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urdepressedslut · 9 months

Note

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

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punkshort · 19 days

Text

i know who you are | 5. the dinner

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Everything seems perfect until it all unravels. Emotions come to a head and the big lie is revealed.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, alcohol use, eating, flirting, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, minor infidelity, one use of 'daddy', big ol' emotional argument (lots of mean and hurtful things get said)

WC: 9.5K

Series Masterlist

By some miracle, you didn't end up getting sick, although it took most people in town a full week to recover from the flu. The infirmary was packed every day and Nick regularly expressed his endless gratitude that you chose to work for him. Maria and Tommy isolated as best they could in their home out of fear their daughter would get sick. When the townspeople slowly began to recover, they were itching to do something, so they decided to host a dinner.

One thing you hadn't done in ages was bake. You used to do it often, something you found rather soothing and rewarding long before the world went to shit, so you decided to make something to bring to dinner. After exploring your pantry, you discovered you had the right ingredients to make a simple pie crust, so you got to work mixing and rolling out the dough, getting so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear Joel walk through the front door.

When he heard you working away in the kitchen, he walked softly towards the entryway and leaned against the frame to admire you. He crossed his arms and smiled to himself when he saw the bits of flour smeared across your cheeks and your hair a little disheveled, your appearance not a concern to you as you worked.

It was the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. He almost felt bad when you suddenly sensed his presence and looked up, disrupting your flow.

"Don't mind me," he said with a smirk before strolling over to the table to sit. "Whatcha up to?"

"Making a pie," you told him as you pinched some flour between your fingers and scattered it over the counter. You picked up the sticky ball of dough and sprinkled that with a bit of flour, as well, before grabbing the rolling pin. "Thought it would be nice to bring something with us tonight."

Joel nodded and picked up an apple from the bowl on the table. "That's nice of you," he said before taking a bite, "I'm sure they don't expect us to bring anythin'. They're just bored outta their minds and lookin' for someone to play with their kid for a while."

"Hey! I need those!" you scolded when you heard the crunch. He paused his chewing and looked down at the apple in his hand before stretching his arm out to you with a grin.

"Here you go," he said, mouth full. You laughed and shook your head before focusing on the dough once again.

"Keep it," you said, "I'll still have enough."

He leaned back in his chair and watched you diligently roll the dough out until you achieved the level of thickness you desired and then laid it gently in a buttered pie pan.

"Can you help me peel?" you asked when you came over to grab the bowl from the table, and he couldn't resist reaching out to dust away the flour from your cheek. You looked at him in surprise and he gave you a small smile.

"'Course I'll help," he said, standing up to grab two knives from the drawer. After giving yourself a moment to recover from his unexpected touch, you joined him at the counter, placing the bowl between you both as you began to peel in a comfortable silence. It had been almost two weeks since you saw Ben outside the tailor, and although you always looked for him whenever you walked to and from work, you never crossed paths with him again. You had been hoping to corner him to try to get more information before confronting Joel, but you had no such luck. So, with a deep breath, you cleared your throat and focused on your apple before speaking.

"Joel?"

"Hm?" he replied, his brows pinching together as he carefully worked his knife around the apple in the palm of his hand.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked as your pulse began to thrum faster in your throat.

"Sure," he said, still laser focused on his task.

"Who are the Fireflies?"

His hand slipped and he dropped the apple and knife, pulling the pad of his thumb into his mouth with a hiss. You gasped when you saw a few drops of dark red blood on the cutting board and put your knife down before grabbing a somewhat clean towel and handing it to him.

"Is it bad?" you asked, taking a step forward to try and see his injury before he wrapped it in the towel. He shook his head.

"Nah, I'll live," he said, studying the cut for a second before applying pressure again.

Still, you rushed to the linen closet to grab the first aid kit and brought it downstairs. "Rinse it under the water," you instructed him before opening the bag and rifling around. He did as he was told and watched you pluck out a bandage and a small bottle of antiseptic. "Show me," you said, and he held his hand out to you so you could examine the cut. He studied you up close while your attention was focused on his thumb, taking in every feature on your perfect face and inhaling your familiar, comforting scent while you bandaged him up. If this was what it took to get you close to him, then he was ready to injure himself every damn day.

"You're good at that," he murmured, flexing his thumb when you were all done. "Learnin' a lot from Nick?"

You packed up the first aid kit, avoiding his heated gaze. "Yeah, I guess so," you said, turning back to your apples. Ever since Joel caught the flu and you helped nurse him back to health, it felt like there was a shift in the air between you. He was more brazen with his touch, like when he wiped the flour from your cheek, and while you never asked him not to touch you, your feelings for him were complicated. Until you could figure it out, you had been trying your best to not allow yourself to get caught in his orbit.

It was proving to be more difficult than you expected.

"Why don't you go sit down, I can finish these up," you said, your eyes cast down on the apples. You felt him regard you silently for a moment before he pushed off the counter and went back to his spot at the kitchen table. It was obvious what he was doing. It was the exact opposite of what you were doing. He was trying to create a charged moment, and you were trying to avoid them.

"You didn't answer my question," you said, and his energy immediately shifted.

"Where'd you hear 'bout the Fireflies? From Ellie?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. You looked up at him, confused.

"Ellie? No," you replied, shaking your head. "I ran into Ben a few days after our visit. He thought you had already told me about them and seemed a little skittish when I didn't know who they were."

You watched him closely, refusing to look away as he tried to mask his anger, but you could still see it. His jaw tensed and his uninjured hand clenched into a fist in his lap while you waited for an answer.

"So?" you prodded, cocking your head to the side. His nostrils flared for a second before he took a deep breath and turned his head away.

"The Fireflies were the group the three of you had joined before comin' to Jackson," he began. You tried to focus on peeling your apples but you were working incredibly slow, not wanting to miss a single word. "You were with 'em for a couple years. They had a decent setup, kept you all safe. Better than the QZ."

"Okay," you said slowly, picking up another apple. "So it was a community like this one?"

He huffed and shook his head, "Not exactly. More like an army. They're a revolutionary group. They rose up against the military and took over QZs with the promise of givin' control back to the people, but..." he trailed off and scratched his beard. "Wasn't all that simple. They killed alotta people in the process, and in the end, civilians still suffered. Didn't end up matterin' who was in control when both sides were just as violent."

"Oh," you said softly, setting your knife down, "so I joined because of what happened to my family? Because the military killed them? And then I ended up killing innocent people, anyway?"

Joel shrugged and stood up. "Like I said, we all made decisions the best we could with what we knew at the time. You didn't know any better. Nobody did."

"Did you join them, too?" you asked.

"No," he said, pressing both palms flat against the counter as he looked at you.

"So why did Ben seem to think telling me about the Fireflies would cause a problem with us?"

His mouth pressed into a thin line and you saw the suppressed rage flicker across his eyes again. "Fireflies ain't exactly well received by most people," he said, "lotta people here had family that was hurt or killed. Innocent bystanders caught in the middle of a war they didn't start."

You swallowed nervously, apples long forgotten as you braced yourself for your next question. "Did the Fireflies hurt someone you loved?"

Joel's gaze dropped to his hands and he clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell you. He should have just fucking spit it out and told you everything, but at the last second, he chickened out.

"No."

And you may not have known him as well as you did before the accident, but you knew him well enough now to be able to tell when he was lying. You tried to hide your disappointment by picking your knife back up and getting to work.

"Are there others?" you asked him, and he lifted his head up, "other former Fireflies who live here?"

"Aside from you three? Just Tommy."

Your jaw dropped in surprise and your eyes snapped up to him once again. "Tommy?"

"Mhmm, just for a little while. You didn't know each other before Jackson," he said, anticipating your next question. "Fireflies are a big group. Spread out all over the country."

"Oh," you said softly, looking back down at your half peeled apples which were slowly becoming brown on the edges. You began peeling again, faster now, as you thought about everything he just said while he watched you carefully from the other side of the counter. You weren't sure what else to say. It felt like he was telling you the truth, but you still had a hunch he was leaving something out.

"Y'know, it's a miracle I didn't eat half that damn pie before we got here," Joel said teasingly as you walked up the porch steps to Tommy and Maria's house. "Whole house smells like Christmas now. Drove me crazy all afternoon."

You smiled and smoothed down the blue blouse you found tucked away in your closet. It wasn't a top you could envision yourself working in, it looked a bit too nice for that, so you thought dinner would be a perfect time to wear it, combined with a dark pair of jeans that were relatively clean and only slightly frayed on the bottom. At the time, you thought it was cute when Joel came downstairs with his hair slicked back and his flannel tucked into his jeans for once, but when you walked into Tommy and Maria's and found the house to be filled with four married couples from around town, you suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"I didn't realize anyone else would be here," you murmured quietly next to Joel as you slid off your coats.

"He mentioned they may invite a few others but I didn't think this many," he told you, taking your coat and hanging it up before looking around. They had two tables covered in linen pushed together in their dining room which was alight with candles and sprigs of pine and holly spread around the middle, giving the room with a warm and romantic atmosphere. You swallowed nervously and all of the sudden, the evening felt too much like a date.

"Hey, you two!" Tommy's voice rang out from the kitchen, startling you out of your reverie. "Glad you could make it," he said, tugging Joel into a hug before giving you a chaste peck on the cheek.

"Um, here," you said, holding out the pie, "didn't want to come empty handed," you explained with a little smile. Tommy's eyes lit up when he took the pan from you and gave the pie a quick sniff.

"Damn, smells good, Sugar," he told you, his cheeks already rosy from the liquor he had been working on before you arrived. He shot Joel a playful look as he headed into the kitchen, handing Maria the dessert. "Your girl can bake, Joel. Lucky man."

The tips of your ears went hot and you looked away uncomfortably before Joel could catch your eye.

"I'll get us a couple drinks," Joel said, ignoring Tommy's comment, much to your relief. "What'dya want?"

You glanced around the room and what the other women were drinking before shrugging and suggesting wine. He followed Tommy over to the living room where they kept their liquor locked up and away from their toddler, who was gleefully playing with another woman you didn't recognize. Popping your head into the kitchen, you spotted Maria all by herself working on dinner.

"Maria," you said with a smile, and she turned around with a sigh of relief.

"Hey, I'm dying here, can you help me?"

"Of course," you said, rolling up your sleeves. "What do you need?"

She put you to work right away, chopping up vegetables and dumping them into boiling water before helping her thicken a sauce she was making for some pasta. You were just about to taste test the product when Joel and Tommy joined you in the kitchen with the drink that he promised.

"Smells so fuckin' good in here," Tommy said loudly before taking a generous sip of whiskey and giving Maria a quick peck on the lips. Joel put your wine glass near you on the counter and you shot him a thankful smile before bringing a spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. You winced and scrunched up your nose and Joel chuckled.

"It's missing something," you explained, putting the spoon back down as you examined the spices available to you while Maria was instructing Tommy on doling out the appetizers.

"Lemme try," he said, rounding the corner to stand next to you. You handed him the spoon and he held up his whiskey. "Hands are full," he told you teasingly, and you rolled your eyes with a grin before dipping the spoon back into the sauce and lifting it to his mouth. He leaned in and wrapped his lips around the spoon, closing his eyes and making a soft noise at the taste. Your knees suddenly felt weak and your face felt hot as you struggled to compose yourself before he caught you.

He opened his eyes slowly and ran his tongue over his upper lip to capture the remnants of the sauce and you had to resist the urge to swipe your thumb over his mustache to gather the rest. It made your breath hitch in your throat and you forced yourself to look away, mentally cursing your body's reaction to him.

"Lemon," he said huskily, then took a sip from his glass while still staring down at you. Your eyes drifted up to his and you saw that look again. The one that made you feel too many things at once: nervousness, excitement, pressure, confusion. So you took a deep breath and squeezed past him, having no choice but to brush up against his chest.

"You're right. It needs lemon," you said, finding one in the mess on Maria's counter and slicing it in half before squeezing it generously over the sauce. Joel leaned against the counter, one arm caging you in from behind as you worked. You tried to ignore how close he was but you could feel his breath on your skin and it was causing your pulse to race. Fortunately, Maria came to your rescue.

"How's it going?" she asked, and Joel pushed off the counter, stepping back to give you both some room.

"Good, I think the sauce is done," you told her, and after she gave it a little taste, her eyes lit up.

"So good!" she said, clearly pleased. You felt your cheeks heat up before gesturing towards Joel.

"Thank Joel. He thought of the lemon."

Maria shot Joel a smile and thanked him as he tipped his glass in her direction before taking another sip. "Happy to help, ladies," he said.

"Go enjoy the party, I got it from here," Maria told you, shooing you away.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind-"

"Yes, I'm sure! I'm just going to plate everything and we're good to go. Help yourself to some appetizers before they're all gone," she said, turning her back on you as she started pulling down serving platters.

You picked up your wine and took a sip, hoping to quell some of your nerves as you let Joel lead you into the living room where the party was in full swing. Tommy had his daughter balancing on his shoulders as he talked to a couple men, their wives at the other end of the room in the middle of a lively conversation. You chewed your lip, glancing back and forth before you took another sip and looked up at Joel.

"Guess I'll go see what's got them all worked up," you told him, nodding your head in the direction of the other women.

"You sure?" he asked with a frown. "Don't want you feelin' uncomfortable. We can stick together if y'want."

You shook your head and stepped away. "I'm fine," you told him before forcing yourself to join the other women. As you approached, you gave the women a friendly wave to catch their attention and they beckoned you towards them with open arms. They all seemed to be around your age range, give or take, and very friendly as they took the time to re-introduce themselves to you. You politely listened to them talk about their kids or jobs while you sipped your wine and nodded along. When three of the women became engrossed in a story about their children and school, you felt yourself begin to zone out. The girl standing next to you, Hannah, caught your eye and smiled.

"Do you have any kids?" you asked her, and she shook her head.

"Not yet. I don't think we're ready, you know?" she said, glancing over your shoulder at her husband. "But one day I think we will. How about you and Joel? What are your plans?" she asked, then her eyes went wide with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. That was a dumb question, you probably don't... ah, I'm such an idiot," she said, and you laughed.

"No, you're not, it's fine," you assured her as her cheeks began to flush.

"I guess I just keep forgetting about your accident. That was so rude of me," she said, "I see you guys together all the time and it seems so normal."

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, watching for a moment as he laughed heartily at something one of the other men said. "Yeah," you told her, turning back around, "I can see why you'd think that."

Her gaze drifted between you and Joel for a moment before she lowered her voice and took a step further away from the other women. "So you still don't remember anything, huh?"

You shook your head sadly. "Nothing. At this point, I'm not expecting anything to come back. I'm just trying to start over."

She nodded solemnly and took a sip from her wine. "How's it going with you two?" she asked, tilting her chin in Joel's direction. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Same old questions, different person.

"Okay, I guess. He's been incredibly patient," you said, "but I think he is still holding out hope that my memory might come back and we'll just pick up right where we left off."

Hannah gave you a sympathetic look right as Maria approached with a big smile stretched across her face. "Dinner is served!" she announced to the room before bending down and stretching her arms out for her daughter.

Everyone began to scatter as couples rejoined and headed towards the dimly lit dining room. Joel appeared by your side, his hand hovering over your lower back as you waited for the other couples to take their seats.

"Havin' a good time?" he murmured, and you gave him a tight smile before nodding. Joel pulled out one of the two remaining chairs for you and you whispered your thanks when you sat down, then he pushed it back in before taking his own seat. He relaxed and stretched his arm across the back of your chair while he listened with amusement to Tommy drunkenly telling a story that had carried over from the living room.

"The table is beautiful, Maria," you told her, leaning away from Joel a bit. "It's so cozy and warm, you really outdid yourself."

She smiled as she bounced her little girl on her knee. "Thanks. We were just itching to do something, you know? We got a little cabin fever, I think."

You felt Joel's thumb brush lightly against your spine, making you shiver. But when you glanced over at him, he was still caught up in listening to Tommy and you wondered if those little gestures were intentional or if it was muscle memory.

Once everyone began to eat, Joel dropped his arm from your chair and you found yourself missing the warmth that radiated from him, confusing yourself even more. Sometimes you just wanted to hit your head against the wall and rattle your memories loose so you could stop feeling so conflicted. If you were this confused, you couldn't imagine what Joel was feeling. Although, at that moment, he seemed to be perfectly content as he stood up with Tommy to get another drink.

"Y'want any more?" Joel asked, nodding to your glass but you shook your head.

"Maybe later," you said, and when he caught your eye he gave you a quick wink before following Tommy back into the living room.

"So, how's it going at the infirmary? Still like it?" Maria asked, drawing your attention back to her.

"Yeah, I do, actually. That was a good idea, I've been meaning to thank you," you said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin. "It feels good to stay busy and I'm learning a lot."

"Well, Nick always speaks so highly of you. Especially after that nasty flu worked its way through town. He said you were a godsend," Maria told you while simultaneously handing her daughter a steamed carrot.

"She was. Worked her tail off all week then had to deal with me when she got home," Joel said as he sat back down with a soft grunt. You smiled at him, grateful for the compliment.

"If he's anything like his brother when he's sick then I'm sure you've earned sainthood status," Maria said to you, making everyone laugh.

"Hey, what're you sayin' 'bout me down there?" Tommy slurred with a grin from the other end of the table. You were fairly certain Maria answered him with some sharp remark which made the table laugh again, but you couldn't exactly remember because Joel dropped his hand to rest on your knee and you suddenly couldn't think straight. Your skin felt hot under his touch, even through your jeans, and you could have sworn the whole room could hear how loudly your heart was pounding in your chest, so you anxiously grabbed your wine glass and finished the rest in one gulp, hoping it would steady your nerves.

You could have asked him to move his hand. You could have made an excuse, gotten up and used the bathroom, but you didn't. You remained perfectly still, allowing his hand to rest on your leg as you tried to focus on the conversation at the table. Because although your mind was saying one thing, your body was always reacting differently.

If you had known what would have ended up happening that night, you would have done something in that moment. Maybe if you had, it would have changed everything.

Instead, you sat there and didn't say a word. You just politely listened to everyone talk with Joel's hand still on your leg while your body and mind waged a war nobody could see.

When Maria stood to hand off her daughter to Tommy and clear the table, you joined her, finally ending Joel's grip on you. The other women stood while the men attempted to help but got shooed into the living room. When all the ladies were alone in the kitchen, Maria pulled out a jar of apple flavored moonshine that she told you all quietly she was hiding from Tommy because it was her favorite before passing it around for everyone to have a taste.

It was strong. Each of you had to stifle your coughs into your hands, which erupted into giggles and eventually caught the attention of the men, so you all did your best to distract them after they curiously poked their heads into the kitchen so Maria could hide the jar once again.

In retrospect, the alcohol didn't do you any favors. Your head was swimming a little by the time dessert was served and you found yourself inadvertently leaning into Joel's shoulder as everyone complimented your pie and he watched you adoringly while you waved off the praise.

The food was amazing, but combined with the drinks, you found your eyelids growing heavy as the party moved back into the living room and Maria took her daughter to bed.

"I think I'm going to get some air," you told Joel while everyone else got comfortable.

"You alright?" he asked, examining your face closely. You nodded.

"Just getting tired," you explained as you took a step towards the door, but he immediately put his glass down.

"Why didn't you say so? We can go home."

"No, it's okay-"

"You've been workin' so hard lately. You need your rest. Go get your things and I'll tell Tommy we're headin' out," he said, refusing to hear another word. And as much as you didn't want to tear him away from the party, you had to agree with him. The past couple weeks were physically draining and it definitely seemed like the exhaustion was catching up with you.

Once Joel announced your departure and everybody bid you good night, you each grabbed your coats and slid on your boots before heading outside. The brisk night air was a shock to the system and it helped wake you up a bit on the walk home. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked, holding you close to him, enveloping you with his warmth and when you inevitably reflected on that night, you would remember that moment as one on a long list of ways you were sending him mixed signals because you didn't pull away. Because as confused as you were about your feelings for him, you couldn't deny the attraction you harbored. And maybe it was partially your fault for not being stronger because you knew, you fucking knew Joel's feelings for you were far deeper than yours that night, and yet you still didn't step away.

When you arrived home and Joel fumbled clumsily with the door, you giggled, making him grin and his eyes light up at the sound before finally shoving the door open and flicking on a light. You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your boots with a sigh, the faint smell of apple pie still lingering in the air. You were happy to be in the comfort of your own home and eager to throw on your pajamas, but Joel led you into the kitchen first and poured you some water. You couldn't help but smile at how reminiscent it was from when he was sick and you did the same thing for him, so you took it and made sure to drink the whole thing while he watched with a pleased expression on his face.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?"

The glass was still pressed against your mouth, the last drops of water just swallowed, and you froze. Slowly, you lowered the glass to the counter and shook your head, unable to look away from his heated stare.

"Well, you did. Lit up the whole place. Prettier than all the other women," he said, fighting to remain still and not pull you into his arms. But he was losing that battle.

"Thank you," you said softly, forcing yourself to look away. It didn't deter him.

"I mean it. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Talkin' 'bout you," he said, watching your face heat up as he blinked slowly. "Lookin' at you," he added after a quiet moment, and you laughed softly while you crossed your arms protectively over your chest.

"Joel..." you began, not even sure what you planned to say so you opted for staring blankly out the window just so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye.

"What, baby?" he murmured, taking a bold step forward and pinching your chin with his fingers. You dragged your gaze back up to him just to find his dark brown eyes all wide and filled with hope and tenderness as he stared down at you, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, clearly displaying his intention but you still didn't step away. Your body wouldn't let you move.

"We're both drunk," you told him, trying to remain rational. Trying to stay clear-headed.

"Not that drunk," he quickly countered, his eyes still roaming your face, his fingers still pressing into your chin and you could feel your heart flutter wildly. Why on earth couldn't your mind catch up with your body?

You sighed, partially from the exhaustion, partially from the inability to properly express yourself but he took it to mean something else. He heard your sigh and thought you were finally giving in. That you were finally going to let him kiss you. Because why else wouldn't you have pulled away?

He leaned forward, his eyes slid shut, and although you should have known it was coming, it still surprised you. Your eyes stayed open wide as he inched towards you and finally at the very last second, you tilted your face to the side, causing him to press his lips against your cheek instead.

You felt his reaction before you could see it. His lips immediately tensed against your skin and his breathing stalled. Then his hand dropped from your chin and he leaned back, eyes no longer warm and inviting.

You tightly pressed your lips together in shame. "Joel, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," he said quickly, cutting you off and backing away.

The hurt was evident across his face, although he tried to hide it by averting his gaze.

"I just don't think I'm there yet," you said after a long, tense moment. "I'm trying-"

"Yeah, I know," he replied harshly, turning on his heel and marching out of the kitchen. "I know you're tryin' to force yourself to love me. It's gotta be real hard, I get it," he spat, his voice so cold it made you shudder as he shoved his boots back on.

You choked back a sob as you watched him grab his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know," was all he said before flinging the door open and storming out, leaving you all alone in the entryway with tears slowly streaking down your cheeks.

What an absolute fucking idiot he was.

What was he thinking? That you would magically find him attractive again? Love him again? That he was worthy of your time and care and attention? After everything he did?

You didn't know, of course, but what else could it be, other than fate? Or karma? Or whatever it was, coming back and erasing all your memories of him to set things right? Because did he ever really deserve you in the first place?

No, definitely not. Not after everything he did.

His legs carried him blindly to the Tipsy Bison. It was a quiet night, and maybe had he been in the right frame of mind, he would have been surprised. Most of the town was cooped up the past couple weeks, under normal circumstances he would have thought it would be busier, but at that moment in time, he didn't care. He only cared about one thing: he needed to forget.

He motioned for Seth and he nodded in acknowledgment before pouring him his usual whiskey and setting it down. Joel snatched it up and immediately downed it with a wince before pushing the empty glass towards Seth.

"Another, please," he muttered before burying his face in his hands with a groan. Seth eyed him suspiciously before pouring his second drink and setting it back down on the bar.

Joel let the glass sit there a few minutes while he stewed in his anger. He wanted to blame you, but he couldn't. Not really. He knew it wasn't your fault but, fuck, he just wanted you back. He was so goddamn lonely that it made his chest hurt. He rubbed it absentmindedly before picking up his glass and forcing himself to take a slow sip. He had already drank too much at Tommy's and if he didn't want to wake up with a massive hangover, he had to slow down.

"Hey, cowboy," a familiar, flirty voice suddenly said from beside him. He tilted his head to the side and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

"Angie."

She smirked and pulled up a tall barstool, scooting her way up with a little grunt that made his stomach clench as he watched her maneuver in her tight jeans.

"What's got you so blue?" she purred as she took a sip from her drink and crossed her legs, her foot coming dangerously close to touching his calf.

"Who said I was blue?" he asked gruffly before taking another swig of whiskey.

She laughed softly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Kind of hard to miss," she said, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him expectantly.

His eyebrows furrowed at her but she noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched and she bit her lip playfully.

"C'mon, what's the matter? You can tell me, baby," she cooed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Don't call me that."

Angie pouted and leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear when she whispered, "Oh, that's right. How could I forget? You prefer daddy."

"Knock it off," he growled, turning away from her and ignoring the stirring below his waist, but it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.

She rested her delicate hand on his forearm and his muscles twitched, but he didn't move. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed being touched. And in that moment, any touch would do. She smiled and slid her hand up his arm slowly, and he let her, his eyes fixed somewhere in the opposite direction as he tried with all his might to ignore it, to fight it, to stand up and fucking leave, but he couldn't do it.

"So tense," she murmured in his ear, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can help with that, y'know." Her hand dropped from his shoulder to his lap and had Joel's eyes been open, he would have seen Seth's eyes widen in surprise before looking away. "We're real good at it, remember?" she continued, her fingers inching towards the seam of his jeans. But before she could reach between his legs, his hand grabbed her wrist.

"Stop it," he said weakly, forcing his eyes open to glare at her, but she just smiled sweetly at him and pulled her hand back.

"I need to use the restroom," she said, her voice sultry. "You remember where the ladies' room is, right?" she asked with a wink before sliding off the stool and swinging her hips as she strolled down the hall towards the bathroom. He groaned and rubbed his face roughly.

He wasn't sure how it happened. He wanted to blame the whiskey, he wanted to blame you, but at the end of the day it was all on him when he found himself shoving open the door to the women's room and crowding Angie against the sink, his mouth crashing down on hers hungrily.

It was only one tiny minute of weakness. When he realized his mistake, when he remembered her lips weren't anything compared to yours, when her noises were not the noises he wanted to hear, her touch not the touch he craved, he immediately stopped kissing her, pulling back and cursing under his breath.

Angie looked at him, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed, then took a step forward but he held up his hand.

"No," he said a bit too loudly, the whiskey making his head swim as he stumbled backwards towards the door. She rolled her eyes and grinned.

"C'mon, Joel. When are you going to realize she's not coming back? You need to move on," Angie said sweetly. Too sweetly. "You deserve to be happy," she added, and he frowned when the enormity of what he had done dawned on him through his drunken haze.

"Stay away from me," he warned her, reaching for the door and yanking it open.

"Fine. But just remember: you followed me in here!" she shouted after him as he disappeared down the hall. He snatched his coat from his barstool and jogged towards the exit.

He had to get home.

The carpet should have been worn to the floorboards by the time Joel finally came back. You had been pacing around the living room, chewing on your fingernails nervously as you replayed the entire evening in your head. The guilt was fucking suffocating you. You couldn't help but feel like you were partially to blame, but you would have broken his heart if you let him kiss you without fully understanding how you felt first, and he didn't deserve that. Maybe once he cooled down, he would understand.

When you heard his slow, heavy footsteps walking up the porch stairs, your heart leapt into your throat. The door creaked open slowly, as if he expected you to be asleep and he was trying to be quiet, but when he closed the door and saw you standing in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped around yourself, his face contorted into a grimace.

"You're still up," he said, voice a little raspy as he hung up his coat.

"Joel, I'm so sorry," you began, "I'm just so confused. I'm still trying to work out my feelings but I don't want to rush into something and risk hurting you."

He swallowed and hung his head in shame, unable to look at you.

"Please don't apologize," he whispered, but you kept going.

"Of course I'm going to apologize. I sent you mixed signals and I ended up hurting you anyway."

"I did somethin'," he blurted out, and you froze mid-sentence, waiting for him to elaborate. Silence filled the room, your eyes drifted around aimlessly before you sunk down onto the edge of the couch and tucked your hands under your thighs.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice wavering when you realized he still hadn't looked you in the eye.

He took a steadying breath and propped his hands on his hips, his face still angled shamefully towards the floor. "I kissed someone else."

His words hung heavy in the air, your deep, ragged breaths the only sound filling the room as your tired mind tried to make sense of what he just said.

"What?" you finally asked, voice deathly quiet. He forced himself to look at you now, his dark eyes brimming with tears.

"It was a mistake-" he began, voice thick with emotion, tongue heavy and clumsy between his teeth, but you stopped him.

"Just now?" you asked incredulously, your stomach turning sour. Fighting the nausea back down with a harsh swallow, you spoke again. "You tried to kiss me, I shot you down and you just... went out and found someone else?"

"That's not what I left to do, it just happened-"

"Who?" you asked, your gaze stony as you continued to stare at him, anguish and regret flickering across his face.

"Does it matter?" he tried weakly, softly, but it just pissed you off even more.

"Yes," you hissed, slowly standing back up on now shaky legs. "Who, Joel?"

His throat bobbed and he shifted his weight and when he mumbled Angie's name, you saw red.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you whispered, quickly closing the gap between you and shoving him hard against the chest, causing him to stumble back in shock. When he looked you in the eyes, all glassy and cold and distraught, his blood felt like ice in his veins.

He was losing you.

"Please, lemme just explain-"

"What could you possibly have to say?!" you exclaimed, your body growing hot with rage. Hands shaking so badly you had to cross your arms to hide the tremor. "I was taking too long to fuck you so you went out and found a sure thing?"

"I didn't fuck her, but I could've!" he yelled back, an angry vein popping out of his neck at his sudden outburst. Your eyes went wide and you took a step back in surprise. He didn't know why he was yelling. He knew it wouldn't help, but he just snapped. "I never once pressured you to sleep with me! I gave you your space an-and respected your boundaries," he was flailing now, his thoughts scattered as he desperately tried to make sense. "But I'm a human fuckin' being and I got drunk and I was lonely and I made a fuckin' mistake! And I'm sorry, alright?!"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "You're lonely," you repeated, the words like poison on your tongue, and he frowned. "What about me? I'm lonely, too! You know what the first question is out of everyone's mouth ever since my accident?" you asked, glaring up at him, anger rolling off both your bodies. "They ask me how you're doing. You! Like this was some tragedy that only happened to you! But I lost fucking everything in the blink of an eye!" Tears began to burn the backs of your eyes now but you pushed on. "My world literally turned upside down in an instant and everyone just kept waiting for me to get with the program, including you!"

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head angrily, "I never pressured you to do anythin'!"

"It's the way you look at me!" you cried, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You don't even realize you're doing it but you keep looking at me, expecting to find the woman you fell in love with but she's gone, Joel!"

You both fell silent, staring at one another, shoulders heaving as you each sat with the weight of your words.

"I don't care," he finally said, lowering his voice. "I still love you. I told you that first day. What we got is rare and special and I'm not givin' up on us."

"Then how could you go kiss someone else the first time there's a bump in the road?" you asked, tone hurt and dejected, then you turned and headed up the stairs.

"I told you, it was a mistake," he pleaded, following you. "I'm so sorry... wait, what're you doin'?" he asked when he realized he had followed you into your room. You were snatching clothes from the drawers and tossing them onto your bed, and that's when he really began to panic.

"I can't stay here," you said, disappearing into the bathroom. His vision narrowed and his legs became weak as fear flooded his veins.

"No," he whispered, but you didn't hear him. You were busy gathering a few toiletries from the bathroom and tossing them on the bed along with your clothes, but when you walked past him to get a bag, he grabbed your arm.

"Don't do this," he begged. You yanked your arm out of his grip and stepped back, glaring at him and he realized in that moment he would rather have you there screaming at him for the rest of the night than not have you there at all, so he kept talking. He kept pushing.

"Y'know, for someone who says she doesn't have feelin's for me, you sure seem to be pretty pissed off," he glowered, and your eyes widened. That's it, he thought, let me have it. "If you don't want me, if you don't give a shit 'bout me, then what the hell does it matter if someone else does?"

You gasped, his words like a punch to the gut. Like a blade to your heart. Without thinking, your arm swung back and your palm cracked loudly against his cheek, stunning you both into silence.

He wanted to rub the spot, to help soothe the pain with the tips of his fingers, but he resisted. Instead, he let his cheek redden so you were forced to see what you did.

"You think I don't give a shit about you?" you seethed once you found your voice, palm stinging at your side, eyes flickering between his eyes and his cheek.

"Sure seems that way," he countered, and your jaw clenched angrily as the next round of tears began to well up.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you yelled, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "How dare you. You made me give a shit about you, you asshole!"

You shoved past him and headed down the hall to the spare room in search of a duffel bag, but Joel was hot on your trail. If he let you leave, he would never get you back.

"The hell does that even mean?"

You whipped around, making him stumble backwards, your eyes wild and bloodshot. "You told me you would make me fall in love with you again! This whole time we've been getting to know each other, building up our relationship and you think after all that, after everything we've shared, that I don't give a shit about you?"

"Well-" he began, but you cut him off.

"I took care of you when you were sick. I sat next to your bed for a full week, waiting for you to fall asleep, making sure you had everything you needed," you said, your voice growing quiet as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. "You told me about your daughter. I told you about my brother," you whimpered, your voice cracking on the last word. Joel's face fell when he finally realized how broken you were, the full weight of his actions realized. "How could you say that to me?" you sobbed, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks hot and wet in your palms. Your head ached. Your heart ached. You needed this to end.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," he told you, stepping forward and pulling you into his arms. You only let yourself melt against his broad chest for a moment before you sniffled and pushed him away. Turning around, you snatched the bag from the ground and stormed past him.

"Tell me how to fix it," he pleaded as he followed you back into your room.

"You can't."

His head was pounding, throat scratchy and dry as he watched you pack from the doorway, his chest tightening with each article of clothing that passed through your hands.

"Please. Stay. I-I-I won't even talk to you if that's what you want, just please stay."

You paused, your eyes squeezing shut as you silently cried over your bag. "You want me to stay, Joel?" you asked, voice trembling, and even though weren't looking, he nodded.

"I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly, and you opened your eyes. Reaching for your journal, you flipped it open to a well worn page and tossed it on the bed. He frowned at it, confused, but stepped forward and picked it up.

"Then tell me what you lied about."

His eyes scanned the page, reading the four words over and over. Joel lied to me. No context, but he didn't need any. He knew.

You could see the conflict in his face as he tried to figure out a way around it.

"The truth. Or I'm gone," you said firmly, and when his eyes flicked up to yours, you saw fear.

He slowly turned around, the journal held delicately in his massive hands, as he sat down onto the edge of your mattress.

"Okay."

The shock made your tears slow to a stop.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he repeated, his tone somber as he stared down at your journal in his lap. "What's the difference now, anyway? You already hate me."

I don't hate you, you thought, but you remained silent.

"If I tell you, you promise not to leave?" he clarified, and you thought about it for a moment. What if it was something really bad? But you knew you wouldn't get the truth out of him any other way, so you nodded. You figured if you still left and ended up becoming a liar, then at least you would be even.

"I told you 'bout the Fireflies," he began, and you got the feeling the story was going to be long so you sat down on the bed.

"Yes."

"You, Ben 'n Lisa were all part of a group out in Salt Lake City," he said, his gaze pinned on the journal. "In a hospital. Doin' research."

"Research? I don't know anything about-"

"You weren't doin' the research. The three of you were just guards. Patrolmen. There were doctors there, and they were lookin' for a cure," he continued, then took a deep breath before lifting his chin and staring at a fixed point on your wall.

"Did they find one?" you asked, remembering that first day when Joel told you about the outbreak. You had asked him at the time if there was cure and he said no. That couldn't be the lie, could it?

"Well, they were close," he said, his brow pinching together. "This next part is somethin' that's gotta stay in this house, y'hear me?" he asked, finally turning to look at you. "Y'gotta promise me that no matter what you end up thinkin' of me, you can't tell anyone 'bout this part."

You didn't want to make that promise. Why would you, after everything he had put you through? But, still, you found yourself nodding slowly, then his next sentence knocked all the air from your lungs.

"Ellie's immune."

Your lips slowly parted as the shock coursed through you, your eyes slowly drifting down to the comforter. Your mind was blank except for Ellie's immune, Ellie's immune playing on a constant loop.

"It's why you didn't write anythin' else, I reckon," he explained, holding up your journal. "Didn't want anyone to find it."

You slowly began to put the pieces together. A research hospital. Ellie's immunity. They were close to a cure.

"The Fireflies thought they could use Ellie to create a vaccine," he said after a long pause. "And I took her to 'em. Took her right into the lion's den," he said with a dry chuckle. "Didn't realize til after they took her that they would've had to... kill her to get what they needed."

Your eyes darted up to meet his again as you listened, entranced.

"Nobody knows, okay?" he said, his voice wavering a bit. "Only Tommy. No one else can know. Her life depends on it, d'you understand?"

You nodded, still unable to find your voice, so he continued.

"When I realized what they were doin', that they would have to kill her, I just..." he trailed off and scratched his chin, looking away, eyes distant. "I lost it. It's the only way to describe it."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I killed alotta people," he said, voice cold and detatched, "alotta fuckin' people. Whoever got in my way, I just... didn't think twice. 'Til you."

You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting you were somewhere in that hospital.

"Me?" you squeaked.

"You didn't see my face," he said, his voice beginning to shake. "None of you did. The three of you were together. You surrendered. Had you face down on the ground with your hands behind your head. Told me you were plannin' on ditchin' the Fireflies anyway. That you wouldn't come after me." His hand trembled in his lap and he made a fist.

"You weren't the first ones to say that to me, but you were the first ones I let live."

You pressed your palms into your face, trying to quell the ache behind your eyes as you rocked gently back and forth on the bed, heart thundering in your chest, blooding pumping too fast. The exhaustion was too much. You could hardly make sense of what he was saying.

"You almost killed me," you said, more of a statement than a question, your voice muffled through your hands.

"Yeah." He watched you carefully, trying to read you, desperately searching for some small glimmer of hope underneath all your rage and confusion.

"Then what?" you forced yourself to ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He ticked his jaw to the side and looked away.

"Then... Ellie 'n me came here. Started over. Tried to forget," he sniffed, pulling at a loose string on his shirt. "Then the three of you showed up couple months later. Scared the fuckin' shit outta me, but none of you seemed to recognize me."

"Because we never saw you," you said, and he nodded.

"I didn't speak to you for over a month. I was so scared you'd recognize my voice or somethin', but I just couldn't stay away from you," he said, his eyes softening now. "Then that night at the bar happened. When you came up to me and-"

"Yeah, I remember what you told me," you replied, not eager to relive that story at the moment.

"Then the rest is history. We started messin' around. You didn't know who I was for a few months, then I finally told you."

"After you were already fucking me," you said coldly, and he winced.

"After I fell in love with you."

You sat back and rubbed your eyes. You had so many questions. What was your reaction when you first learned who he was? If you stuck around, you must have seen something in Joel that made you feel safe. Why did he spare you? Was it only because you couldn't identify him? And how much did Ellie know?

"Please say somethin'," he begged after a few tense, quiet minutes.

"What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your shoulders sagging forward, limbs too heavy. "You want me to forgive you? You want me to say I understand?" He shook his head but you kept talking.

"You spared my life just to break my heart."

He turned away from you as his face crumpled. "I'm gonna fix it," he said, his throat tight and voice thick as he fought off the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. "I'm gonna make it right, if you just-"

"Can you go, please?" you asked quietly, "I have nothing else to say and I'm fucking tired."

He looked over at you but you refused to look up, your puffy eyes fixed blankly on the floor. His gaze drifted to the bag and clothes littering your bed and he asked, "Are you stayin'?"

You didn't answer. You just slowly stood up and flung your comforter back, some of your clothes falling into a heap on the floor but you didn't care as you crawled into bed and turned your back to him.

Begrudgingly, he stood. His eyes flicked around your room nervously, his fingers fidgeting at his sides while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to come up with the right words to say.

"Go!" you sobbed from underneath your blankets, hiding from him the tears that were soaking your sheets.

So, he left. Not because he wanted to, but because he caused you enough agony for one night, and as much as he wanted to stay and beg on his knees for forgiveness, it would be the selfish thing to do. Instead, he went to his bed and stared at the ceiling, barely sleeping the entire night because his body jerked awake at every little creak the old house made, wondering when he woke up, if you would be gone for good.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

A/N: Yes, there will be a happy ending 😘

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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bigfatbimbo · 1 month

Note

Could you do Dom reader edging and degrading vox because she discovered what he did to sir pentious?(when vox told sir pentious to go kill himself)

Thank you and have An amazing day <3

a/n — I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM. I have mean things to say.

warnings — dom reader, sub vox, reader gets like.. actually cruel, kind of edging, small use of mommy

summary — Vox finally gets a punishment for being the fucking worst to literally everyone (in this case sir pentious)

“Your one terrible piece of shit, you know that Vox?” You ride his dick with an intense overwhelming speed, making Vox cry out below you.

“Wait, fffuck! Slow down, god,” Vox whines and squirms from underneath you.

“Aw, can you not handle it? Can you not handle this one thing?” Your words are fake-sweet and laced with venom, “Y’know there are two words for people like you.”

“Oh come on—“ Vox tugs against the ropes around his hands but is cut off with a yelp when you slam your pussy onto his dick. He moans loudly.

“It’s on the tip of my tongue, ever since you used the phrase so eloquently earlier,” you explain further, once again with the insincere tone. He winces for impact, expecting a harsh blow from your words.

But it’s hard to prepare himself when you’re rocking against his cock so rough.

”Oh that’s right! I know what you are,” You say, kind voice dropping and grimacing down at him, “Vox, you’re a miserable failure.”

He cries loudly at your words, expecting them to only get meaner from here. “I wasn’t even that bad, y/n, wait—“

“Oh you weren’t that bad? What makes you think you can act like that?” He tried to shut his eyes and lean his head back into the pillow but up grab that corner of his screen aggressively, “Look at me when i’m talking to you, slut.”

He obeys glumly, biting his lip to hold back from letting out needy whines. How could you be so put together when you were slamming onto his dick so hard. He remember your words from the beginning of the session, though; ‘be a good boy and don’t cum until I tell you to. Maybe then i’ll be nicer.’

He’d laughed it off at first, but there was nothing but mocking distain in your eyes that shot right to his heart, and to his dick.

“You’re such a pretentious asshole. And you wonder why you’re hated. You make me sick. You think you can treat people like that because you’re so insecure you need constant higher ground? That’s fucking pathetic,” you hiss down at him.

He frowns and whimpers desperately, beginning to glitch out and release a high buzzing noise from his head.

“No, no, no, ‘m not!” He tries to sit up slightly, not only held down by the restraints around his wrists but forced back when you harshly shove his chest into the mattress.

“Whores only speak when they’re told they can. I hate to break it you, but you don’t have the higher ground here. I know just how pathetic, and useless, and desperate for validation you are,” You growl, “It’s fucking embarrassing.”

This makes tears prick in the corner of his eyes and he shakes his head vigorously.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re not denying it are you? Because that would make you useless and a liar. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” He shakes his head and whines loudly, “No? Oh, then you should probably act like less of a brat, you dumb slut.”

Now, the tears finally started falling across his stream and he moans, choking on his own sobs and buffering noises, “Please, i’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’ll be nice I swear. Please stop being so mean I need—“

“I need for you to stop bitching and take what you deserve, just like the bitch you are,” You hump his dick with excruciating rhythm, “And now you’re a crybaby too, and that’s not a good look.”

He gives up trying to defend himself and cries quietly, “I wanna—bzzz—be your good boy. I’ll do anything, mommy, please!”

“Aw, there’s nothing you can do, baby. Nothing you can do when you’re such a shitbag by nature.” You remark cruelly, “Aren’t you a shitbag?”

He nods dumbly and whines, “Mommy, ‘m sorry. ‘m sorry, i’ll be better. Please be nice to me, I can’t—“

This time you don’t have to shut him up because he cuts himself off why buffering and sending a shock up both of your bodies.

“Don’t get carried away now, Vox. We wouldn’t want you hurting anyone else.”

a/n — Anyways and then you had to kiss it better after hours of degrading him because he was still crying after you guys were finished.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #dom reader #vox smut #vox x you #sub vox

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 month

Text

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #Dolly writes #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #everlasting sweetheart #eddie munson x reader smut #older!eddie smut

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vinnellamadz · 2 months

Note

Enemies to lovers Adam x f!reader?

Enemies to Lovers

Adam X Reader

A/N: I shed blood, sweat and tears making this. SORRY IF ITS OOC this is my first real fic Adam is a PAIN to write.

You were never really able to get along with Adam. From the moment Adam arrived in heaven, the two of you were always at each other's throats.

Adam would always pick fights over the smallest things, and it was always enough to make you bite back. There wasn't a single day that he couldn't get under your skin and make fun of you. Calling you names, competing with you, and just being a general pain in your ass.

Today was the day of the first-second extermination of the year.

Adam was off giving his soldiers a 'pep talk', but before he flew off to this hazbin hotel, he came to you first.

As always, he made sure to get his daily insults in before he left, tearing into you with his words, ensuring you knew just how inferior and pathetic he deemed you. His snarky and playful tone only served to aggravate you further. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you snapped back, 'Oh, shut up! I hope you never return, Adam!' His initial shock quickly gave way to a smug grin. 'Calm your pretty little head, babe,' he retorted, his arrogance undeterred as he continued to prattle on about himself."

You weren't even listening; His annoying voice was easy to block out.

“plus I know you’ll miss me, I fuckin’ rock, I’m THE Adam” he pointed to himself keeping that stupid shit eating smile he always had, god you wanted to punch him so bad but couldn't, as you feared you would get sent to hell so you slammed the door in his face instead.

Later that night, you were sitting on your heavenly comfy couch, enjoying the latest episodes of your favorite shows. You were just about to fall asleep when a frantic knock jolted you from the cushions. With a tinge of fear, you approached the door, thinking, 'This is heaven; this couldn’t be bad, right?' As you opened the door and peeked out, you were shocked to see Adam, but he was far from his usual self. Covered in golden blood and bearing multiple stab wounds, he looked as though he had been through hell. (Lol) Without hesitation, you flung the door open, calling out, 'Adam!' before he collapsed on your doorstep.

It had been a while since you found Adam. Earlier, you had managed to drag him to your couch. As you attempted to patch him up, you discovered several more wounds scattered across his body. Shocked by the extent of his injuries, you couldn't help but wonder who could have inflicted such damage.

hours have passed since the surprise at your doorstep. You had fallen asleep on the floor beside him. When you woke up, he had yet to awaken, Panic gripped your heart as you reached out to shake him gently, wondering if he had actually died in his sleep. (double dead) You placed your finger beneath his nose, relieved to feel the subtle rise and fall of his breath. 'Why do I even care so much...' you pondered, a mix of emotions swirling within you.

More hours had passed, and as you were making lunch for yourself, you heard him make a sound. Turning around, you saw that he had finally woken up. “What the fuck am I doing here?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. “You came to me, Adam. You're hurt.” Upon hearing your words, he winced and attempted to sit up, but a wave of pain washed over him, causing him to groan. Reacting quickly, you rushed to his side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to ease him back down. 'Lay down, Adam,' you said softly, concern evident in your voice. “You're going to make it worse if you push yourself too hard.” Adam groaned with displeasure as you stood up and started walking back to the kitchen. However, something he said made you stop in your tracks.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You froze in surprise. 'What?' Slowly, you turned to him, a shocked expression on your face. “Excuse me? How hard did you hit your head?”

You stood there in silence as he just stared at you “… I’m just fucking with you… dumb b-bitch…” he looked away in embarrassment, you stared at him with a shocked look ‘doesn’t sound like was a joke..’

“I can do it myself!” He argued.

"If you move, you'll probably explode or die. Stop it!" You were trying your best to care for him these past few days, but he's just such a pain in the ass. Currently, you were trying to feed him, but he kept turning his head away, stubborn as ever. Fed up with his behavior and the frustration boiling inside you, you finally snapped. With determination, you grabbed hold of his head, locking eyes with him. "Just eat it, damn it!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice as you forcefully shoved the spoon into his mouth. Finally, he relented and ate it, although begrudgingly.

“I’d rather you shove your-“

“Shut the fuck up”

“Moody Bitch…”

You scoffed at his remarks, striding over to him and motioning for him to sit up, to which he obliges. "Take your shirt off," you instruct. He smirks in response. "Don't give me that look; you know what I mean." His smirk fades into annoyance as he complies with your request. Gently removing his bandages required getting close, and you carefully unwrap them before swiftly replacing them with fresh ones, wrapping them around his body with precision and care.

"You look really pretty down there" he grins at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration. You blush in response, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected compliment.

Wanna know a secret?" He said, catching your attention. You looked at him with a confused expression, but slowly nodded, curiosity piqued.

"you know I live alone right now? No one's going to—" Your words were cut off as you felt his hand grasp your face, Before you could react, his lips met yours in a sudden, electrifying kiss, sending a rush of warmth through your body.

Adam pulled away, leaving you stunned and bewildered by the sudden rush of conflicting emotions.

"You make it so damn difficult to hate you," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of something deeper, something you couldn't quite decipher. As you stood there, grappling with the unexpected confession, you realized that perhaps there was more to your relationship than just rivalry. With a mixture of uncertainty and expanding hope, you met his gaze, silently acknowledging the unspoken possibility of a new beginning between two former enemies turned potential lovers.

This was so hard goodbye. It’s so OOC I’m soo sorry I tried to rush the end to put this out faster 😭

#adam x reader #adam x reader hazbin #hazbin #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #helluva boss #hazbin adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader hazbin hotel

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s1utlvr · 3 months

Text

I know places ↟

Clarisse La rue X reader

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING?? But I’m yeah here’s this heavily Taylor swift inspired some heated making out but nothing more cliffhanger enjoy or don’t idk man

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Dating Clarisse La rue was a bad idea.

It’s all anyone could tell you the moment you fell for her, even Clarisse herself tried to talk you out dating her.

But there was nothing she could do or say that could make you not want her.

The way her lips felt against yours, the way her hands brushed against your body, the way she made you felt when it was just you and her, no amount of rumors could change the way you felt about her.

“Loose lips sink ships all the damn time, but not this time.”

Tonight was a night like any other, you were at the bonfire grabbing a drink your girlfriends hands on your waistline and like always the vultures that were your fellow campers had some things to say.

They’d never say anything not to your faces atleast everyone was too scared of Clarisse, but the way they stared made it seem like you two were monsters begging to be hunted. You tried not to care but that part just always seemed to infuriate you.

“Wandering eyes?” Your girlfriend whispered into your ear noticing your expression.

You nodded rolling your eyes and then moving your eyes back onto your girlfriend.

“Hey you wanna go somewhere?” You asked sipping at your drink trying to get rid of the feeling that you were prey to your peers.

“Is it that bad?” She asked her hand moving and making its way to cup your cheek.

“No it’s just-gods it pisses me off like it’s been months and this shit is still happening” you said a bit of frustration in your voice. Clarisse hated seeing you like this but she had to admit, you’re hot when you’re angry.

“Where’d you have in mind?”

“I know places”

“After you then” Clarrise smirked chucking your cup into the trash before following closely behind you into the forest.

You had discovered this spot your first day at camp while trying to find your way around for the first time. What you thought was a shortcut turned out to be a path straight to a creek deep into the forest, you were lost for two hours until your protector found you. The creek was calming, secluded, even when your were lost. And since that day had been your spot. Once you and clarisse got together you were more than glad to share it with her. Sure you had plenty of spots but this was your favorite, you knew no one could ever get to you here.

You sat down against a rock by the water clarisse following next to you as you watched the moonlights reflection on the water.

“I thought people would’ve moved on by now” you said as you shifted to look at your girlfriend resting your head on her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t stop talking about you either” She teased.

“You know what I mean” you scoffed. “Why do people have to care so much about who I date?”

“Well it’s hard not to be obsessed with you” Clarisse said pulling you closer so you were on top of her.

“You’re impossible” you chuckled as you rolled your eyes at her, her hands resting comfortably on your waist.

“Ouch?” She said as she dramatically clutched her heart. “You sound just like them”

“Well most of the rumors are true aren’t they?” You laughed as she pulled you in the feeling of your lips pressed together sending electricity through your body before she pulled away, her breath heavy as she spoke.

“Please you know wouldn’t trade this for the world, it’s always gonna be me.”

It was true. You’d hide from the world for the rest of your life if you could feel like this forever.

Her hand moved up to your waist as she pulled you back in continuing to kiss you. You could tell she was desperate, needy, she wanted to shut everyone out just as much as you did.

It was cause of this that it came as a surprise when she pulled away abruptly.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered panically

“Hear what-?”

The sound of leaves crunching filled the forest.

Shit.shit shit shit. was all could think as you tried to get off of her. Was it an animal? Was it a monster? Was it a person? How long had it been there?

The sound of leaves got closer.

“Come on” she whispered looking behind the rock you two were sitting against.

“Where?” You asked frantically.

“Just grab my hand and don’t ever drop it.”

#clarisse la rue #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #clarisse x reader #luv aubrey <33

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months

Note

Spooky season needs spooky stuff.. >:3

So can I request the digital circus cast (minus Caine)meeting a Child Spirit Y/n headcanons,who like Kinda possesed/went inside the game to find they’re killer for some reason? They are eerily quiet and like to stare but if talked to very sweet but quick to snap in distrust because..well trust is what got them killed in the first place? They’re a bit bloody..and a eyeball sometimes hangs out?? Like vhs horror stuff

Sorry I’m being so descriptive,I hope you are a nice day!

OOOoo yes time for more spooks!

Also I am having a nice night, thanks! (and I hope you are having a nice day/night too!)

......

Pomni

To make a long story short, you got murdered while wearing the headset, and that tethered your spirit to TADC.

As expected, you lost memories of who you were--except for the knowledge that someone killed you because you trusted them too much, and you believed the answers were inside this very game.

Your character ends up looking like a child's ghost costume: a white bedsheet stained in blood and one of your eyeballs occasionally wanting to pop from its socket.

Caine (who was very much bewildered at your arrival) declares that you're part of an "exclusive Halloween update" and changes up the tent and grounds to have more spooky flair.

But Pomni clearly wants no part of it, and she can tell you don't either.

You're clearly a kid who is (somehow) handling the situation of being stuck in this game better than her, yet when she tries asking you about it....all you do is stare back.

She swears she can hear static noises and whispers she can't decipher--all in all getting a...very creepy vibe from you.

Initially she decides to keep her distance, afraid you were secretly some virus or Abstraction underneath that sheet.

But that changes when you're walking by the rooms one night, and you pass by Pomni's door, hearing her quietly crying.

Although you weren't inclined to get close to anybody here, you were concerned. And since you weren't actually coded into the game, you didn't have to follow any of its rules--and that allowed you to enter her room without a key.

At first you scared the shit out of her, but after realizing it's you, she lets you sit beside her, eventually venting about how badly she missed her real home.

"Everyone keeps telling me "oh this place is so much better" or "get used to it"...but what if I don't wanna do that? I don't care if my old life was bad...I-I can't take anymore of this.." Her sobs grow louder. "I wanna wake up in my own bed knowing my real name!!"

"...I miss home, too," is all you say in response. Yet it's more than enough to calm her down.

For once, you're not trying to brush her off or force her to "cheer up" and accept her reality. You made her feel heard.

"Yeah..me, too....sh-should I thank you for agreeing..?" She sniffles, seeing your subtle nod, before you leave her be, not wanting to get too attached.

Ironically, she was able to sleep a little easier after talking to you.

Jax

From the get-go, he's gonna be real nosy and curious.

Since not even Caine himself expected your arrival and found out that you don't follow the "rules" like everyone else...Jax is gonna try his damnedest to understand you and see what makes you tick.

But he's gonna be disappointed quickly since you don't respond much to him (or anybody in general).

"So...ya like Halloween?"

"........"

"....thought so. Good talk, new kid."

You definitely act like a legit ghost--doing nothing but stare, move things around, and pop up unexpectedly.

Eventually, his curiosity leads to him visiting your room (which has no key), and he discovers many drawings on the walls.

Most depicting a dead person wearing a headset.

What he found most disturbing was a journal that contained his and the others' names..

From what he's gathering...you're suspecting one of them of murdering your real world-self.

But he doesn't get much time to ponder this as you show up, angry at him for intruding.

You make yourself look even bloodier and scarier, with both of your eyeballs hanging from their sockets and staring at him.

"Get out."

Those two simple words put the fear of god in him.

Jax runs out faster than a jackrabbit, colliding with Gangle in the process. Her comedy mask falls off again, but he catches it and looks at her.

"J-Jax..?" She realizes his fur is standing up on all ends, and he looks terrified....even more than he did after realizing the circus was his forever home.

But he just shoves the mask back into her hands and leaves without saying a word.

He never speaks of what he found in your room that day.

Kinger

He thought his eyes were weird...until you came along and periodically had to put your own eyeball back into its socket.

"It's good to know I'm not alone!" He nervously chuckles, only to be met with your eerie silence.

Sometime later, he suggests showing you his insect collection, and it does pique your interest.

You did love all things "creepy" and "crawly".

Yet you're adamant about going to his pillow fortress after he invites you.

It reminds you of the ones you used to build all the time, up until...

Fortunately, Kinger recognizes your reluctance and just brings one of his bug boxes to you so you can look at it.

He could infodump about the various critters for hours, with nothing but nods and quiet "mhms" from you, and he's happy.

In general, he doesn't mind your quiet personality.

Although you still sometimes jumpscare him unintentionally like Gangle often does.

Tbh he's a good father figure and recognizes that you're just a kid who got trapped in this game unfairly.

Even so, you try to keep your distance and looks at him suspiciously if he starts acting too nice.

He was quiet aloof, and you weren't sure how he would act on any given day.

Gangle

After accidentally spooking her (by simply existing in the same room as her), she breaks her comedy mask off.

But immediately she feels guilty for screaming and tries scrambling to fix it, hoping you weren't mad at her.

Yet all you do is stare, not looking angry or anything at all (it's hard for any of the performers to see your expression in general, aside from your hanging eye, but still).

Poor Gangle is just afraid you'd turn into a scarier version of yourself.

When she keeps cutting her ribbon fingers(?) on the ceramic pieces, you come over and clean it up for her, taking it away despite your own hands bleeding.

The implications that you were able to shed blood and nobody else were a little disturbing to her..but she's glad you're not offended by her screaming.

Although she wonders where you're going with her mask..

Later on, you knock on her door and present it fully fixed.

Except...it looks more Halloweenish with an evil smile painted on it, messily glued together.

'Oh god I hope this doesn't turn me evil or anything..' She thinks, putting on a smile as she takes it anyways.

Yet you remain where you are, staring and clearly waiting for her to try it on.

And so she does, and it turns her into a very chaotic Halloween lover, acting even more mischievous than Jax and allowing her to finally get her revenge for all his pranks.

In the end, you gain a decent friendship with her, subtly protecting her from Jax's bullying.

Ragatha

Seeing that you're so distant from the rest of the gang has her worried.

Some of them might consider your loose eyeball creepy, but she's not gonna judge you on that (besides, she's missing an eye altogether so she can't say much anyways).

Howeve,r she's the first to find out how strong your distrust of everyone is.

"[Y/n]? I don't think it's good to be isolating yourself like this. I know you hate being here and Caine's a weirdo..but...we're all in this together. You can trust us-"

"Don't." You warn, putting on a frightening display of anger that sends her tumbling to the ground, sending chills up her spine.

"Trust" became something you didn't take lightly, as the last time you put your trust in someone....you ended up dead, turning into a literal ghost in the machine (that was your gaming system).

Despite this, Ragatha doesn't run away.

Like Pomni, she understands that you're just a kid who's confused and lost.....and clearly had serious trust issues.

But she's determined to help you through that, even if you keep scaring everybody away.

She's got motherly instincts, and she hopes that in due time you'll learn to warm up to her.

Zooble

"A bedsheet worn as a costume? That's a classic."

She's seen weirder things during their time in the circus, so you don't faze her too much.

Only when you snap at Ragatha or somebody who was trying to be nice to you does she raise an eyebrow.

Honestly, they 100% understand that you just wanted to be alone sometimes, and she respects that.

It's suffocating trying to act all cheery and go along with every damn activity Caine tries to get everyone involved in (but lucky for you, he can't make you follow along).

Especially since she believes he made up that stupid "Halloween update" as lazy way to explain your sudden arrival.

The only time you do interact with Zooble is after she yanks Jax by his ears, and they hear this eerie-sounding giggle behind them.

When she turns around, you're just standing there motionless, staring at her.

Somehow, they just know you were smiling underneath that costume, which makes her smile, too.

"Maybe I should pull him out a hat next time, huh?" She jokes after letting him go, and you giggle once more as he hits the ground.

#clanask #anonymous #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc kinger #tadc gangle #tadc jax #tadc zooble #ghost reader #child reader #tw body horror #platonic #headcanons #halloween

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shinynewboots · 25 days

Text

Just a Taste: Part 2 Adam x afab!reader

AN: Hello friends! Here is my long-awaited sequel to Just a Taste! This took me a second to write due to writer's block and just being unsure of what direction I wanted to take so I hope y'all enjoy! Only like the third time I've ever written smut so let me know your thoughts!

2.2k words

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dub-con if you squint, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), Adam is bad at talking about his emotions, porn without plot

Tags: @kaces-mind @jiyuukaze @lousypotatoes

Adam did not return for 3 days.

Worried was an understatement. You had scoured your neighborhood for hours trying to find the fallen angel who had left you hot and bothered. Truthfully, he had hurt your feelings. You couldn't tell if it was the sting of rejection or the humiliation of the state you were left in that bothered you more.

Though you would never admit to Adam, you did finish what he started. You rubbed circles around your clit slowly at first but faster and faster with half-lidded eyes, imagining Adam's fingers between your folds. You imagined his self-satisfied smirk as you spent yourself on your fingers. That fucking asshole.

You came with his name on your lips (or rather you came cursing his name, more appropriately).

You tried to distract yourself. He was a grown man and if he wanted to be an idiot so be it. Who were you to stop him? He had a key, if he wanted to come back he could.

You settled for bed, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and pink panties. Sleep didn't come quickly for you, as your mind drifted to Adam, just as it did almost every night since he left.

You couldn't necessarily figure out what you had done wrong. You weren't particularly religious or spiritual when you were alive so this odd guilt he seemed to feel confused you. And for him to have the audacity to blame whatever indiscretions of his on you? Fucking asshole.

A piece of you hoped he was safe. Another piece of you hoped he had gotten the shit beat out of him, at least a little bit.

You finally drifted to sleep, your body snuggled around your pillow. Your apartment was hot, as were most nights in hell, so you slept with the fan on, over the covers, with your shirt bunched up around your stomach.

Just as sleep was about to take you, your mind hazy and slow, you heard the noise of the front door knob twisting and the door opening.

Adam?

You rolled in bed, contemplating meeting him to express your worry and relief. The petty side of you, which won out in the end, decided to stay in bed and greet him in the morning. He did not deserve your concern or relief.

You settled back down and tried to turn your mind off. The sound of footprints pacing the apartment played like white noise in your mind. He could suffer a little longer. You began to drift softly with the footsteps until you noticed them getting closer to your bedroom door.

You heard the door open and the footsteps enter your room. You tried to regulate your breathing. You did not want to have this conversation right now. You couldn't. You closed your eyes tighter and hoped he would get the hint.

The footsteps got closer until they stopped beside your bed and you felt a dip in the mattress where Adam had sat at the edge of your bed. His breathing was deep and you could smell the fruity aromatic scent of one of his favorite wines. Still, you chose to feign sleep.

A large hand touched your thigh, thumb making soft motions against your skin. Despite the heat of the room, you could feel goosebumps form beneath his touch.

"This place fucks with my head," Adam whispered, putting a firmer grip on your thigh. Your pulse quickened. "The longer I'm here, the farther away from heaven I get."

His hand traveled farther up your thigh and you felt your breathing stop. He was so close to your core. So close to discovering how wet you were even from the small morsel of touch he gave you. "And then you sit there like a temptress pulling me further into hell. Fucking despicable."

He laughed without humor.

You shot up from your faked slumber and glared at him. "You fucking left me. Do you know embarrassing that is?"

He gave you a crooked grin. "No, Y/N, you want to know what's fucking embarrassing? How much I just wanted to taste you and figure out if you really were as fucking delectable as that first apple I bit into."

His hand traveled to the edge of your panties and played with the elastic, his touch just barely there. You could do nothing but watch his finger in morbid fascination. Your clit ached to be touched. A heat was rising in your belly at his soft touches.

"Do it then, bastard." You bit out, bitterness striking at him from your tongue. "Or just leave already."

Adam's eyes darkened and suddenly a finger had plunged between your panties and skin and had found your wet folds. You moaned involuntarily, frustrated that you were folding for him once again so easily.

"Already so wet for me, Y/N?" He asked, running lazy circles around your clitoris. You felt your back arch at his touch, the t-shirt you were wearing coming up over your breasts to reveal them completely. That caught his attention, as his hand free reached out and pinched one of your nipples. You bit back a moan, feeling the coppery taste of blood pooling in your mouth.

His finger moved from your clit to the introitus, running even circles along the edge before pushing his finger completely into you. A moan escaped as you felt yourself become completely vulnerable under his touch. He studied you with his golden eyes full of curiosity and hunger.

He pulled his finger from your core, the entire digit coated in your desire. He removed his hand from your breast and used it to pull your chin towards him so that your gaze was focused completely on his face.

He licked his finger slowly, starting at the base near the palm and up towards the tip. His face was contorted into pleasure, like a starving man might savor a last meal.

"So fucking sweet, Y/N. Just like I thought."

You lay there, heart pounding at the sight of this fallen angel tasting you. Adam still sat of the edge of the bed and looked at you with a mischievous grin. In one quick motion, he pulled the panties from your body, leaving you almost completely bare aside from your bunched-up t-shirt. He brought your panties to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"So fucking tempting, Y/N." He whispered his golden eyes wild with desire. He adjusted himself so that he was completely on the bed, still fully clothed and threw your panties to the ground. He lay on his stomach, his head dangerously close to your cunt. Both hands moved so that they each gripped your thighs tightly.

He leaned his head closer to you, his tongue popping out of his mouth to taste you again. He licked up from your entrance, your desire flowing freely, towards your clit where he lapped at your bud.

Goosebumps spread across your body as you arched your back in ecstasy. You couldn't suppress the moan that shook your entire body. Your hands found their way into Adam's hair, gripping at the soft locks hard.

This must have pleased him because he began to suck on your clitoris, slowly at first and then faster and faster, building a constant tempo that your body reacted strongly to.

"Fuck," You groaned. Adam continued on until you felt as though would burst.

"Adam," You moaned, so close to the edge. And then he removed his mouth from your aching clitoris. Your cunt pulsated with desire and heat, begging to be touched. Pleading.

"Adam please, don't leave me again," You pleaded, aware of how desperate you sounded. You were so close. Your body burned with desire and was hyperaware of his touches and heat.

He looked up at you, mouth glistening with a mixture of your juices and his saliva. "How could I leave when I know just how good you taste?"

Adam began to lick up your body, tongue moving slowly from your core to your belly to your chest. He now hovered over you as he licked up your neck, paying special attention to the pulse point at the base of your neck.

"Adam please touch me," You plead once more. Adam chuckled into your ear.

"Desperate little bitch, huh?" His words sent shivers down your spine as he sucked on your earlobe. He was so close and yet you needed him closer. Growing bold, you decided to try something.

Using all your weight, you moved your leg so that it caught him off balance, rolling him on his back into the center of the bed. You followed suit and found yourself straddling him, your hands pressing into his chest. You threw your shirt off, leaving yourself bare before him. A look of shock crossed his features followed by a smirk.

You began to grind against him, vaguely aware that you were leaving wet stains on his pants. Adam recovered from the shock and gripped your waist with his hands. You could feel your orgasm begin to build back up again as your clitoris made contact with the bulge of his penis. You moaned at the contact, the friction pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You arched back, your breast pointed towards the ceiling, and your hands now finding themselves gripping onto Adam's thighs as you used his penis as your own personal sex toy. He moaned at the contact, the bulge in his pants growing even larger. You were so close. Almost over the edge.

"Come for me, Y/N." He asked, his voice low as he watched you use him for your own desire. Fucking shit, he had never seen a more beautiful sight.

That was all it took for your body to begin to shake as you hit your peak. You felt your body try and go limp as the explosions began to wane. Your breathing began to slow and you felt a wave of tiredness come over you. You tried to move off of Adam and tried to formulate a lame excuse for your actions in your head. Yet, he still had not released your hips. You tried to pull yourself free, but he gripped your sides tighter.

"I think you can cum at least one more time." He said, looking up at you with shining golden eyes. You shoot him a wry grin, already feeling more energized.

You pulled at his pants until he lifted his core to remove them from his body. He grabbed at his shirt and pulled it from behind his head to reveal his soft body. A trail of dark hair started at this belly button down to the dark curls of his pubic region. Multiple scars marred his abdomen, where he was stabbed by the one-eyed gremlin.

His cock was hard beneath you, rubbing against your clit most temptingly. You rubbed your already swollen vulva against his shaft, feeling it engorge with every move of your body.

"Fucking tease," He moaned out, gripping your hips to push you down harder against his body. Precum dripped from his tip, mixing with your juices. You rocked harder against him, already feeling another orgasm trying to form in your body.

Adam bucked up his hips, his face contorting into pleasure. He lifted you up from his body with all of his strength and pulled you back down so that you were impaled by his cock.

"Fuck," You cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being filled to the brim by the fallen angel. He fits you perfectly, his cock pulsating against your walls. He begins to buck his hips into you as your ride him as though your life depended upon it. He moved a hand so that his thumb made contact with your clit, rubbing hard circles against it.

The sensation was too much and yet not enough. You could feel that ball in core grow tighter and tighter. Winding against itself until—

"Adam, I'm about to —"

"Cum for me, Y/N," He groaned out. Thrusting faster into your body. All at once that ball in your core unraveled and you screamed out in pleasure as waves overcame your every sensation. Adam gave one last thrust and came inside you, his seed shooting into your core.

You sat there for a few minutes, the waves of pleasure slowly tapering off as the scene before you became clear. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realized what you had just done. You felt Adam grow softer inside you and so you dismounted his hips and sat beside him, feeling his seed leak from your cunt.

Adam breathed heavily, his eyes half-lidded. A yawn escaped his mouth.

"Um so we have to talk about this, " You started timidly. Adam yawned again and pulled your waist so that you lay beside him. He snuggled against you, your ass matching perfectly with his softening cock.

"Adam," You tried again. His arm snaked around you and grabbed onto one of your breasts.

"Nah, fuck that Y/N. We could talk or we could go to sleep and wake up tomorrow with morning sex and breakfast." He said sleepily. You weren't in the mood to argue and you couldn't deny that being held as you slept, especially by Adam, sounded like the closest thing to heaven you could get in this godforsaken place.

You made an affirmative noise and snuggled in closer to his warm body, all too aware of the cum leaking from between your legs. Yeah, maybe you could just talk in the morning.

#hazbin hotel reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam imagine #adam imagine

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not-neverland06 · 2 months

Text

Bad Day

pt. two

part one

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader, Vincent Sinclair x fem!reader (not together, I don’t do that twincest shite) warnings: reader embracing the dark side, graphic descriptions of violence Summary: Another set of tourists, but this one’s different. You actually have to meet this group. They’re particularly difficult, too, causing more damage than any of you expected. Can you survive the night, again?

You focused on the way the knife glinted as it spread mayonnaise over the bread. You watched it glide through the thick substance and brought it back down, flipping the blade and smoothing and spreading it-

Your fingers tightened around the handle and you winced as you slammed your eyes shut. You couldn’t be around blades, even ones as dull as this, without thinking of that night.

You’d fought, more than anyone else ever had, Bo told you. You’d also killed one of your friends in cold blood, no one had ever done that either.

He had been tied up and vulnerable and you hadn’t even given him a fair shot at surviving you.

You didn’t feel guilty about it, and that’s the part that haunts you. You didn’t try to justify your actions and cry yourself to sleep over the guilt you felt for being alive while your friends lay scattered throughout town. You slept deeply, peacefully, in the arms of the men who murdered them.

You’d wake up after having a dream about that night and you would feel exhilarated because it had been the first time you’d ever truly stood up for yourself. You reveled in the power you’d felt when you’d swung that ax into his neck.

You didn’t even remember their names.

How fucked up was that?

You basked in the memories of their demise but their faces were lost to you. One blur that bled together the more you tried to picture them.

You didn’t mourn them or feel pity, you felt no guilt, and that’s what fucked with you. Were you a bad person?

You had to be.

But you’d never been one before Ambrose.

You distracted yourself from the thoughts. You’d spiral and never get back up if you let yourself go down the rabbit hole. You tore off a piece of turkey and threw it at Jonesy, she pounced on it the second it hit the floor.

You finished the sandwiches, one going into a brown paper bag the other a plate that you wrapped with plastic. You left the kitchen, winding around boxes and junk that they called sentimental. You’d gotten into a nasty fight with Bo a few months ago about cleaning the house up a little, but he had refused.

You hadn’t realized how many beers he’d had that night and chosen the wrong moment to suggest change. Something he was staunchly against. He hadn’t hit you, never had, but he’d thrown a bottle near your head, the glass shattering and bouncing off the wall. Some of it had hit you, scraping up the back of your arms and legs. It wasn’t too bad, but you hadn’t felt that terrified of him since the night you came here.

You’d been petty, stolen his keys and camped out in one of the houses in town. You hadn’t been able to get any sleep, not with the wax family watching you, but it had gotten the message across. Lester had told you Bo thought you’d left and lost his fucking shit. Vincent, apparently, had been even worse.

By the time you got back the house was in worse shape then when you’d left.

Bo had told you he’d think about cleaning some of the stuff out. That had been three months ago.

You grabbed the flashlight off their father’s desk and used the hatch in the office, dropping down into Vincent’s lair. Vincent, when he’d discovered just how much you hated the darkness that led into his workspace, had started leaving a flashlight out for you.

When Bo got pissed at you he’d hide it. You’d have to crawl to him and beg for it back.

You’re pretty sure he didn’t care what it was that he stole, he just wanted to exercise some control over you. Remind you of your place in this town, under him.

The flashlight was a nice thought from Vincent, but it didn’t really help you much. You used it anyway, wanting him to know you appreciated how much he cared. Because you’re pretty sure he’s the only real reason you’re alive.

When Bo had caught you down here, standing over Owen’s dead body, he told you he didn’t know if he was going to keep you alive or not. You knew he meant it, he wasn’t teasing you or playing around, he genuinely did not know what to do with you. You were an outlier in a long list of repetitive victims.

Vincent swept in behind him, glanced down at the ax, the injuries all over your body, and hesitantly stepped towards you. They looked at each other, a silent conversation laying in their gazes.

Vincent took a slow step towards you and you recognized his actions for what they were. A test.

Earlier, you’d seen Vincent try to help his brother, ease his pain and wrap up his wounds. Bo had reacted cruelly, the only thing he seemed to be capable of.

You watched with a blank stare as Vincent kneeled down in front of you, brushing his fingers over the scraped skin of your knee.

You jumped slightly at the burn of flesh against your wound, but otherwise didn’t react. Slowly, he stood back up, grabbing your arm with a gentleness that wasn’t present in your first meeting. He led you back to his desk, flipping over the drawing of your face and pulling out bandages.

Some of them he had to toss to the side because they were covered in wax, others he used on you.

Bo watched it all with a frown on his face and crossed arms. “What the hell are you doin’?”

Vincent’s head shot up and his arms tightened around you. Again, you forced yourself not to react, not to flinch away from his hold and grimace as you heard his muffled breath next to your ear. Vincent didn’t say anything, didn’t move his hands to communicate, he blocked you in like a guard dog and after a moment you heard Bo cussing and storming out.

He mentioned something about getting the restg of your group, but nothing after that. You could only relax once you heard the basement hatch slam shut. “Thank you,” you whispered to Vincent. He grunted, but offered nothing else.

His fingers were quick, precise in the way they cleaned and wrapped your wounds. They were also surprisingly gentle for someone who had just slammed a blade through your friend's skull.

Vincent kept you squirreled away down there, sleeping on a cot in the corner of his large and stuffy studio. You weren’t sure how many days or weeks had passed with him idly sketching you and sculpting different wax animals for you, the lack of windows made it hard to tell, but you do know you were much better off here than in Bo’s dungeon.

You’d learned bits of sign language from him, you were bored and he seemed eager to teach you. To finally have someone who would speak his language too.

He was kind in his own way, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eager to get the fuck out of there.

Bo had stormed down one day, saw you, and lost his goddamn shit. Apparently, he’d thought Vincent was only keeping you around for a bit of fun and then killing you. The fact that you were still alive, and being taken care of, nearly gave him an aneurysm.

Again, Vincent hadn’t let Bo hurt you. He’d protected you from his brother’s wrath and forced Bo to accept that you were staying.

Sometimes you wished you weren’t kind to him. That you had yelled, kicked, and clawed at him. Called him a freak and told him to go to hell and find his precious momma. You would be dead, sure, but you wouldn’t be here.

Thoughts like that had disappeared a long time ago, left with the summer heat. You knew it wasn’t Stockholm syndrome, you’d been a psych student before your world was flipped on its axis. You knew what the signs were, but this wasn’t loving them to save yourself.

This was accepting that there was no place for you in society anymore, not after what you’d done. Not after you’d actually helped Vincent sculpt his wax around Allison’s pretty face.

You’d enjoyed it, a sick satisfaction from seeing the bitch dead, your survival a victory over her.

When she’d been alive she had a top. This really cute white, lacy number and no matter how many times you asked, she would never let you borrow it. She had no qualms stealing your clothes and never giving them back, but god forbid you ever even looked at that top.

It hung in your closet now, yours to do with whatever you pleased. You smiled every time you thought about it.

“Vince?” You knocked on the doorway and clicked the flashlight off as the door creaked open. The warm glow of candlelight leaked out into the dark abyss. You slipped inside, shuddering at the rush of heat that hit you. It wasn’t always hot in here, only when he was preparing a new batch of wax.

You frowned, he only did that when there were visitors coming. Lester must’ve called ahead, told them he spotted someone on the road. You closed the door behind you walking towards his desk and dropping the plate on top. Your fingers skimmed over the sketches, catching on another one of you.

You picked it up and smiled, it was a sketch of you curled up on the couch with Jonesy, your face pressed into her fur as you slept. You remember waking up from that nap, frowning when you heard wood creaking behind you but not seeing anything.

What a weird little stalker. He knew he could ask to sketch you and you didn’t mind, but he always ran away like you were gonna be mad at him. You shook your head, placing it back down, and walked further into his studio.

You found him sitting at his table, curled over something you couldn’t make out. You could see his wrist flicking, the carving tool in his hand, and figured he was making another animal for you. You already had a whole shelf full of different animals, practically your own wax zoo.

“Hey,” you whispered, hands creeping slowly along his shoulders. He tensed slightly before he leaned into you. “Brought you lunch.” His movements paused to sign, Thank you.

You glanced down at his hair, curling around him like a dark curtain and frowned. “Vince, you got wax in your hair again.” He shrugged and continued working. You sighed, walking back towards his desk and rustling through drawers until you found the brush you’d left down here for him.

Sometimes you think he does this on purpose because he likes how you take care of him. You ran the brush through his hair a few times trying to make sure you’d gotten all the wax out. He let out a low groan, his head tilting back and thudding against your chest as you stood behind him.

You chuckled, scratching your fingers along his scalp and he let out a long sigh, melting into you. You’d have to force him into the shower later, to wash everything out of his hair. It was astounding how stubborn both brothers were about just showering.

You weren’t sure why they resisted so much, maybe it was something that happened between them and their parents. Either way, it was a fight to get them near the water and even then you had to bribe them with your body, luring them in like a siren just so you could wash the grime off.

You braided Vincent’s hair away from his face and he stilled, temporarily becoming your doll while you did what you wanted to him. He was always a bit easier than his brother. He was eager to please, even more eager for your praise. For you to tell him you were proud of him.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss against the waxed cheek of his mask. “Eat your lunch, please.” He nodded but the second you backed off he was back to carving into the block of wax before him. You sighed and glanced around his space, collecting the dishes of other half-eaten meals you’ve brought down.

The bell rang above you and you let out a sigh or relief as you stepped into Bo’s shop. A cool breeze rustled the fabric of your top. Seems like he got the air conditioning up and running again, even in winter you could still wear a tank top and shorts and be sweating. “Bo?”

“Back here!”

You walked towards the garage, brown bag clutched tightly in your hands and poked your head in. He was bent over, head under the hood of a car and oil smeared all over his coveralls. Your eyes traveled over the car he was working on, wincing when you realized it was yours.

You hadn’t used it since you’d gotten here. You’d seen Bo towing it in, along with Owen’s but you’d always avoided paying too much attention to it. You weren’t sure why he bothered working on it, maybe it was a taunt towards you or he was just bored. You never really knew with him.

“Brought lunch,” you offered, walking towards his work table and jumping on top, the bag going next to your thighs. He lifted himself up, looking towards you and smiling.

“Thanks, hun,” you hummed in response, sticking your neck out as he approached. He chuckled, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

He reached for the bag, pulling out his lunch and taking too big of a bite. “‘M gonna have to go up to the house,” he mumbled through a mouth full of sandwich. “Need to change before our visitors get here.”

You nodded, staying quiet as he stared at you. You’d gotten used to this look and even more used to what was about to happen after. He’d tell you to follow him and would help you off the desk, deceptively sweet as he tugged you down to the room below the garage.

Then he would tape you up, muttering to himself about not letting you leave. You’d submit easily, letting him do what he wanted. It was easier than trying to tell him you were staying.

But his gaze shifted back to the car and you frowned at the side of his face. He should’ve told you to move by now. Instead he leaned back against the desk, his hand skimming your own. He didn’t look at you while he spoke.

“Want you to work on your car.”

You blanched, eyes going wide as you stared at him. That wasn’t even close to what you were expecting. You had gotten so used to sitting under that grate, listening to the screams of his victims as he hunted them down. Now, he wanted you up here, wanted you to see it.

What was he doing?

“What?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “fucked somethin’ up, want you to fix it.” He crumpled the bag into a ball, tossing it into the trash can and turned back towards you. You didn’t see anything on his face that would give away why he was keeping you up here on the surface and it set you on edge.

This had to be some sort of test. Maybe he was seeing if you would try and use the new victims to escape or warn them off. Or he wanted to see if you could pretend like you belonged, go along with his act and keep the victims feeling safe and compliant while he killed them off.

What the fuck?

You were used to how things worked in Ambrose. There was a system set in place, one you had learned to follow. This went against what you’d come to know and it was setting you on edge as you watched him walk off, heading up the hill and towards his house.

You stayed glued to the desk for a while, you weren’t sure how long, but it was enough time for Bo to have cleaned up. He popped his head inside the garage, suit on, and frowned. “What’re you doing? Move your ass.”

You jumped, leaping off the work table and rushing towards the car. He laughed at your panicked movements, staying a moment to admire your ass as you bent over the hood before you heard his boots on the gravel, heading towards the church.

You didn’t appreciate this switch up with him, how erratic his moods and behaviors were. He made it impossible to track and read him, to fully understand why he worked the way he did.

You were grateful that, at the very least, he had given you a distraction from trying to figure out what this test was and if you were in trouble or not.

You inspected the car, forcing yourself to remember everything he’s taught you while you’ve lingered in his shop.

“Oh, they're right here.”

You jumped, rolling out from underneath the car and glancing towards the doorway that connected the garage to the auto shop. Two unfamiliar voices echoed within Bo’s shop.

“Fan belts?”

“Yeah,” a guy and a girl. You poked your head over the top of the car and saw the guy was a lot taller than you and broader. Shit, you really hoped you didn’t run into him once they figured out what was going on up here. “But he doesn’t have the right size.”

“Just pick one, Wade, I don’t want to be in here much longer.”

“Alright, just hold on Carly.” You grabbed a rag, wiping your hands off and stepping towards them.

“You plannin’ on stealin’ that?”

They both jumped, whipping around towards where you leaned in the doorway arms crossed over your chest. “No,” the guy rushed to defend himself, his girlfriend shaking her head frantically. “We left some money on the counter, we just needed to get out of here, that’s all.”

“There you are,” you all turned towards Bo. His posture matched your own, leaned against the entrance to the shop, hands tucked in his pockets. God, he looked good. Now that you weren’t fighting for your life you could fully appreciate how handsome he looked all cleaned up. Bo glanced at you then back to the other two, “She botherin’ you?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, glaring at him over their shoulders. He winked when they faced you and you figured he was putting on another show. Huffing out an irritated breath you rolled your eyes and turned back towards your car. You frowned at the oil streaked along your skin and clothes, you’d never be able to get the stains out.

“Oh,” Carly started, shaking her head and glancing back at you again. “No, of course not, we just didn’t know that there was anyone in the shop.”

“She’s new, don’t like lettin’ her around customers, too much attitude.” You could practically see his smirk from under the car. He was probably so proud of himself, being able to tease you without you snapping back for once.

“She’s fine, um, I left some money on the counter, but you don’t have any fifteens.” You watched as Bo’s feet moved towards the register, most likely pocketing the money. “Is that enough?”

Bo’s tone was easy going, the perfect southern gentleman as he helped a poor lost couple. “Close enough. You know, I’ve got the right size up at the house. Only a couple blocks from here…”

You forced yourself deaf, trying to block out the rest of their conversation. These people weren’t exactly assholes and they didn’t seem particularly deserving of what was about to happen. Your friends were bad people, you didn’t feel guilty about them, but there was something about this couple that had your stomach burning in anxiety.

Maybe this was why Bo had you outside, playing mechanic with him. He wanted you to see the harsh reality of what it was they did here. you couldn’t always cover your ears and pretend it wasn’t happening. Was this what the test was? See how committed you were to him and Vincent, to Ambrose.

You used the car as a cover, dropping the wrench beside you and covering your face as you tried to decide whether you were going to cry or throw up. It was fine, the idea of all this, when you were hidden under the grate. The straps were a reminder that it could be you up there being hunted again.

Being face to face with the victims was entirely different.

A hand slammed down on the roof of the car, the metal reverberating around you, “Hey!”

You screamed, jumping up and nearly hitting your head on the underbelly of the car. You rolled out, glaring at Bo while he stood smiling down at you. He kneeled down, laying a hand around your thigh and squeezing.

“You’re gonna stay here, keep an eye out for any more of their friends, and behave. Okay?”

You nodded and he dug his nails in, “Yes, Bo.”

“Good girl,” he stood up and walked towards the garage door. You watched him, afraid to take your eyes off his back. He turned back around, one last lingering look that had you feeling cold, “Don’t fuck up.” You flinched as the garage door slammed down behind him.

“Help! Help me, please!” You jumped up and ran to the front of the auto shop. Carly ran face first into you, her fingernails digging painfully into your skin as she looked behind her.

“Shit,” you grabbed her biceps and pulled her away. “What’s going on?”

She backed up, wiping her eyes and gulping as she tried to catch her breath. “That- that guy, Bo, I think he did something to my boyfriend.”

“Alright, calm down, it’s okay.” God, you were just as freaked out as her. What the fuck were you supposed to do? “Let me get the phone, we’ll call someone.”

She nodded, running to the door and locking it. She pressed her face against the glass and peered outside, keeping an eye out for him. You knew you didn’t have long before she started to get suspicious. The station had a working phone, but there was no way in hell you were actually about to call the cops on Bo.

You paced back and forth, running your hands through your hair as you looked around, trying to find a solution. Your eyes snagged on the wrench by the car. You whipped your head over your shoulder, Carly was still stuck to the window. You ran for it, grabbing it and turning back towards her.

You raised your hand up, wincing as she caught your eye in the reflection of the glass. “What’re-”

She crumpled to the ground with a thud, crimson pooling around her arms.

You saw in the reflection Bo approaching you from behind, back in his coveralls. “Atta girl!” You didn’t react when he slung his arms over your shoulders, squeezing you and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Did good, baby.” He released you, huffing out a big sigh and walking over to the girl, “Alright, grab her ankles.” His tone was no longer adoring going right back to business.

You looked at him like he was crazy, ”Bo, what?”

You dropped the wrench to the ground and he frowned from where he was picking up her wrists. “You got a problem?”

”Yeah! What the fuck are you doing? Why am I doing this?” He dropped her arms unceremoniously and you winced at the crack they made against the cement. He stepped over her, stalking towards you and you stumbled back, heart beating faster in fear.

His hand snapped out, grabbing you before you could make it far. You whined as he dug his nails into your cheeks, puckering your lips and gripping your jaw hard enough for it to creak. “You’re doing this ‘cause I said to. Do we have a problem?”

He was so good at making you feel small. You wonder how Vincent’s put up with it all these years. “No, Bo,” your words were muffled by his grip, but he got the message. He released you, but you didn’t go far, his arm wrapping around waist and pulling you into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, his hand coming up to push some of your hair back. “It’s alright, darlin.’ We all make mistakes, right?” His tone was condescending, his smirk even more so, but you played along like he wanted you to. Nodding and accepting when he pressed a violent kiss to your mouth, your teeth clashing together and lip splitting from the force of it.

He backed away from you, chuckling loudly and going back to the unconscious girl on the floor. You grabbed her by the ankles like he’d told you to and helped him drag her down to the basement. He propped her head on your shoulder while he unlocked the door and you struggled under her dead weight.

“Why is she going down here, Bo?”

Your mind went to the Polaroids covering the walls, the things he’s had you do in that chair and you felt anger burning in your gut. Not worry or fear for her like you should feel, but white hot burning rage at him for trying to pull something like this.

He looked over his shoulder at your expression and grinned, “Nothin’ like that, baby. Little bitch put up a fight and wrecked my truck, I ain’t done with her yet.”

A good person would wince and whisper and apology to the unconscious girl, say they were sorry for the pain she was about to experience. Instead you felt sated, relieved, and completely fine with hauling her body up into the chair and taping her down.

You held her legs down as he taped them and she started to move around. Bo tossed you some superglue and you gripped her by the jaw, clamping her lips shut and pouring glue over the seam of her mouth. She whimpered and you ignored her, moving mechanically, distancing yourself from the fact that she was a real moving person. In her place was a wax statue, full of imperfections that you needed the glue to fix.

All three of you looked up through the grate at the sound of the boots stomping in the garage above you. Bo shared a look with you and nodded towards the door. You let the girl go, slipping out of the basement and closing the door behind you. You came up through the entrance behind the register, glancing outside to see a man in front of the garage.

You let out a breath of relief, closing the door to the shop as you stepped into the garage, he hadn’t got a chance to see the pool of blood. “Can I help you?”

He turned around, a particularly bitchy look on his face. “Looking for my sister, Carly, seen her?”

There was a loud yelp and you frowned. You walked towards the work table, reaching for the stereo and turning the volume to Bo’s music on. You covered the grate from his view as Deftones blasted through the small garage.

“Sorry, it’s my dog, she hates new people.”

He gave you an awkward smile and nodded. “Yeah, might’ve seen her. Pretty girl, blonde hair?”

He nodded his head, giving you an appraising look. You weren’t sure if he didn’t believe you or was checking you out. You really preferred that he didn’t believe you, you weren’t prepared to deal with Bo if he thought someone was moving in on you. ”My boss, Bo, took her and her boyfriend up to his house a few minutes ago. They were lookin’ for a fan belt.”

“His house?”

You shrugged, “He keeps extra shipments there. Wasn’t too long ago, you want me to take you?”

He sucked on his teeth, shaking his head and backing away. “No, I’m good, thanks though.”

You panicked, fists clenching as you watched him retreat. “It's really no problem.”

“I said I’m good,” he snapped.

You could see Bo creeping up behind him, the same wrench you used on the guy’s sister in his hand. If he turned around he would see Bo. Carly was easy to take out, she was small, trusting. This guy looked built and like he’d been in a few too many fights. “Wait!” You shouted, too scared to come up with a good distraction.

He glared at you and opened his mouth to say something just as Bo struck. The wrench came down on the guys head with a disturbing crack, but he didn’t fall like he should have. He stumbled forward and whirled around on Bo, his fist catching him in the jaw and tackling him to the ground.

You could clearly see blood pouring down the back of his head, but he remained unphased as he pounded into Bo. “Shit,” you cursed, darting to the side to pick up another weapon but you failed to notice how the man had stopped beating Bo. He must’ve seen you moving somehow because in a split second something was slamming into your side and the air was leaving you as you were slammed into the cement.

You groaned, feeling like your lungs had collapsed and curled up in an attempt to protect yourself as he directed his attacks towards you. “Nick!” A shrill voice screamed from the grate. “Nick!” He leapt off of you, heading back towards Bo and ripping the keys off his belt as he made a run for it.

Your vision was red, blood pouring down from a cut on your forehead. You took in a painful breath, your lungs wheezing, your ribs had apparently taken the majority of his punches. With your brain pounding against your eyes you rolled onto your knees and crawled towards Bo.

He wasn’t as badly injured as you had thought he would be, must’ve gotten in a few hits of his own. “Bo,” you grabbed his shoulders, gently shaking him. “Bo!” You tried again, shouting this time and slamming his head down on the cement.

He groaned and you let yourself fall back, head lolling on your shoulders as you tried to get your vision to stop swimming. “Shit, he got me.” Bo sat up, wiping the blood from under his nose, “Get home.” He ordered, tone not leaving any room for an argument. You nodded as he stormed off, but instead of going home like he told you to, you laid down on the cold cement and groaned.

Should lungs hurt?

You eventually managed your way to the house, once you’d got breath back, your injuries weren’t as bad as you’d thought they’d been. You stumbled into the doorway, glancing at a trail of blood leading into the office and trudging your way to the fridge. You grabbed a beer and threw yourself down on the couch.

It didn’t take long to hear footsteps creeping towards you. Your heart clenched when you saw how hesitant Vincent was to get near you. You loved Bo, but he could be a real fucking dick to his brother. You leaned your head against the cushion, rolling it to the right and smiling at Vincent.

It seemed to be enough for him to feel comfortable approaching you. He kneeled on the floor beside you and fussed over your scrapes. “I’m fine, really,” you reached up, taking his hand in yours and trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I think they got Bo pretty bad, though.”

He tugged his hands from yours, taking off his gloves and signing. How bad

”One of the guys, he’s pretty strong, busted his sister out from the basement after attacking me and Bo. Actually managed to knock Bo out for a minute.”

Stay here

“Wait-” you reached out, trying to grab the back of his sweater but he was already making a run for the front door. It slammed closed behind him, his truck starting up a minute later. You sighed and fell back against the couch, letting your eyes shut as you tried to relax.

You hadn’t realized just how relaxed you’d gotten until you heard the door slam. You jumped up, glancing out the living room window and realizing how dark it’d gotten. You moved off the couch, placing your beer on the coffee table and heading into the kitchen.

Bo was leaning on the counter, already a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He was completely soaked in blood, his nose leaking and a bandage wrapped around his arm. “Holy shit, Bo, what happened?”

You ran forward, hands instinctively going to the arrow buried in his arm. “Back off!” He snapped. You frowned and stepped back from him, trying not to upset him any further. You heard the rumble of a truck on the driveway and you glanced through the window.

Two bodies lay in the bed of Vincent’s yellow truck, a blonde girl and some guy you hadn’t seen before. Vincent jumped out, Jonesy following behind him, and made his way towards the door. You opened it before he could, grabbing him by the cardigan and making sure he wasn’t hurt like Bo.

He took your hands in his and shook his head, gently moving you back. “What have I told you about leaving without me?” Bo shouted. “You wait for me!”

Vincent nodded, not bothering to respond to Bo. There was a moment of tense silence before Bo offered a half-hearted smile to Vincent, “We’re almost done, Vinnie, momma would be proud of ya.”

It was the closest to an apology Vincent would ever get, you all knew it. Bo can’t apologize, his parents had permantly fucked with his psyche, and it started with his dad doing a risky surgery to seperate his boys. Vincent’s face would permanently be ruined but you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Bo had gotten the fucked mental end of the separation.

“How many are left?” You asked, reluctantly releasing Vincent’s hands.

“The girl and her brother,” Bo paced, taking a swig of his whiskey. He hissed and clutched his hurt arm. “Alright, help me out with this.”

You had to hold yourself back from snapping at him. Oh, can I help now? Dick. You grabbed hold of what was left of the arrow and yanked as hard as you could, Bo clenched his teeth and let out a loud pained groan. You winced at the amount of blood that started coming out, Vincent moved you to the side, already having a bandage ready and tying it tight around Bo’s arm.

“Where do you think they headed?”

Bo grunted, speaking through clenched teeth, “House of Wax.”

You nodded and stepped back from him once it seemed like Vincent wouldn’t need your help. “I’ll go with you both.”

”No,” Bo shouted and Vincent shook his head wildly.

“Don’t be a dumbass, you need my help. They’ve already kicked your ass, I’ll stay out of sight, promise. I just want to be there in case they get the upper hand.” Bo looked unsure and Vincent was still shaking his head. You placed a comforting hand on both of their arms and begged, “Please. Let me help.”

Bo shook his head and your stomach dropped, worried he would say no. Finally he let out a long sigh, “Stick with Vincent.”

You nodded, feeling Vincent’s hand grab onto yours as he led you outside. Bo grunted and slowly followed after you both, his left arm stiff beside him.

You followed Vincent into the bowels of the House of Wax, he moved slowly, keeping one hand behind him to make sure you didn’t bolt. You weren’t planning on it, but they didn’t seem to completely trust you for some reason.

You heard footsteps ahead, quck and frantic, rushing through his workshop. Vincent pulled out his bone handle daggers and ran down the rest of the steps. You stayed on the stairwell, keeping your head peaked around the corner.

The brother was in there, rushing through the workshop and knocking shit over without a care in the world. He hadn’t noticed Vincent yet, too busy looking for something. You weren’t sure what he wanted, or what the plan was until you saw him grab a pile of sheets, getting ready to throw them in the fire that kept the wax warm.

Shit, he was going to set the whole damn place on fire.

Even if you did manage to kill these two, it wouldn’t matter, the police would come, they’d see the bodies. Bo and Vincent would be locked up and you…

Well, you didn’t really know what would happen to you.

You could always plead insanity, show the jury the scars from your bonds and they’d think you were just a victim forced to do the unimaginable.

You considered it for a moment, letting him get away with this, thought about the freedom that might await you. There was an empty feeling associated with that image, you’d miss Bo and Vince, miss the fucked up life you were living here.

There weren’t any worries here, just make sure the victims didn’t make it past the woods and you were fine. No taxes, or wondering how you’d afford to keep living in your overpriced apartment, no fucked politics. You were free to be whoever you wanted, do whatever you wanted.

You grabbed a lead pipe off the stairs and threw it at the wall. It provided enough of a distraction for him to drop the sheets, not yet making it to the fire, and for Vince to grab him. You watched long enough to see the knife go through his throat and then ran back up the stairs towards Bo.

You heard screaming before you made it through the door, Carly shouting something at him. What worried you was that you didn’t hear him respond. You turned the corner, feet sticking to the wax as you gripped onto the doorway for balance.

She was standing over him, baseball bat in her hands poised to bring it back down over his face. You could already see blood leaking down his face from where she’d hit him before. Without thinking you charged at her, wrapping your arms around her middle and taking her down to the floor.

She let out a surprised yelp but you didn’t let her get much else out before you were wailing on her. You don’t know what happened after you grabbed her. You only remember punching her the first time, remember your knuckles splitting and your blood mingling with hers as she wrestled with you.

All you could see was Bo laying on the floor, not moving, as this bitch stood over him with a bat. You were blinded by rage, a hot fury burning in your gut and keeping you moving as you pounded your fists into her. You felt satisfied by the sound of her bones crunching under you.

She screamed at you, words you couldn’t hear as your blood rushed through your ears, and threw her hand up into your chin. You groaned, jaw whipping to the side. She pounced on you, digging her fingers into your throat until you couldn’t breathe and flipping you both over.

You dragged your nails down her face, the skin digging under your nails like warm wax. You dragged your palms down until you could feel her throat, the movement it made as she took in a deep breath. You felt it bob up and down under your touch and you squeezed. She let out a strangled yelp and you could feel yourself slipping. You were becoming lost in a place of animalistic panic.

You were almost dead, the man you loved was most likely lying dead next to you as you fought for your own life. Your vision was cloudy until it went completely black and then you felt arms wrapping around your chest and pulling you back. You kicked and screamed, still in fighting for your life until you recognized the voice in your ear.

“Alright, it’s alright, it’s over.” You slumped back at the sound of Bo’s whispers. You ignored the feeling of his blood leaking into your shirt as he sat down with you, pulling you into his chest and squeezing until it hurt.

You didn’t mind the pain, though, embracing it because it meant you were both alive. Both of you were okay. You reached back, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into him. Carly lay dead a few feet in front of you, her face mangled and you looked down to see her blood soaking into your clothes.

You had your own wounds from where she’d fought back, bleeding lacerations that you’d fix later. For now you sat with Bo, watching as Vincent stomped towards you both. In a minute you’d get up, help them clean up the house and the bodies. Then you’d all go home, you’d make dinner, pass out on the couch and wake up in one of their beds. Probably Bo, if his panicked grip was anything to go by.

Life would go on as it always had, except you’d never have to see that chair again. You’d never be looking up through a grate as blood pooled on the garage floor. You’d go with Bo when he went to the city for supplies, you’d be able to pick out clothes that weren’t plucked from the hands of the dead.

It wasn’t right.

You weren’t a good person.

You didn’t deserve salvation or heaven after all of this.

But you’d found it and you were perfectly happy.

#bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fandom #house of wax 2005 #House of wax x reader #sinclair brothers x reader #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x you #Slashers

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hamsterclaw · 10 months

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My Girl

A Love story. Read the rest here.

Namjoon's always careful about his words, but he mis-speaks, and he doesn't want to take it back.

Pairing: Namjoon x F! reader

Word count: 3.8k

Genre: Exes, college flashback

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Namjoon sometimes wonders if something happened to arrest his emotional development.

People are supposed to grow aren’t they? Aren’t they supposed to evolve? They learn from their mistakes and they learn from living their day to day.

Everytime Namjoon sees you he feels like he’s 19 again, the same cocky shit who didn’t see anything wrong with asking you to sit on his dick two hours after you met.

He didn’t need to know your last name to know you’d feel good on the end of his cock.

He’d been humbled by how badly he’d wanted to make you come. Once he’d discovered the sweetness of your pretty face as you fell apart, he’d vowed to keep making you fall apart, again and again.

And you were always so so easy to please. You seemed always glad to see him, whatever time he turned up at your door.

You never really asked for anything, not to meet up on Valentine��s day, not to hang out on a weekend when he had plans, not for flowers or anything on your birthday.

The only reason he’d learned when your birthday was, was that he’d seen you with your friends, a whole big group, out one night. You’d been surrounded by love, smiling faces and Namjoon had realised then that you had love to spare. He guesses that’s why you had so much to give him.

Namjoon had dropped by a house party with his housemates, Yoongi and Hoseok, and he hadn’t been looking for anything other than a good time when you’d caught his eye.

You were standing backed up against a wall, talking earnestly to some guy in a shirt, and from across the room Namjoon could see the way the guy kept using his vantage point to look down your top.

The entire scene rubbed him the wrong way. You were way too pretty to be visually molested by some clown who didn’t even deserve to be talking to you.

He was halfway across the room before his rational brain caught up to his monkey brain but Namjoon shut that all out and kept walking.

He walked right up to you, cocked his head.

‘Hey, you look pretty.’

You’d smiled at that, turned to introduce the clown to Namjoon like you were all at some fucking tea party, and Namjoon had rolled his eyes, impatient.

‘Come on, let me get you a drink.’

You’d hesitated, and the shirt guy had tried to press closer to you.

‘She’s got a drink,’ he’d said.

Namjoon had just waited.

You’d said, ‘See you later, Marcus,’ and followed Namjoon round the back.

‘He’s not a bad guy,’ you’d said to Namjoon, after he’d got you that drink.

‘He spent the whole time checking out your tits,’ Namjoon had said, incredulous.

You’d laughed. ‘Don’t you do that too?’

‘I’m allowed. You’re my girl.’

You’d both froze.

There was an edge of something to your voice as you’d scoffed. ‘Am I?’

Namjoon had been appalled by his lapse.

‘One of them,’ he’d amended.

You’d said, not looking at him, ‘Yeah.’

He’d left the party with another girl that night just to prove a point.

He didn’t need you.

***

There was one night when you’d seemed more subdued than usual.

You always were more cynical than chirpy but you’d been pretty quiet as you watched the movie together. He’d watched you checking your phone for a while before he’d asked, voice cold, ‘You waiting for your other fuckbuddy to text you?’

You’d turned to him, mouth slightly open in surprise.

He’d watched as you processed his words, his tone, the look in his eyes.

He’d wondered if you knew how expressive your face was.

You’d said, ‘No. I’m just waiting for —-‘

He’d cut you off.

‘So you want to get on my dick or not?’

You’d seemed to be lost for words, so he’d said, more aggressive then he’d intended, ‘Come on, you didn’t wear that dress because you didn’t want to get fucked, right?’

Your mouth had snapped shut, your eyes had flashed, and you’d said, ‘Shut up, Namjoon.’

You’d climbed into his lap, and he’d fucked you hard, until you’d been reduced to a whimpering mess in his arms.

He’d felt a pang of guilt as he’d seen the handprints he’d left on your ass cheeks, but you’d said nothing, getting your clothes on like you were leaving, after.

Namjoon had watched you, realised you hadn’t really answered his question.

‘Going?’ he’d asked.

You’d said, quietly, ‘Yeah, I gotta go.’

There was something about your manner that rankled, like you were so detached he barely registered to you.

Namjoon had yawned deliberately, drawled, ‘You can get back home ok on your own, can’t you?’

You’d both looked at the clock on the wall.

2am.

‘Yeah,’ you’d replied.

You’d left without a backwards glance for your dorm across campus, and if Namjoon felt relief when he saw you safe and sound the next day in class he felt no need to acknowledge it, even to himself.

***

The first week you were late to class he’d been a little surprised. You were, as a rule, punctual, always sat near the front like you didn’t want to miss anything.

He’d headed in your direction casually, to talk to you, but you were too quick, rushing out like you had somewhere important to be.

The second week you were late the professor had made a pointed remark about the start time and Namjoon had been close enough to see the way your expression dropped. You looked tired, and he was no stranger to tiring you out but you’d never looked so wiped out before.

The third week you arrived on time but towards the end of class Namjoon had realised you were asleep, slumped forward, head on your desk.

He’d seen the professor’s gaze on you, seen him about to walk over, and Namjoon had, without really thinking about it, shoved the stack of textbooks on his desk to the floor.

The slap of cardboard and paper on the wood floor had been so loud a girl near the front had screamed, and by the time the professor had looked back at you, you were sitting up, blinking, dazed but awake.

You’re fast, but Namjoon’s stride’s longer than yours. He catches you easily.

‘Hey,’ he says, falling into step beside you. ‘Want to meet up tonight?’

You smile up at him. ‘I can’t. I have work.’

‘You got a job?’ Namjoon asks.

‘Bartending. My dad lost his job and I need to start paying my own rent.’

You’re matter of fact about it.

Namjoon says, ‘What about now? You have some time before your next class, right?’

***

Namjoon braces his hand against the headboard behind him, trying to stop it slamming against the wall as you ride him.

His cock’s in heaven, slipping in and out of your cunt, wet, hot, tight. The rest of him is as enthralled, the visual of you with your tits out, moaning as you fuck yourself on him has him most of the way to coming.

Namjoon knows that the way you are now, all he has to do is stay hard for long enough to pleasure you.

You slam your hips down on his so hard Namjoon’s pushed back, his fingers clipped between the headboard and the wall. He barely registers the pain, because you’re calling his name, tightening on his cock, and he’s coming too, groaning his pleasure as he twitches and jerks inside you.

You bury your face in his chest, and it’s only when you mumble something incomprehensible that Namjoon realises you’ve fallen asleep.

The warmth in his chest takes him by surprise. He’s sticky with sweat and sex, but he wraps an arm around you anyway. To his surprise, you snuggle deeper into his chest, your breath warm against his skin.

Namjoon likes it.

He must doze, because he opens his eyes to you, fully dressed, trying to fix your hair that he pulled into a tangled mess.

You give him a sheepish smile. ‘I’m sorry I fell asleep.’

‘It’s ok,’ Namjoon says. He’s soft with the honesty of sleep. ‘I liked it.’

The words leave his mouth and hang between you.

You appear to be caught in indecision, then you sigh and lean down. You press a soft kiss to his lips, and rest your forehead against his, hand on his cheek.

Namjoon breathes you in.

He doesn’t think he’s ever touched you before without the intention of fucking you.

His mind races with all the things he could say, and he closes his mouth before any of it spills out.

You’re not waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him, affection in your eyes. ‘I needed that.’

Namjoon wants to say, I needed you too.

Instead he smirks. ‘I like those panties. Are they new?’

You snort. ‘There you are, baby.’

You do up the last button on your shirt, the one he wasn’t going to tell you was undone because he likes the view of your tits.

Then you’re off.

***

Namjoon’s first at the bar in the dive off campus, his friends had told him what they wanted to drink but he’ll just get whatever’s easiest, fuck remembering the detail.

He registers that your profile looks familiar just as you turn to take his order.

You raise your eyebrow in greeting.

‘What can I get you, Namjoon?’

‘Out of here,’ Namjoon replies in a flash of honesty.

Your lips curve as you stifle a laugh.

You’re about to say something when Jiah, one of the girls he’s with, walks up. ‘We want shots,’ she says, hand on his arm, tugging him down even though he can hear her easily.

Namjoon loses eye contact with you as he turns to her.

‘I got you,’ you say, smooth, professional.

You pour out the drinks, take the rest of his order. ‘I’ll bring them to your table.’

Namjoon hands you his card, you tap and hand it back to him with an exaggerated flourish.

By the time you bring your drinks over to his table Namjoon’s been thinking about you non-stop.

You set down the drinks, give his friends cheerful waves in greeting.

Namjoon waits until you set his drink in front of him.

‘When do you get off work?’ he asks.

‘Late,’ you say, your smile never faltering. ‘Have a good night, Joon.’

***

There’s some guy talking to you around closing time like he thinks you’re going to want to finish your shift and clock off with him.

Namjoon walks over, says your name. Looks hard at the way the man’s stretched over the bar like he wants to touch you.

You say something that makes the man step back.

You wipe down the counter, hang up your apron, and grab Namjoon’s arm.

‘I said you were my boyfriend so he’d stop hassling me,’ you tell him, going up on tiptoe to reach his ear. ‘Just play along for a bit.’

Namjoon, always ready to act like he owns you, slips an arm around your waist, throws the guy a look.

It’s when you’re out in the cool night air that you say, ‘thanks.’

Like Namjoon’s in a hurry to let you go.

He’s half-drunk, and horny, but he’s not in a hurry to try anything.

‘Come on,’ you say. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

‘Nah, let me walk you home.’

You throw him a surprised look that honestly, makes him feel a little ashamed.

‘You want to walk me home?’

‘It’s late,’ Namjoon shrugs. He laughs, trying to make light of it. ‘It’s what your boyfriend would do.’

‘You can stop pretending, that guy’s gone.’

‘I don’t want to,’ Namjoon says.

Again, the words hang in the air between you.

You grin at him, teasing. ‘You want to be my boyfriend, Namjoon?’

Namjoon thinks, Yes.

Namjoon shrugs. ‘Don’t you want me?’

You shrug back. ‘Do you want me?’

Namjoon thinks, Yes.

Namjoon says, ‘You’re the one walking around calling me your boyfriend.’

You laugh. ‘How drunk are you, baby? Want to come up?’

With a start Namjoon realises you’re at your dorm.

‘I have my own room,’ you say. There’s a note of uncertainty in your voice now, a quietness now the night is over.

Namjoon’s never been to your room before.

He follows you up the stairs, waits behind you as you unlock the door and push it open.

Your room is neat, uncluttered for the most part.

‘Hey, you want to watch a movie?’ you ask.

‘Sure,’ Namjoon says.

He watches, a little amazed, as you tie up your hair, get changed into a loose tee and shorts.

You’re unselfconscious about winding down from the day in front of him, and your ease makes him feel easy too.

‘I have a pair of your sweats,’ you say. You toss them to him.

Namjoon shucks his clothes, pulls on the sweats, looks around for a shirt.

‘You don’t need one, Joon.’

You say, ‘I’d normally take my makeup off now but I know you like it when you make my mascara run.’

Namjoon leans back against your bed, widens his stance.

You climb into his lap. Your shorts are so short he can see your panties.

Namjoon tugs them aside, presses a knuckle against your cunt.

He groans. ‘You always feel so fucking good.’

‘You too, Joon.’

He’s hardening as you grind against him.

‘Put the movie on,’ Namjoon grunts. He tugs his sweats down, fists his cock. ‘Then come and warm my cock for a bit.’

You lose your tee as you put the movie on, and when you come back to him he presses his fingers into your mouth, gentle with your jaw.

‘Suck,’ he says.

Namjoon pulls your shorts and panties down.

‘Let me see.’

Obligingly, you get on all fours on the bed, let him finger you to the opening credits.

Namjoon pushes himself back, spreads his legs.

He positions you on him, and like every time, you take him so well, leaning forward without him having to ask.

You moan when he fills you, cock snug inside your walls.

‘Don’t move,’ Namjoon warns.

He tugs your bra straps down, cups your breasts.

‘These tits,’ Namjoon tells you, ‘Fill my hands just right.’

You’re quiet save for your moaning.

Namjoon can feel you getting steadily wetter on his cock as he touches your breasts.

His cock’s as hard as he’s ever been.

Harder, as you arch your back to push your tits into his palms.

Harder, as you lean into his neck, cry his name.

‘Stay still,’ Namjoon growls.

‘Joon I’m coming,’ you gasp out.

Namjoon bites into his lip so hard he draws blood as you writhe your pleasure on his cock, cunt fluttering around his hardness so beautifully he almost gives in and fucks you.

He pinches your hip.

‘I told you not to move, baby,’ he says sternly. ‘Who said you could come on my cock like that?’

‘Couldn’t help it,’ you slur, so fucked out you’d think he’d been fucking you all night instead of just touching your tits with his cock in you.

Namjoon wraps his arms around you, holding you still.

He’s aching a bit now, he’s been hard for a while. He fucks up into you a bit, just to take the edge off.

Shit, you’re so wet, and so fucking warm.

You moan everytime he shifts his hips, like every change in position pleasures you.

‘You’re so big, Joon,’ you say, breathy.

Namjoon grinds your ass down into his lap, and you whine. ‘So deep.’

‘Yeah,’ Namjoon agrees.

You’re well into the movie now, though neither of you are watching.

You shift a little, rub the pads of your fingers against your clit, fingers spreading over the base of his cock.

‘Oh Joon,’ you shiver. ‘I’m gonna come again.’

‘Do what you like,’ Namjoon says, hoarse. ‘Just don’t fucking move.’

Your fingers move faster, drawing circles over your clit.

‘Joon!’

Namjoon feels the gush of your slickness dripping down his balls, and realises he’s coming too, cock twitching as he spills inside you.

‘Fuck.’

He pulls you under him to fuck you the rest of the way, collapses on you in a sweaty, panting heap.

He’s still hard, sensitive.

‘Stay,’ you moan, muffled against the pillow. ‘Fuck, stay, Joon, don’t come out.’

‘I’ll stay,’ Namjoon agrees. He bites into your shoulder, and you shiver helplessly under him. ‘I want to come again.’

‘Yeah,’ you agree. You’re most of the way to unconscious now, wiped out by your two orgasms, whatever the fuck else you got up to today.

Namjoon thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but when he lifts up to take his weight off you, you turn your head.

‘You promised to stay,’ you say, accusing.

Namjoon doesn’t know why you being cute makes him hard but it does.

Does he need to get his kinks unpicked? Analysed?

I’ll stay as long as you want, he wants to say.

‘Make it worth my while,’ he says.

You smile like you heard his thoughts and not what he actually said.

‘Go on, Joon, fuck me.’

Namjoon circles his hips, thrusts into you with a lazy snap of his pelvis.

You cry out.

He’s sensitive, but the way you cry his name when he’s fucking you like this takes the edge off.

‘One more,’ Namjoon says, turning you over to he can see your face.

‘Give it to me,’ you say, loose, fucked out.

Namjoon rolls his hips into yours, fucks you until you’re screaming. He’s leaked into you so much by the time he comes that he thinks it’s dry, just the pulsing of his cock.

He’s so fucked out he has no words left, not in his head, nor left unspoken.

He holds you, and sleeps.

***

Namjoon wakes to you stepping back into your room in a towel, hair dripping.

‘I had cum all over me,’ you tell him, almost shy.

‘That’s what you get for being cute,’ Namjoon says, unrepentant.

You catch his eye in the mirror as you start getting dressed.

Namjoon rolls onto his side, arm under his head, to admire your bare pussy as you bend over to pull your panties on.

‘Stop staring —-‘

‘Stop showing it to me,’ Namjoon retorts.

He throws the covers off, gets up to show you how erect he is.

‘Want some breakfast?’ Namjoon asks, fist curled around his cock.

‘If you make it,’ you say, not quite getting it.

‘I’m making some for you right now,’ Namjoon says, stroking himself.

You’re backed up against the wall, bra half on, looking at him warily.

‘Come on. Get this cum out of me and I’ll get you pancakes,’ Namjoon coaxes.

‘And waffles,’ you bargain.

‘Sure,’ Namjoon says, agreeably.

***

Breakfast at the mall turns into a trip to the bookstore because Namjoon wants to pick up another book whilst he’s here.

You look through books as he makes his purchase.

‘You going to Mingyu’s party next week?’ Namjoon asks.

‘I can’t, I gotta work,’ you tell him.

‘Come on, it’ll be fun. One night off,’ Namjoon says, coaxing.

‘I can’t. I’m gonna be short on next month’s expenses as it is,’ you tell him.

Namjoon lets out a low whistle. ‘That bad, huh?’

You look at your shoes. ‘Yeah, I don’t want to ask my dad, he’s stressed enough.’

You laugh. ‘I shouldn’t even be in the mall. I have so much work to do.’

You look up at him. ‘This was fun though, I haven’t been out like this in a while.’

‘You can borrow my notes from politics,’ Namjoon offers.

You snort. ‘You’re the one always copying off me!’

Namjoon laughs. ‘I mostly just look down your top.’

You punch him in the arm.

‘Or at your legs,’ Namjoon adds, unrepentant.

He deflects your next blow easily.

‘Come on. I’ll walk you home.’

***

Namjoon watches, vaguely amused, as Hoseok pulls out all the stops to impress a girl.

The amiable nice guy persona. Check.

The cheeky smile. Check.

Then, the kicker, the twist in the tail - a suggestive comment, delivered straight-faced, just to show he’s not all sunshine.

He’s never seen Hoseok fail when he tries, and sure enough, the girl, initially indifferent, is now looking for Hoseok’s attention.

Yoongi, beside him, murmurs his approval.

‘Where’s your girl?’ he asks Namjoon.

‘Which one?’ Namjoon asks, unable to resist.

‘Shut up,’ Yoongi says, giving him a look.

Namjoon can see the group of girls by the door looking their way.

He straightens up, sips his drink, flexes a little.

Yoongi sees the direction of his gaze, turns his back on the girls.

‘This asshole schtick,’ Yoongi says. ‘Gets old quick.’

‘I don’t want to pretend to be a good guy and get anyone’s hopes up,’ Namjoon replies.

‘She seems like she’s got her head on right,’ Yoongi comments.

Namjoon laughs, short. ‘It’s not her I’m worried about.’

Yoongi’s looking at him carefully. ‘That’s what I meant, Joon-ah. She’s not the kind of girl who hurts people on purpose.’

Namjoon changes the subject.

‘You looking to hook-up, Yoongi? White dress has eyes on you.’

‘Fucking always a white dress,’ Yoongi complains, but there’s a spark in his eye. ‘Like they want to get married or some shit.’

‘I think you’re the one with the marriage kink,’ Namjoon snarks.

‘Shut up. Asshole,’ Yoongi snarls, but he’s already turning, acting like he didn’t know this whole time that the pretty girl in the white dress has been eyeing him hard.

Namjoon scoffs, leaves him to it.

He has somewhere else to be.

***

Namjoon’d texted you he was gonna come walk you home after work, just so he doesn’t look like some creeper lurking out here outside the bar.

You come out the back door, a little tired, a little dishevelled.

You smile, and Namjoon’s heart does a dangerous swoop in his chest.

You’re the prettiest thing he’s seen all night.

‘Here,’ he says. ‘I got you a snack.’

You accept the sour candy, pop it straight in your mouth.

‘Ugh,’ teases Namjoon. ‘I’m not gonna kiss you now.’

You shrug, indifferent. ‘I’ll kiss your cock instead. It’s never an ass like you are.’

You slip your hand in his as you walk, casual.

Like it’s not the first time you’ve ever held hands.

Namjoon wants to tell you how pretty he thinks you are.

Instead he asks, ‘What panties are you wearing?’

You say, gently, ‘Shut up, Joon-ah.’

‘Make me.’

You scoff, look up at him.

See all the way through him.

‘You’re cute, Joon.’

You are too, Namjoon thinks.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut #bts smut

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alldevilsarehere90 · 6 months

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Title: Pretending Pairing: Daryl x Female Reader Summary: You'd been waiting long enough for Daryl to make it clear how he felt about you and now you were tired of waiting. Rating: 15+ (SFW) W/c: 1.6k Setting: Alexandria / Abandoned town Genre/Warnings: One shot / fluff / Romance / Friends to lovers / Bad language / slightly suggestive if you squint Prompts: "You wouldn't second-look me before the world went to shit, so don't pretend otherwise.' Requested by @ravenrose18 A/n: Tried to make this as fluffy as I could, I had to re-write it because I made it too angsty the first time, I can't help it, it's in my nature lol Enjoy

You'd had enough, enough of waiting for Daryl Dixon to make a move, enough of not knowing if he even wanted to. The mixed signals he gave you were sometimes enough to cause whiplash.

Your mind was made up, today was the day you would confront him and find out once and for all how he felt about you.

This morning, as you showered and got yourself ready to go on the run with him, you had been full of confidence, consumed by your plan and practising your confession repeatedly to yourself in the mirror. The words ran through your mind over and over, like a script you were trying desperately to memorise, as you head down the pathway leading to the gate.

As soon as you spot him waiting for you however, your bravado runs off, abandoning you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and second guessing your decision.

"Yer ready?" He asks, already seated on his motorbike and sends his cigarette shooting across the road with a flick as you approach him.

Nodding, you climb on, hands unsteady as they make their way around his waist.

Your clammy palms lock together to keep yourself in place. His scent instantly claims your senses; tobacco and leather with an added note of something so him, you couldn’t put your finger on it but breathed it in and relished it just the same.

The gate opens and as soon as it's a wide enough exit, his hands move and you speed off, leaving Alexandria a blur behind you.

The wind whips through your hair, sending it flying wildly around your face. You enjoy feeling the cool air ripple against your skin, calming your nerves and clearing your mind. Before you knew it, you found yourself leaning your cheek on Daryl's back, closing your eyes, enjoying the closeness and warmth radiating from him but when you notice him stiffen under you for a brief moment, back muscles pulled taute against the softness of your face, you almost sit upright again before feeling him slowly relax back into the journey.

But all too soon you had come to your destination and were forced to unwrap yourself from him.

An abandoned town sat a fair few miles from Alexandria that had been discovered by the two of you on the way back from another run. It was getting dark when you came upon it previously and you were both tired and dirty and just wanted to get home. Investigating in the dark is never a good idea if it is not necessary.

You'd agreed to come back a few short days later in the daylight to explore it and here you were. Staying near him, eyes constantly surveying your surroundings, while Daryl hid the bike in the opening of the woods.

The place seemed deserted, eerily so, with no sight of any one dead or alive. Odd but not unheard of.

You both get your weapons out ready and head into the surrounding buildings, searching one by one and finding a surprising amount of supplies and only a handful of walkers to deal with. It was shaping up to be a very successful run. And once you'd swept through the empty little town, taking anything you could use and putting it in your packs, you journeyed to the final building; a clothes store.

You both grab standard clothes in different sizes so there could be something for everyone and fill up the last of the space in your packs in the process.

Wandering the store and surveying the racks looking for anything new and interesting, when you spot a black cowboy hat, taking it off the shelf and searching around the rails for your companion. You spot him pulling items off hangers and shoving them into his bag. Quietly walking up behind him and placing the hat on his head with a giggle.

"Why, howdy there partner, fancy seeing ya in these neck'a the woods." You mock, in a deep southern accent. He turns to you, smiling, that same smirk that you've grown to love so much and never fails to make your heart beat faster.

“Ma’am.” He nods, flicking the brim of the hat, attempting to join in with your playfulness.

Your stomach quivers as you relish seeing this side of him, a side it seems only you can bring out. “Well, well, ya can take the boy outta the country but ya can’t take the country out the boy.”

He scoffs and tosses the hat at you, managing to land it on your head. “Suits yer better.”

You hold the brim and incline your head, “thank yer, thank yer very much.” You say, spinning off towards another section of the store, hearing his quiet laughter causing butterflies to fly rampant inside you.

A perfect cobalt blue sundress catches your attention and you head over to it. The material felt soft and thin against your fingers, perfect now the warmer weather was here. It wasn't until the sound of Daryl clearing his throat behind you, you realised he'd been watching.

"Why dun yer take it?" He asks, his bag full and slung over his shoulder.

Turning back to the dress, with your bottom lip caught between your teeth in hesitation, you shrug. "I've got no reason to wear it." You finger at the material one last time, admitting to yourself that you want it more because the colour matches Daryl's eyes than because of the way it feels. "What do you think?" You ask him, peeking at him slyly.

He shifts his weight to the other foot and picks at his nails. "Try it, see if yer like it" he nods his head towards the single dressing room.

You mull it over before agreeing that's probably best. If you don't feel good wearing it there's no point in taking it.

Shutting the door behind you as you enter the small space, you begin to remove your old clothes and slip the dress over your head. A little manoeuvring and smoothing the material down before you brave the mirror attached to the wall. You're not sure what you expected but it wasn't the sight that stared back at you.

You looked pretty. You haven't felt pretty in…well, in a very long time. Seeing yourself in this dress, as silly as it sounds, made the world seem as if it hadn't ended and it was just another day out shopping for something new. You take a moment to adjust to this version of yourself in front of you before slowly opening the door and hesitantly exiting. Peering around outside where you'd left Daryl, only to be met with nothing but still, quiet space.

"Daryl?" You whisper.

His face shot out in front of you, "yea," he replies, as he appears from inside the rack closest to the changing room. He laughs as you jump, clutching your chest but unable to help the grin stretching the corners of your mouth. Your hand playfully hit his chest, "you jerk."

His smile drops as his eyes fall to your outfit and he takes a step back to really look at you. A red tinge blooms across his cheeks as his eyes roam over your body, more skin on show than ever in this strappy, short dress.

Your stomach flips at the way he’s looking at you, feeling more confident than ever in how he feels about you.

"So, what do you think?" You say, giving him a spin and in the process sending the dress flying up a little higher than you intended.

He clears his throat again, "s'nice." His voice more quiet and raspier than usual. You enjoy watching his adams apple bob up and down following the loud swallow.

There was only a few centimetres of space between you, his radiating heat made you painfully aware of his proximity.

Reaching forward, fingers in search of his and when you find them his eyes dart downwards at the unexpected touch but they respond quickly and entwine with yours. It was the confirmation you needed, bringing your other hand to tuck some of his long hair behind his ear. But he dips his head, taking his gaze away from you.

"Hey," you whisper, cupping his face and pulling him up to look at you. "If you don't feel the same, you can say."

He scoffs. "If I dun feel the same?" He repeats in surprise. "I've wanted yer since the day we met."

Your heart jerks at his confession before galloping away your chest, part of its own solo race towards him but confusion spoils your happiness, not understanding as to why he seems so unsure. You wait with a questioning gaze on him, searching his eyes for answers.

Finally, he sighs, "Yer wouldn't second-look me 'fore the world went ta shit, so dun pretend otherwise."

You bring both your hands to either side of his face and wait until his eyes meet yours again. "Daryl Dixon, I can promise you, world ending or not, I would have second, third and fourth looked you."

His answering smile made you feel like you were getting through to him.

"No one is pretending here." You insist as your hands wind around his neck and you lean up on your tiptoes to be closer to his mouth. "I have waited and waited for you, Daryl. How about we don't waste anymore time?"

As soon as the last word passes your lips, his touch yours before you even have a chance to form your next thought.

His hands come up to your face, cradling you softly and caressing the skin of your cheeks with his thumbs. Everything in this moment was gentle, loving and far more passionate than you'd envisioned. You held each other close with a lingering desperation lurking beneath the surface, something to be explored when you were both ready.

When you finally break apart, breathing hard and hearts pounding, he slides his hands down your sides to clasp yours.

"Here's ta not wasting time." He says into the silence, placing a quiet kiss on the back of your hand. "Come on, let's go home."

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #twd

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

Locker Room (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: Swearing

Synopsis: When Y/N realises that Eddie was hiding in the girls locker room, she has the decision to out him or believe him that it was all just a big misunderstanding

Y/N notes: none

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

It was the perfect prank. Eddie thanked the freshman for the idea; stink bomb in the locker room. So simple yet so affective. The jocks had been getting more and more aggressive towards the Hellfire club and the dungeon master couldn’t take it anymore.

He snuck into the locker room whilst everyone was playing and cheering and looked around. Skirts… make up… no urinals…

Shit. This is the girls locker room.

He thanked the Gods that no one was in there. Eddie might be a freak but he was definitely not a perv. He turned on his heals to leave when he heard a group of people walking towards the room.

He froze in fear. The only other door in the room led to the basketball court where he could hear all the jocks still playing. He was trapped. Having no other option, he ran into one of the cubicles and locked the door. He stood on the toilet just before he heard the door burst open. The room suddenly filled with girls laughing and talking.

———————————————————————

Y/N walked over to where her stuff was and began to change out of her cheer uniform. She caught snippets of conversation from the other girls. Gossip, classes, how cheer practice went. She looked up at the toilet stalls in the adjacent room, noting that one was locked. She frowned.

I didn’t hear anyone go in there.

She looked around at the other girls. Everyone was here, no one was missing.

So who the hell was in the stall?

Her mind went to a girl, not from the cheer squad, who came in here to have a moment to herself. It happens to everyone. She probably just had a bad day and the last thing she would want is for all the popular girls to see her a mess.

Y/N opened her locker to get her notebook, ripped a small piece of paper out and grabbed a pen. She walked into the empty stall beside the occupied one and locked the door.

———————————————————————

Eddie kept his hand over his mouth, trying his best to not let the girl in the stall next to him hear the breathing. He looked down to see a piece of paper and a pen being slid under the wall.

You okay in there?

Shit. Shit shit shit. One of them knows. One of them knows I’m here. I’m dead. I’m so dead. Why hasn’t she told the others yet? Why am I not currently being attacked by pom poms and long nails?

Eddie read the note again. She, whoever she was, was asking if he was okay. That note didn’t sound scared or angry. It sounded concerned. He slowly picked up the paper and pen.

———————————————————————

Y/N saw the large ringed hand take her note and she knew.

Eddie Munson.

Y/N was perplexed. Not scared or disgusted that she had discovered a guy in the girls’ locker room. Just confused.

Yeah Eddie was a bit weird but she’d never think he would do something like this. He acted more gentlemanly than most of the jocks in fact. Holding doors open, giving up his chair when there were none left in the lunch hall. He even helped Y/N carry some cheer equipment across school once.

So was he doing what any other girl would think he was doing? Or was this some unfortunate circumstance? The note was passed back.

I promise I’m not in here for the reason you think.

Y/N chose to listen to her gut and believe him.

———————————————————————

Stay quiet. I’ll tell you when to come out.

Eddie was slightly relieved at that response. He couldn’t know for sure if it was a trick or not but what other choice did he have? He listened as the girl flushed the toilet and exited the cubicle, going over to the sink to wash her hands. Eddie stayed quiet like she said and began to listen to the girls chatting.

“Hey Y/N you were kinda in there for a while, you okay?” One girl asked.

Y/N. Y/N was the one helping him. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or not that the girl he was crushing on was his mystery hero. This was either gonna completely destroy him or make him fall even harder for her depending on how this goes.

———————————————————————

“Oh yeah I’m fine.” Y/N replied with a smile. “I’m just tired after practice so I’m moving a little slower. What are you guys talking about?”

“Jason Carver.” Another girl answered. “He’s taking Chrissy out on this big date tonight.” Y/N looked over at Jason’s girlfriend who was smiling shyly.

“Oh nice! Where you guys going?”

“I don’t know. He’s says it’s a surprise.” The girls all squealed with excitement.

“Y/N when are you gonna date someone?” Another cheer girl asked. Y/N sighed, having had this conversation countless times before.

“I don’t know guys, I don’t really care for dating.”

“Oh come on! You’re the only one of us who’s never had a boyfriend-“

“I just love how you guys keep bringing that up.“

“You must like someone. Or at least think some guy is cute? We’ll hook you up!” The girls all nodded. At this point in the routine Y/N would say she didn’t like anyone and the conversation would fizzle out. She looked over at the locked stall again and suddenly a mischievous thought came to her.

“Well… there is this one guy…” All the other girls screamed in excitement.

“Who?! Who is it?!”

“Is it Andy? Cause I think he likes you!”

“Oh em gee you’ve seen him staring at her too??”

“Yes!”

“Oh or is it someone else?? Maybe someone from band? A couple of those guys are cute.”

“Or from a class?? Don’t you sit next to Chance in history??” Y/N’s grin grew wider and wider the more hyped up the girls got.

“It’s.. Eddie.” The girls fell deadly silent, processing what she just said.

“Eddie…?” One of them questioned, waiting for her to say any surname other than the one they were all thinking of.

“Munson.” Y/N heard a shoe slip along a toilet seat. She coughed loudly, covering up the noise as well as suppressing her own laughter. The girls all looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

“The freak?” One girl finally spoke, starting the chorus of questioning.

“The guy who’s like definitely a cult leader?”

“He yells at us during lunch!” The girls all put their two cents in, trying to convince Y/N that she was wrong. The group finally began to quiet down, needing Y/N to explain further.

“I mean yeah he’s a little weird but don’t you guys find those eccentricities charming? Just a little?” Y/N suggested. The girls all pulled a range of disgusted faces. Y/N suppressed her laughter so she could continue. “Okay what about his eyes? You gotta admit he’s got pretty eyes. And you guys mentioned the boys from band? He’s in a band! Plays guitar.” The bell rang, signalling them to hurry up. They grabbed their bags and headed out the door.

Y/N sauntered over to the mirror to check her appearance, listening to the last comments the girls had before they all filtered out. The door shut behind the last girl leaving the locker room eerily quiet. Y/N looked over to the cubicle.

No noise.

She walked over to the door and knocked. She heard shuffling followed by the lock being pulled back. Y/N gave the door a little push.

“Aaaaaaaaand what’s behind curtain number one!” Y/N said theatrically. Eddie looked down at her, glaring. He pointed.

“You are a little minx, you know that?”

“Hey I just saved the last bit of your good reputation at this school. You should be thanking me.”

“Yeah thanks a lot L/N.”

“Oh come on I needed to get a little something out of this deal. So you gonna tell me why you were hiding in the girls locker room then?”

“It was a mistake.” Eddie put emphasis on his last word. “I was supposed to go into the boys one and throw this at them.” He took the stink bomb out of his pocket. Y/N leaned in closer to inspect then immediately took three steps back.

“FUCKing hell Eddie that smells disgusting.”

“Yeah that’s the whole point sweetheart.” He replied, putting it back in his pocket.

“So you still gonna do it?” Eddie shrugged.

“I don’t know. Not really in the mood anymore.” He leaned against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor, a defeated look on his face. Y/N suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. She just wanted to catch him off guard, not actually upset him. She stepped forward to stand in front of Eddie.

“Hey it was just a joke.” Y/N reassured. Eddie exhaled through his nose.

“Yup. I’m just a joke to you cheer girls.” He mumbled.

“Woah hey wait a sec. You think I just pulled all that stuff about you out of thin air?” Y/N knelt down, tilting her head lower in an attempt to see Eddie’s face. He looked away from her further.

“Why don’t you just go date one of those jocks since they’re all into you.” Eddie mumbled. Y/N paused before responding.

“You ever think the reason I’m not dating any of them is because jocks aren’t my type?” Eddie stopped. “Maybe my type is more metal head nerds who don’t know how to read gendered signs on doors before going in them.”

Eddie finally let out a little laugh, making Y/N smile. He looked up at her as she continued. “With sick guitar skills, and a charming disposition…”

“And pretty brown eyes?” Eddie added, leaning a little closer to her.

“The prettiest.” The two stare at each other for a moment, grins growing wider. “So, you gonna throw that stink bomb?”

“Maybe if I had a partner in crime to help me out…”

“I think I know someone.”

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries @ruhro7 @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski @gh0stm3g @lagataprrr @spencersbookbag @ygrworld @ambernicole90 @alwaysbeenfamous @angelsarecallin @voteforevilthoughts @iameddiemunsonshair @hellf1reclub

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #st eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #reader x stranger things #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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wordstome · 4 months

Text

Endless Nights - Price x Reader

I started thinking about Sandman again because of Barry Sloane as Destruction of the Endless and went back to reread everything Destruction is in, including his Endless Nights story. Now I can't stop thinking about Price x archaeologist reader...

1.7k, please forgive any archaeological or military errors I only took like 1 anthropology class two years ago

You've been on all sorts of digs, but this has got to be one of the most chaotic. Your team's been sent to this peninsula to unearth some recently discovered artifacts. They think it's remnants of a little-known indigenous population, and it's your job to dig everything up safely.

Only problem is, there's a military base on top of it.

"Maybe it won't be so bad. Military personnel are good at following orders," your coworker says while you're unpacking your tools.

You snort. "Yeah, but they're equally good at putting holes in things and blowing things up. I don't think they have a lot of respect for fragile ancient artifacts."

"Ouch," your coworker says, wincing and putting a hand to his chest in a mock expression of pain. "No love for our nation's bravest?" You roll your eyes at him.

"It's not like that. I'm just saying we need to be vigilant about keeping them away from work sites. Take no shit, as it were."

"With the military? Good luck, I guess."

It's not that you dislike or even distrust every single person who's ever been in the military, it's just that you don't have much faith in their ability to hold respect for your work. Archaeology is quiet, meticulous work, a far cry from gunfights and kicking doors in. You're going to be here for quite a while, and if you don't establish boundaries right out of the gate, you'll be fighting an uphill battle for the rest of the dig.

That's what you're telling yourself as you sit in a gray, featureless meeting room. You and your supervisor are supposed to be meeting with a John Price, a British SAS captain. Kate Laswell, an American CIA agent, told you he's the proxy you'll be cooperating with during the dig.

You're prepared for all sorts of men to walk through that door: a balding middle-aged man with a power trip, or perhaps some blustering meathead whose voice no longer goes lower than a shout. Instead, the man that walks through the door and shakes your supervisor's hand leaves you staring, just barely keeping it together enough so you're not drooling with your jaw on the floor.

He's hot.

Your head fills with static as he turns to you and hits you with possibly the most endearing smile you've ever seen on a man. It's not just that he's somehow pulling off the beard and mutton chops look, or that his rough British accent is making you feel some type of way down there. It's the way he walks, like it's heavy—

"Pleased to meet you," Price says, shaking your hand. His hand engulfs yours as he gives it a brief squeeze. It takes your every last brain cell to answer with something other than Please tell me you're not wearing a wedding ring because you're actually single.

The meeting consists of him and your supervisor laying ground rules while you nod mutely and try not to audibly moan when Price adjusts himself in his seat, his hips moving in a way that is definitely going to undo you if you think about it too hard.

You walk out of the meeting having barely survived, but confident that the whole ordeal was a one-time thing. He's just who you complain to if one of the soldiers stumbles into a work site and smashes one of the artifacts, after all. You'll never have to see him.

Except you do. Every day, multiple times a day, he's there. He's obviously got his own shit to do of course, but it's like you can't get away from him: walk into a tent, and he's there chatting to one of your coworkers. Eat a meal, and he's there talking to a squad of soldiers and clapping someone on the back with a hearty laugh. Turn a corner, and he's there to full-body slam into you—

"Pardon me, sweetheart. Didn't see ya there." You're ashamed to say you don't do much more than stare at him with what must be the most pathetic petrified doe eyes as he gives you a pat on the shoulder and goes on his merry way. That was like running into a solid brick wall...

It would be fine if it were just you having a silly little unreciprocated crush. You've had those before and survived. But what starts to get to you is the little things: the way his eyes flick to you when you enter his vicinity, accompanied by a nod. The way his eyes linger on you for a moment too long before looking away. The brief touches against your shoulders or hips when he's maneuvering past you in a small space.

Frankly, it's driving you crazy, and it's starting to show.

"If you dust that piece any harder, you're going to damage it," your coworker scolds you. You all but jump backwards from the piece you're working on. You'd been so absorbed in mentally dissecting his body language the last time you were in the same room as him that you'd brushed the piece far beyond the point of being clean.

This won't do. You have to do something about this.

Mercifully, you've been given your own individual room to sleep in, which is quite the luxury after a career full of sleeping in dusty tents or sharing bunks with coworkers. It also gives you enough privacy to...take care of business, as it were.

Obviously, you didn't bring any "tools of the trade" that weren't useful for your work, so it's just you and your hand past 11 pm. You feel beyond perverted, slipping a hand between your thighs as you think of Captain Price.

You can still feel the weight of his hands on your body, brief though they were, and picture what else those touches could be doing. Your own voice slips out in a moan as you imagine his, low and grumbling yet soothing while he pushes you into the sheets, that endearing smile turned devious and devastatingly sexy as he spreads you open for him with those hands of his and collects your wetness on his fingers...

Your heart jumps out of your chest as you hear a knock at the door. You all but fall out of bed, scrambling to pull on enough clothing to be decent. "J-just a minute!" you call, inwardly cursing yourself for how breathless you must sound.

You answer the door, flustered and a mess, to see the subject of all your fantasies staring there. For a split second, you're petrified by the possibility of Price having heard your desperate whines and whimpers and knocking on your door to politely ask you to quit cranking it in his barracks.

"Apologies, sweetheart. Hope I didn't wake you up?" His eyes are so striking, so sincere, that you know he could have woken you up from the best sleep of your life and you'd still be unable to be mad at him.

"No no, I was...no need to worry. What can I do for you?" you say, relief flooding through you. Of course he didn't hear you. He's not a total pervert like you.

"Well love, I...it's probably best if you come take a look for yourself," Price says, looking almost sheepish. Your heart sinks a little—this cannot be good.

He leads you out of the barracks towards one of the job sites, directing you towards a table with several excavated artifacts laid out. "One of my men thought it'd be wise to steal his mate's torch, had him stumbling around in the dark out here. He says he bumped one of these tables and heard something fall on the ground, and I figured you should know right away instead of waiting 'til the morning and having all sorts of people tramping through here."

You give him a brief grateful look before crouching down with a flashlight. After a bit of looking, you find the missing object: a thick shard of pottery, lying forlornly on its side by a table leg.

You reach forward to pick it up, but the captain has spotted it as well, resulting in his hand landing on top of yours over the pottery. For a brief, dizzying second, his hand lays heavy and warm over yours, and you could have sworn that his fingers had shifted as if to take your hand in his.

In a blink, the moment's over, and the captain's hand shoots back to his side. Trying not to make an utter fool of yourself, you push yourself back up to a standing position, examining the pottery shard with a discerning eye.

"Looks like no harm was done," you say to him with a smile. "Mayday averted."

"Good to hear. I'll make sure the knuckleheads who did this receive a thorough dressin' down for this incident." You're grateful that the warmth rushing to your face at his stern tone can't be seen in the dark as you carefully set the pottery back in its place on the table.

"I'll walk you back to the barracks. Can't have my favorite archaeologist stumblin' their way around themselves, now can I?" You nod mutely, unable to look at him for much longer than a few stolen glances.

The two of you are quiet all the way back to your door, where you stand in the hallway, fidgeting with your hands and feeling the urge to say something, anything. "Thank you," you blurt out. "For not waiting until tomorrow morning. There's no telling what foot traffic would have done before we noticed the missing piece."

"Your work's important, love. And while you're here, you're our guests. It'd be rude to not be taking care of your work, wouldn't it?" You nod shyly, basking in the warmth of his attention.

You're frozen to the spot as he leans in to whisper directly in your ear, his lips brushing against it. "Next time you're relievin' a bit of tension, feel free to stop by my quarters, yeah? I think you'll find there's a lot more I can take care of than just your work."

Your eyes go as wide as saucers as he winks at you. Before you can even process what just happened, he's already walking away from you down the hall.

Feeling like you've just been handed some delicious and forbidden secret, you whirl around to shut yourself into your room, sliding down with your back against the door to sit on the floor. Did that truly just happen? Are you hallucinating? Or had you fallen asleep by accident and you're really just having some beautiful, delusional dream?

It doesn't feel like a dream when you realize you're soaking wet.

God, I cannot wait until Barry Sloane's Destruction promo images drop. For reference, these are the posters we got for season 1:

To be very honest, I wrote this like a possessed woman in the span of like an hour. I don't think there's going to be a part 2 unless you guys really get me going with some new ideas 😅

Also, I don't have a tag list (because I write almost exclusively for one particular Austrian), but I will tag my beloved @danibee33, and @ceilidho, as thanks for giving me Barry Sloane brainworms.

#price x reader #captain price x reader #price x you #captain price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #john price #captain john price #captain price #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #mw2 #Barry sloane

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