyway;

“Thank you, y/n… I love you, my pretty girl.”

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law x reader smut #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #one piece law x reader #one piece x reader

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bettyfrommars · 4 months

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Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

Eddie x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.

my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.

A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

word count: 6.3k

The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat. From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain. The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache.

You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play. You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs. You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.

You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again. Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.

Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open. It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.

You pulled your headphones down around your neck. “Sorry?”

“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life. “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”

You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people. You were the walking wounded.

“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.

It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright. Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate.

You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town. Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.

“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees. A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing. “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”

You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled. You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck. He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.

You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.

Besides reading. And taking long walks with music to clear your head. Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.

From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous. Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants. A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water. Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet.

Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside. The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books. Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint. He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.

After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right. You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.

The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.

Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes. It sat there close to the curb, idling. You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile. Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket. Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.

Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it. They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.

“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk. A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.

The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand. “Hey Joyce, I was just—”

Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm. She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family. While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.

“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”

“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”

Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”

Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.

Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell. The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month.

“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can. They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational. She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.

“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.

They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits. There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.

Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.

The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.

You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot. Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.

The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.

“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself. “You okay?”

Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”

She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit. “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”

“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.

When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.

“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”

“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”

Robin winked. “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.

Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.

“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”

“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”

By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room. “I’m going to look around the main house.”

Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen. “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”

You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.

With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts. You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest. Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling. Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.

Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building. It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel.

You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.

They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other, so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.

One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.

“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face. “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”

You realized that it was your dad he was talking about.

Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot. Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.

“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said. “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”

But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.

The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.

Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl. You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Was that his girlfriend?

He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him. “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually. You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one. “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve. They’re the other musicians I told you about.”

Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear. He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.

“Hey, there the fuck you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”

Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building. You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.

Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way. The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed. While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.

“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”

“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit. “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”

Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself. His name was Eddie.

Jason put his hands up in mock surrender. “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour. There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”

You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.

So that you could see Eddie’s face.

Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe. “I gotta run. See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets. He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way. Jason shot him an evil look.

“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.

“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.

The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.

When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along.

Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.

“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face.

Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks. Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.

When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again. With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog.

You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—----

Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation. There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party. She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier. The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.

Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.

“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.

Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.

“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.

Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true. But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.

“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink. “This place will all be mine one day.”

Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.

“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.

If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table.

Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours. “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”

Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it.

In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.

An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.

—-------

Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself. He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.

You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest. He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.

You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him. You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.

You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare.

On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property.

Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.

And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.

"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music. It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.

"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it. His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.

Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests. Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing. The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there.

At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another. While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.

Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.

Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.

The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.

“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”

You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.

“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”

The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier. He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.

“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.

The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage.

I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away

I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot. You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.

He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.

They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.

He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.

All my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.

Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie. Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.

"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."

In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."

Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”

—--

It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”

The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most.

In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter. You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.

It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished. Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.

As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point

And that made you want to venture in even more.

You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going. The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.

You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence.

Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.

(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)

It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead. Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.

“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”

Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.

She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.

“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.

She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground. You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.

“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.

“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed. “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”

Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees. “What is that place?”

“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”

Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped. But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”

Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”

You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms.

“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”

----

Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.

Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.

as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️

------

taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082

#Dirty Metal Summer #dirty dancing au #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things fic #Steve Harrington #robin buckley

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urfavlarry · 2 months

Note

Hi, I love your Husk work as an overlord. Could I please request a husker x reader when he lost the game to Alastor. Short time after Reader becomes the Cashio Overlord that runs on the cashios that once owned by Husker. One day, the reader came by to see Husk at the hotel. Please and thank you

A/N: im not sure if i understood this well but i hope i wrote it well enough for you to enjoy! also sorry it took so long for me to write i was a bit busy but here it is<33 (and also reader doesn’t know about Husk at first :3 )

warnings: swearing,alcohol,bad grammar,mentions of death and bl00d

genre: angst??? and some fluff

——————————Flashback ——————————

You walk to your local bar, you and some guy you met online through a dating app were supposed to meet up there and get to know each other more. You liked the guy, he was nice and showed genuine interest in you, something guys didn’t really do that often. You put effort in dressing up today, wearing your best pair of clothes you had and fixing up your hair and just make yourself over all look presentable. “This guy better not ditch me.” You tell yourself as you look at the time; 7:02pm. You were supposed to meet up at 7 and he was late. “Not the best first impression.” You sigh when you suddenly hear someone yelling your name.

“Y/N! Hey it’s me the guy you have been talking to for the past few months? I’m so sorry I was stuck in traffic and I would’ve called but I just didn’t really think about it in that moment.” He says rubbing his neck nervously and smiles awkwardly. You smile at him and chuckle; “Don’t worry about it! Now let’s go have some fun!” You say excitedly and pull him to the bar.

The bar was fairly crowded, something you were expecting since it’s a pretty popular one at that. You order some drinks and take a seat in the corner of a bar. It was loud but you still managed to talk and drink the night away! You drank a bit too much that night and your head started to pound and the last thing you remembered was getting pulled into an alley by the guy and a sharp pain in your chest and blood on your hands.

————————End of Flashback ————————

After you fell down to hell you quickly realized your situation and tried your best to not get in anyones way. You kept a low profile and kept your guard up just in case. You come across a casino, an abandoned one at that. You go inside and look at yourself in one of the broken mirrors on the floor. You had poker card symbols under your eyes and on your fingers. Your eyes widen at the sight, you were still wearing the same thing from last night it’s just that you have a big X on your chest. “That motherfucker killed me.” You say in disbelief, anger slowly bubbling up in you.

That day you went on a rampage. Finding an abandoned angelic spear somewhere in the bar and went fucking nuts. You swore you killed at least a good 250 demons and you kinda discovered some powers. “Cool.” You said and smirked. People had been recording you and posting about you online, calling you the “Soul gambler”, whatever that means. You slowly learned you killed 2 overlords during your little rampage and they weren’t even some random overlords, they were “heavy hitters” as people liked to call them. People started to fear you, making out the events that happened into something 10x worse. People didn’t bother looking your way anymore, wanting to light themselves on fire rather than to look at you.

You renewed the casinos around hell and gained massive amount of territory. People would visit the casinos frequently, it sort of reminded you of the casino from back when you were alive. Many people applied for the job since almost all of the jobs were taken because of hells overpopulation problem. Some old workers that worked at the casino before you renewed them and claimed them as your own started coming in, you hiring them of course since they had experience. You quickly learned there was an Overlord similar to you a few years ago. Unfortunately he lost his power and you learned from a commercial that he is now working at a hotel, Hazbin Hotel to be exact.

You decided to go and visit the hotel one day, wanting to have a chat with the old Overlord. You make yourself look presentable, wanting to look your best since you have a reputation to uphold. You walk to the hotel, people walking by screaming or just run into near by building, “Charming.” You think sarcastically and keep walking to the hotel.

You get to the hotel and look up at it, taking in its looks. It didn’t look half bad but it could use some renovation. You walk up the hill and brush yourself off one last time and knock on the big doors. There was silence for a few minutes then you heard commotion and a quiet “coming” from behind the closed doors. You wait patiently and hear the door open, seeing the one and only princess of hell. You go to speak but the door shuts right in your face; “Well that was.. something?” You think to yourself raising a brow in the process. The door opens once again, but this time by the radio demon himself, a fellow Overlord you quite liked. He didn’t try bothering you at all since you arrived in hell a few years ago and you appreciated that. “Salutations dear! It’s a pleasure finally meeting you! Quite a pleasure! Come on now, don’t just stand there. Come in!” He says stepping aside to let you in. You smile softly at him and thank him, walking into the lobby of the hotel when you suddenly stop dead in your tracks because a spear is suddenly pointed in your face. You smile, summoning your own spear and point it to the girls neck; “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. I’m not an Overlord for nothing.” The girl mumbles something in spanish and walks away, putting her spear away. You sigh and look at the princess of hell. “Well if you guys finished trying to assassinate me, let me introduce myself.” You say and look at everyone’s expressions. You smirk and continue; “My name is Y/N, maybe you know me by “Soul gambler” ,I mean uh whatever that means.” You shrug and hear a slight chuckle from Alastor and a pink spider demon, you believe his name was Angel Dust, a porn star from Valentinos studio. Poor guy was probably tricked into signing a contract with him.

“Well, I came here to ask about an Overlord that was similair to me. He owned the casinos I now own and I heard he was residing here now?” You say calmly, hoping you can to the right place. You hear slight radio static increase but choose to ignore it. Charlie shrugs, saying she doesn’t know of any Overlord being here other than Alastor, but that she hopes you will stay for a bit to see what the hotel is like. You nod in agreement and walk to the spider fellow since he was the only one that looked approachable. You talk for a bit when he suddenly says; “So um I kinda know something about the Overlord you’re looking for.” He says grabbing your full attention.

“The Overlord you’re talking about, it’s that bartender over there. You can try talking to him but I won’t guarantee that he won’t push you away.” He says lowering his tone and grabs you back the shoulder to bring you closer. You nod looking over to the bar where a grumpy cat demon sat, drinking some cheap booze. Angel pushes you towards him, giving you a thumbs up before walking away. You glare slightly but take a deep breath and walk towards the bar. His ears perk up at the sudden footsteps and looks your way, sending you slight glare; “If you’re here to make deals with me you can turn right back around and leave me the hell alone.” He says in an annoyed tone and turns around, his back facing you. You look at him and glare slightly; “What is it with you people and interrupting me all of the time? Like jeez let me fucking speak!” You say rolling your eyes and continue; “I don’t know what shit you hears about me but I can assure you that I didn’t come here to make a deal with you. I just want to talk.” You say sighing, hoping for an answer from the cat demon.

“Whatever let’s just get this over with, what is it?” He says rolling his eyes. You look around and say in a hushed tone; “Do you happen to know anything about the old Overlord that used to own the casinos I own now?” You say and hope you get the truth out of the grumpy ass cat. He looks back at you and curses Angel under his breath, an angered look on his face; “Cut the shit I know you know it was me. What do you want?” He says going closer to the counter where you were sitting opposite to him. You sigh; “I don’t want to cause any harm, really just a friendly chat. Share experiences you know? Since we’re both kind of similar..?” He looks back at you in disbelief and contemplates what to say. He sighs and pulls out two shot glasses, pouring you one and nods for you to continue. “Sooo..” “Husk. The name is Husk.” You smile, asking away and share your experience as on overlord with him. He asks some questions himself, wondering how the casino is doing or if anyone decided to come back there to work. You chat for the rest of the day, others looking at you in awe as they’ve never seen Husk open up to anyone.

After a while you get a bit drunk, talking the poor cat’s ear off. He smiles, listening to your stories, commenting on them here and there. After a bit you decide you had enough for the day and that you should get home. Charlie quickly offered you a room for the night, free of charge so you gladly accepted. “Husk go ahead and show them to their room please? I have something important to do!” Charlie yells before running off to who knows where.

Husk sighs but links your arms and walks you to your room. “Don’t forget to drink some water.. You know so you don’t throw up in the morning.” He says and walks off to his own room. You look at his figure disappearing in the dark of the hallway and enter your room. It was spacious and really nice for a hotel in hell.

You lay down in the bed, kicking your shoes off and hum in satisfaction, falling asleep just after a few seconds of resting on the comfortable bed. The next day you wake up, a slight headache but nothing pain killers couldn’t fix. You stretch and go to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and take a quick shower. You saw a new pair of clothes in the bathroom and a little note left by Charlie. You smile and take the clothes, putting them on. It wasn’t anything fancy but you liked it. You put on your shoes and fold your dirty clothes neatly on the bed and decide to head down to the lobby. It was around 9:30 ish when you went out so you hoped someone was awake. You head down and to your surprise see that everyone is awake. “Good morning sleepy head! You sure slept for quite some time!” Alastor chirped and grins at you, waving for you to come over.

You sit down next to Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie making breakfast. “So I saw you talking to Husk last night~” He smirks slightly. You roll your eyes knowing Alastor and Rosie like to gossip, usually during the meeting Carmilla holds once in a while. “Yeah? It was just a friendly chat. Sinner to sinner.” You shrug and sip on the coffe Charlie brought with the breakfast. Alastor raises a brow but shrugs and walks off.

You see the car demon from afar. Already sitting at the counter and drinking booze. You smirk and walk over with your coffee in hand and sit down at the bar; “Ain’t it a bit too soon for you to be drinking?” You tease and eye him and the booze in his hand. He chuckles lowly and smirks; “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic darling, it’s just the way it is.” He says and shrugs his shoulders, taking another swing of his booze. “Sleep well? You seemed pretty drunk last night.” He says and eyes your figure. You smile and say; “I’m fine, I handle my alcohol pretty well just a slight headache.” You take the last sip of your coffee and place the mug down.

You look at Husk who seems to be thinking about something before he suddenly speak up; “Maybe we could repeat last night another time? Maybe you could show me what you did with my poor casino?” He teases and smirks. You fake gasp and hold your chest where your sadly dead heart is. “Oh I would bet my soul that my version of the casino is so much better than yours was.”

“We’ll see about that Doll~”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #overlord!husk #overlord husk #overlord #overlords #alastor hazbin hotel #vaggie #hazbin charlie #husker x you #husk x reader #gn reader #reader insert #husk x y/n

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munsonfamilyband · 2 months

Text

In Everything But Blood

Alright, I finished the giant paper I had to write (40 pages jesus christ) and then grad school kind of kicked my ass for a while BUT I AM HERE, back from a months long hiatus to finally write the claudia henderson thing I wrote weeks ago. Enjoy, there will be more but this was so long and I only got to like halfway through it but I wanted to post this.

TW!!!! Seriously TW, graphic descriptions of gore and injuries, medical talk, THIS IS NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE GRAPHIC ON PURPOSE

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve wasn't fully aware of how he was still moving but he wasn't going to question it as he sprints into the hospital behind Nancy and Robin, Eddie draped over his back and getting blood everywhere, Dustin limping as fast as he could behind them. He would probably be panicking more if he couldn't feel the little puffs of air Eddie was breathing out every few seconds against his neck.

The nurses all turn to the doors when Nancy slams them open and while there are already plenty of people who look worse for wear in the waiting room, no one looks quite like the group that just walked in. They're all covered in dirt and ash and sweat and lake water and blood blood bloodbloodblood-

Okay, maybe Steve is starting to panic a little.

Nancy yells for help when no one immediately moves and the gun she's holding definitely helps encourage any nurses and doctors to get over any issues they have treating Eddie.

Robin has to pry Steve's hands off of Eddie's pants. He didn't want to let him go, too scared that he would die and Steve wouldn't be there to help. She manages to gently guide him away from the doors they took Eddie through and she sits him down in a chair before sitting next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"He'll be okay, Stevie. We got him here, he's okay."

Steve knows that she's only saying it to help calm him down, and probably to calm herself down too, but he appreciates it all the same.

As they sit there Steve feels the adrenaline starting to fade and he gets a very stark reminder of how his sides are stinging and every breath makes his shirt rub against the scrapes on his back and arms. If he hadn't been in a state of panic already, worried about Eddie and Max and Lucas and Erica and-

He takes a deep breath and leans into Robin's weight at his side. He can't get help yet, not until he knows everyone else is okay.

(If he were feeling braver he might also admit that he's been a little scared of doctors since Scoops, but he's not feeling very brave at the moment.)

A little while later Steve sees Lucas and Erica and forces himself to stand, hurrying over to check on them, to find out where Max is. He instantly knows that something went wrong when Erica slams into him and holds on tight. He only gets more concerned when Lucas leans in to hold onto Erica and Steve at the same time. And then the pit gets bigger when he feels tears hit his shirt.

"Lucas, hey, you're alright. Hey, look at me- hey. What happened? Where's Max?" Steve stares at Lucas's face as he speaks, trying to get an idea of how he's feeling.

Lucas takes a shuddering breath in before he answers, "She-she-.. it was going fine and then... Jason-Jason fuckin'- he crushed her Walkman and I couldn't-she was floating and Jason had-had a gun and I-She was-was dead, for a minute, and then she-she just started breathing again and I dont-"

Steve pulls Lucas closer again, a hand on the back of his neck to give him support as he spoke quietly. "Okay, alright, you did good. She's here, right? She'll be okay. She's gonna be okay." Steve stayed there with them for who knows how long, only separating when he heard a familiar voice gasp from the door.

"Oh thank god, Erica, Lucas!"

Both of them turned to see their mom in the waiting room and ran at her, where she met them in a crushing hug. As Sue held her children close she looked up, tears falling and made eye contact with Steve. Steve saw her mouth 'Thank you' to him and it made his stomach fall to his feet. Sue had always adored Steve for protecting her kids, first from Billy and then in the "fire" at the mall. But this time, Steve was the reason they got hurt. He let them go off on their own and they got hurt.

He nods and walks back over to Robin and Dustin where they're sitting, suddenly remembering his injuries again as he moves away from the Sinclairs. He has to force himself to walk normally just to make it to the chair, only to nearly collapse back into it.

~~~~

"Alright, time to go, Dust. Now that your foot's been treated I really need to get you home. Claudia is going to start calling morgues if I don't," Steve grunts out as he helps heave Dustin out of his seat and get settled on his crutches. Robin stands once Dustin is steady and she follows them out of the hospital and climbs into the passenger of Steve's car. (Nancy had left once Eddie was taken to stash the RV somewhere and she came back with his beemer. Steve isn't going to ask.)

The ride to Dustin's house is quiet, Steve can tell each of them is silently asking anything out there that the Henderson house was spared. Thankfully when they pulled into the driveway the house was in one piece and only seconds after parking Claudia is yanking open the front door and running out to meet them at the car.

She runs up to Dustin who had managed to stand up using the car as support and they both cling to each other in tears. Steve watches them for a moment before he has to look away or he'll start crying. He spaces out for a bit, just holding Robin's hand when he get startled by the harsh knocks on his window. Looking up, he locks eyes with Claudia and he can't quite read her expression but he can hear her say, "Get your butt out of that car, Steve, I need to look at you. You too, Robbie."

He and Robin make eye contact for a split second before hurrying to comply. As soon as Steve is standing fully he finds himself being yanked down into a hug, Claudia's arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Steve has to take a deep, shaky breath and blink very quickly to stop any tears. He loves Claudia's hugs, they feel like birthdays and Christmas and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket with hot chocolate all at once. When he hears her mumbling about how glad she is that he's okay, well, maybe he cries a little.

After he and Robin are both fully looked at by Claudia and then each given at least 3 hugs, they climb back into his car and pull away form the Hendersons.

"Am I taking you home or are you coming with me?" Steve glances over at Robin as he says it. He knows the answer without he responding, just because her face pinches in the way it does when she's afraid of making Steve sad.

"I know last time we went to yours but I just... I need to see my parents. I'm so sorry-"

"Robs, it's okay to want to check on your parents. I'm not upset. Can you just.. keep your walkie on our channel tonight?" Steve glances at her again, getting hit with another Robin look that says she can see right through him.

"Always, Stevie. I am sorry though, I hate the idea of you in that house alone."

"I'll be okay, Robbie. I'm just gonna sleep as soon as I get home anyways."

Robin stares at him for a moment longer and then nods, grabbing one of his hands to hold in hers for the last half of the drive. She only lets it go to give him a tight squeeze before hurrying out of the car to her front door.

Steve waits until she's safely inside before he pulls away and goes to his own house.

The moment he shuts the door behind himself it feels like all of the energy in his body has been drained away. He can barely keep himself standing, only the pain that shoots down his spin when he leans back onto the door keeps him upright.

He forces himself to trudge upstairs and goes right to the bathroom. He starts with getting the clothes off, deciding to just cut them off so he doesn't have to lift his arms.

Then comes the cleaning. He first tries to shower but he can only handle standing with pressured water pelting his back and soap stinging his feet for a minute at the most. When he gives up on the shower he figures he should at least try to clean the bites.

One second he's standing in front of the mirror and reaching to pull off the fabric, the next his whole body is covered in sweat and he's sitting on his ass on the tile floor. His hands are shaking at he wants to vomit from the pain.

No changing the bandage then.

Steve forces himself to at least wash his face and hands with a washcloth before he collapses directly into bed and falling asleep in seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claudia is worried. She had already been a little concerned when Steve showed up two days earlier for lunch with a flushed face and too pale skin. She watched him and he didn't act any different but she kept note of it so that she could watch him. But then, when they were supposed to have lunch at 12 and Steve still hadn't shown up or even called by 1, well, Claudia was concerned. Steve always insisted on being on time, claiming it came from all the sports he had done (but she had heard him mumble about his parents harassing him about being late before when he had a head injury, so she just nodded along to his excuses). Being an hour late was entirely out of character and something in her gut, the same feeling she had experienced multiple times over the past few years about her Dusty, told her that she needed to go see him, and soon.

Dustin was thankfully not at home, spending the afternoon with the Wheelers, so she didn't have to tell him what was happening before she got into her car and drove to Steve's house.

What greeted her when she parked only made her more nervous. Steve, she had noticed, had strange habits relating to many things. He had to sit close enough to touch the person next to him, he tried to hide it but he never kept alcohol in the house anymore, he kept the curtains closed facing the backyard, and he always, always leaves the porch light on.

But that afternoon in early April, the porch light was off.

Claudia parked quickly and hurried to the front door, not even bothering with knocking. Instead she pulled out the key Steve had made for her and Dusty after the previous summer and let herself in.

The dread that had been growing in her gut only intensified when she entered the house and a very familiar smell hit her nose.

Body odor, sweat and salt and morning breath.

Bodily fluids, urine and vomit. And blood.

Infection, sickly sweet rot mixing with something like ammonia.

Time seemed to freeze as Claudia ran up the stairs, calling Steve's name all the while. She knew those smells, she had dealt with them at work too many times to not know them, and to smell them in relation to Steve made her blood run cold. She needed to see him, this boy who cared for her Dusty so much, this boy who had wormed his way into her heart, this boy who was her son.

Rushing into Steve's room she was greeted by her worst fears. Steve was lying on his bed, the sheets clearly kicked off and tangled around his ankles. He was only wearing his boxers and they had clearly not been changed in a few days, stained with his sweat and urine. His skin was covered in sweat, his chest and cheeks were bright red and the rest of his skin was a waxy yellow. He was shirtless, vomit covering his chin and chest and staining the pillow and sheets below him. He had what looked like scraps of a sweater or shirt wrapped loosely around his stomach. It was filthy, saturated with sweat, blood, dirt and pus. The smell in the room was much stronger than by the front door, her eyes watering briefly before she forced herself to focus. She was a nurse, she could handle this.

Claudia moved to the bed and gently kneeled onto the mattress. As she moved closer she could hear Steve mumbling to himself but it was so quiet and so slurred that nothing was legible. Claudia placed a hand on his forehead and jerked back in shock at how hot his skin was. Glancing around frantically for anything to help she saw the phone at his bedside table and grabbed it, punching in 911 before cradling the receiver between her ear and shoulder as she continued to check over Steve.

The next moments all passed in a blur for Claudia as she explained who she was and where she was to the dispatcher before they hung up and she waited for the ambulance to arrive. The ride to the hospital passed in what seemed like a blink of an eye and suddenly Claudia found herself in the empty waiting room at Hawkins General and she became aware of two equally important facts.

Her sweater and hands were saturated with Steve's sweat and blood.

She needed to call Robin.

The blood would have to wait, because she knew that Robin would want to be there for Steve so she managed to wipe her hand with some tissues before dialing the Buckley's house.

"Buckley residence, this is Robin," Robin's voice came through the receiver and Claudia let out a loud sigh.

"Robbie, honey, thank goodness you're home. I have some bad news. I'm at the hospital right now sweetie, it's about Steve." Claudia paused after she finished speaking, waiting to see what Robin would say. Unfortunately for Claudia, rather than saying anything, she had to listen to a gut wrenching gasp and sob from Robin, so she chose to keep talking. "I went to his house and found him in his room. I think he had been hurt and it got infected. If your parents are home, I think you should come here, he would want you here."

Robin mumbled a few okays, clearly through tears before she hung up. In the silence after Claudia had no choice but to go clean herself up, allowing herself a minute to collapse onto a toilet seat and cry. Her boy was hurt and she couldn't help him, he was so hurt he didn't even know she was there and she didn't know what to do.

Robin arrived about 10 minutes after they ended their call with a surprise in tow.

Jim Hopper, thinner and without a mustache, but somehow alive and marching into the hospital like he was going into hell. Knowing about his daughter, he probably felt like he was in hell.

Robin spotted Claudia first and ran over to her, arms open and Claudia pulled her right into a tight hug, rocking her back and forth the way Steve always loves. Robin held back just as tight and cried into her shoulder while Claudia whispered to her, "He'll be okay, he's going to be okay."

Jim didn't say anything, just nodded - as if she hadn't thought he was dead until that moment - before he collapsed into a chair, head in his hands and knee bouncing with anxiety.

Hours passed, Robin had curled herself up in a chair next to Claudia and was leaning into her side. Jim had moved to sit on the other side of Robin and surprisingly she reached out and held his hand.

After ages of sitting there in silence a doctor walked through the doors. Claudia recognized her immediately and knew that she had been lucky to find Steve alive if she had been called in. Dr. Graham was one of the only wound specialists they had at the hospital and she focused on the worst cases.

Claudia straightened in her seat, her two companions also coming to attention as Dr. Graham came to sit with them.

"Hello, Claudia. I'm sorry you had to come in on your day off but you got very lucky. If you hadn't brought him in today he may have gone into sepsis. Thankfully he has you listed as his emergency contact so I can fill you in on everything. I want to start by saying that he is currently stable and on heavy medication. He had multiple heavily infected wounds, primarily on his abdomen but there was also apparent road rash across the back of his arms and upper back. We were able to debride the wounds from the rash relatively easily but his abdomen was more difficult. The bandage he had been using was extremely dirty and not made for wound coverage so many fibers had been imbedded into the open wounds. Luckily there had been little necrotizing fasciitis but there was enough that we had to remove the dead tissue. I do want to make sure you understand that he was very seriously injured and delayed treatment made it worse. We are going to test the pus we collected for different bacteria to narrow down the treatment for him but I'm thinking it may be leptospirosis, since he is visibly jaundiced and the injures are obviously animal bites. We have him sedated currently and on heavy antibiotics in the ICU. If you wear protective gear you can visit him for a little bit, but only people on his emergency contact list can come."

Claudia's head was spinning, she was hearing the words being said and she was following the doctor down the hall to the ICU. She was putting paper scrubs on over her clothes and donning a mask and gloves, but it was all in a daze. She needed to see Steve, she needed to see him breathing, then she would be okay.

She was not okay.

Seeing Steve only made her collapse into a chair in tears. He looked so small in the hospital bed, wrapped in wires and tubes. But he was breathing. Robin collapsed onto the foot of his bed and bent over his shins while she sobbed and Jim stumbled into the wall by the door with a hand over his eyes as his shoulders shook with silent anguish. They knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was breathing and he had to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alright that was part one, I'm working on the next half but wow that ended up being really long

Taglist

@maya-custodios-dionach @ape31 @eldtritchlizardblast @y4r3luv @devondespresso @zerokrox-blog @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @estrellami-1 @jonesn4coffee @whatexactlyismyhoohah @lingeringmirth @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @spectrum-spectre @steddieasitgoes @puppy-steve @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @nburkhardt @sllooney @princessstevemunson @yellowdevilkitten @emchant3d @steddie-island @afewproblems

#steddie #it will be happening in the next part just not yet #stranger things #steve harrington #platonic stobin #robin buckley #claudia henderson #parental jim hopper #i just tagged a bunch of people who responded to the last post lmao #this was so interesting to write because i am such a fucking nerd that I spent like 5 minutes searching for common bacterial infections #specifically from animal bites #please enjoy my word vomit of emotional unloading #my period gave me the motivation to do this

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widowmaxff · 6 days

Note

In overwhelmed, it mentions that Y/N used to be in a dark hole and how Wanda is afraid she’d go back to it. Can you write about it? Like what happened?

hope ur ok

pairings: mom!wanda × daughter!reader (platonic)

warnings: depressed reader, cryingg, bad thoughts, and sad sad things

a/n: okay how did you pay so much attention to what i wrote in overwhelmed bc i didnt even remember writing that 😭 BUT THANK YOU for the request i literally just ramble what was in my head but hope you like it love!

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!

You don't know when it started, much less why it started. Maybe a few days ago, a month ago, maybe a year ago the signs that something was wrong started to appear. It was almost as if these feelings were always there, just hidden by a layer that was slowly removed and made everything more difficult. It seemed like there were days when you could easily deal with it, maybe ignoring it or just hiding it very well, you didn't know. But there were days that were more difficult. It was more difficult to get out of bed, your appetite was barely there, you didn't want to leave your room, just stay in darkness and total silence. Even though this silence made your head spin, it was better than anyone talking and making you even more depressed.

If someone asked the people closest to you if you were sensitive, you were sure that more than half of them would say no. They would talk about how you had a frozen heart, that you didn't cry when you watched a sad movie, that you didn't fall in love with the character when watching or reading a novel, that you didn't care when someone was fighting with you. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. You felt hard feelings most of the time, including when watching sad films. Maybe you just don't like showing the sadness and emptiness you feel. It makes you feel weak, worthless, and selfish, especially selfish. You shouldn't feel this way, not when you had the perfect life: a loving mother, food on the table, new clothes, and expensive sneakers. Then why?

You didn't really care that you felt depressed, you knew that eventually it would pass, just like every other time - even if that feeling came back some time later, even worse. It wasn't like anyone noticed and said anything to you, even though you were sure most of the adults around you blamed it on teenage hormones when they saw you sulking or just isolating yourself in your room all day. Maybe a few questions like 'are you okay?', even though they knew you would respond with something positive even if everything was falling apart. But there was always someone. Someone who knew that it wasn't just teenage hormones but something that was slowly consuming you. Wanda, your mother, was that someone, and she certainly didn't let those details slip.

The first time you actually showed that you were in a depressing state was on a random Thursday at six-thirty in the morning. Wanda didn't mind much in the first moments when you refused to get out of bed, it was normal for any teenager to not be able to stand school. But when you finally decided to show up for the morning in the Compound's kitchen, she was surprised. You had big black bags under your eyes that were tired and red, looking like you hadn't slept well that night and maybe you had been crying most of it. Wanda didn't take long to ask if something had happened and if you were okay, only receiving a murmur of something like ‘'m fine' before turning back to look at the emptiness of space. Tony who was nearby joked “Maybe the red eyes are because of something she used. Don't tell me you snuck out to a party, Mini Maximoff?”, you'd laugh on any other day, even replying something like 'Yes, I did some hard drugs at a party. How do you know?', but that wasn't the case. Stark laughed to himself after saying that sentence but soon the sound of his voice disappeared when he realized that you hadn't heard him and, apparently, nothing around you.

The second time was right after a mission Wanda had done. It was only three days away from you and everything seemed different when she came back. The first thing she noticed was that you didn't run into her arms when she stepped inside the Compound, much less respond to the messages she sent you a few hours earlier. Obviously like a worried mother she went after you, not taking long to find you in your room with all the lights off, two blankets around your body and how it looked like the things in your room had been in the same place since your mother left for the mission. She turned on the light in your room, hearing a soft growl leave your lips. You were awake and conscious, so it didn't make sense for you to want to be lying down and almost sinking into your mattress at four o'clock in the afternoon. She remembered when you were little and couldn't sleep if at least one light wasn't on, now it was ironic to think that you just lived in the darkness and emptiness of your room without fear that some monster would catch you, because no monster could hurt you like depression was.

Wanda couldn't count how many more episodes like those happened and lasted for several days. She was worried, very worried. She was afraid that you would end up doing something that would hurt you, end everything. It was obvious that your mother tried to ask you what was wrong, how she could help you, but you always said that you just woke up on the wrong foot that morning and that everything was fine. Of course, how were you going to tell her what was happening if you didn't even know. There was no reason for you to feel down like that and not even the absurd desire to just want to close your eyes and not open them again. And every day that passed, this dark hole you were in would get deeper and deeper. You knew you needed to ask for help before it was too late.

It was no longer strange when once again that week you had no will to live. You look at the clock next to your bed and realize that your mother would be coming to your room to call you for another day in two minutes and a few seconds. Just the thought of 'one more day' made you want to throw up the food you didn't even eat the day before, as that empty feeling made your hunger go away. But as much as vomiting, you wanted to cry, cry until you couldn't take it anymore. And it was no surprise when the tears started to fall and you couldn't stop. Even though you are not a loud person, trying to keep yourself in your own bubble, the sobs wanted to get out of your throat anyway.

“Darling?” Wanda didn't mind knocking on your bedroom door in the morning, since you would be sleeping, well, not at that moment. When she heard the choking sounds you were making to keep from crying, she didn't take long to run towards your body on the bed and get under your covers, pressing you against her chest giving the perfect comfort to let you know that you weren't alone. “Oh, my love.” Wanda has seen you cry, many, many times, but it was so different to see you cry as if you were drowning in a sea and needed help from someone, anyone. “It's okay, Mama is here.” With each passing minute it seemed like the tears were getting even bigger than before, but you tried to focus on Wanda's heartbeat as you placed your hand on her chest, making you feel calmer despite all the panic.

The lullaby that starts to leave her lips and go straight to your ear makes you start paying attention to the soft melody and not your terrible thoughts. The language Wanda sang in, Sokovian, was not understood by you, but you still remembered when she sang you to sleep on the days you had nightmares. It was as if Wanda was using her magic to calm you down, even though you knew she would never use her powers on you without your permission, but her voice was so sweet that it was more powerful than any of her red magic. Your breathing becomes soft and your movements slow, as if you were choosing the right words to get rid of that moment, but with your mother there it was almost impossible to lie.

“I wanna get help,” You murmur for just her to hear, despite there being no one else in the room with you two. “b-but I don’t even know why I’m like this.” Your crying had stopped, but you still choked to say a few words. Admitting those words out loud seemed like a challenge for you, and when you said them, a weight seemed to lift off your back despite not having yet deciphered all your feelings. And Wanda knew that. She knew how hard you were to avoid looking like a weak person even if you weren't, even if asking for help wasn't a sign of weakness but rather of improvement.

Your mother kisses your head, taking a few seconds before cupping your face and looking at it. “I'm so proud of you, my angel.” You didn't see pity or lies in the expression on her face. You didn't see disappointment and much less as if you were a problem for her. “I'm glad you want to ask for help, and I'm here for it, yeah?” You felt a little guilty when you saw a tear come out of your mother's eyes, but she was still smiling. The same smile you saw when you woke up, or when you told her some good news, or even when you told her a joke. Wanda never wanted you to feel anything negative about her. She never took out any frustration on you, never made you feel bad when you got a bad grade at school, or when you accidentally knocked a glass on the floor. “I will help you with whatever you need, my love. It will be slow, but I promise that the tightness in your chest will pass, okay?”

“I trust you.” She nods before pulling you into a hug that she knew you needed more than anything at that moment. The process would take a long time until you felt well again, you both knew that, but it was never too late. It's never too late to ask for help, because it's normal to need someone to pull you out of the dark hole sometimes, it's normal to not feel good all the time. Having feelings is normal, even if sometimes they are too deep, or too shallow. You just needed to realize that you were never alone, that people around care about you and will always want the best for you.

“I love you so much. Always remember that.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

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jqhotchner · 4 months

Text

quest

four

when the team finally arrived they immediately asked to see you. aaron wanted to speak with you alone but emily advised against it. you were going through too much right now. she knew the last thing you needed was to see aaron.

emily and rossi went instead. when they saw you they gave you a sad smile.

“how you doing kiddo?”

you shake your head and sniffle. you haven’t seen rossi in awhile. missing the rest of aaron’s team, it was nice seeing someone who felt like family.

“it’s so good to see you guys! you know i didn’t do this, right?”

“we know yn. we’ve found some very good information. we have a feeling that—”

“my father did it. i know.”

they looked at you confused. not knowing you knew everything.

“i—i can tell you guys everything but i haven’t eaten or had anything to drink in twenty-four hours.”

both emily and rossi were pissed. no matter what the circumstances are you never keep a suspect hungry or thirsty for that long.

“we’ll be right back.”

they head back to the team and spot a few officers. glaring at them, emily immediately starts to yell.

“what the hell is wrong with you!”

“excuse me?!”

“she hasn’t eaten or had water in over twenty four hours?!”

“what?” aaron looks at the officer angrily.

“listen, how we get a confession is our business. she’s guilty and continues to lie. once she confesses we will give her food and water!”

“bring her out! emily, you know what to get her? we’re gonna talk to her ourselves.”

“you can’t do that!”

“i can do what i damn well please.”

here they were. face to face after two years of being apart. two years of aaron not knowing you were back in texas. two years of him not knowing you were pregnant before you left. two years of not knowing the three kids you raised alone.

aaron didn’t know what to say. obviously he wanted to talk to you. wanted to know why you wouldn’t even allow him to explain.

but he needed to get you out of this jailhouse and back to your kids.

aaron waited until you finished your food before he asked any questions.

“are you ready?”

you reluctantly nod. you knew he knew everything. scared of how he would react when all of this was over.

“start from the beginning. how do you know robert kelp?”

you sigh. grabbing a napkin and wiping your hands.

“five months ago he came to me. i was working my shift in the back and he asked for me specifically. we talked about what his style was but he wasn’t really present in the conversation. he ended up buying something, tipping me one hundred dollars, and leaving and came back everyday doing the same thing,”

“did he say anything else to you?” emily made herself known.

“not until three weeks after the first visit. he finally opened up to me about his long lost love. telling me how they met, fell in love, and wanted to get married,”

“what did he tell you happened?”

“he had to leave to fight for his country. he told me the two of them would write letters to each other. but after about three months she stopped writing. he was nervous until he got a letter from her. she apparently was pregnant and lost the baby.”

“did he say what she specifically wrote in the letter?”

you shook your head. “no! but i do know he stated that the writing felt off. it was definitely her handwriting but it was messier than usual. like she was nervous to write it. he just assumed it was because of how heartbroken she was losing a child.”

“how long before he told you everything?”

“two months of knowing him he finally told me. he told me that he had found out that the woman he loved was kidnapped. at first i thought he was just trying to tell a really dark joke. but the more he said the worse it got. he told me that her name was sarah. and the father wasn’t her father after all. he was actually one of the kidnappers. she was locked up for her entire pregnancy. when she finally had the baby she was forced to raise the child with—with. aaron i—i can’t say it, god!”

“it’s okay yn. take your time. just take a deep breath, okay?” emily grabs your hand. you nod before proceeding.

“she was forced to raise the child with a darius y/l/n, my father.”

“what did you do after that?”

“i called him a stalker! i said there was no way my father was a criminal! my parents loved each other. but the more i thought about my parents relationship, the more it all clicked. my dad had other kids, obviously, my older siblings. i never met their mothers though, ever! when i brought it up my father just shrugged it off. he’d get angry when i continued to ask. my mother would always flinch and run to me. it was like she was protecting me from getting hurt. when we got older my siblings wouldn’t come around! they refused to be around our father. i never understood. sure, daddy wasn’t exactly soft spoken, and he did punish us a lot for doing something so small, but overall he gave us anything we wanted, kissed us goodnight, and loved us unconditionally.”

“is there anything else you noticed about your mom and dad?”

“yeah! mom was a bit weird about her family. i asked and over the years she would just remember less and less. almost like she was forgetting her past.”

“what did you do when you finally realized things were a bit odd?”

“i went to roberts house. he gave me his address just in case i needed to talk. we discussed everything. he eventually had a private doctor come in and do a dna test. when the results came it in fact stated that robert kelp was my biological father. i didn’t know how to feel. i knew i had to go to my mom! but i didn’t know how to approach the situation.”

“when you did how did she take it?”

“she laughed. she told me there was no possible way that this man was my father. she told me the only man she’s ever been with was my dad!”

“classic case of stockholm syndrome. did your mother say anything else?”

“no? i kept telling her that results don’t lie but she kept shutting me down! eventually she got angry and told me to spot bringing it up. it was all lies and darius was my father. i guess that was the last straw because i got a call from robert. he told me that someone had been following him. he told me to meet him at his house later that night. he stated he had to leave town for a bit but he needed to tell me something important.”

“when you got there what happened?”

“i saw him on the floor. he had been stabbed repeatedly, barely holding on. he kept saying father, father, father. i—i assumed he was telling me it was my father who did this. i know you told me never to touch the weapon on the body but, aaron the knife was in the side of his neck. he was in pain and was already dying. i—i just couldn’t leave him like that. im sorry! im so sorry.”

“hey! none of that. listen, you did what you thought was right. we’re gonna get you out of here, alright? get you back home to you ki—to your family!”

you nod. aaron and emily both walk right out. the head towards the team.

“i have a feeling what he wanted to tell her.”

“what is it?”

“baby girl, i got you on speaker. tell them what you found out!”

“robert was dying!”

“what?”

“i found his medical records. it turns out that he was diagnosed with liver cancer.”

“so, what does that mean?”

“it means robert knew about yn for a while. when he was diagnosed he must have wanted to meet her before she died. that night she went there he was gonna say goodbye because it’ll be the last time he’ll ever see her.” emily states.

“and seeing as he had no other family, he most likely left everything to yn and sarah,” reid continues.

“which is all the evidence the police needed to be certain yn committed this crime. she was at the crime scene, fingerprints on the knife, and she was in his will.”

“but darius committed this crime? come on guys. the man is pure genius. he kept sarah trapped for thirty-six years. he knows he’d get caught. and he wouldn’t want any of this to unfold on him or yn.” derek states

aaron thinks until it clicks. “father, father, father!”

“what?”

“robert repeated those words to yn before dying. father, father, father. he knew who the killer was. the same man who told robert sarah died.”

“one of the captors!”

“penelope! i need you to find everyone tha darius knows. he’d most likely be in his seventies. he’d be very healthy for his age and most likely served in the military!”

“on it sir!”

“lets get yn home to her kids!”

taglist:

@ivebeenthearchersstuff @shergoretzxx @slut4ethan @rosiehale23

#aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x black reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotch imagine #Spotify

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wicchyy · 5 months

Text

0.1 — drunkfession ; james potter

sum: alcohol has both you and James thinking about what could’ve been

warnings: drunk teens

notes: wrote this months ago but its literal shit needed to clear my notes tho!

James stumbled in his steps as he climbed up the corridor stairs. His head was heavy, his eyes bleary, but even in his drunken state he was still able to make out the person stood before him.

Judging by your puffy lips and reddened cheeks, he was able to either guess you were drunk or had been crying. Your hair fell in its silky locks, tangled by the ends. James just wished he could comb through them, make them look perfectly straight just how he liked it. His heart ached a bit when your eyesight avoided him immediately.

He knew he’d hurt you, he knew how you and him didn’t talk much more these days, didn’t joke around even when you’d been promised a friendship still. But none of those compared to you avoiding eye contact with him.

The breakup didn’t go well. He had convinced you that both of you weren’t good for each other. And maybe you weren’t. Things were messy for you, and he was in a complicated situation as well. You’d gone through a list of hookups after. But James, James had gotten into a semi serious relationship with Lily Evans. At first he tried to hide it, then things got more complicated and James couldn’t keep things away any longer. The news came a few months after your breakup, but the fact hurt, and maybe mixed with a bit of alcohol in your senses— you had broke down to the pictures of them together.

James didn’t knew what was going on in his head then, maybe he enjoyed Lily’s company, maybe he did like her. But if he did, then why was he so completely over her in just a week, or why— even worse, was his heart panging in his chest and his heartbeat ringing through his ears when he sees you like this.

And why, when the air gets colder and the leaves turn browner does he have you feeling like his girl again?

“Hi.” He starts simply.

You wave your hand, “You can cross, Potter.”

He wants to speak, but the words don’t come out right, “I— I don’t—“

“You know, you can speak to me properly. Know you’re drunk ‘n all, but it’s really not that hard, Potter.”

“What d’you mean?” He asks harshly.

You lean away from the wall, “I mean, you’ve been avoiding me all the time. ‘S not like I’ve done anything wrong, have I?”

“Oh, c’mon Y/n. I—“

“Why’re you even here?” You slurred, “Shouldn’t you be busy with Lily?”

He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by the question. “I have an actual life other than her, thank you very much. And besides— ‘s not like we were anything.”

You knew. Of course you knew. You were friends with Sirius and Marlene, Merlin, one of those were bound to say something. “Really?” You asked, not to sound too interested or anything.

He hmm-ed, answering simply.

“Then why’d you break up with me?”

One. Two. The seconds passed by just as direct as your words. Unsurprisingly aiming for his heart.

“You know I cant answer that, Y/n.”

You scoffed, “Why not? Haven’t had actual closure all this time. Might as well, right? We’re both drunk, probably wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.”

Truthfully, even if you were drunk off your arse, you knew you wouldn’t forget about anything about this night. Even starting from this moment, it had all been captured and stored in your memory. Just like all the other ones with James in it, it was tucked in the safe space of the small slot in your heart.

“Yes. No— lie. I remember everything with you in it.” Just like your minds were the same, he admitted just a bit more bravely than you.

“I just want to understand, Jamie.”

There it was. Jamie. He knew the nickname was coming, and yet he still expected a small heart attack to occur when you pronounced the name so gently, just like you used to.

“I know you do.” He sighed, running a hand through his mess of curls. “But I don’t know either. My head was a mess, just like you were. And I guess— I guess I never apologized to you and never helped you through it. But you should know, Y/n, I really am sorry for all of it.”

Your eyes shot up to the ceiling, avoiding the mess of tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “I didn’t ask for your apology. I asked why.”

More tugging on his hair, “I don’t— don’t know, Y/n. I guess, things were really messy and I did the first thing that came to mind instead of thinking it through.”

“You should’ve spoke to me. Asked me for help. Or something. I was there for you, Jamie. You had me, just like I thought I had you.”

The words cut. He knew, and you knew too.

“You were there for me?”

You rolled your eyes again at him, a small laugh escaping and your voice going down. “You know you’ll always have me, right Jamie? No need to be so choosy with my words.”

His beautiful hazel eyes light up, “I know.”

“You avoided me. You acted like I didn’t exist.” You frowned. Even with his poor eyesight, James could see your eyes turn glassy.

“Honey—“ James stopped himself, “Sorry, Y/n. I— I didn’t know you felt that way. You said you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“What?” You suppressed the want to smack his head, “When did I ever say that, you idiot?”

“I dunno! I just got the vibe!”

“You’re so stupid, Potter! This is why I hate you!”

“You don’t hate me.”

“Yes, I do.”

James scoffs, “You could never hate me.”

“Right, because you’ve treated me so perfectly.” You mumbled.

The staircase didn’t have much air as the window was far on the top end. You felt yourself getting hotter, particularly the heat reaching up to your cheeks when James clicked his tongue and pursed his lips.

“Let me treat you perfectly then.” He offered, you weren’t sure if he meant it or if it were just one of his mindless, drunk flirting. Probably the latter.

You scoffed, “Not a chance, Potter.”

“I mean it.” He took a step forward. His fingers twitched, itching to grab ahold of yours. He knew just then what it’d feel it, yours were cold and his was warm. He knew it was like whatever this was between you two, just something teetering on the edge, if he had a chance to grab ahold of you he knew he could warm you right up. But James hadn’t yet trusted himself if he was able to earn your heart and not break it again.

“I have experience in not believing what you mean.”

“I wanted it to be you, Y/n. So badly.” He confessed in a whisper.

“Then why not?” You only dared to ask as the tears finally drop gently across your cheeks.

Why not? Well, it was quite clear then why not. Because his robes were decorated with red and gold and meanwhile yours were lined with astute silver and green.

You. Always you. How could he ever forget … about you? Even if it’s been months since your breakup, and months since you’ve spoken so intimately with each other, everything about this felt natural.

“You know why not.”

You rolled your eyes, pretty sure your cheeks have been rained with black mascara by now. “It sucked to see you trailing after Lily for weeks. It sucked because I knew how it felt having you on mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, trying to lighten the mood with your insistent remarks the whole conversation. “You’ve said that before.”

“Honey.” James smirked ever so slighty. He moved his face closer to you until you could feel his breath fanning over your nose. “I’m so, so sorry.” Your cold choulder was suddenly touched by a warm presence, his fingers creeping up to twiddle with the thin strap of your dress.

“Jamie..” your voice wavered, serving as a warning to James.

“I could have you forgiving me so easily, you know that?”

You decided then, if James wanted to play this game then you could compete as well. “How about, you spend more time trying to get a sincere apology to me ready by next morning. Maybe then I’ll see if I’m ready to forgive you.”

“God, I had you tearing up a minute ago and now you’re back to this?” James panted.

Your hand pushed at his chest, “See you in the morning, Potter.”

James smiled politely, the smile you hated. Then his head dipped lower and pressed a singular light kiss on your clavicle. “Goodnight, then.” He whispered against your skin.

“Ugh. Goodnight, Potter.” You replied swiftly before quickly leaving.

💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3

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echobx · 1 month

Text

Erase Me - jj maybank x reader

summary: after a heavy breakup you and JJ Maybank confront each other about the impact this breakup had on you.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, break up

word count: 2.2k

author's note: this was inspired by the song "Erase Me" by Lizzy McAlpine. I wrote this about a year ago when I felt really down and it's very emotionally heavy imo. it's written from the reader's point of view and reader is not marked down with a specific gender

link to the fic on ao3

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The constant hammering on my door woke me up. His old shirt was hanging loosely from my body as I got up and walked to the front door to open it. There were tears in his anger filled eyes as he looked at me. "Did you do it? Did you sleep with him?" He was leaning against the railing opposite the door to my apartment. An apartment that we had called our home once. A home we had chosen together, thinking we'd always stay together. Making it our home because the two of us were all that mattered back then. "I-" I tried to form an answer but he interrupted me immediately. "Deny it. Say it isn't real." Yet I stayed silent, lying would've only made things worse. "Wow. Thank you for your honesty," he scoffed and then he was gone. All while I was still standing there trying to figure out how all of this came to be. The tears started flowing as soon as I heard his bike roar and watched him drive away. Not even a shower could've helped me calm myself down. Seeing him had brought everything back, all the pain and the guilt. I knew that I shouldn't have to feel guilty about what I had done. Of course it had been a mistake but if he hadn't left me in the first place, I would have never been in this position.

I got dressed, my eyes still filled with an insurmountable amount of tears, and drove to the Château. We had rebuilt it after the fire, it had taken so long but it had been worth it. I hadn't been there since our first party after we finished. The only place where he could be was here, even after everything it was the only place he felt safe. "JJ!" I screamed after slamming the door of my car and walking towards the porch. "Don't you think you have done enough?" John B came running out and built himself up in front of me, stopping me from moving closer towards the house. "Because you know everything right? Because he told you everything?" I was so angry at him, at all of them. I pushed JB to the side so I could look at JJ. "You left me! You did that! I had nothing to do with that!" I yelled at my ex-boyfriend. He jumped up and came at me in full rage. "You slept with Rafe!" "I made a mistake after you broke up with me! That's hardly comparable, don't you think?" I spat out, there was still a huge gap between the two of us because I knew I wouldn't be allowed closer anyway. JJ ran his hands through his hair, something he always did when he was uncomfortable, but I kept going anyway. "I was alone at home for a whole month. A whole month, JJ! I didn't leave the apartment because you left me! No one gave a shit about me or how I was feeling. The people that are supposed to be my friends chose you and I don't even blame them. But it still hurts, it won't stop hurting. Because you left!" Kiara and Pope had come out of the house and now everyone was looking at me while I was having an emotional breakdown in front of the porch, but I didn't care about them. My eyes were solely fixed on him. "Don't you think I would turn back time if I could?" he yelled at me. "I don't know. I feel like I never knew you, because you promised me to never leave me and then you did! And I was miserable for a whole month, and no one reached out to me to even just see if I was still alive-" I stopped my yelling for a few seconds to gather my thoughts and started talking quieter. "I know I made a mistake, I know that, but after everything it was nice to just have someone who cared, okay? Can you blame me for wanting to have someone who just listened to me? Just for one night? I had the choice of staying at home again and being miserable or getting drunk and being around people even if they didn't care, at least I wouldn't be alone for a short time." "Stop trying to make excuses for what you did!" he was yelling at me, but I stayed quiet which seemed to enrage him more. "J, I'm not making excuses." I gently shook my head, tears streaming down my face as I looked into his anguished eyes. "I'm trying to explain myself. I'm trying to get you to understand why it happened. I don't need your pity, JJ. I just need you to understand it, okay? It doesn't even matter that it was him. I don't care about him. But for a short moment he was the only one I had and he cared about me and I made a mistake because I felt a sense of security that I had been missing for so long." I took a step forward but was immediately stopped by JB who placed his hand on my shoulder. I didn't care that he was restraining me, I was still only focused on the blond boy in front of me. "You destroyed me. You ripped out my heart and tore it to pieces long before I made this drunken mistake. Do you understand that? Sometimes you seem to forget that your actions have consequences, and if you had wanted to fix things, if you had wanted to not hurt me, then you wouldn't have left me like this." I really didn't want to sob anymore than I already was so I quickly turned around and left again. No one followed me, not like I had expected anything to happen anyway, but it hurt nevertheless.

On my drive home I thought back to the night. I had drowned my pain in alcohol, not wanting to feel a single thing, and Rafe had looked after me. It was weird, I hadn't seen him after we had left for El Dorado months before. But he was there and he was nice and gentle. He made me feel safe, which confused me even more since he had all so often tried to kill me and my friends. We talked most of the night, I don't remember much other than crying and talking, and then a kiss and everything else was a blur. I had woken up next to him feeling like absolute shit. Not only because I had just made a huge mistake but also because there was no way that I could recover from this socially. I was still too intoxicated to walk, but somehow I had made it down the stairs of the mansion and some girl had offered to drive me home. After that rumors about the night started spreading like wildfire. But all I could think of was that JJ would find out in the worst way possible. Even after everything I was still more focused on him being okay than on myself. I didn't let myself fall back into self-destructive behavior for the whole month we had been apart, not because I didn't want to, but because I knew it would hurt him more to see me in pain than I could ever hurt myself. I hated love. I hated the stupid universe for doing this to us, to me. I hated him for leaving me.

As soon as I got home, I got a text on my phone. Rafe. "Call me." I ignored it, nothing good would ever come of it. I changed back into JJ's old shirt. It didn't even smell like him anymore, but it was the only way I could feel at least a tiny bit less sad.

Three days went by where I didn't do anything. I didn't eat at all and barely drank enough water to stay alive. My whole life I had been abused and in pain because of it, but I had never felt this horrible. I didn't know how to deal with this type of pain. It encapsulated my whole being and the only thing I knew that would help me through it, was the guy that brought it all to live.

It was light in the night when I heard keys turn in the door and then footsteps as the door fell into its lock. I took the knife from my bedside table and walked into the living room. JJ was just standing there, only illuminated by the small night light that I had on behind the couch. "I think I broke his jaw," he slurred while looking at his bloody hands. The knife fell to the tiled floor with a loud clatter as I ran into his arms. I didn't care about what had happened. He was there, he was home and he embraced me with the same tightness as always. "I'm sorry, my love," JJ whispered against my neck, his tears running down my back.

I really didn't want to let go of him, but I needed to tend to his wounds so I walked him into the bedroom. He sat down on my side of the bed while I took out the first aid kid, just like I had done so many times before. He took off his jacket and then his shirt. His abdomen was covered in bruises and small cuts. I cleaned his wounds and he flinched every single time that I had to press the cleaning pad against a wound.

"Are you okay? Anything broken?" I asked quietly and he shook his head. "Is he still alive?" I tipped JJ's head up with my finger so he had to look at me. "Why do you care?" His eyes were filled with pain and anger. "I need to know if I have to deal with you getting assault or murder charges. He won't let this go, you know that." I tried my best not to enrage him more because I was too scared that he would run away from me again. "He's alive and well. He was laughing the whole time, I wanted to kill him," JJ mumbled and went back to looking at his bruised up knuckles. I got up and put the kit away. "You should sleep. I'm gonna take the couch." He grabbed my hand as I wanted to walk away. "Don't. Stay, please." "I don't know if that would be wise," I whispered and tried to avoid his sad eyes as much as I could. I didn't want to drown in him again, to lose myself in how good he could make me feel. His actions had scarred me and I really didn't want to get hurt even more than I already was. "I need you, I do. And I was stupid to push you away and it took me way too long to understand it all, all right? I'm not okay and it's worse when you aren't there. I know that it's all my fault. Can you forgive me? Not immediately, I know that's too much to ask, but in the future, could you forgive me for everything I did?" he pleaded. "You should sleep," I said and walked into the bathroom, leaving him behind. I scrolled through my gallery, specifically all the pictures we had taken over the last year of being together. It hurt to see how happy we had been but it gave me hope too. Maybe it was stupid to do so, but I had already decided to forgive him the moment he stepped foot back into our home. I convinced myself that it was the right choice because the thought of losing him forever was unbearable. It hurt more to know he could be happy with anyone else than it had when I had thought him dead after falling off the Coastal Venture, or his bike accident.

"Don't ignore me." Another text from Rafe popped up on my screen and ripped me out of my thoughts.

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Rafe Cameron: Don't ignore me.

Me: I was drunk and I made a mistake. Me: Stop texting me. Me: I am not interested, bye.

Rafe Cameron: He's back, isn't he. Rafe Cameron: He nearly killed me tonight. Rafe Cameron: Does that not matter?

Me: Leave me alone!

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I put my phone down and went to bed. JJ was lying on his side, eyeing me as I walked in and lied down beside him. "That's my shirt," he noted quietly, but I didn't reply. "Can I- can I hug you?" The insecurity was all present in his voice, he had never been like this, not when it came to me. I turned around to look at him. "Are you gonna leave me again?" He shook his head rapidly. "No. I'm sorry that I did that in the first place." I moved closer and he put his arms around me. Just minutes later he was asleep and I rolled over so his head was lying on my chest. I started playing with his hair, just like I had always done. It felt nice to pretend like nothing had ever happened. His scent filled me up like a fresh breeze of air, the smell of saltwater and weed and just him. I fell asleep and had my first dreamless night since he had left me.

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link to the song:

#jj maybank #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #my writing #~fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx one shot #rafe cameron #Spotify

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hazelchooseme · 6 months

Text

A mistake I don't regret | Hazel Callahan.

AU established in the modern world

I don't know what's happening to me but I can't seem to stop writing. So I wrote this 👍

English is not my first language.

Song recommendation: I Know Places by Taylor Swift

Enjoy 🧡

"I finished." You celebrated by throwing your arms up and your head back, you could already feel the end of the semester at the tips of your fingers, you just had to hand in a few assignments, pass a test and you would be completely free for 3 months. The best moment of your life is coming, the holidays.

"I'm going now." You turned to Hazel's voice coming out of the hallway, she was dressed in brown jeans and a green flannel, the gray shoes were the same color as the backpack that hung from one shoulder. She stopped behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders and leaning down to look at the computer screen. "Now that you're done, are you sure you don't want to go?"

"I need to turn my brain off with a low-budget movie with lousy audio, but thanks."

"Good luck finding one worse than the one we saw yesterday." She told you as she messed up your hair.

From what you understood, Josie had received a new video game so she wanted to have a sleepover to try it out, she invited all the girls to spend the night together but this week had consumed you so you had to decline, you knew that Annie would bring her brownies and not being able to try them broke your heart, luckily Hazel knew you well enough that she promised to bring you some, you didn't know what would happen to you without her.

Getting up from the chair you followed Hazel to the door to say goodbye, this had become a routine that you had developed in the 4 years you lived together, every time one went out the other would leave her at the door, they had been doing it for so long that you no longer remembered who had started it.

"Tell them I said hello." You said, leaning on the nearby wall with your arms crossed watching the blue-eyed girl put on her shoes.

"Okay, I'll remind them not to call you so they don't bother you."

"Also remind PJ not to drink so much, I won't be there to clean up the vomit."

"I know." Putting on a red baseball cap in front of the mirror you had in the hallway, she sighed with false sadness. "We will miss you very much."

"Asshole."

Listening to her laugh you were grateful for having crossed paths with her in your life, she was one of the kindest, sweetest, most attentive people you had ever met. You met about 6 years ago when you moved in the middle of your high school years, you connected almost immediately that when you managed to get into college moving in together was more than decided. Everything had been perfect until now, or at least it was until you developed a crush on her earlier this year. It had started when she excitedly told you how she had started talking to a new girl, in the past when she did it you were genuinely happy for her, after all she deserved the best and more, but at that moment you felt like you had been punched in the stomach and spit in your face, the jealousy didn't last that long since that relationship lasted about 3 months, but afterwards you still felt guilty for feeling that way with your best friend.

"Take." You handed her the keys to your car, it was a fairly old one but it kept running, which was the important thing.

"Are you sure? I can order an Uber."

"Take it, it's much safer this way."

"Thank you." She said taking the keys and putting them in her pocket.

She began to approach so you began to stretch your arms waiting to receive the usual hug, when suddenly Hazel's left hand traveled up to your cheek and her lips collided with yours. Although you had looked at her lips an embarrassing number of times you could never imagine how soft they would be, it was just a small pressure but you could still feel something exploding in your chest and your pulse was beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears. You stretched out your right arm catching her waist but as soon as it started it ended and she pulled away from you.

"Tomorrow I'll arrive early so we can have breakfast together." And with one last toss of your hair she walked out the door.

What the fuck just happened?

Hearing the commotion from outside Hazel entered the house without knocking, at this point those formalities were not necessary with the trust they already had. Humming a song, she entered the kitchen to leave some snacks and drinks that she had bought for the night. After having almost everything organized, she called Josie to help her carry everything to the room.

"Hello Haze, what's up?"

"Glasses please." She ordered as she opened a Coke. "And nothing very interesting, did they all arrive?"

"Sep, you're the last to arrive. How is Judas?" She asked, leaving the glasses on the table and eating some potatoes that were on a plate.

Mr G had once called you that after he caught you cheating on a test, they never let you forget it.

"Well, she just finished some work so she was going to rest."

"More food for us then."

"By the way, is there alcohol? She asked me to take care of—."

But before she could finish saying anything, an image came into her head. Your mouth, her mouth, together. Holy shit. Dropping the glass of drink she put both hands on her head as she cursed. No. No. No. It couldn't be, she couldn't have done what she was remembering that she had done, that she had done to you.

"Hazel what the fuck? What happened, are you okay?"

It had to be some trick of her mind, it just couldn't be real, but it was, what the fuck had she done?

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you having a heart attack?"

"What happened, why so much noise?" She could hear someone's voice in the background but she couldn't identify who.

"I think she's having a stroke."

"What?!"

Trying to control her breathing, she turned to see the two girls who were in the kitchen with her.

"I kissed her." She whispered, unable to say it out loud.

"What?"

"I kissed her." She managed to articulate more clearly.

"What? Who?" Making eye contact with Annie she didn't need to say anything else, they had understood.

"Holy shit." Josie said with wide eyes.

"Was it with tongue?" Sylvie asked as she had just entered the kitchen.

"I kissed her." She repeated to herself without being able to believe it.

Leaving the video game more than forgotten, everyone settled into Josie's room as best they could.

"Why the fuck do you kiss her if you're going to regret it later? What a pussy." PJ judged Hazel sitting upside down in a chair.

"I didn't realize what I was doing, don't judge me."

"We don't judge you, we make fun of you." Sylvie clarified.

"But seriously, how do you kiss someone by accident? Aren't you hiding something from us?"

Although Annie's question was not intended to upset or offend, Hazel couldn't help but feel a hint of discomfort upon hearing it. Sure, you were her best friend and she loved you very much but it's not like she had those kinds of feelings towards you, right?

"I don't, I don't know what you mean."

"Looks like." PJ stung with intention.

Well, maybe she thought about you more than she should or looked at you for long periods of time when you didn't realize it, thinking how beautiful you were, but you were best friends, that's what they do, they care about each other and think they are the most beautiful people they have ever seen. What they probably didn't do was kiss each other and not feel a bit of remorse, because yes, Hazel didn't regret having kissed you, in fact, she had enjoyed it and suddenly found herself wanting to leave everything here and go home to finish what she had started.

"Oh my god, you want to fuck her so bad." PJ exclaimed when she saw the blush appear on the blue-eyed girl's face.

"Don't talk about her like that." It was the only thing she could say before remaining silent again with her head racing.

Okay, she could admit to feeling a small attraction towards you, something insignificant, or was it something more than that?

Suddenly a conversation came to her mind, one that she had with her ex-girlfriend before breaking up a few months ago, one where she complained that Hazel spent too much time talking about you and that she should choose between her or you. Swallowing hard, she remembered how she chose you in a heartbeat, without any regrets afterwards, because maybe, and only maybe, it was always you.

"I'm so screwed." She admitted with his face in her hands.

"Think positive, I had started to think that you were the problem with all your relationships ending, and that was the case, so."

"How is that positive?"

"That I was right."

She silently thanked Brittany for hitting PJ on the head.

Exhaling she turned to Isabel. "So, what do I do now?"

"Amm, I can help too, you know." Josie said hurt.

"Shut up, no, you can't, in your first kiss with Isa you almost fainted." Sylvie reminded her.

"Did you tell them?" She asked, very offended.

"Not now, baby."

"Okay."

"Look, Hazel, we can give you a thousand tips but the only way to clarify everything is to talk to her."

"I don't know, I don't even know if she likes me." She suddenly remembered something that made her want to dig a hole in the ground and never get out of it. "Holy fuck! I kissed her without even asking her, I'm a disgusting person."

"Oh please, if she hadn't been dying for you to do it." Annie told her, looking at her as if she were stupid.

"What?"

"It's true, she was dying those months you were dating that girl at the beginning of the year." Brittany said after a silence. "It was too obvious, actually."

"No, that was for something else, she told me. Why would she lie to me?"

"Why are you so worried about the kiss you just gave her?"

Confused by Isabel's sudden question, She decided to just answer it. "Because I don't want to screw up our friendship obviously." The raised eyebrows of everyone in the room made her understand. "Ah."

"Yes, ah, so now get up and go eat her mouth, you both deserve it." In the middle of her realization, PJ had walked towards her to pull her by one arm out of the room to leave her outside the house and close the door in her face.

Without really understanding what was happening, she got into the car and began driving towards her house with the screams of her friends behind her.

"Yes, queen!"

"Go get some pussy!"

"Good luck."

"Don't be like Josie!"

"I was very brave when I kissed Isabel!"

Standing outside the apartment she couldn't have the strength to enter. Would you be sleeping or watching TV? Maybe you locked yourself in your room so you wouldn't see her, maybe you hated her. Pushing those thoughts out of her head, Hazel inserted the key into the lock and with a sigh she opened the door and entered the apartment.

Her first impression of the place is that it was exactly the same, your computer was still on the table next to an empty glass, both the hallway light and the kitchen light were on, the only thing different was the sound coming from the living room and the darkest sky. She took off her shoes, taking more time than necessary, to finally stand up and give herself a mental cheer, at the end of the day you had been the one who was kissed out of nowhere and you needed answers.

The first thing she saw was the movie you had put on, on the screen was a very 2000s looking movie that she didn't recognize, going a little further into the room she could finally see you, you were looking at the screen but it was very clear that your mind was somewhere else.

"I thought you were arriving tomorrow."

Hazel jumped a little in her place, she didn't expect you to have heard her coming.

She shifted in her position and with a hand on her neck she tried to find her voice. "I came earlier" How smart.

"Why?"

"Um, I have to talk to you, because of what... I did, because of what I did to you."

"What did you do to me?" This time you turned to see her. Hazel scared and worried eyes looked bright from the reflection of the TV, you could see how she couldn't sit still and her messy hair confirmed that she had passed her hands through it many times, a sign that she was anxious.

"Are you angry?"

"I'm confused." You responded.

Hazel nodded her head and moved a little closer to you but without sitting down.

"To be honest, I don't have a clear explanation for why I did what I did, I'm sorry if it inconveniences you and if you want me to leave I will do so immediately."

"You regret it." It wasn't a question, from the blue-eyed girl's reaction you were sure that she considered the kiss a mistake, but her response made you swallow your thoughts.

"Unless it made you uncomfortable, I would never regret it."

A little shaky, you slowly got up from the couch without breaking eye contact, you were tired of so many crossroads and unanswered questions.

"I liked you Hazel, I liked you so much that it hurts, and, and I didn't know what to do or say because-because losing you would be the worst thing that could happen to me, but, but then you kissed me and I went crazy and I realized that I don't like you. I love you Hazel. I can't live a life without telling you how I feel, 'cause some part of me hopes that you feel the same way."

Your hands itched to grab something to distract yourself but you refused to move, you wanted your words to reach her with nothing but pure sincerity.

"You love me? Me?" Hazel's voice came out shaky and her eyes grew brighter with tears.

Shit, had you been too direct? There was no longer an opportunity to retract it and you didn't want to, if this was the end you were going to repeat it as many times as necessary. "Yes Hazel, I love you."

In less than three seconds Hazel was all over you, the impact of the body almost threw you back but her arms around you stabilized you, her face was buried in your neck and one of her legs was between yours. Although it was a fairly tight and suffocating hug, you never felt lighter and calmer.

"I love you too, you have no idea how much I love you." She said making her breathing tickle you. So you laughed as you wrapped her in your arms too, your chin ended up on her head where you placed a kiss and heard several I love yous coming out of Hazel's mouth.

You hugged each other for what seemed like an eternity, both of you holding onto each other not wanting to let the other go. After another while Hazel raised her head and one of her hands went to your cheek, where she caressed your cheekbone with her thumb.

"I love you." She said again with a smile full of emotions. Love, calm but excitement, happiness.

"I love you." You repeated to her, feeling the same way.

A shaky sigh escaped her lips directing your attention to them, you had kissed those same lips a few hours ago.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked with as much self-control as you could muster.

She didn't even respond to you when her mouth collapsed on yours, the hallway kiss had been just a small bump, two lips together just sharing an innocent moment, but this kiss was the opposite. Her mouth moved desperately over yours, while one of her hands went to your neck where she began to play with your hair, the other remained firm on your hip, keeping you glued to her. Tasting your lower lip you opened your mouth allowing her entry to explore, your hands went under her shirt, you were grateful that it was a loose fabric as it gave you more freedom to touch everything you could. With a shudder she pushed you towards the couch where, changing position, she sat down and you fell on top of her. Her wet tongue began to run along your neck, her hands went to your hair, pulling your head back so she could explore everything about you, your hands went in the direction of her bra that you unclasped almost expertly. Her mouth returned to yours where she began to leave wetter but slower kisses, her two hands went to your lower back, pressing you closer to her, after a few seconds the kiss began to become a little calmer to end with her placing small kisses all over your face, laughing breathlessly you rested your head on her neck.

"Are we something now?" You asked stupidly, it was obvious that oxygen still wasn't reaching your brain.

"Shit I hope so because I need to kiss you like that again."

With a sigh of relief you moved away from her neck so you could look into her eyes.

"Hazel, I love you."

"And that's why I'm the luckiest girl in the world." Savoring the moment, and her lips, you decided this was the best moment of your life, screw the holidays.

#hazel callahan #ruby cruz #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel x reader #lesbian #sapphic #wlw

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dreamwatch · 11 days

Text

I tell you folks, it's harder than it looks

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest April warm-up round.

(So... I forgot to get something written before today, so this is a bit of a speed write and I hope I got as many typos and redundancies as possible. For anyone interested, the idea came from another fic I wrote a while ago, where you can see Wayne's POV.)

****

Kangaroos. That was the reason Steve had picked Australia to join the tour. Eddie called from every continent, trying to tempt him with far-flung locations, but in the end it was the kangaroos that got him. And thank god, because if he’d got the call that Eddie had collapsed on stage, or worse, saw it on the news, he’d be losing his mind right about now. So yeah, thank fuck for kangaroos.

They’re holed up in a hospital in Sydney, trying to keep the press away from Eddie. Jeff and Ben hover near Eddie’s bed, Gareth standing as close to the door as he can, arms crossed and eyes firmly fixed on the floor. The atmosphere is uncomfortably tense.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay then. I mean, as long as you’re sorry—”

“Gareth,” Jeff interrupts. Always the peacemaker.

“Don’t ‘Gareth’ me, man. I’ve been saying for months, for fucking years, we need to slow down before one of us gets hurt. And here we are. But hey, I’m just the drummer, no one fucking listens to me. Or any of us for that matter. Just him.” He gesticulates at Eddie.

Steve feels like an interloper and it’s a little uncomfortable; he’s got no desire to be the Yoko Ono in this situation but he’s not leaving until Eddie tells him to. His eyes drift back to Eddie who’s staring out into the Sydney skyline. The fierce bruise on the left side of his face has come out in anger now, gauze and tape covering stitches. It makes his heart fucking ache.

Steve had been there at the edge of the stage watching the show when Eddie wobbled and went loose-limbed, watched him just drop, the sickening snap back of his head as he hit the drum riser. Ben had got to him first, Jeff signalling for help, while Gareth stood behind the drums, frozen. He had looked terrified. Steve stood there watching helplessly, heart in his throat the whole time.

Eddie’s eyes go wide with panic. “Shit. Wayne.”

“Taken care of,” Steve tells him. “Called him a few hours ago. He’s fine. Getting your room ready as we speak.”

“Press too,” Jeff chips in. “You don’t need to worry about anything, it’s all taken care of man.”

“Shouldn’t need to be,” mutters Gareth.

Jeff sighs, “Jesus Christ, man, will you quit it?”

Gareth finally looks up, first at Jeff, and finally at Eddie. But there’s no anger there. Steve can see the worry in his eyes and he gets it. He’s spent years of his life worrying about bad things happening to his friends and being powerless to do anything about it. It fucking sucks.

Ben puts his arm around Gareth, leading him outside. “Let’s go rustle up snacks, dude, I’m fucking starving.”

Eddie picks at the edge of the tape holding the IV in the back of his hand. “Well, that went well.”

“Hey,” says Jeff, shaking Eddie’s ankle to get his attention. “He’s not angry, okay? He’s just scared. We all were, but… you know what he’s like. He’s our sensitive little flower.”

A little ghost of a smile settles on Eddie’s lips and it unlocks something in Steve, eases the worry just a tiny bit.

“Yeah, I know. I am sorry, you know? I didn’t want this to happen, man. I just… I just thought it was the right thing to do for us. The tour. All of it.”

Jeff sighs. “Listen, when we get back, a few things need to change. Firstly, we’re taking a fucking break. A long one. We’re all burned out.”

Eddie nods softly. “Of course.”

“And we are never doing a tour this long again. Non-negotiable. Strict date limits going forward.”

“Absolutely.”

“And one last thing.” Jeff shifts uncomfortably. “He didn’t say it the right way but… Gareth wasn’t wrong. About no one listening to us. To Phil, specifically, not listening to us.”

Steve knows Eddie has a near-pathological fear of losing everything, but he’s since learned that their manager, Phil, has preyed upon it, tapping into the fear, pushing for more albums, more interviews and appearances, and longer tours. And Eddie just can’t say no. “You never know when it will stop,” he told him once.

Steve would love to get his fucking hands on Phil right about now.

“He’s got to go.”

And Eddie agrees, just like that, because it’s Jeff. To the public, it’s Eddie’s band, but to everyone who truly knows them, it’s Jeff who keeps them together. It makes Steve smile to think about the nerdy kid from high school, comparing him to this man who stands at Eddie’s side in front of thousands, night after night, confidence oozing from him.

The door clicks open, and Ben wanders in with a Coke, Gareth slinking in behind him. Gareth shuffles forward and Eddie reaches up with his free hand, and Steve finds himself letting out a huge breath when Gareth takes it.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Gareth says, softly.

“I know. I know man. I was an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

Steve is expecting a snappy comeback, but Eddie’s starting to wilt, and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I think we should let Eddie get some rest,” he says. “Long flight tomorrow.”

The boys say their goodbyes, and Steve pulls his chair as close to the side of the bed as he can manage. Eddie smiles at him, their fingers entwined.

“Close enough there?” Eddie says, smiling fondly.

“No,” he replies, smiling back. He never wants to let Eddie out of his sight again. “How you doing?”

Eddie drops his head back onto his pillow. “I feel like shit.”

“Maybe I’ll need to move to LA to keep an eye on you.”

A soft blush blooms across Eddie’s cheeks. “Maybe you do,” he says shyly.

“Go to sleep then. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As Eddie drifts off, Steve thinks about how to tell Robin he’s moving to LA.

#corrodedcoffinfest #eddie munson #steve harrington #corroded coffin #ccf warmup: Taxed #steddie fanfiction #corroded coffin fanfiction

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kali-chaotic-neutral · 3 months

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What you need to hear right now

Pick an outfit aesthetic and get called out by my Tarot decks

Light Academia Preppy Fairycore Coquette

Disclaimer: This tarot reading is not meant for you to make drastic choices or actions. Take this with a pinch of salt, this is just me giving advice with my sassy decks. Take the advice you want, anything that doesn't resonate, leave it.

My decks are taking turns calling you out on your bullshit, because sometimes delulu is NOT the solulu.

Light Academia:

What is your relationship with money? No, seriously. You're saving and saving money and not using it. And that's good. But there's a thin line between being frugal/not wasting your money and willingly hoarding. The former is being more smart and saving up to benefit you in the future, but the latter comes more from anxiety and fear. You don't want to buy things or spend some money in fear of loosing everything. Hoarding and having this paranoia over money will end up in you loosing it all as the universe will see you unhappy over the money you have that it will take it back and not give it. Not because you don't deserve it, but because the universe thinks that this wealth and money that you're hoarding is putting you in a bad place and it doesn't want that.

Why are you so nervous and hesitant to reveal your projects? It could be a book you're writing, poems, art, anything. Your fear of failure and eventually not letting others see your work will lead to what you fear. Failing. I was there in that place, darling. I feared people would judge me because of what I wrote, how I wrote. Then I showed a couple of my friends and teachers and they LOVED IT! People might not like it, but that doesn't they'll hate it. You'll never you know until you try.

How long are you going to hold onto the fear of failure or maybe years ago when you did fail in something that caused that fear? How long are you going to let the past drag you down? Hold you back from being the writer, the poet, the artist that you are!? The fear will always be there, but would you rather be in a a perpetual state of fear and anxiety or be someone that doesn't have regrets. Because there will be if you hold yourself back like this. Oh, why did I not just enter that poetry contest? Why did I not just show my art to others? Why did I not... Why didn't I... Regrets. Do you want a future full of regrets? No? Change.

You have a habit of being a big talker. Oh, I'll publish my book when I 'm 25. Oh, I'll go to the best art college. Oh this and that and that. But do you work hard to achieve those? I'm a big talker too, I had troubles working up as well. My 11th grade AS Level exams were a wake up call for me. I've passed and am on my way to a good college in a few months. Work hard and smart, don't keep flapping your gums dreaming big. It won't come true unless you work hard enough for it. You're also focusing too hard in perfecting your work to your detriment. Trying to perfect things almost always lead to it being even worse than before. Leave your projects as they are and let someone else, someone you trust look at it. Let them give you input and comments on your work, take those comments as ways to make your work better. Not as flaws they notices.

Once you fix all this shit up, work on yourself and your fears, fast change and movement will come. Maybe you'll finally get into that art college or college. Maybe you'll get that scholarship. But good change is coming. Don't read this and go: oh, good change is coming, I'll just relax a bit—NO!! If you do this the change will be for the worse. The universe will be sending you lessons after lessons if you slack off. Not until you're well off and in that dream house and job.

Slack off and my cards can see bad luck coming, you might lose people in your life due to conflict. Nothing good. There will be family issues that will need your attention, maybe someone is sick or just not feeling well mentally. If you actually work hard, I can see you becoming emotionally mature, and a good and loving figure to yourself and others.

Preppy:

Why are you putting more on your plate than you can eat? Why are you willingly allowing your workload to get heavier and heavier? You're overworked, on the brink of a burn out and yet you're here panicking and loosing sleep over the burden of projects and work you've put upon yourself. Put the other projects aside, do the most important one. And now, I know there is one project that is more important than the others. Evaluate the significance of the work you're doing and do the most important ones. One by one. Don't multitask darling. And stop overburdening yourself. You're letting obstacles get in the way and thus loosing discipline over yourself and loosing sight of your real goal. Take back the reins and steady yourself, focus on the path you want to take and go there.

Due to doing the exact amount of work you're supposed to be, you're able to solely focus on your projects. Cultivating it and making it better and successful. And I can see this as a time of celebration. BUT. Don't let it get to your head. Because if you do and you get cocky, fortune will not favor you. When things go downhill for you, learn from your mistakes and ensure it doesn't happen again.

You're not letting change take place. You're refusing to let this chapter of your life end, because you're afraid what the next chapter holds. LET GO!! Stop trying to extend the pages of this chapter. IT"S OVER. The more you resist, the more the situation will drag and drag. Universe has your back no matter how stubborn you are.

You're doubting yourself. This is impeding you being able to fulfil your highest potential and be your best self. Take a small break from whatever you're doing. Reflect, self evaluate. I've recently begun doing shadow work every night before bed, 3 questions max (you can find on Pinterest) and I do a gratitude journal every morning when I wake up (bullet list of what I'm grateful for). Limit and stop your inner critic, because you become what you think. If someone grows up being called an idiot they'll always think they're an idiot. It won't matter if a few teachers of peers say they're surprisingly smart. Change your mindset, be kinder to yourself. It isn't easy. But you'll get there.

If you continuously drag the past and your insecurities with you, it will lead to more stressful situations, more sadness, failure, a place where you'll be forced to choose. if you don't let these drag you down, you will become the highest version of yourself and someone who is successful and confident and powerful.

Fairycore:

You're not listening to your intuition, or your inner voice. Your intuition is important and should be heard. Maybe you're ignoring red flags in a person, or a situation. You're not listening to yourself and that is not good. You're not facing your inner world or your inner truth. Not wanting to accept or listen, not sure. But it isn't going to do you any good. Withdrawing from your inner world will lead to disbalance. Turn towards your inner self, take care of it. Focus on which part of your life is being unattended, care for it.

You're trying too hard to fit in with the crowd. Going along with the trends, doing what everyone else does, and nothing is wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with going with the flow and doing what is familiar to you, just don't put too much effort into it. Like you know the long line for Stanley Cups? (I think that's what they're called) Like don't be that desperate and plain like the others.

There will be burdens on your mind/mental health due to neglecting your inner voice and thoughts. You will end up bursting and exploding one day and it will lead to guilt and embarrassment. This will lead to you withdrawing within yourself, not wanting to go out. You'll feel tempted to give up and withdraw into yourself. Don't. Plan strategically, be aware of people around you that may not have your best interests at heart. Don't trust blindly, listen to your intuition and gut feeling. Listen and plan.

Once you begin strategically and logically planning, you will be successful (financially) and there will be better relationships in your life (platonic, romantic, etc.) You life will be more harmonious and calm and pleasant and once you've dealt with the people who don't have your best interest at heart, new better friendships will come. SO DON"T GIVE UP B*TCH!!!

Coquette:

You're frustrated because an idea for a project that you have, is not really having the breakthrough that you hoped it would. You're exasperated, tired and annoyed. I would be too. But it won't get better the more annoyed you get. Go back to the planning books/board and read over what you had planned. Proofread it, cut out a few things, add a few things, change a few things. Don't let frustration get to you here. It happens to all of us. The project simply needs a tweak. You're ambition has lead you to rush with this project, that's why it's not going the way you want it to. You've rushed the planning, so the project will be that way. Unsatisfactory. Don't rush headlong into these things, take time to prepare and plan the foundations of the project. It's almost like you're trying to grow up fast. And that's not good. Don't rush the process. Enjoy your life as it is now, before adulthood comes with its imposing responsibilities and expectations. Otherwise you'll live a life looking back into your childhood with regrets.

Because of this regret or stress from jumping into things rashly, it could lead to unhealthy addictions. You falling into darker thoughts. This could lead to times of confusion, where you're lying to yourself. Being delulu and trying to convince yourself it's not that bad. Change. Don't let your delusions get ahold of you, take a break from what you're doing and re-evaluate your work. Once re-evaluated and proper change brought, I can see you getting everything you've ever tried manifesting.

there could be a male figure (either a partner/brother or friend) will be a great help to you in financial matters. Maybe even a beginning of a romance if it is a friend and if it is a partner, maybe your love life will take a next step. ONLY if you work on the issues I've stated

#tarot spreads #free tarot reading #tarot community #pac tarot #pac reading #tarot pac #witchy vibes #baby witch #witchcraft #pick a pile #pick a photo

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mncxbe · 5 months

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I'm in my party dress. He says "You're such a mess"♡

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ unethical

Your head spun as you downed another shot. It was if you were stuck in a never-ending rollercoaster, looping somewhere on cloud nine. The bittersweet drink burned its way into your core, blooming heat in every cell of your body.

Sliding off the slick black bar stool you stumbled to the plush couch where Fukuchi was seated, a glass filled with golden liquid hanging idly between the tips of his fingers; staring mindlessly at the crowd of blaring people.

"Hey captain, you having fun?" you asked, disrupting his train of thought. His head snapped in your direction and he raised his brows.

"What'd you say?"

Placing a hand on the back of the couch for support you leaned closer to him and spoke loud enough to cover the roaring music of the club "I asked if you're having fun"

He simply shrugged in response, holding your gaze "It could be worse"

Fukuchi had to admit he didn't really like clubs with their loud music, overly expensive drinks and technicolor; but it was Teruko's turn to pick that month's mandatory teambuilding activity so he had no say in it.

As you plopped yourself next to him, his gaze followed the line of your collarbone down to your chest, skimming over the edges of your dress. How you could go out of the house wearing that thing was beyond comprehension; in the flashing lights of the club the satin seemed to stick to you by some sort of electricity, shfting colours like the surface of a lake in moonglow.

For a brief moment, Fukuchi found himself reaching a hand to touch you but he soon regained his composure. Setting his glass down on the arm of the couch he sighed, leaning his head back.

"Aren't you gonna finish that?" you slurred, voice laced with mischief and he shook his head in reponse.

"Nah. You can have it if you want to"

The alcohol was already starting to cloud his mind, a familiar pressure building in his skull. He knew it wasn't smart to drink around you, you were too tempting.

Fukuchi wasn't a stupid man. He noticed the subtle glances during meetings, how you always offered to bring in the reports for the whole team on Friday evenings, when there was no one but him left at the headquarters. He was fully aware of your intentions, yet laying amidst the blaring crowd in this god forsaken club, he didn't seem to care about your closeness.

Your chest was pressed against his side as you leaned over him and reached for the glass. His arm instinctively slid around your waist, keeping you from stumbling over as you drank the last sips of alcohol from his glass before setting it back down.

"Woah that's strong" you whined and he couldn't help but smile.

You shifted slightly; pretty dress hiking up as you crossed your legs. "Say, sir..." you began, tracing your fingertips along his clothed thigh. "How about we have another drink? My treat"

"I think you've had enough for tonight, Y/N" he smile, trying to ignore the bulge in his pants. Fuck, you were such a tease. Your hand trailed higher up, teasingly hooking a finger under his belt and he seized your wrist.

"Careful now, Y/N" he hissed, cold gaze meeting your own. "This ain't the best place"

A small chuckled rolled past your lips. Fukuchi felt his heart sink when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, so vivid despite the alcohol you've consumed- pleading him. "Then take me somewhere else"

And how could he say no to you?

Half an hour later, your head was pressed against the cold pillows on his bed, muffled groans and mewls rolling past your lips as he rammed himself inside you from behind.

"You're doing well, sweet thing" he cooed, nails digging into the plush of your hips.

The whole thing felt surreal, like a hazy dream; it was all so wrong it felt right. Your mind spun from the alcohol, unable to fully comprehend the situation you were in. But it's not like you cared about anything except how good he felt inside you right now. He reached all your sweet spots with each thrust, way better than anyone did before and you swore you could see starts; pearly tears pooling at your lashline.

"God fuck it's so good" you mewled, fingers digging into the pillow underneath in a futile attempt to keep yourself grounded. He only hummed in response and tightened the grip on your hair.

"Told ya I'd treat you well princess"

With a swift movement he flipped you on your back, sharp eyes tracing the outline of your body; hair a tangled mess, makeup smeared on your cheeks and pillowcase, one strap of your white lacey bra off your shoulder. Your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath you took, lashes fluttering shut as you tried to keep your gaze focused on him.

"God, you're such a mess" he chuckled, thumb coming to circle your puffy clit, making you shudder.

"Now, now. Be nice pretty. I'm not done with you yet"

With that he slid inside you again, earning a low moan from you as he bottomed out and resumed his brutal pace. He fucked you nice and deep, just how you liked it- a familiar tingle pooling in your core.

Your nails dug desperately into his back, reaching for something to hold on to- you stomach twisting with guilt as you came, staining the bedsheets with your slick. Your walls clamped around him, coaxing his orgasm and he came with a loud groan.

"Sweet thing you're gonna milk me dry if you keep squeezing me like that" he uttered in a shaky voice, breathing heavily; but you felt too drained to say anything in reponse.

Instead, your eyes closed shut; but you could still make out the sound of his voice calling out your name, the cool air that seeped into the room through the open window against your heated skin, his gentle- surprisingly tender touch as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

And then you were out cold, forced into a deep slumber by your exhaustion.

The next morning you woke up to the faint sound of the rush hour traffic. You could taste the alcohol on your tongue- bittersweet, and you took in a deep breath. That moment your eyes snapped open; this wasn't your bed.

Memories from the previous night came flooding back in bits and pieces, like an old picture show, crackling with static and you sighed, rubbing your eyes.

"Thought you'd never wake up" echoed a voice from the other side of the room and you tilted your head to the side to see Fukuchi leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"How'd you sleep?"

A small groan rolled past your lips as you pulled the covers over your head in attempt to hide the blush that rose to your face.

Fukuchi couldn't help but chuckle upon seeing you. Frankly, the shift of attitude amused him. He walked to the edge of the bed and sat down next to you. You felt the mattress slowly sink under his weight and you tightened the grip on the covers.

"Come on now Y/N. No need to be shy." he chuckled, pulling the duvet off of your head only to meet your defeated gaze.

"Captain I apologise for the way I acted last night it was totally inappropriate and-" you began, but he quickly cut you off, raising a hand.

"Do you think I'm mad about it?" he asked and you shook your head in response, earning a smile from him.

"Exactly. So don't apologise"

A deep silence fell between the two of you and you simply looked down at the covers. You were painfully aware of the bare skin beneath them, of how much of a mess you were right now; head pounding like you hadn't slept in days. Shame flooded your every thought and, carried through your bloodstream, reached every cell of your body.

A faint aroma of coffee reached your nose; as if on cue he rose from the bed, threading a hand through his silvery hair.

"Look, how about I let you get cleaned up and dressed and then you join me for a cup of coffee?"

You nodded in response and gave him a faint smile.

"Alright. The bathroom's there" He pointed at one of the adjoining rooms before making his way towards the door. Just as he was about to step out he turned around, flashing you his signature smile.

"I gotta say Y/N dear, this was one hell of a teambuilding" he said with a wink and you sighed, finding shelter beneath the cold covers once again.

You closed your eyes again and took a deep breath in, relishing the comfort of his bed. Yes, the situation wasn't ideal. You needed to get out of this room, face your boss and talk the whole thing out; and what's worse you knew that neither of you was willing to put an end to this ordeal.

You wanted to push these thoughts in the back of your hazy mind, drown them in whatever liquour was left in your system, but you knew you couldn't. You shouldn't. So five more minutes under the blankets and a cold shower will have to do.

#i promise i don t have daddy issues #i know it's hc he has erectile dysfunction and i FULLY AGREE but for the sake of the story we'll let it slide #the voices won #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #fukuchi bsd #fukuchi smut

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