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strang3lov3 · 2 hours

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You and Joel both know how he got that virus on his computer, and you can’t help but to relentlessly tease him in more ways than one…until Joel’s had enough.

Alternatively, Joel should really stop clicking on links that Tommy emails him. (7.6k)

Tags - neighbor!joel, grumpy!joel, pre/no outbreak, porn watching, joel straight jorkin’ his peanits, teasing, lingerie, handjobs, upside down blowjobs (like what happened in spider man), rough sex, manhandling, oral (f receiving), come eating, fingering, overstim, soft dom!joel, porn watching, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described Fic Help - @joeloverture, @joelsgreys, and @endlessthxxghts for their beautiful brains, and @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for editing and patiently explaining dial up internet to me for this fic 🩷👾📀🖥️ Patti, I seriously cannot thank you enough. You made this fic fucking perfect. A/N - sorry for the delay on getting joel out to you in a timely manner, he should be cumming a lot more frequently…maybe. I do have a vacation I’m leaving for in less than a week. Also, thank you for all the well wishes and participation on my anniversary/5k celebration, I love you all so very much 🩷

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You know what you came here for. Grumpy, technologically inept Joel fucking the daylights out of you below 👇🖥️🦠🛜👾😍🍑👅💦🍆

It's early evening on a Saturday and finally time for Joel to enjoy his day off. He spent the day doing yard work, grocery shopping, and chauffeuring his daughter to and from soccer games. Saturdays are never really very relaxing for him, so when he has a quiet moment, like right now, he takes advantage.

Joel draws the curtains closed in his kitchen as he stares at his computer setup and contemplates, even though his mind is already made up. It’s a sign - there’s a Victoria’s Secret coupon set that’s been sitting on his kitchen counter since this morning, addressed to you of course. Damn mailman can’t get anything right.

He sits down on the chair in front of the monitor and powers the machine on, opens the tower’s disc drive and inserts his AOL CD before opening the matching AOL application. He has a post-it taped to the bottom of a drawer next to him that he reads from every time to remember his username and password. Joel grumbles to himself as he unzips his jeans, something about ‘damn thing’s always takin’ too long to load’ as the screen goes from dialing to connecting to connected. Netscape takes even longer to load, but when it finally does Joel visits his favorite website, victoriassecret.com. He works his half-hard cock in one hand, feeling it stiffen in his palm as the screen loads slowly, images of lingerie-clad models coming to life bit by bit. Joel groans and squeezes himself.

He knows that jerking off to Victoria's Secret advertisements is juvenile at best. He knows other porn exists, he’s got old dirty Playboy magazines from his teenage years and even some bootleg VHS tapes that his brother Tommy copied for him. He’s tried to watch them, but they’re all sort of sterile and awkward, the dialogue fake and the women’s moans exaggerated and over the top, it takes him out of the fantasy. They can also only be played on the television in the living room, which is not ideal for a number of reasons.

Joel also knows that the women in these advertisements are not real, that they’re airbrushed and photoshopped to the point of looking like Barbie dolls. He knows that they have more curves and body hair than what he’s looking at on his screen, that they have cellulite, stretch marks, and all of the other things he loves on a woman’s body. But Joel is nothing but a man, and a lonely one at that. A hard worker and a dedicated father, he doesn’t have much time for dating. And importantly to Joel, Victoria’s Secret advertisements allow him to do something his dirty magazines and bootleg VHS tapes can’t - use his imagination.

Oh yes, Joel loves when a little mystery is left for him, to pique his interests. He loves to imagine what the model’s breasts look like, if they’re more round-shaped, or like tear drops. Would they hang heavy, swaying when she moved, or would they point outward, petite and perky? How dark or light are their nipples and what would they look like when hard? He loves to picture their vulvas, to visualize what their folds would look like spread in front of him, to envision how they maintain their pubic hair. He wonders what they look like when they’re wet, lips all swollen. It thrills him, excites him.

His eyes are squeezed shut and he’s pumping his cock when a loud email notification from [email protected] interrupts him. “Fuckin’ Tommy,” he mutters, clicking on the popup.

here’s this for your spank bank pervert

No greeting, no goodbye, nothing capitalized and no punctuation. Just one blue link and nothing else. Joel rolls his eyes but clicks the link anyway, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.

Just like before, it takes a moment to load but when it finally does, Joel blushes. It’s a porn site where people appear to upload their own porn. It seems expansive, all sorts of categories. Immediately, Joel’s intrigued - he didn’t realize that this kind of stuff was available online. He guesses that he probably should have known that, but rationalizes that he doesn’t use the internet much. His computer is meant for a few things - playing Microsoft Pinball, emailing clients, and browsing Victoria's Secret during times like this. But this - this might’ve just changed the game.

From the thumbnails, these appear to be real people. People of all ages, from young adults to older lovers. Nudity plastered across his screen in all different shapes and sizes, a variety of lengths and cup sizes before him. There are people consensually exploring kinks and couples in love, everyone engaging in a variety of different sexual acts from solo stuff to threesomes to orgies. This has it all, gay, straight, and everything in between. After scrolling through, Joel notices that there’s a little magnifying glass to search for whatever one may fancy. Joel clicks on this and he first searches ‘boobs’. Then ‘big boobs’, ‘small boobs’, ‘blowjobs’, ‘doggy style’. With each search term he types in, the screen loads with various videos of his request. And then, just for shits and giggles, he searches for his favorite - ‘lingerie’.

The results are everything he dreamed of. Forget Victoria’s Secret, this has it all. Women of different sizes and skin tones, all in various stages of undress. Some wearing bras and panties, others wearing lace babydolls and teddies. One particular thumbnail has his interest piqued, though. It’s a woman in a robe, leaning towards the camera so her cleavage is showing. “Let me strip tease you ;)” is the title of her video.

CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

She doesn’t need to tell Joel twice. Joel clicks the link and watches a little popup on his screen indicate that a video is downloading. Once downloaded, he opens the file and begins to watch the video. The woman featured is cute, he thinks. She’s a curvy redhead and she’s teasing, smiling - he likes that. Those Victoria's Secret models don’t smile like this. She lifts her lacy pink robe and shows her ass where there’s a cute little heart-shaped peekaboo cutout in her panties. Joel likes that too. Joel’s been absentmindedly stroking himself and he sighs in contentment. She’s about to open her robe, show him her breasts and–

Windows System Alert

Error Code: 0x80070070

Your computer has encountered a critical issue due to a potentially harmful program. This issue has affected system files and may cause instability or loss of data.

Please take the following actions immediately:

Save all work in progress.

Disconnect from the internet.

Run a full system scan with your security software.

For further assistance, contact technical support.

“Well, that ain’t right,” Joel mumbles. Joel clicks on the little red X in the top right corner to make it disappear, but the popup is right back where it was, blocking that cute redhead from giving Joel a virtual show. He tries closing the message again, it pops right back up. Growing slightly irritated, Joel closes the media player altogether and reopens the downloaded strip tease video. It won’t open. “The fuck?” He tries opening an old untitled document from months ago, and yet again he’s met with the same error message. The popup is arriving in multiples now, blocking his screen. It’s like whack-a-mole, the way he’s closing one and two more pop up in its place.

Joel’s out of his depth here, so he decides to consult an expert. He lives right across the street from a total computer whiz, so he’ll ask her for help. He tucks himself back into his jeans with a soft groan, zips and buttons his jeans before making his way to her house.

You’re vacuuming your floor when you think you hear the faint sound of knocking, so you turn around to see a figure standing on your porch through your window. It’s Joel. Devastatingly handsome, grumpy, single dad.

You and Joel got off to a rocky start when you moved into the neighborhood a couple years back. He used to hound you about letting your grass grow too long, and you’d argue back by telling him that it’s good for the environment. Growing tired of your protesting, Joel decided to start mowing your lawn for you, without your consent. Not that you really minded, he always wears his grass-stained white and navy New Balance sneakers, his few-inches-too-short denim cutoffs and an old white tank top, stained with grease and his own sweat. It clings to his body, outlining his soft belly. His slightly graying but dark, damp curls cling to his perspiring forehead as his thick thighs clench with every step he takes, pushing that heavy lawnmower up and down your front yard. You compensate him with glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade, offer him a cool wash rag that he wipes his forehead with, the sweat and water dripping down his temple, over the stubble on his jaw. Tensions softened then, and Joel’s been a nice neighbor to have ever since. He, his brother and daughter are good people.

You tap the button on the bottom of your vacuum cleaner with your toe, shutting it off before opening the door for Joel. He looks a little disheveled - he’s breathing heavily, pupils blown wide. “You busy right now?”

“For you? You know I’m always too busy,” you smirk, tapping your foot against his shoe.

“Yeah, whatever. Listen, I’m findin’ myself in need of your computer expertise. Would you be able to help me, darlin’?”

It’s the way Joel calls you darlin’, how he flashes those sparkling, chocolate eyes at you, bats his long lashes and smiles at you in such a way that you’re sure he’s deliberately trying to send you to an early grave. You’re wrapped around Joel’s finger but nevertheless, you work your angle. “My time is precious, Joel. How will you make it worth my while?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “Oh, give me a break. I’ll mow your lawn. Does that work for you, princess?”

“You already mow my lawn.”

“Yeah, and I’ll keep mowin’ it. How’s that?”

“Cheap,” you quip. But you still smile and close the door behind you, and Joel blushes as you unknowingly take the hand Joel was just pleasuring himself with in yours, swinging your arms between you playfully as you cross the street to his house together. Your skin tickles when Joel places a hand on your lower back, guiding you to his computer setup before pulling out the chair for you. You log into his computer using his own username and password, something you know by heart. Joel has forgotten his password so many times, he used to call you - at a minimum - twice a week to ask you what it was. The only solution to that issue was for you to write it down on a post-it note and stick it next to the monitor for him. He absolutely hates that you’ve made him put dollar signs and exclamation marks in his password. “Seems unnecessary,” is what he would say, annoyance lacing his tone.

You retorted with, “Well if you can’t even get into your own computer, how could anyone else?” and Joel shrugged and nodded.

Joel pours both himself and you a glass of ice water, then sits down at the dining room table behind you. “So it’s uhh…” he starts, interrupting himself to sip his water. “Got this error message thing when you click on a file.”

Clicking a file, you see the error popup Joel’s referring to. “I see,” you mumble, clicking on a few others. Joel watches your brows furrow in concentration, a frown painting your lips.

Oh, shit. Joel didn’t even think to delete that file. “W-what is it? Why’re you makin’ that face?”

“I’m diagnosing.”

Right. Of course you are. You haven’t seen anything you’re not supposed to see, because it’s not like the files would magically start opening for your eyes only. Right? “What’s the verdict, doc?” Joel jokes, hoping you don’t hear the way his voice wobbles slightly with anxiety.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, “Not good,” you reply. “All of your files are corrupted, I thin–”

Joel interrupts, “What’s that, what’s corrupted? Is that bad?”

“Your turn,” you interrupt back, cocking an eyebrow at his impoliteness. It’s very unlike him.

“M’sorry, hon. Go ‘head, sorry.”

Joel needs to get it together. He’s fidgety and high-strung. He needs to calm down. It’s fine. It will be fine. You’re gonna work your magic and you’re not gonna see anything you’re not supposed to see. When you’re done, you’re gonna go home and Joel will go right back to his private time as previously scheduled - that’s probably what his biggest problem is, he’s blue-balled himself and he’s all wound-up. Problem will be fixed, easy peasy.

“When did you say this problem started again?”

“Uh, just a little bit ago,” Joel answers, walking over to the sink and getting himself a glass of water. “Thirsty?”

“No, thanks. What websites do you visit?”

Joel watches you browse his files and mess with the system preferences on his computer. “The weather mostly, or Amazon.. Orderin’ books for Sarah.” Which is a total lie, but he justifies this in his head by telling himself that you don’t need to know what website he visits the most. It’ll embarrass you both. And actually, Sarah prefers to go to the library. She even went today.

“Anything else?”

Joel lies again, “Check the news from time to time, check my team’s scores.”

You hum in response and continue typing. Joel wishes he could type like that, watching your fingers effortlessly fly across the keyboard. He likes the sound it makes, the quiet clicking and the tapping of your manicured fingernails. “What about emails, you avoiding those scams I told you about?”

“Yes.”

“Clicking on chainmail?”

“I am not.”

“Not anymore,” you mumble under your breath. Joel rolls his eyes. You’ll never let it go, will you?

Chainmail is how you became Joel’s IT girl. For a couple of months, you’d received various emails from him that were just copy-paste chainmail messages. You know, the ones that say things like ‘Click here to verify your account information. Send to 10 friends and family members to verify their accounts as well.’ You’d just delete, delete, delete, and reply back asking him to stop emailing you these things. But Joel never stopped, day after day he’d send you chainmail. After receiving what felt like the eightieth spam email from [email protected], you decided to confront him.

Joel awoke from an accidental afternoon nap to rather incessant knocking coming from his front door. He opened it only to find you on his porch, where you then proceeded to invite yourself inside. “What happened to hello?” he asked, his voice all sexy and raspy and his eyes tired, lines indenting his face from laying on the couch. He yawned, running his fingers through his curls to try and tame the bed head. You wondered if he always looked this handsome when he woke up.

“Sorry, hi,” you corrected. “Need to borrow your computer. Please.”

Yawning again, Joel sleepily gestured to his computer in the kitchen. “Knock yourself out. Damn thing ain’t actin’ right, though.”

You powered the machine on logged in using the post-it taped to his wall, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. Upon logging in and connecting to the internet, you noticed all sorts of glitches. Not even your computer ran consistently smoothly, but Joel’s was a wreck. Popups and error messages of all different kinds littered the screen, blocking the cute picture of himself and Sarah he had set as the background. “Wow, I couldn’t tell,” you teased. “You have more errors than you do applications on this thing, Joel.” Joel only shrugged in response. “Come sit by me,” you said.

Joel pulled up a seat next to you. “I wanna show you something. Can I open your email?”

“Go right ahead, hon.”

You opened Joel’s email and found his ‘sent’ box, where the last sent email was addressed to you. You clicked it and it opened to his last sent piece of chainmail. “I’ve asked you to stop sending me these emails,” you told him.

Joel looked crushed almost, a look of puzzlement and what might’ve been hurt momentarily painting his features. “You have?”

“I have.”

The chainmail on the screen was a common one he’d send you, the one asking you to give up your information to protect yourself. “I was only tryin’ to be neighborly. I thought you’d like ‘em, y’know - want you to keep yourself safe.”

It was endearing, the way he explained himself. How he wanted you to stay safe. Your frustration dissipated, only to be renewed as you looked in his spam folder to find all of your replies to him in there instead of his main inbox. “Joel, why am I in your spam folder?” you asked, sighing. Joel simply shrugged and you didn’t even have words. By the look on his face, he probably didn’t even realize he had a spam folder, much less knew what one was. But you had greater concerns. “What are those emails supposed to keep me safe from?”

“Well, from…” Joel’s mouth hung open as he thought about it, looked up and to the side as he began to realize he didn’t have an answer. “Uhh–”

“You don’t know, do you?” Joel shook his head. “Exactly. It’s called phishing, these emails you’ve been sending me aren’t real. They’re trying to get peoples’ personal information, like, look–” you pointed to the screen, showing Joel an example, “See? Here, it’s asking for your bank information.”

“And I wasn’t ‘sposed to give them that?”

You tilted your head in disappointment, “Joel.”

Joel groaned and leaned back in his chair, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Fuckin’ idiot.”

You were about to tell him to call his bank, but he was already on it. He pulled his Nokia phone from his belt clip and called his bank to explain the situation. As you went through his inbox and deleted each and every one of the hinky-looking emails, you listened to Joel on the phone.

“Didn’t realize there were these uh…email scams…Yeah, that charge was me. And that too…

…Will you call me f’ya see anything suspicious? Okay.

…Okay. Thank you, ma’am. Thank you. You too.”

From what you heard of the phone call, it seemed that he was safe. You guessed that Joel’s technological ineptitude is probably what had saved him, that he likely mistyped or misunderstood what the scam was attempting to do. You continued to delete scams and other malware-adjacent things from his computer as Joel hung up the phone call and sat back down with you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, s’all good.”

Joel looked shaken, though. You touched his hand sympathetically and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re gonna learn some internet safety today.”

“Figured. I need it.”

“Yeah, you do,” you smiled. You went through his email, pointing out all the different scams. You told him not to click on links that look like this and that. This is a scam, this is too. You told him that anything attempting to sell fireworks, guns, or anything else at the low, low price of x amount isn’t real. And no, these emails here do not mean that you won a new TV or the lottery or a cruise. Anything that seems too good to be true definitely is. “...Actually,” you began, “All of these are from Tommy. New rule, don’t click on anything from Tommy.”

“Noted,” Joel replied. “I didn’t know any ‘a this.”

“Most people don’t. It’s new, yet. But you know now, so it’s okay.”

Joel breathed a sigh of relief, but he still looked overwhelmed. This time he took your hand and squeezed it. After a moment, he asked you where you learned all of this from. You explained you picked a lot of it up in school, just learning things here and there. Joel let you talk about it all and seemed genuinely interested and impressed.

“I went through and fixed all that was giving you trouble, by the way. Your computer should be running smoother,” you said. “And I changed your password. ‘abcde’ is not a good password, Joel.”

From that day forward, you became Joel's official computer girl. He’d call you and have you help him when he couldn’t get his computer connected to the printer, when he screwed with the settings and the computer didn’t look or act the way he was used to. Even the most basic things, like whenever he had a new picture of himself and Sarah he wanted to change the background to. Not that you minded, you’d jump at any opportunity to poke fun at your handsome neighbor’s lack of computer knowledge.

“Did you click on any links from Tommy?”

Joel goes quiet at that, remembering your very specific rule to not engage with him over email. He looks down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs together. “I might’ve…one or two, maybe”

“What kind of links?”

“There– Fuck, I don’t know. You know, just…websites. They take me to websites. But I don’t give ‘em my information,” he insists.

“What’s on these websites?”

Joel thinks fast. “Truckparts,” he answers too quickly, and the two words come out as one. “Just truck parts,” he says again, slower.

“Well, you must’ve been looking at some sketchy truck parts. You’ve got a virus.”

“Okay,” he says. “Figured as much. But you’ve fixed those before for me, haven’t you?”

“I have, but this one means business,” you reply, shaking your head. You start to type a bit, click the mouse as you go through and attempt to delete corrupted files, but it’s not working the way it should. You open Netscape and check the browsing history to see if that can clue you in as to what website could have done this to Joel’s computer. “You said it just started?”

“Just started, yeah,” Joel affirms.

Which…tracks.

Today, Saturday, June 25, 2003

5:06 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/lingerie

4:54 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/doggy-style

4:50 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/blowjobs

4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/small-boobs

4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/big-boobs

4:45 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/home

His search history is nothing but porn, which you’re 99% sure is exactly what caused the virus. The time stamps all show that the site was visited within the last hour, and Joel says it just started, so…

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

“Well,” you say, hesitating before answering fully. “I am looking at your search history.”

Joel stares at the monitor like a deer in the headlights. “There’s - my uh…” he swallows thickly, “They keep records of that?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I told you - just….lookin’ at parts,” Joel’s hand wobbles slightly as he sips on his water.

“Yeah, lady parts.”

Joel sputters on his drink, choking and coughing as he slams the glass down and water spills everywhere. He uses the bottom of his t-shirt to clean his mess as he begins to turn red, feeling his chest and neck and cheeks begin to warm. He can’t even look at you, but he hears your giggles and he can picture your smug grin and he wishes so badly he was dead right now. You’ve seen it all, you know everything. You know it and so does he. He’s gaining the courage to look at you and oh god - you’re scrolling through the dirty website. Giggling, you’re looking at everything he looked at, fucking everything. You’re seeing the same dicks he saw, the same pussies, seeing the purple links that indicate exactly what he’s already clicked on. “Yeah, laugh it up,” he says angrily, defensively. “Ain’t that funny.”

Joel’s world is ending, but it’s really not as bad as he thinks it is. The porn is tamer than what’s often found on the internet, much tamer than the shit you watch. You continue to explore the site as you listen to Joel tell on himself behind you.

“It’s just somethin’ to pass the time,” he says. “It’s natural, alright? And I know you do it too.” He’s deflecting. Even still, he’s not wrong, you certainly do take part.

You just let him keep talking, relishing in having the upper hand in this situation. “You’re blushing,” you tell him when he quiets down, just to get him started and riled up again as you browse the site. You notice a lot of videos are duplicates, prompting users to download the same thumbnail uploaded by different usernames. Whatever Joel clicked on was probably not uploaded by a real person, though. He clocked on a gibberish username made up of random letters and numbers, unlike some other videos uploaded under actual names. Like Joel’s new found friend ‘cherry_girl_xo’, whose username link is purple. You smirk at that, turning around to look at Joel who definitely recognizes her. He’s bright red everywhere.

You’re sure this website is the culprit, but you check the rest of his search history to see if any other clue lies in there, but see nothing of import. All you notice are various links to victoriassecret.com, over and over and over again. Based on that and his last searched term on that shady porn site, you can safely assume he’s got a thing for lingerie. Which - funnily enough, you’re wearing right now. Not the kind of lingerie Joel’s been beating off to, but similar. You’re wearing your laciest undergarments, a lavender colored bra with a matching thong. They’re your laundry day underwear, you know the kind - five years old and been sitting at the bottom of your underwear drawer untouched for four of those years, not very comfortable and only to be worn when you’ve just gotten off your period and all of your cotton bikinis and boyshorts are in the wash. That kind.

After toying with Joel’s computer for a while longer while he twists uncomfortably in agonizing humiliation, you decide there’s not much else that can be done. “I think we have to wipe it all, Joel,” you tell him. “Delete everything and start fresh.”

Joel nods quietly. “Will I still be able to play pinball after?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure you can play pinball,” you chuckle.

“Wipe it, then.”

And so you start the process, which will take a long while. The screen loads and loads as you and Joel wait quietly. You look at Joel, who’s got an elbow on the table as he rests his forehead in his palm. “What?” he snaps, noticing you staring at him. You can’t fight the giggles from erupting. “Would you quit fuckin’ gigglin’ like that? You know that a man’s got needs and I ain’t hurtin’ anyone–” You contort your lips into a forced frown, pressing them into a thin line and then covering your mouth to keep your laughter at bay, but you’re struggling. Joel can see the amusement still sparkling in your eyes and says your name in a warning tone.

“I’m sorry,” you smile, raising your hands in surrender. “I won’t laugh. I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Better be,” he grumbles. He drinks the last of his water quietly as you think about something, something that’s been heavy on your mind for the last couple of minutes. What if Joel knew what you were wearing beneath your clothes? You’ve made this afternoon absolute hell for him and you know that - but you don’t care. You’ve had too much fun getting under his skin to stop now.

The real dirty work begins when you unzip your sweatshirt and hang it over the back of your chair. When Joel looks at you, you bring your hand to your shoulder and gently pull up on your bra strap, letting it snap your shoulder.

Joel shifts in his seat and clears his throat, “You warm or somethin’?”

“Yeah, it’s a little hot in here.”

“Mm,” Joel spins his now empty glass between his thumb and pointer finger. When he looks back at you, he flips the glass. You’ve pulled the top of your tank top down, your lacy bra and cleavage on full display. He tries to make two moves at once, catch the rolling glass and cover his crotch because he’s just gone erect. “Cute. I would appreciate it if you’d knock that off now, I get the picture. S’real funny,” he mutters as he scrambles.

“What picture?” you ask innocently.

“Oh, don’t you start. You know exactly what damn picture,” Joel snaps. “You figured it out. Got a certain fondness for ladies in lace. You feel clever or somethin’?”

You really can’t bite back your smile this time, “Mhm.”

“You shouldn’t. You’re exploitin’ my vulnerabilities, takin’ cheap shots and–” Joel’s jaw drops as he watches you unbutton your jean shorts and show off your panties, the little bow at the center of them nicely on display. His look of shock quickly turns into a glare as you take off your tank top. “Like that, that’s playin’ dirty. Put your shirt back on and zip yourself back up. What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. You really don’t. This is just as surprising to you as it is to Joel, but the look on his face tells you that you’re definitely having way more fun than he is.

“God, you’re killin’ me,” he groans. The way you’re so cavalier about this all has Joel both flummoxed and irate.

But you’re not this bold usually, not really. Joel must not have noticed the way your hands have been trembling, must not have heard your slightly shaky breaths. He’s been avoiding eye contact too much to notice you’ve been doing the same. “Why?”

“Why? Cause I’m only a man and you’re gettin’ me all worked up. You’re takin’ advantage of me and my biology,” Joel gestures angrily to his crotch. He’s not even bothering to hide it anymore - you’ve seen it all and know what you’ve done to him. “You proud?”

“You’re–”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ hard - been hard. Didn’t get to take care of myself ‘cause of the fuckin’ virus and here you are teasin’ and temptin’ me and…Hon, what’re you -” Joel’s angered expression turns to momentary confusion when you stand up, then turns to contentment when you straddle his lap. You press your core into his thick bulge, holding onto his shoulders for stability. “What are you doin’?” he sighs, his head falling backward.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For teasing.”

“Yeah, so you say, princess.”

You grind yourself on his lap and when Joel brings his head forward to search for your eyes, he notices how your eyes flicker away from his. Like maybe you’re not as in control of this situation as you appear to be.

“I am.”

“Mm,” Joel hums. You’re reaching between your bodies and fumbling with the button on his jeans. He sucks in his soft belly to unbutton them for you, wraps his strong hand around your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth. “Gimme this,” he mumbles, spitting into your hand before he shoves it under the waistband of his boxers. A pang of arousal floods your gut at the action.

You palm his warm, heavy cock, feeling him thicken in your hand, though he’s already so hard. You can feel his rigid member throb and ache as you work his shaft up and down, up and down, your knuckles brushing against his thatch of coarse curls and his tummy. It’s evident how much he’s needed this, what with the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths, soft groans escaping his lips as he does so.

Joel enjoys himself as you work him. “Fuck,” he whispers. You look down between your bodies to admire his member, the blushed, leaking tip and the thick and prominent veins. And he’s so smooth, his skin almost silky. You watch his blissed out face, contemplate kissing those pink, pouting lips of his. You’re gonna do it, bringing your face close to his. Brushing your lips ever so softly over his, Joel moves to kiss you fully when you pull back. His computer makes that signature Windows startup sound,

“I have to take care of that,” you murmur. You dismount Joel and he picks up where you leave off, stroking his own cock just like you were. He watches your nearly naked body with hooded eyes that flutter shut as you work, typing quietly on his keyboard. You set his username and password the same, make sure that things open as they should. For Joel’s own protection, you block [email protected].

“Finished?” Joel asks as you stand up from your seat in front of his computer.

“Mhm,” you reply, gripping his shoulder with your hand as you bend over halfway to pick up your discarded top and kiss his cheek. “Have fun with your Victoria’s Secret girls, Joel.”

Your work here is done. You’ve fixed Joel’s computer and by the look on his face, broken his heart. “What are you doing?”

You smile, too proud of yourself as you begin to walk away. Before you can walk further, Joel stands up and reaches across the table, grabbing you by the forearm and forcing you onto your back. “You ain’t gettin’ away from me that easy, princess,” he says. “I still got somethin’ that needs fixed.” Joel displays strength but is as gentle as can be, though the cold, hard wood against your spine and your shoulder blades hurt you for a moment. Your eyes widen in shock, but it’s a welcome pain. “Knew you weren’t fuckin’ sorry,” Joel spits. Your head dangles off the edge of the table and Joel uses a hand to open your mouth, forcing two of his thick fingers inside. Instinctually, you curl your tongue around the digits, sucking and licking. You can taste his cock on his fingers from when he was pleasuring himself just moments ago.

Joel pumps himself in his hand for a second before guiding his thick head to your lips, pushing past them in one quick thrust, right to the back of your throat so you gag. He likes that noise. “I give you an inch,” he grunts, “And you take a mile.” You slide your tongue over those thick veins of his you’d previously traced with your fingertips. Joel draws out of your mouth slowly, allowing you to lick his weeping slit before pushing himself back in. “It would’ve been courteous of you to keep my dirty secret to yourself, but you couldn’t even do that. Went an’ humiliated me instead, then you got the nerve to try ‘n leave me high and dry? I don’t think I deserve that.”

Joel wants to fuck your mouth until your lips are raw and swollen, show you just what he thinks of your stunt. But he demonstrates self control, allows you to take him at your own pace and yet, you continue to tease. It’s like it’s innate or something, the way you continue to only give little by little, savoring the saltiness of his precome. He gives you one last warning, “You really should learn when to quit while you’re ahead, hon.”

You persist anyway. Wrong move. Joel fucks himself into your mouth with no regard for your comfort, taking what he needs from you. It’s sloppy and messy, his heavy balls bouncing off the tip of your nose. You wish you could see him, see the way he’d glare at you. He’s flipped like a switch, previously holding himself back from having his way with you like he wanted to. He’s taking it now. All the softness in him is gone, and you fucking love it. You reach forward, sliding your hand down your stomach, dipping it beneath your panties. You spread your legs wide and your fingers hover over your pussy, feeling that wet heat radiating from your core. Just as you let your fingers drop to touch your aching clit, you feel Joel lunge forward and pull your hand away. “Nuh-uh, not where I eat. Where are your manners, princess?”

He fucks your mouth relentlessly, holding the sides of your head in his big hands. He watches the way your lace-covered tits bounce with his every thrust. He pushes himself deeper and deeper, ignoring your sputtering and choking on his cock. Your eyes prick with tears as your jaw begins to ache, really fucking ache. Joel doesn’t stop himself, and it’s not like he would if he knew you were crying like this. He fills the air with his own grunting and groaning, relishing in the warmth of your wet, soft mouth.

And then he’s done. No slowing to a standstill, just abruptly pulls out. You hear his heavy footsteps as he rounds the kitchen table, hooks his fingertips beneath the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down, pulls your hips close to his so your face is no longer dangling off the edge. He pulls your panties to the side, drags his thumb up and down your slick folds and it’s like the quiet before the storm.

He notches himself in your entrance and pushes himself in, inch by inch by inch. Slowly, deliberately, so that you feel all of the stretching and aching he wants you to. “Joel,” you cry. “Fuck, Joel, please, I can’t–”

“You’ll get used to it,” he purrs. He leans over you as he fucks you slowly, holding your neck with his thumb on your jawbone while he kisses you to quiet you down, licking into your mouth and swirling his tongue around with yours. You whimper softly into his mouth with his every thrust, the pain not yet completely dissipated, but pleasurable in its own way. “Spread your legs. Wider.”

You open yourself up for him, allowing him to fuck himself deeper into you. You accept it all as he wraps your legs around his waist, your heels bouncing on his ass. The head of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, pleasure beginning to take over your senses and you moan. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Feels good, don’t it? Maybe this whole virus fiasco was a blessing in disguise, darlin’,” Joel says, “Feels good f’me too.”

You cry out loudly when he puts your legs up on his shoulders, the new angle has him inside you even deeper than before. He sits you up a bit, putting your arms behind your back and pressing your palms down flat on the table with his own.

He draws out of you and fills you up again, over and over and over. “Fuck, look at us,” he kisses your ankle a couple of times, “Look,” Joel looks down where your bodies meet and you join him, watching how his cock slides in and out of you, all wet and coated in your slick. Panties still pulled to the side, your skin is irritated where the fabric tugs and scratches at your skin. He maintains a quick rhythm, rolling his hips into yours.

“Make me come, Joel, I want to come.”

“Oh, I’ve got no doubt you do. But maybe I’ll leave you high and dry like you were gonna do to me, see how you like it. What a waste that’d be, huh?” You whine at the threat and Joel smiles deviously, he likes having you at his mercy like this. All pathetic and begging for him to let you come undone. “You’re nothin’ but talk, aren’t you?”

“Make me come, please.”

“You’ll have to convince me,” he says. “You heard me, convince me. Better make it quick.”

Your brain is short-circuiting, you can’t even process what Joel said and begin to make your case. You feel him twitching, his hips stuttering and before you know it, he’s spilling into you. He paints your insides with his hot spend, milking himself entirely in your cunt and your disappointment is incalculable. Tears of frustration well up and threaten to spill down your cheeks. It was all fun and games before, but you suddenly feel so used and betrayed. You can’t say he didn’t warn you.

“Ohh, I know,” he coos, wiping your eyes. “Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you?”

You nod, sniffling quietly.

“You can still convince me. I’m all ears, ya know.”

“How?”

“Well,” Joel says. He’s beginning to soften inside of you, and so he pulls out with a soft ‘fuck’, his spend spilling out of you and onto his table. “Can start with an ‘I’m sorry, Joel’. And I want a real one this time.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

“S’a good start. Wanna give me some more? Tell me why?”

“F-for teasing you and stuff.”

“For teasing me and stuff,” he repeats your words slowly. Joel pulls off his t-shirt and folds it tightly, places it at the end of the table and lowers your head onto it. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Joel kneels before you and wraps his arms around your thighs. He presses a kiss over your cloth-covered core, feeling the dampness of your arousal and his spend on his lips. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your wet cunt for him, lips all swollen and ribbons of his spend clinging to your folds. He admires the thick curls framing your pussy, “I gotcha,” he whispers. “C’mere.”

You gasp when Joel finally, finally begins to explore you, his tongue parting open your folds. He pulls back and pushes one, then two fingers inside you, humming in satisfaction at the way you suck him in, so eager and needy for his touch. He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and jerk as you try to keep yourself still.

“Oh, Joel,” you moan as he laps at your cunt, feeling that warm, sticky feeling flow through your hips. His mouth and fingers work together to bring you closer to your edge, humming as he rhythmically strokes that sweet spot inside of you. His tongue is so hot, wet, and firm as he drags it up and down your sex, circling your clit with the muscle. “Mmm, fuck. Oh, god.”

Joel doesn’t know what’s more satisfying, the sweet taste of this most private place between your thighs or the sounds of your pleasure as he eats you. He devours you voraciously, sucking one fold and nipping at the other as he curls his fingers, never faltering in their movements. With his free hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he reaches around and pulls the hood of your clit back to suck and lick the sensitive bud. His dark, slightly graying and wiry stubble drags across the skin of your inner thighs, scratching you gently. It’s building up quickly, that familiar feeling deep in your spine.

“I’m–” a moan rips through your chest and interrupts you, “Fuck, I’m–”

“I know, hon,” he whispers, escalating his efforts. He sucks, licks, and curls his fingers harder, feeling the slow build of you beginning to come apart for him. You come on his lips and spill into his hand as Joel works you through your orgasm. You’re a gushing, moaning mess, your hands fly to his scalp and you tug on his soft curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. And then another, slower. Another yet, even slower.

You expect him to pull away from your center with a satisfied grin, his mustache and beard dampened by your slick. But he stays put, licking more long stripes up and down your pussy. Your thighs twitch and flutter uncontrollably and Joel holds you apart for him as he continues to tease, circling the tip of his perfect, aquiline nose around your clit.

“Too much, it’s too much,” you cry.

“Mhm. But you got one more in you, I know you do.”

“Joel–”

You think you might break. You’re not sure where you feel Joel’s tongue, you just feel him fucking everywhere. You don’t know where your orgasm begins and ends, just that by the time Joel decides you’re done, you’re in sweet agony and he luxuriates in the taste of your second release. He’s made such a pretty mess of you. He presses one last kiss to your core, “Yeah, that was a good one, wasn’t it?”

Joel pulls away from your center, wiping his lips on your thighs. His cheeks are flushed and his dark eyes sparkle. He lets you catch your breath as he fills a glass of water for you and brings it to your lips helping you to drink as your hands are still trembling from it all.

When the moment passes, you gather your clothes. You pull on your tank top and put your shorts back on. “Oh,” you say.

“Hm?”

“I blocked Tommy’s email, just so you know. He’s trouble.”

Joel chuckles. “You, my darlin’, are trouble. But that’s probably for the best, thank you for fixin’ my computer again.”

“It’s no problem,” you reply.

“Oh–” Joel grabs something from his stack of mail on his countertop and hands it to you. It’s some Victoria’s Secret coupons.“This was addressed to you. Ended up in my mail. Fuckin’ mail guy.”

You giggle quietly, what a curmudgeon he is. “Actually, I think you need it more than I do. You can beat off to your angels in analog,” you tease.

Joel rolls his eyes. “You just don’t learn, do you?” he says, taking the coupons back from you. “And actually, think I will hang on to this. Maybe I’ll even buy you somethin’ pretty an’ we can do this again soon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, send me an ask, just tell me something nice <3 your words keep me motivated to write.

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel x reader #joel the last of us #grumpy joel #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut

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spinningwebsandtales · 3 days

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Imagine Sneaking Through The Citadel To Meet With Jack

Praetorian Jack X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Suggestive themes, steam, lots of kissing, basically over 1,000 words of pure self indulgence (no I'm not sorry)

Word Count: 1.4k

(A/N:) I went to go see Furiosa Friday....now I'm obsessed! Especially one character in particular, so I had to write something for him! Cause I have no control over what the idea worms bring to eat at my spastic brain! So fellow fangirls that watched Furiosa please enjoy this little indulgent creation of mine! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Mild spoilers below!!

The sun setting behind the rocky horizon of the Wasteland's left a dusky orange haze painting The Citadel. Majority of the residences were beginning to settle down for the evening, except for several War Boys taking the first watch of the evening. You waited patiently in a darkening alcove, pressed tightly against the wall. The thin clothing you had to wear barely fought back the chill and the terror of getting caught had you fighting shivers and breathing softly. Getting caught wasn't an option as it would have you in serious trouble all around. Not just for yourself but the man you were sneaking around for. His death would be inevitable if he was spotted with you. A couple War Boys walked by, talking about the possibility of heading out to battle soon. You sucked in a breath, pressing further against the wall. They walked by, not even giving a glance in your direction. This was the hardest part, waiting for the darkness to deepen so you could further make your way out of the well guarded halls.

While the whole place had started to settle hours ago, you didn't move until you knew the moon was high in the sky and the watchmen had become lax in their duties. Not many people were stupid enough to challenge Immortan Joe, so the War Boy's didn't take the night watch seriously. On light bare feet you stuck close to the shadows and quickly made your way to a hidden part of The Citadel. Your heart hammered in your chest and you clutched at your fluttering wrap. Though you had done this several times, you just knew you'd eventually get caught and thrown out into the horrible outside world. Then mere moments passed, though it felt like a lifetime, you squeezed into a hidden opening of an abandoned alcove. You sighed in relief when hands wrapped around you, one on your hip the other across your mouth. Your muffled surprise was silenced when you caught a familiar glimpse of dark hair and a scarred lip.

"Don't do that," you seethed when Jack removed his hand.

"Always so nervous," he chuckled sitting back against the cold natural stones.

"You know what happens if we get caught," you glared. Jack just shrugged and you huffed.

Praetorian Jack, The Citadel's greatest warrior and the man who kept the War Rig running. His team was known as the best and all the War Boys fought for a chance to ride for him. He was the first man to show you an ounce of kindness when you arrived at The Citadel. Sold to Immortan Joe in exchange for food, the man who you thought loved you, dumped you at his feet and never looked back. Being barren saved you from the fate of one of his wives, you found yourself doing any chores that was deemed worthy of your station. Thrown to the feet of Jack, you had become his problem for a short while until you were drug to another part of The Citadel for other tasks. That short time with the quiet gruff man had something grow between you, hence the sneaking to see one another.

Jack offered out his hand, knowing that you were losing yourself within horrible memories and he worried about you. These were the few times that made life worth living. You shook your head taking his offered hand and he lead you closer to him. You sat down between his legs, resting your back against his warm chest. He had forgone his leather jacket, leaving his rough clothing to catch against your linen garments. His presence and scent also soothing your nerves, as he held your hand, rubbing the top of your hand. His hands calloused and scarred but tender and kind. His nose brushing against the back of your neck, leaving you shivering. He kissed you gently, careful not to leave any marks. You leaned in backwards, staring up at him. Jack gave you a small smile, kissing your forehead causing you to giggle quietly. His fingers tangling with yours, he pressed another kiss to your forehead, before his stare became heated. You sat still letting him litter you with attention. He kissed your temple, cupping your cheek as he kissed your nose, cheek, before pausing above your lips. Your head still leaned back he took in your features before capturing your lips in an searing kiss. The upside down kiss awkward, but making your bare toes curl.

He released you to turn you around, slipping you back down onto his lap your legs wrapped around his waist. Cupping your cheeks with both hands, he pulled you back into his embrace. His stubble scratching against your soft skin, but you sighed into his mouth, your arms resting on his shoulders as you played with the long dirty strands of his hair. Jack deepened his kiss, tasting you in a more passionate way. You melted, unable to keep yourself upright. He released your cheeks, wrapping strong arms around your body and holding you tightly against his body. Air became a necessity too quickly and it had you both parting against each other. Warm puffs of air brushing against your wet and kiss swollen lips, Jack pressed his forehead against yours. You traced his features, your fingers soft against his rough face. He shivered in delight kissing and nipping at the digits. When he pulled away, he noticed some of his remaining war grease had smudged against your forehead. He licked his thumb cleaning it away.

"I don't want this to end," you said.

"Maybe one day it doesn't have to," Jack replied.

You stared at him with a curious look. He lost himself, staring at you deeply. You were an oasis in the desert. No amount of fighting and driving could give him a jolt of adrenaline like you did. It was these few stolen moments that he truly lived for. He didn't care what Immortan Joe wanted, if it gave him you then he would do whatever it took. He remembered those tearful fearful eyes of yours, when the War Boys had thrown you at his feet. You had lost everything and you didn't know what to expect. But when he held out that dirty, blood drenched hand you took it. Raising yourself from the floor and then it ended for Jack. He had to protect you and learn more from you. Your story, like everyone else's was filled with sadness and tragedy. He longed to make you forget all the horrible and hard times. And these fleeting times, hidden away from the watchful eyes of The Citadel and it's overlord he got to make that promise come to fruition. Stolen kisses, quiet sighs, and warm embraces. It was all here, that oasis for his soul.

"I will find away to save you," he promised. But he didn't want you to answer, to protest. So he kissed you, hard, fiercely, silencing any protests immediately. You held tightly, trying to keep up as Jack laid you gently back onto the stones. You threaded your fingers through his hair. He was all you could see, all that mattered as he leaned over you. Releasing you once more he laid down beside you. Tucking you into his side so you both could look up at the stars. A dusty haze always above your heads, but not enough to darken the night sky. You reached up, like you could scoop them up. Jack slid his hand up your arm his hand cupping the back of yours as his fingers also reached to the sky. Like you both could grab destiny together that played amongst the stars. You pulled your gaze from up above, looking towards the gentle man beside you.

"Let's save each other," you replied with conviction.

"You already have," Jack held on tighter. You searched for any sign that he said that just to make you feel better, only to see truth staring you in the face. You grasped his hand pulling it down to your chest. He felt your heartbeat thundering against your chest and Jack knew that he would give up anything to protect that kind heart. He held on tightly, not wanting to let any second pass him by in your presence. Even when time ran out and you both had to part ways, he held you against him. Taking you with him no matter where he was. And every time he looked up at the sky he could see you gazing back at him. You pushed him onwards and you held your ground. Knowing that the promised moments together were worth fighting for.

#Praetorian Jack X Reader #Praetorian Jack / Reader #Praetorian Jack #Mad Max #Furiosa A Mad Max Saga #Praetorian Jack Imagine #Mad Max Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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art-from-within · 2 days

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ER hc: Demigods in Love

(TW its long. Long.)

If they had a big fat crush on you and fell in love with you, they wouldn't say it outright at first but there would be signs

Morgott:

He becomes more catty-chatty. He usually cloaks his feelings of extreme self loathing(leading him to believe he deserves nothing and distance himself from things that bring joy, fear of rejection etc) with a rain of sour quips and old age scoldings, a technique he would definitely utilize all the same(and fail horribly) to suppress new trifling emotions arising within him, feelings he dare not indulge in for his own sake and everyone else's.

But despite his harsh words and taunts, the fact is not missed on you, that he is there. He is there, and for all his talk of finding you so lowly, he bothers to address you and your 'meager flame'

"I see thee little tarnished," he will say "smould'ring with that wretched flame of ambition" he will repeat this often, but the emphasis on 'little' changes with time. It is those little things, those minute slip ups, that itches a part of your brain.

Malenia:

She becomes more stiff around you. She is already taciturn enough, but around you she becomes stiffer than every statue in haligtree combined. But in those rare moments when she does address you, her voice becomes more softer than usual. Sometimes you catch her head nodding towards you gently. Other times you find her standing guard outside your door, though she will refuse to admit it was nothing else but that. Keeping you safe is her love language.

She will also make sure to always have the most fresh med needles stuck in her before she ever steps foot into your vicinity. Anything to make sure you don't get even the slightest WHIFF of her rot...poor valkyrie. She really tries.

Mohg:

He becomes more...clingy. And by clingy I meant he stalks you (a mogh classic).

He isn't audaciously obvious with it, no he is never obvious with anything. But as I said, there are signs. Bushes and trees seem to rustle more than usual. Warm beverages left on your table with no owner in sight, roses blooming during the wrong seasons and WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT??? Somebody who is TOTALLY NOT MOHG just healed your student rune debts?? Ahh! Good heavens!!! Who could have done this??? Definitely not the rich demigod omen who lives 2 broken buildings away that seemingly always knows when you need a heat pad hmmmm

Despite all this though, it seems this amount of clinginess is inversely proportional to the lines of dialogue he will spare you i.e. the harder he falls for you, the more he stalks and the less he talks (tldr of another hc post, that welcome guest speech of his is totally scripted and he can’t function outside said script). His confidence leaves him when he sees someone he cannot risk losing. He also love bombs you, with all intentions meant. Anything material, you have it. Its almost like he can read your mind (he is in your bloodstream).

He functions on the mindset that nothing in this world is selfless, and that love can only be bought and not earned. He 'bought' the love of his sanguine nobles through promise of power...he straight up kidnaps his 'doctors', who now love him(they are all mad with bloodlust). The albinaurics are there (for miquella). He is truly convinced that he cannot be loved without reason, so he does all this extra crap to cook up said reasons. Local omen has yet to discover consent out of the shunning grounds. Maybe u can change him 👍or make him worse.

Godwyn:

He gives you golden privileges….Godwyn wouldn’t outright confess his love for you on first sight, but I imagine he would be the SECOND (Rykard being first) most forthright man in this sea of bashful tsundere personages. Aside from his flirtiness increasing by 10 folds, He will let you ride Fortisaxx. Must I even elaborate further? There are noble men in Leyndell who would sell their cock and balls for that opportunity, but he straight up goes “hey you wanna ride my dragon” wink. Fortisaxx is best wingman, drops hints to help his brother/friend/(lover?😏) out. Considering he has a whole lineage, and i really doubt the omen twins received any action in the lore, he is the most experienced when it comes to love, and he has learned the best way to deal with it is just be chill.

Bonus points if you catch him drunk, the comedy you would play witness to would be legendary.

Godrick:

He will let you touch him. …

Pre grafted Godrick:

would be a total tsundere straight up. He has 0 confidence in himself, and his old and wrinkly ass has only known rejection by that point to not have any qualms about confessing. Throw in an odd sense of aristocratic pride into the mix and you have got a noble who looks and acts like he is competing his way into a guillotine. He is quite rude, and if he is got a single talent up his sleeve, it is without a doubt his ability to drive anyone into a frenzy(no three fingers needed) with his snarky quips alone. He is physically not up there, but by words alone he could burn bridges (and he has). Perhaps he gets this talent from his great great great great great great great great great grand uncle who, rumors say, also rules over Leyndell! He is a small crooked paranoid little freekle frackle that clings onto what we would call Ancien régime mindset and lifestyle

Given this context, the first sign that something is awry is that he lets you be near his viscinty. He is still snarky, with all the thou-s and thee-s sprinkled in. But he lets you near him. Hmm that’s odd. You thought Ettiquette 6600038 stated no non royal was allowed to walk beside him-OH and he is staring right into your soul. Thats also weird. You thought he hated the commonfolk? Did he just hold your hand? Granted he was terrified by the lightening, but still…hm… and he just tried cooking for the first time?? Ended terribly he burnt the kitchen down. He did all that for himself he says…you hear a “yea right” from a very brave soldier of godrick, never to be seen again. He gives you a suspiciously customized hankerchief, embroidery of (insert your fav flower here) when you catch a cold. Never asks for it back.

Post grafted Godrick is mostly the same, but more crazy with a 10% increase in confidence. For one, its been 24 hours and he has yet to tear you apart from limb to limb which is something. “Unfit for grafting” he says. yea right.

...

He also shows you his gore Godfrey goon shrine, your quality of life depends on the tone of your laugh. He lets you bathe him (wow you touched him…or some dude’s entire torso which he stole.) and Gostoc doesn’t fuck with you like he does with others. Good. Good. He trusts you enough to complain abt some tantalizing trespasser omen loitering infront of his castle named ‘Margit’. Which sounds awful lot like Morgott. He hasn’t clicked the dots and he most likely never will.

Radahn:

He lets you ride Leonard.

Radahn is the type of guy who is beyond friendly with anyone, so when he does something which would so obviously be labelled affectionate coming from others, it is generally dismissed as an act of friendship. He remembers your birthday and holds a surprise party which is VERY COOL, but he also hosts birthday parties for everyone else….which is also cool… He suffers through the friendzone for a while with grace.

But when he offers you a ride on his dear Leonard, that darling steed of his that he treats like his heir apparent? Yup, that very horse, is when the gears in your mind unclog. His highness Prince Leonard has always been a boundary none dare cross, but here he is granting you a safe passage to jump right through. He lifts you up with ease, and places you on the saddle. And when you smile, he smiles even wider. Signs eventually bubble up to the surface. He laughs more often around you, completely at ease. When drunk he regails you with tales of bygone heroes and his own aspirations to be one. Reply with “but you already are one” and you will catch him lag for 5 seconds.

He keeps you close by during expeditions, and even during social gatherings. He uses his gravity magic to help you/your siblings indulge in some 0 gravity fun. And during less crowded evenings, he arranges fun getaways with friends, except its just you two this time...and here on out. Oddly enough though, the closer he gets to you the more you find yourself isolated at your job etc. You start finding your posts more empty. Which is odd since you did remember there were 2 other people assigned at this pla- AND its general Radahn with 2 roasted exalted flesh in hand! Wonderful.

One can only speculate how he uses his powers as head general...

Bonus point if you like cats. He will bring his cats for a wash to your house (another excuse to see you)

Ranni:

She spills tea.

This one is easy since we have in game canon content as reference. At first she is secretive. She introduces herself as "renna", and maintains a professional distance. But as time passes and she comes to warm up to you, that distance is chipped away by her own doing. She confesses to her many well hidden secrets, dark secrets like how she played a hand in the night of black knives or her more lesser secrets like stealing her mom's books, giving young Radahn a bobcut in his sleep, mischiefs with Rykard etc. Her trust in you, that you will keep her word between you two, is the sign. Anytime the topic steers towards anything remotely romantic though, she transforms into a bashful tsundere

"Noooo don't open that box from that chamber in this location you don't want to marry me noooo" (gives you the key to that box). Also "take not the ring from this place, the solitude beyond the night is better mine alone." Is code word for "please marry me I am very lonely".

Rykard:

ОНОНОНО

Pre Snake Rykard:

He shows you his sex dungeon

Yea. The most forthright admirer award goes to! PRAETOR RYKARD! Rykard seems like the type of guy who has this very thick professional exterior, that betrays his true perverse nature. You sit down with him and think

"wow, what a well rounded individual! Yes he is rough around the edges, but he dresses nice, he speaks well, he looks lordly enough albeit dark circles, he is good with machines (he doesn’t tell you that he names them 'abductor virgins' 💀) hmm surely he isn't some perverted freak with dungeons and torture rooms in his house"

and then he offers you a tour of his house and peels off his skin like a snake fresh out of hibernation and every fibre of your being tells you to run as fast as u can. Think Tywin Lannister but it's obvious somebody's been slipping drops of mercury into his coffee. His stern facade hides a lecherous mind

It would go something like this. He is wearing his tywin lannister inspired drip, while riding his very high horse. He bothers to look down from his very high horse at which point he sees you. Double take. He approaches you with the confidence of an absolute slut, but its coated with enough regal varnish to make them barely acceptable in public. Something like "Good evening Fair lady/good sir, I see thou art unchaperoned this low in the evening. May we escort you somewhere safe?". You don't really understand what he is getting at first, until he offers to give you a tour of his beautiful rich and lavish manor. And like, he isn't lying. It's beautiful. It's rich. It's lavish. On top of a fucking volcano? It’s always the fucked up bitches with tastes like look at Mohg?! 10/10 (I had rank him second to Mohg in dripmaxxing). But the deeper you venture into his abode, the crazier the tour becomes. And then you watch this man peel his layers of civility strata by strata, with each new chamber easing him into his true self until ultimately what is left is a crazed man with a crazed look pointing at a literal dungeon with very suggestive toys. Tanith is there.

The pros though is that he is a good lover, and father. Stressing on Father, because you are gonna make him one. (Magic world if you are a male reader. Anything is possible)

Post Snake Rykard:

Ooooohhh togethhhaaaaaa we prossspeeerrr untuu eterniteeeeeeeee become fameeelee?

( he is giving you a choice which is a show of love. Choose your next words very carefully)

Godfrey:

He lets you dress his scars.

He recognizes that familiar feeling of love, and his age and experience has taught him that fighting it will be more painful, so he just lets it be instead. Despite his bloodlust and barbarism, which resurfaces here and there, he is surprisingly courteous in casual settings. Being married to a goddess you find out, is a lonely existence. Is there any love between the two? Questions that will storm your mind as you do good on the honor of dressing his wounds. You can feel the eyes of his golden beast watching over you. Such an act had intimate undertones back in his homeland. Do you understand?

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Miquella:

He doesn't 'slip' up any 'signs' no he LITERALLY stabs you with it(out of desperation), but you are still oblivious because he looks like your 8 yrs old baby cousin with a bug addiction(Those wings are real y/n)!He tries to appear his real age by snatching every opportunity provided to show the vastness of his mind and wisdom, but ends up giving young Sheldon vibes. He tells you straight to your face that he loves you like "no other", but he just gets swaddled in your lap like a baby. Not enjoying this experience.

Messmer: Don't know anything about him to write 3 paras (for obv) but the vibes he is giving right now is that he is less pookie bear than imagined, and impaling isn't just a hobby but his way of life. Going off of the trailer, I had say if he had a crush on you, he would be as straight forward as Godwyn, but with a more sinister bent. He would let you play with his snakes...maybe burn you deep to leave his mark...?

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princessamericachavez · 2 hours

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Say Don’t Go | 911 7x10 spec

Based on the stills and my brain not shutting up

“I hate you!”

Christopher’s voice resonates through the hallway until his door slamming cuts it off. Eddie flinches and Buck’s heart breaks.

“Chris-“

Eddie moves half a step forward and Buck stops him by the shoulder before he can go after his son. It’s not going to help. If he knows anything about angry teenagers (having been one particularly angry himself) is that Chris needs a moment away from his dad.

The problem are those big brown eyes. Because when Eddie looks back at him, so lost and heartbroken and desperate, Buck knows he has to do something. Because this is wrong, it’s just wrong, and Buck knows he cannot fix everything for the people he loves but he cannot —will not— stop trying no matter how impossible it feels.

“Let- let me try and talk to him,” Buck asks.

“What?”

Helena and Ramon both turn to him with equal disbelief, but Buck doesn’t even bother looking at them. They’ve been so ready to take this opportunity to rip Chris away from Eddie. And, sure, they are worried and Eddie should’ve handled this a lot better, but they aren’t even giving him the chance. So he doesn’t look at them, he keeps his eyes on Eddie who gives him the smallest, pleading, nod.

That’s all Buck needs. With one final squeeze, he lets go of Eddie and moves across the living room with long strides before the Diaz’s can stop him.

Who does he think he is? What gives him the right to intervene? How dare he even be here? Whatever they are thinking, comes second to Chris and Eddie.

Buck knocks gently on the door.

“Go away!”

“H-hey, buddy, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There’s a long terrifying pause that nearly shatters what’s left of Buck’s heart before the reluctant “okay.”

With a relieved sigh, he pushes in.

Christopher is sitting on the edge of his bed, a packed backpack by his side. For a second, Buck thinks of another day, years ago, when he found him just like this. Back then, Buck’s biggest fear was that Eddie’s heart would stop. Today, he’s terrified it will break beyond repair.

“Hey, Chris.”

“Hey, Buck,” he says, looking down at his hands.

Awkwardly, Buck makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge next to the boy. He’s so big now, older and taller, but he can still see the same child that had to comfort him after the shooting.

“Chris, are you sure about this? Leaving your dad, even if it’s just for a while… that’s not going to fix things between you.”

“I don’t want to fix them,” Chris snaps, sharply. “He lied to me! He lied to Marisol, to you, he lied to everyone!”

And that’s not something Buck can argue.

“Yeah, he- he screwed up, Chris, but you need to understand.”

“I understand! Why would he that! He’s- he always told me to tell the truth and to be good but he was a liar.”

“Hey, hey, that’s- that’s not fair. One mistake doesn’t make him a liar. He just- listen, Chris, you know your dad loves you more than anything in the whole world, right?”

He’s met with silence.

“Right?”

Chris gives a noncommittal shrug.

“Right,” Buck nods. “Because he does. And he would never, ever, do anything to hurt you.”

“But he did! It hurt! Seeing her and thinking it was her… it hurt, Buck.”

“I know, buddy… I do. I just- I meant, he would never hurt you on purpose.”

“He had to know it would hurt.”

“He did. Which is why he lied…”

Christopher huffs and Buck has the horrible feeling he’s not being as helpful as he hoped. What was he thinking? Just because he loves Chris with his whole heart it doesn’t mean he knows the first thing about being a parent. He only knows what Eddie taught him.

The memory hits home like a wave. Sunlight, a warm hand on his shoulder, his heart twisting from guilt to relief and to something bigger he couldn’t name.

“You know, your dad isn’t perfect.”

“No, he isn’t,” Chris scoffs.

“He isn’t perfect,” Buck repeats, tone pleading Chris to let him finish, “and he knows it. He told me once himself, that he’s failed many times as your dad. But he also said that he loves you enough to never give up, to never stop trying to be better… for you.”

Chris is quiet, but by the way his shoulders hunch and his head tilts, Buck thinks he might be getting to him. So he pushes on.

“And- and the thing is, Christopher, your dad is very hurt right now. It’s- it’s nothing like the time he was shot… it’s something… deeper, older. Because, you see, when Shannon- when your mom died, it really hurt your dad. He loved her so much… and I don’t think he ever healed from it, not really. I think that’s why he did all this. Because he’s in pain…”

Christopher peers at Buck from under his curly fringe, reluctantly making eye contact.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No, it doesn’t. But- but I think your dad really needs us right now. He- he needs you,” he corrects quickly. “This time, I think your dad needs you not to give up on him.”

“But I’m still mad.”

“And- and that’s okay. You can be mad. You get to be angry or sad or confused, I just- I just hope you can fight for your dad, like he does for you. Because, Chris, if he loses you… I think the pain will be too much this time.”

Chris is quiet. And Buck is exhausted.

“I don’t wanna make you feel responsible for him, Christopher. I promise, whatever you choose, I’ll have his back and make sure he is okay. I just- I think he needs both of us right now.”

“Why are you defending him? Aren’t you mad too? He lied to you too.”

“I- yeah, he did. But he’s my best friend, and I love him. I’m not quitting on him, he’s never given up on me.”

“Hmmm.”

It takes a couple minutes before Chris decides to get back up. Buck stays only because he isn’t asked to leave and, only when he sees the boy step outside does he dare follow cautiously.

In the living room, whatever Eddie was talking in hushed tones with his parents dies down immediately. He only has eyes for his son as he approaches.

“Mijo-“

“You have to promise that it won’t happen again,” Christopher demands, voice shaky. “You need to try to do better and you have to promise that you won’t lie to me again.”

Eddie walks towards his son like he is in a dream, eyes tearful. Buck can see him trembling even from afar, where he’s found a corner to tuck himself into and disappear.

“Christopher,” Eddie says, kneeling before his son and gently holding him, “I swear- te lo juro por mi vida. I will do better. I will- I will be better for both of us. I will spend every day trying to be a better father for you.”

“Okay,” Chris says.

“Okay?”

“I’m staying.”

Eddie leans forward to hug his son, but is met with a gentle push back.

“I’m still mad at you, dad.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Of course,” Eddie mumbles, but the relief in his voice is still palpable.

Eddie looks past Chris’s shoulder and his eyes find Buck. The look in his face… Buck knows Eddie like the back of his hand but he cannot quite place what it is. Thankfulness and relief and hope… but there’s something else behind it that makes Buck’s heart twist painfully.

So Buck looks away, tries to find something —anything— else to focus on and lands on the Diaz’s faces. Eddie’s parents look at him with… well, it isn’t quite anger, but there’s a confusion there and a bewilderment that somehow makes Buck even more uncomfortable. He ducks his head and beelines for the kitchen. He should let them be alone…

“Buck!” Eddie is rushing after him before he can get to the door.

When he turns around, he finds Eddie standing there, shaking and shocked. Buck waits, but Eddie doesn’t seem to have any more idea than he does about what he planned to say next.

“Sorry, I- I should probably go.”

Eddie takes a step forward, with that look still on his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Buck goes on. “Just- just be with your son tonight.”

“You sure? You could stay.” Eddie steps closer.

“No, it’s- it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude, with your family-“

“Buck-“

“And Tommy is waiting at my place, so…”

Eddie stops. He blinks.

“Right, yeah. Of course. Just- I- Thank you.”

Buck smiles, even if the air between them still feels charged.

“I have your back, Eddie. Always.”

And before anything else can get his head spinning he steps out the back door. Only once outside does he stop and finally breathe. That was… that felt like… but it cannot be. It wasn’t. Even if Eddie looked like he wanted to-

No, of course not. Better get going, before his heart can manage to fool itself once again.

#Buddie #911 spec #911 fic #Buddie fic #911 on ABC #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #911 spoilers

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 day

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A/n: I apologize if this sucks 😑, been a while 😩

Jealous...he couldn't believe that he was jealous. It's not like he had a right to be. You were faithful, he knew that you would never do anything it was those parasites that wouldn't leave you alone is what he couldn't stand.

His fur bristles seeing one asshole not leaving you alone, the bastard trying to fix your necklace even though you were clearly uncomfortable. Working his jaw he straightened his form making his way towards you. His arm tightening around your hips pulling you too his side.

"You have two seconds to leave my sight before I put a bullet between your eyes." Mordecai sneered.

Watching the man quickly scatter away, a small snort escaped your lips. Shaking your head you placed a light kiss to his cheek as Mordecai's gaze lingered on the man until he was out of view. "You get so cute when you get all jealous."

"Hmp." Rolling his shoulders, he could still feel his irritation hit him. "We're leaving."

"Ohh! I know that look." It was the same look he always had when he wanted to fuck away his own frustrations. "Let's hurry up, wouldn't want you to get more pissed off....more jealous" you teased.

Mordecai harrumphed, feigning annoyance but his eyes twinkling with mirth betrayed him. "Jealous? Of those idiots with half a brain?" He spat, but that was a lie, anyone with a brain could see how jealous he was and right now he had to fix with. Not giving you a chance to react, he used the hand that wasn't holding your waist to swoop down and capture your lips in a intoxicating kiss, pouring all the longing and desire he harbored for into that liplock.

"Those idiots can look all they want. But only I get to touch you." Mordecai had to bite his tongue, he'd rather not they look but he couldn't do much about it.

Chuckling softly, you shook your head as your fingers clutched his tie fixing as he bent down for another kiss as he pressed you into the wall. His hand left your cheek to thumb your bottom lip lovingly when he detached from your lips again, his half-lidded eyes darkened with want.

"We're leaving."

Nearly melting into your kiss, you let your fingers clutch his shirt tightly. Before breaking the kiss your fingers grabbed a hold of his tie to peer up at him.

"I wouldn't mind that....I also wouldn't mind if you get a little possessive. I do like it when you get possessive Mordecai."

A low rumbling growl erupted from Mordecai's chest at your words, his eyes flashing with feral possession. "Is that so?" He practically purred, angling his face down so his words ghosted hotly against your parted lips.

"Well then, how could I ever deny such a request." In a blink of an eye, he grasped hold of your wrist tugging you into one of the spare rooms, locking the door. He didn't care at the moment, his thoughts only consumed by you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, the dig of his fingers undoubtedly leaving marks under the fabric of your dress that only he can see a declaration of ownership only for his eyes.

"How's this for possessive?" Mordecai practically growls in your ear, nipping at your neck playfully yet with an underlying edge. One hand leaves your hips to sneaking under your skirt, deft fingers parting the silky fabric of your underwear. He rumbled smugly when he felt your slick arousal coating his digits even before he touched your heat.

"So wet for me already." He praised huskily before positioning himself against your backside, letting you feel his hardened length pulsating eagerly through his pants.

Any rational thought he had was long gone, you always had that effect on him and since it was you he just didn't care.

"We have the whole night ahead of us. Do you think you can handle another of my jealous tantrums?"

Mordecai rolled his hips against your ass teasingly, his other hand coming around to palm your breasts possessively through your dress. "Or should I show everyone here who you really belong to?" He whispered darkly in challenge, nipping the curve of your neck.

You had to bite back a whimper as Mordecai clutched your hips. "Mordecai...please."

"Please, what?" Mordecai rumbled smugly against your ear, already knowing what you wanted yet choosing to draw it out to further rile you up. His fingers toyed with the slit of your panties, gathering your arousal in wet circles around your clit but never directly touching where you wanted him most.

“Use your words...you can still do that? Can't you?.” He reminded huskily, biting back a groan as you ground your ass against his hard length desperately. God, how he wanted to take you.

But this, this was by far more fun, drawing out your pleasure is just as enjoyable for the possessive man. Mordecai pressed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, sure to leave dark love bites as a reminder of who made you sing.

“Tell me what you need’. I will give it to you, on one condition.” He pulled his fingers away from your drenched folds to pivot you around, smirking devilishly as your eyes fluttered open to meet his lust filled gaze, glasses long gone from his face.

“Scream my name for everyone to hear when you come. Let these idiots know who you're with.” Mordecai snarled, dipping his head to envelop your lips in a hungry, punishing kiss as he delved two fingers deep inside your core without warning, curling them expertly against the sweet spot.

“Now say it.” He demanded against your lips, working his fingers in and out of your tight heat mercilessly. “Tell me what you want, princess.”

A cry tore from your lips as you clutched the sheets below you. "Mordecai! Please, fuck me."

A possessive, feral snarl tore from Mordecai's throat at your pleading words. "Good girl." He rumbled appreciatively, yanking his fingers out of your soaked heat to quickly undo his belt and fly.

Without any preamble, Mordecai spun you around once more.Back now on the bed as he caged you in, hovering above you.

He wasted no time sinking his thick girth deep inside your clenching heat with one deep thrust, the feeling so velvety and tight around him making both of you keen at the intimate reconnection.

His lips crashed down to devour your gasp and moan, swallowing your sound as he set a punishing pace from the get go. The smacking sound of sweat-slicked skin meeting echoed in the still night, Mordecai's fingers digging bruisingly into your thigh wrapped around his waist to hold you in place.

"You always feel so wonderful." He grunted against your mouth, angling his hips to hit that treasured spot deep inside with each hard thrust. Mordecai drank in your features contorting in bliss, his own face a mask of feral rapture.

His pistoning grew more erratic as his release approached, his fingers finding your pearl and rubbing tight circling motions. "Come for me'. I wanna feel you clench around my cock when you scream my name." Mordecai demanded gutturally, pistoning his hips sharper.

"M-Mordcai!" You cried out as your orgasm crashed over you in flooding waves, inner walls clamping deliciously tight around Mordecai's cock still pistoning relentlessly through your high.

A low snarling curse tore from Moredcai'z throat at your whimpered declaration, the sound of his name on your lips as you came undone pushing him over the edge. With a feral snarl, he sunk his teeth onto the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder to muffle his grunts as he spilled his hot seeds deep into your fluttering sheath.

The two of you clung to one another as you both floated down from your shared high, Mordecai still languidly rocking into your tender core to ride out the aftershocks. His claws tracing idle patterns on your hip elicited intermittent shivers from you.

"Are you alright?" He whispered hoarsely once he found his voice again, pressing wet kisses along your shoulder and up your neck suddenly embarrassed, he did his best to not look at you.

He pulled out of you slowly and turned you to face him, his gaze softening at you as he cupped your cheeks.

"I'm fine Mordecai...you don't have to apologize. If I didn't like it then I would tell you."

Humming, Mordecai nodded his head as he shifted his body holding you close as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, you felt so good. Your body nestled tightly into his own, he could feel your heart beat. You were so soft, he loved moments like these. He loved how your tail would wrap around his own. Sure the sex was amazing, it was something he couldn't get enough of when it came to you.

He couldn't help but feel prideful knowing it was his scent, his cologne that covered your body. Maybe those idiots would leave you alone.

Shifting your body, you gave Mordecai a sleepy smile as you gave his chest a lazy kiss. "Do you feel better now?"

Scoffing, he adverted his gaze from you. He rather not admit how good it felt to be within you. He was never good with words, he was still shocked how he even managed to have you as someone like you by his side. "Yes...much better."

#drabbles #drabble #mordecai #mordecai heller #lackadaisy mordecai #mordecai lackadaisy #mordecai x reader #mordecai x you #mordecai heller x reader #mordecai heller x you #lackadaisy #lackadaisy smut #lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy x you #mordecai heller lackadaisy

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general-fanfiction · 1 day

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Hopes And Fears Part Three. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 2.4k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Mature Language

I’ve grown fond of the early mornings whilst stuck at Split River. The first glimpse of the sun shining over the gardens, a warm hue welcoming the day. With no students roaming the halls, all I hear is the quiet sounds of nature. On the odd occasion, I’m even able to spot a rabbit or deer, grazing gently on the acres of freshly trimmed fields surrounding the school buildings.

It’s become a habit of mine, each morning I find myself lounging besides the flowerbeds. Allowing myself to feel each blade of grass that delicately brushes my skin. For a while, I forget that I’m no longer alive. I can simply exist.

It’s not uncommon for Wally to join me. Sprawled on his back, gazing up at the clouds. Pointing out different shapes and imagining different backstories for all of the cloud animals he sees. Besides that, neither of us speak much. Only enjoying one another’s company as we relax in the morning light.

Spending this time has given me the opportunity to process everything. Wally helps me to work through my emotions and thoughts. Nothing ever being too much for him to listen to, though I’m still afraid to divulge everything. I’m sure he can sense that I’m holding back, yet he doesn’t pry. Content to just listen. In all honestly, I truly believe that these moments with Wally have helped me more so than Mr Martin’s support group has. Despite attending every session since my memorial, I consistently leave the group feeling unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. In fact, it doesn’t seem as though the teacher wants us to discuss the past, our lives and our deaths. Only wanting us to focus on the present, the state we are confined to. I find myself struggling with this a lot.

“What do you think you would be doing if you hadn’t died?”

Pushing myself up on my elbows, I look over to Wally, who is resting on his stomach, absentmindedly plucking grass from the ground.

“I was supposed to go to college, play football. Hopefully make it pro, that’s what the plan was anyway.” He tells me, full of confidence yet his tone of voice suggests that’s not the pathway he would’ve chosen for himself.

“What about like outside of a job though?” I pry, the boy has my curiosity heightened. “Like, surely you have other things that you wanted to do?”

His eyes focus in on the pieces of grass that he’s now twisting together in a makeshift sort of chain. Deep in thought, I can see the cogs working in his brain as he tries to think of an answer for me. I’m sure it’s not something he’s necessarily thought of before, following the path that his mom set out for him upon birth.

“You’re gonna laugh, but I always wanted to get married and have a family. I know that times have changed and you lot don’t really believe in marriage and stuff that much anymore but I’m a family guy. Always have been.” He admits, finally looking at me and I see the honesty written across his face. “It just sucks that I’ll never actually get to experience it.”

My heart aches for him. One fatal accident and his entire future was stripped away. Never getting to experience the things he always dreamed of. It breaks heart, knowing what he could have had.

“Wally, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s no big deal, really, I’ve spent the last few decades accepting my fate and it’s not so bad here.” He tells me, a sadness shining in the brown of his eyes, trying his best to cover it up with a soft smile. “What about you? Other than taking over the world with your best friend, what was the plan?”

Giggling slightly as he references Abby’s speech, I start to wonder what my life would’ve looked like. Truthfully, I have no idea. My life revolved around dancing and cheer, other than that I have no clue as to who I am. Up until my death, I didn’t believe I was worthy of love, the one chance I took was with Spencer and look how that turned out.

“I suppose I wanted to leave Split River, Abby wanted to go to New York so I figured I would study there.” I reply, knowing New York was never my dream. I just couldn’t bare to part with her once high school ended. “It would be quite nice to live on a farm. Out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by animals, I think that would’ve been my dream.”

“Now this makes sense.”

Crossing my legs underneath me to sit up properly, he’s unable to hide the bright smile on his face. Clearly finding some amusement in what I said.

“What makes sense?” I ask, to which he laughs quietly. Pulling a clump of grass out of the ground, I launch it in his direction. “Hey, you dickhead, I didn’t laugh at you, so you can’t laugh at me.”

“No, no. I’m not laughing at you.” Wally speaks through chuckles, rolling on to his back. “It just makes sense now why you like to sit out here.”

His arms are thrown across his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. I can’t help but stare as his muscles flex, admiring the sight in front of me. Following his body, I find myself biting the inside of my cheek as I notice his top has risen up his stomach ever so slightly. Highlighting the small trail of hair that dips below his shorts.

“Did you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out, before I even realise what I’m saying.

Slapping my hand across my mouth, embarrassment floods my body, eyes wide as Wally smiles. Eyebrows raised as he looks over to me. Sly smile making its way on to his face.

“No. No girlfriend. Why?”

“I was just wondering. I mean, star high school quarterback, you must have had girls queuing up for your attention.” I’m able to stop myself before I begin a long-winded rant. Helping to ease at least a tiny amount of my embarrassment.

Wally rolls his eyes at my comment. “Well in that case you must’ve had boys queuing up for your attention. What with being head cheerleader and all.”

“Ha ha. Okay, I know it was a stupid question.”

Fortunately for me, I’m saved from making a fool out of myself even more by the sounds of cars entering the parking lot. In unison, we both turn to face the sound. Observing the students that have started to filter into the building, chatting loudly amongst one another as they do so.

My vision locks in on Spencer and his gang of hooligans. They’re jumping all over one another without a care in the world as they make their way into the school. Trail of awestruck girls following behind in the hopes of garnering the smallest amount of attention from one of the jocks.

If only I was able to tell them what they’re really like. Perhaps they wouldn’t make the same mistake that I made. Perhaps I’d be able to save them from the same fate that I suffered.

“So I was thinking we could have a pool day. I think Charlie would be up for it, maybe not Rhonda, but it could be fun for us all just to chill out. You haven’t really spent much time with anyone else apart from in our sessions with Mr Martin.”

Wally’s words echo around my head though I’m not paying any attention. Despite, no longer being able to see the group that I was fixated on, I’m still closely watching the area that they had just previously been walking through.

Two weeks later and Spencer and his friends still evade justice. Police presence at the school has increased drastically with crime scene investigators cornering off the old toilet block. Maybe I’m impatient, but it feels like they’re getting away with it. Receiving no consequences for their heinous actions.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

Wally’s words finally drag me out of my thoughts and I meet his eyes. “Yeah, pool day, sounds good.”

“And we’re inviting Charlie and Rhonda.” He states, eyebrows raised as he knows I wasn’t truly paying attention to a word he said.

“Oh, no. They’re nice but can we just do it alone? I’m not sure I feel up to doing a whole group thing.”

Wally nods, though his eyes narrow. Sensing there’s something off with me. He’s good at noticing whenever my demeanour changes, or whenever something is bothering me. It’s part of his nature.

“Yeah of course. We should probably head to group first though.” The athlete pushes himself off the floor as he speaks, waiting for me to stand as well which I reluctantly do, not before releasing an annoyed groan. “You know, one of these days, you might actually enjoy the sessions.”

Rolling my eyes, I follow Wally towards the gym. He holds the doors open for me as we enter the building, his small act of chivalry makes me giddy. I make no effort to show this however, politely thanking the boy as I walk through.

“Ah here they are! Took you two long enough.” Charlie jokes as we enter the gym, taking our seats. I sit between Dawn and Rhonda with Wally seating himself between Charlie and Mr Martin.

“No guesses what they’ve been up to.” Rhonda comments, lollipop hanging out the side of her mouth as she does so.

“Thank you Rhonda.” Mr Martin chimes in, stopping the conversation from escalating any further. “So today, I figured we would get to know our newest member. Y/N you’ve been here for a couple of weeks now and we still don’t know too much about you.”

“I’m sure Wally could tell us all about her.” Rhonda remarks under her breath. So quiet, I almost don’t catch it.

“I’m sorry, is there something you want to say?” I snap, my tone harsh and confronting.

She laughs in response, the annoyance on my face evident as I glare at her. Her snarky and sarcastic nature hasn’t proven to be a problem for me, though I think that may be about to change.

“Y/N, tell us about your death. We’re all dying to know what happened. No pun intended.” The teacher interjects, attempting to diffuse the tense situation yet I still feel on edge.

“No thank you.”

“Oh come on Y/N, none of us are going to judge you. You know that.” Charlie tells me, offering me a reassuring smile.

“No, she’d rather just listen to all our trauma. Isn’t that right cherry pop?”

Rhonda’s words strike a chord within me. I’ll admit, the other ghosts have been very open about their deaths with me. All discussing in detail what happened to them to result in this fate. Sure, I haven’t divulged into the details of my death as of yet, but it’s for good reason. Not only am I still trying to process it myself but I don’t want them to look at me any differently nor do I want them to take pity on me when they learn the details.

“Do you have a problem with me or something Rhonda?” I ask, swinging around in my chair so that I can face her directly.

Upon doing so, I take note of how Charlie and Wally are quick to sit up straight. Feeling the anger radiating off me and awaiting any possible confrontation that may be about to occur.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” The girl retorts, crossing her arms over her chest before she continues speaking. “You waltz in here and make no effort with any of us besides Wally. Who, let’s not forget, you made to feel like a piece of shit on your first day after that unreasonable outburst. You listen to all of us recounting our deaths, the most traumatic things that could’ve happened to us and still none of us know what happened to you. It hardly seems fair.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Rhonda. I’m sorry that i’m still processing what happened to me. I’m sorry that I’m not ready to discuss it with a group of strangers. I am so sorry that I’m not getting over everything as quick as you would like me to.”

My voice is raised as I speak, hurt that she would even think that my choice not to share what happened is a personal attack on the group. No matter how hurt I’m feeling, the anger completely outweighs it. Angry that she can’t see that I’m still struggling and angry that my murderers are still attending this school. Instead of being locked behind bars for the rest of their life, like they deserve to be. Nobody can understand what I am going through and that makes me so astonishingly angry.

“Boo hoo. You’re still processing, we’re all still processing. Not to mention the fact that we’ve barely seen Wally these past couple of weeks because he’s been trailing around after you, trying to make you feel less threatened by him. He’s even taken off that stupid football shirt that he loved so much! I hate to break it to you, but he was here first.” She argues, tears well in my eyes as she mentions Wally. I lock eyes with him and see his downcast expression. Was she right? Was he only spending this time with me to make me feel better and less scared? “You should do everybody a favour and fuck off back to the old toilet block where you came from.”

“Rhonda!” Charlie exclaims, clearly shocked by her words.

“Is that how you really feel Wally?” I ask hesitantly, the dejection evident in my voice.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Nodding slightly, I understand completely. Pushing myself out of the chair, nobody speaks as I make my exit from the room.

“Lovely chat.” Rhonda shouts, one last attempt to get a reaction from me. Even as I shove open the doors with an obnoxious slam, I don’t look back.

The entirety of my body feels heavy as I drag myself down the hallways. Nobody comes after me, not even Wally. I feel truly alone, hurt and confused. Death was supposed to be peaceful and yet here I am. Suffering more than I ever did when alive.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 days

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Dreaming and Drowning

This fic will fill my "Take a deep breath." square on my Hurt/Comfort, Sweet & Spicy Bingo card. The prompt will be bolded in the fic. @sweetspicybingo

Summary: Michael is fascinated by Y/N. She isn't the only thing keeping him inside his vessel, but she's a very interesting bonus. Now if only he can keep Dean quiet for long enough to conduct some experiments.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Nothing too terrible. Show level violence. Some descriptions of torture. Threatened/implied sexual assault/non-con (nothing shown or described). Depictions of drowning.

Pairings: Michael!Dean x Y/N and Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 2,579

A/N: I'm trying to work my way through my requests but I'm still back in last December! 😫 I'm sorry to everyone who's put in requests, I'm working on 'em!

Anyway, this request was for a "fatal attraction" Bingo square for a different bingo. It was from the lovely @elle14-blog1 who asked:

Hello Dear Been addicted to your page lately Love the Dean fics So about the Fatal Attraction request Maybe could you write soft dark fatal attraction of Michael Dean towards Dean’s Gf..one of the more reason he doesn’t wanna leave the vessel… Ok bye bye Xoxo💖

That space for that bingo was claimed already. But I really enjoyed this idea, so I said I'd do it another time. Well, here it is. I'm not sure if it's what you were looking for, I hope so. Hope everyone enjoys. This is the first time I've written anything for Michael!Dean, so be nice. 😁

Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Every once in a while Dean swam to the surface; he broke through heavy, cloying water to suck oxygen into his starving, burning lungs.

But the water was choppy and rushing, the current swept him along at a feverish pace and he could never swim hard enough or fast enough to outrun it; inevitably the cold, gray water would submerge him again and leave him drowning.

But in those few moments of clarity, he’d see her. He’d see the way she was bound, he’d watch the way his hands pulled screams from her lungs. As the water rushed around his ears, it couldn’t drown out the way her voice begged him to stop.

Not me, he reminded himself.

It wasn’t him. This was Michael’s doing. Michael was hurting her.

And who let me in? His own voice would answer back, before shoving him back down under the water with a sneering laugh.

We both know she’s here because of you, because she wanted to save you from me. So sweet. But who’s going to save HER from me.

Oops, I mean save her from you.

***

Michael watched Y/N struggle, a soft smile on his borrowed countenance; she really was rather extraordinary, this particular little ape. He’d tortured her slowly, nothing too drastic to start, he didn’t want to permanently alter her, not yet.

He was very interested in her, interested in the noises she made when she tried not to scream, in the way he could feel the air shift almost imperceptibly when she held her breath against the pain. He loved to watch the way involuntary goosebumps erupted across her skin when he ran a finger over it.

How strange, he thought, to not be able to control something as basic as the texture of your skin.

The human body was rather fascinating, hers even more than most. She was so soft in places, her skin bruised so easily, sometimes nothing more than a hard pinch brought a pretty purple stain to her skin. Harder blows bloomed blue and green almost immediately. Her blood ran dark red and tasted coppery with a hint of something more tangy just below the surface.

Is that the difference of her psychic blood? He wondered.

It was why he’d taken her to begin with. He’d been experimenting with all kinds of monsters, and they were finally starting to pay off, but he’d never tried mixing his grace with a psychic, he thought the results might be very interesting. So when a memory had surfaced in Dean Winchester’s brain about his psychic girlfriend, he’d decided to let her find him.

She and Sam Winchester had been searching far and wide for him, for Dean. He could have easily outrun them forever. But he decided to stay put for a moment and let her catch up. All he’d had to do to lure her in was let the ghost of Dean shine through his eyes for a moment and she came running, desperate to help.

And just like that, she was trapped in his web.

He’d spent the first few days just getting to know her, testing her body’s capabilities and limits; how much could she bleed before she became too weak to stand on her own? How long could she hold back screams when he started cutting? How much force did it take to snap her radius, her femur?

He was thoroughly enjoying his experiments with her, simply healing her up after each one so that he could try his next idea. He’d begun to see what Dean saw in her, there was something quite beautiful in the way the ape struggled against the inevitable, the way she fought against him, knowing her efforts were completely useless. He liked the defiance in her eyes, it made his human body react in interesting ways.

Her pain and her resistance made his pilfered blood run hot and thick in his veins, made his body hard, made him run his hands up and down her body with no other purpose than to feel its softness.

On his fourth day with her he had her stripped her down to her underthings, intending to burn her with the tip of a poker, curious to see what color her skin turned as it flaked off. He knew he was wasting time really. He’d experimented with her enough, he should be feeding her his grace to see what kind of hybrid monster he could make of the psychic.

But when he saw her in her bra and panties, memories that weren’t his surfaced in his mind, Dean’s memories of how she looked when she was beneath him, the way her head jerked back as she gasped with pleasure, the way her knuckles went white, bunched in the sheets, her body bucking into Dean’s hand, and suddenly he knew how he wanted to finish off his experimentation.

He’d never experimented like this before, none of the human bodies he’d encountered in the past had affected him this way. He wasn’t sure if it was some kind of pull from her psychic blood, or the memories he had access to, or if it was simply the enjoyment he’d already gotten from this flesh, but for the first time he felt an earthly need for the body in front of him.

As he approached her, he saw panic in her gaze and wondered if her psychic abilities had allowed her to see what was coming. But as he registered her panic, he suddenly felt Dean back above water and screaming, roaring inside their mind.

Get the fuck away from her! I will rip you apart from the inside!

Michael chuckled. Come on now, Dean. I know exactly how much you enjoy this body, I’m doing this as much for you as for me.

Michael lifted his hand to run his finger down Y/N’s cheek. She recoiled and he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. He did his best impression of Dean, smiling and hoping it looked friendly and not feral.

“Don’t look away, sweetheart. It’s me. I know you love me, I know you want me. Let me make you feel better.”

He watched her face in fascination; her expressions ran the gamut between horrified, heartbroken, and lustful. But he could practically smell her hope, her need; she was absolutely desperate to pretend the man she loved was there and her tormentor was gone.

Humans really are odd little things. Michael thought.

Dean was still screaming, and then garbling his words beneath the ocean Michael drowned him in. Enough out of you, he thought with a smirk.

Maybe it was the cold smirk that did it, breaking the illusion that he was Dean, or maybe it was Y/N’s abject terror at the idea of what was about to happen. But the very last of her defiance seemed to pulse through her and something in her shifted. He could feel it in the way the hairs on his arms stood up, the way a deep, thrumming buzz began to sound inside his ears.

Y/N’s body began to pulse as well, like waves of energy gearing up. He raised a hand, his eyes glowing blue as he shot his grace towards her. The first beam hit her and stopped her, but she was soon powering up again, and when his grace surged at her a second time, she knocked it away with one of the hands she got free, snapping the chains that held her to the wall.

He pushed grace towards her again, but she wrapped herself in a psychic shield and broke her remaining chains. As he continued to fight, continued to pour grace out of himself and wield it like a sword, he felt Dean surface again. In his mind’s eye he could see him gasping and fighting for the shoreline. Michael tried to force him back under water, but he was using too much of his strength to keep Y/N back.

And Dean was fighting incredibly hard.

It was a two-pronged attack, from the inside and outside, and it was not something he’d been expecting. Y/N moved slowly, wrapped in her bubble, towards the bag she’d been traveling with when he caught her. As she reached the backpack, he managed to penetrate the bubble and sent her flying backwards.

Before he could press his advantage, however, Y/N was on her feet again and sending a pulse wave of energy into him, making him stumble backwards. She grabbed the bag quickly and from inside she pulled out a gold, metal, egg-shaped object. He could feel Dean leaving the water as Y/N began to chant in Enochian.

Before she was more than two words in, however, the impossible happened and Michael could feel Dean scream at him.

“Get out!”

His words were powerful enough to defeat Michael in his slightly weakened condition, and the archangel could feel his essence begin to be expelled from the body he’d resided in for almost two months. As he was forced out, he felt another call, another pull, and he looked on in horror as he was inexorably yanked out of Dean’s body right into the tiny space of the egg.

The egg was tiny, but Michael fell for days, down and down and down, until he landed on a dark, rocky, moldy floor.

He looked around him and sitting across the floor was a human, glowing with the angel inside him. The angel looked very familiar.

The celestial who shared his name chuckled at the strange turn of events. “Welcome to the cage, doppelganger.”

***

Dean felt weak as he fell to the ground, as though he’d been running for days, weeks. No, not running, swimming, fighting against the current.

His muscles were shaking and he felt as though he might puke. Then he saw Y/N curled in a ball on the dirty floor of the cold, abandoned warehouse they were in and he rushed to her. He pulled off the suit jacket he wore and helped her sit up so he could wrap it around her shoulders.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” He said quietly as she shook beneath his hands.

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes; but under the tears was fear, stark terror, and suspicion.

“Dean?” She asked in a whisper, and he knew she still couldn’t trust that it was him. It hurt his heart to see the fear there; would she always see the sadistic angel looking back at her from now on?

He let go of her and moved away a bit to try and ease her worry. “It’s me, baby, it’s me. I promise. You got Michael, trapped him in that.” He nodded towards the egg. “He’s in the cage.”

Y/N stared at him, but then she shook her head slightly. “No, I didn’t get the spell out, you were already forcing him out. The egg just grabbed him as he was fleeing.” A small smile touched the corners of her lips. “You did it.”

Dean risked coming a bit closer again, reaching out a palm to lay against her cheek, rejoicing when she leaned into his touch.

He leaned towards her and rested his forehead against hers. “No, we did it. We make a good team.”

A broken cry fell from her mouth as she threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped her tightly in his embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I tried to get out, I tried to get to you, but I couldn’t. I tried and tried, but-”

Y/N cut him off with a kiss. Dean wept into it and didn’t even try to hide it. She tasted his salty tears and pulled back cupping his cheeks in her hands and shaking her head.

“No Dean, please don’t. Don’t put this on you, don’t punish yourself.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, why not? I let him in.”

Y/N brushed away his tears. “Yeah, to save Sam and Jack.” Dean opened his mouth to interrupt her again, but she continued quickly. “And if you punish yourself, you’ll hurt me too.”

Dean looked at her intently and she shook her head slowly. “We’re both safe now. We beat him. Together.” She inhaled deeply. “Look, take a deep breath. Go on.” She encouraged when he didn’t do it immediately.

He began to breathe in sync with her, timing his breathing with hers, but visions kept popping into his mind, the things Michael did to her using his hands, and he knew he hadn’t even seen everything; he knew there were things he couldn’t remember from when he'd been deeply submerged.

His breathing faltered and Y/N sighed. “I don’t remember all of it either.” She said; her psychic abilities were incredibly powerful, but he knew she wasn’t reading his mind - she just knew him too well, knew the way his mind worked, even from outside of it.

She cupped his cheeks again so he was looking into her eyes. “Can I show you where I was hiding a lot of the time?”

Dean nodded and she rested her forehead on his; he closed his eyes and let her in.

There was suddenly a picture in his mind, like a memory, but he knew it wasn’t his. In truth, it wasn’t really a memory but a vision. In the vision he could see the two of them in an old hunter’s cabin; he remembered staying there once, years ago. But they’d simply holed up there for a night after a hunt.

The visions going through his mind had never happened. They were simply Y/N’s imaginings, the place she went in her mind to escape Michael’s torment.

In the vision Y/N and Dean cuddled together in the old bed and he was kissing her tenderly; they were having a food fight in the kitchen which she let him win so that he could lick frosting from her skin; Dean was reading to her and making her laugh by doing silly voices; they were eating pizza and talking animatedly about a hunt.

Then the visions shifted to a Christmas setting and they were sitting beside a big Christmas tree and he had the sense of being surrounded by family and loved ones, all laughing, happy and joyful, just beyond his eyeline.

In the span of a breath, he was suddenly back on the warehouse floor as Y/N broke the connection and pulled back. “I was only here sometimes, I ran away from him, as much as possible, ran far into my mind. And every single safe place in my mind revolved around you.”

He shuddered as she ran her hand soothingly through his hair. His voice was raspy with unshed tears. “I love you - so much.”

She finally let her tears flow free as she kissed him again. “I love you too.”

They clung to each other for a long time, finding their way back to one another and back to the sense of belonging they found in the other’s arms.

Finally Dean pushed himself to his feet and pulled Y/N with him. “Let’s get out of here and find Sam.” Y/N nodded, but before she could turn to get her bag, he pulled her to him for another kiss.

When he pulled back, his green eyes were shining. “And it’s Christmas in a week. Let’s find that cabin, let’s invite everyone we know, and let’s make that dream a reality. Let’s not wait anymore to be happy.”

Y/N smiled widely and nodded, tears shimmering. “That sounds like a dream.”

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#sweetspicyhc #micheal!dean x reader #micheal!dean x y/n #dean x y/n #hurt/comfort #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean x reader

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marvel-ous-m · 2 days

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Time Will Tell

WC: 3260 | Rating: Teen and Up | Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, The Unrelenting Anxiety of Gift-Giving | AO3 Link

Summary: It's Eddie's 21st Birthday, and Steve's not sure what gift he should get him, what would show the man how much he loves him, how glad he is that they've been able to share the last six months together. That indecisiveness is made worse by the fact he's known since he was six: people are never honest about whether or not they actually appreciate the gift they've been given- and Steve can't stand the idea of Eddie not liking the gift but pretending for Steve's sake. Steve ends up choosing a gift that he knows Eddie won't like in an effort to save everyone pain. That decision sparks a much-needed conversation, and helps Steve understand that his parent's relationship really isn't the blueprint.

Fic Below the Cut!

“-An emerald, I mean, really, could that man at least try to act like he knows me?”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together in confusion at his mother’s exclamation, and he tilted his head. His eyes remained trained on his feet, wrapped in small leather loafers that hung off the side of his parent’s bed. “But Mama, I thought you said you loved it earlier? That it was pretty?”

His mother gave a great, put-upon sigh and turned to face where Steve was seated on the bed. “You’ll understand when you’re older, baby.” Her arms stretched awkwardly around her neck while she spoke, her hands struggling with the clasp of the necklace Steve’s father had presented to her that morning, a gift for her birthday.

Steve huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms. “But wanna und’stand now.”

“You’re a big boy now, Steven. You’re six, enunciate your words, and don’t whine.” Her reprimand came stern, and was juxtaposed by the soft “Aha!” moments later, when the clasp of the necklace finally closed. She turned back towards the vanity and rested her precisely manicured hands over the pendant, a gleaming emerald wrapped in gold, then smiled sadly at herself in the mirror.

“Gifts are rarely about what you actually want, Steven. More often than not, they’re about the monetary value, or meeting a need, or subtly showing the recipient that you have the upper hand. They’re… strategic. I needed a new piece of jewelry for the party tonight, your father delivered- even though the gem he gave me clashes with my eyes, and my skin tone is more complemented by platinum than gold. He gave me this necklace because it makes him look good. It would’ve been nice if he put thought into it- but, well, it would be rude not to be grateful.”

“But… Mama, couldn’t Daddy do both? Get you something you need, and make it something you like?”

His mother’s smile wavered and her eyes softened from where they were now gazing at Steve through his reflection in the vanity mirror. “He could, yes, but it’s like you said- I told him I loved it. As far as your father is concerned, he’s done exactly that- gotten me something I like and need. I’m not going to tell him otherwise. Does that make sense?”

No. In Steve’s six-year-old brain, it really, really didn’t. “I guess so.”

His mother nodded at him from the mirror, then began to put on her earrings. “Good. Now, do you remember what to say when one of your father’s coworkers asks you what you want to be when you grow up?”

This was something that Steve could understand, a response his mother had been teaching him for the last few weeks. Steve beamed. “I want to be an attorney like my Daddy!”

“Good job, baby. Now, go and brush your teeth- we’ll be leaving in a few minutes. It’s your first time joining us at dinner, I want to make sure you’re absolutely perfect.”

“Okay Mama!” Steve scooted off the edge of the bed and toddled towards his parent’s bedroom door, being careful to walk with flat feet so he wouldn’t crease the leather of his loafers, just how his Mama taught him.

“Oh, and Stevie? Don’t tell your father how I feel about the necklace, okay? That’s a just for us conversation.”

Steve nodded, familiar with the concept of keeping certain conversations he had with his mother or father a secret from the other. “Alright, Mama.”

Eddie didn’t like his gift, and Steve knew that. Had prepared for that exact outcome, in fact.

He wasn’t sure what would be good enough to get Eddie for his birthday. They’d been dating for almost six months already, had been flirting around each other for even longer, and Steve was at a loss.

What do you get for the person who you fought hell with? For the person who beat the odds and lived despite everything, for the person you’ve seen at their lowest- the person who saw you at your lowest? What item could possibly express how much Steve adores Eddie, could say how happy he is that Eddie even made it to his 21st birthday after everything that happened? What could serve as a physical testament to the truth of all of their ‘I love you’s and all of the ‘I’m so glad you’re here’s?

Steve got Eddie a watch.

It was the backup gift of the backup gift of the backup gift. A decision made entirely out of cowardice, his mother’s words ringing in his ear.

He had wanted to get Eddie a new battle vest initially- then decided against it, because he was worried it would serve as too much of a reminder of what had happened last Spring.

He’d thought about a guitar case next, an idea that sprung up when he was walking by the music shop downtown. He literally face-palmed moments later, gaining a strange look from a passerby, when he realized that Eddie’s guitar had been left in the Upside Down, that he still didn’t have a new electric guitar, and he already had a case for his acoustic.

Naturally, a new guitar came to mind as a gift idea next, but he nixed that immediately too. The whole reason Eddie hadn’t bought a new guitar yet was because he was very particular about the instrument- and Steve had no idea about all of the different things to consider in guitar buying, so he’d probably just fuck it up. He considered some other stuff, too- new materials to play D&D, concert tickets- but his mind just kept screaming at him, telling him that he didn’t know Eddie well enough to give him any of those gifts.

Really, all he could think about was how badly he would fuck up giving Eddie any meaningful gift- how he’d probably never know if Eddie didn’t like it, because people always pretended that they liked a gift even if they didn’t, so it was basically impossible to tell whether something was actually appreciated.

At the end of the day, it was just easier to abide by the words his mother told him at six and get something that would look nice. Steve wouldn’t be putting his emotions on the line by getting a risky gift, something that Eddie would either love more than anything or absolutely despise.

It was a gift that didn’t match Eddie’s personality at all, and Steve knew that. Eddie was always running late to things, but that’s just how he was. It was endearing, a trait that was lovable, not something to be fixed by having a watch on his wrist.

Steve had, in fact, only realized the negative connotation of the gift after he’d decided to buy it, but it was too late to decide on something else, so he tried to ignore the way his stomach hurt throughout the process of purchasing the thing, and hoped for the best.

Eddie didn’t care about showings of wealth either, so it was pretty pointless for Steve to get him such a nice watch. It wasn’t, like, a Rolex, but he had to save up a bit to buy it. It was made up of dark gray metal with a black leather band, a decision that was made out of Steve trying his best to at least make the gift something that wouldn’t clash with Eddie’s usual attire.

He put a bow on the box it came in and added it to the pile of gifts at Eddie’s birthday party. He tried to stop himself from looking at Eddie when he was going through the process of opening presents, ignored the way his hackles rose when Eddie opened up the watch and gave a tight smile, then a forced-out “Thanks” to Steve, and moved on to opening the next gift wordlessly.

Every other gift elicited a dramatic response from Eddie- a drawing from Will, new dice and minifigures from the kids, a mixtape from Robin, some sci-fi books from Nancy, homemade brownies (yes, *those* brownies) from Jon and Argyle-

And Steve got Eddie a watch.

The rest of the guests to Eddie’s birthday party slowly filtered out of the trailer after all the presents were opened, that having been the close of the party’s festivities. Steve stuck around, cleaning up the trash and dirty dishes strewn around the surrounding area.

Steve and Eddie danced around each other wordlessly- Steve cleaning up while Eddie moved the various gifts from the living room to his bedroom. When all of the leftover paper plates, napkins, and cups were thrown away, and Steve couldn’t find any other dishes to wash in the kitchen, he returned to the living room.

Eddie was seated on the couch by that point, and the watch- in its box, the lid propped open to display the thing- was resting on the coffee table in front of him. “Are you mad at me, Steve? Because, if you are, we could’ve just- I don’t know, talked, instead of you embarrassing me in front of all of our friends on my birthday.”

Steve felt the familiar burn of tears and ducked his head so that Eddie wouldn’t see how his words had affected him.

Eddie wasn’t following the script.

The script which said, no matter what, just pretend to like the present so you don’t appear ungrateful. The script that Steve had been raised on, the script that taught him how to play his part. The script that had motivated him to get the gift in the first place.

“I didn’t mean to be late to Party movie night last week, or to our date three weeks ago, it’s just hard for me to realize what time it is when I’m stuck in my head about something. I didn’t realize that it was bothering you so much- you could’ve told me, y’know? I just feel like shit now, and I’m not even angry- not at you, I’m mad at myself and I’m upset that you didn’t just tell me, and-”

“-I’m sorry.” Steve’s apology came whispered, barely audible due to his head still hanging, staring down at his feet.

His feet, which were wrapped in white, scuffed tennis shoes.

A far cry from the loafers he’d worn at six.

Steve wrapped his arms around himself and focused on taking measured breaths.

He was so clearly detached from the life of his parents, from the unhealthy ideology that stemmed from having too much money and being in a practical relationship rather than one that was built on love.

His relationship with Eddie couldn’t be more different, yet he’d slipped back into that familiar, thinly-veiled selfishness the second he felt anxiety over getting Eddie the wrong thing. Eddie had always been honest with him, so how could Steve ever think that he’d pull the same passive-aggressive misrepresentation of love that his mother so often portrayed to his father?

“Steve?”

It seemed Eddie had crossed the room while Steve had been distracted by his own thoughts, seeing as the man was now cupping Steve’s jaw with his hand, a concerned look in his eyes. “Where’d you go, sweetheart?”

“S-sorry. I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think I’m good at it.” Steve’s words came quicker than his thoughts, and his breath hitched as he spoke due to his steady crying.

“Good at what, Stevie?”

“Gifts.”

Eddie hummed under his breath, his thumb gently swiping against Steve’s cheekbone in an effort to wipe away his tears. “Care to expand on that, baby? Because the Stevie I know just gave Robin a weekend trip to Chicago for her birthday a month ago, and it made her cry so hard she almost threw up.”

“It’s different.”

“What’s different?”

“We-we’re together, and- shit, Eds, I had a ton of ideas of things I thought you’d like, but I just kept thinking I’d get it wrong, but you wouldn’t- look, you love me too, right?”

Eddie huffed out a soft breath of confusion, and his other hand moved to rest on the small of Steve’s back, pulling him into a hug. “Of course I love you, I tell you everyday”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve’s voice was near pleading, wobbling with renewed emotion while fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. “So even if I got you the wrong thing, I’d never know that, and then I’d just keep fucking up, and next thing you know, we’d resent each other and disguise that hatred in things that are supposed to be displays of love, like gifts, and we’d end up like my parents, and I can’t do that to you, you never deserve to feel that way-”

“Hold on- sorry to cut you off, sweetheart, but I feel like I got a little lost there. C’mon, let’s sit.” Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s and tugged him towards the couch, then gently shoved Steve onto a cushion and curled up next to him, keeping their hands linked. “Okay, I have three questions. One, why do you think you’d get me the ‘wrong thing’; two, why wouldn’t you know if I didn’t like something; and three, if I love you so much- which you know I do, why do you think we’d end up like your parents?”

Steve sniffed, scrubbing his eyes with the palm of his free hand to try and wipe the tears away. “It’s- okay, so, I wanted to get you a new vest, right? But that would just be a reminder of what happened back in the Upside Down, and then I wanted to get you a guitar case, but that wouldn’t work for obvious reasons- then I thought of a new guitar, but I’d definitely fuck that up because I don’t know the first thing about guitars. I thought about some other stuff, like for D&D or whatever, but I didn’t think that would be enough- and I just kept psyching myself out, right? Because my whole childhood, my dad got my mom these gifts, but they weren’t things she actually wanted, and all I could think about is how I could accidentally do that for you.

“My mom, she always told him how happy she was, then would turn around and tell me or her friends how much she hated the thing and- I couldn’t stomach the idea of that happening, of not knowing that I upset you, so I just- I defaulted to something that would look nice, right? A strategic gift, rather than something special. I honestly didn’t even think about you being late to things until after I decided to buy it, and then I hated that I’d made that decision, because I don’t think you being late to stuff is something that needs to change, I actually kinda love it about you because it means that you were so wrapped up in something else, something you love.

“Anyways- I just went through with it, bought the thing because I didn’t know what else to do, because knowing that you wouldn’t like it honestly made it easier than getting my hopes up about you liking something and then always questioning whether you actually liked it because people never really say what they think, but then you just came out and said what you thought about the frankly shit gift I got you, and I can’t believe it took that to make me realize how fuckin’ stupid I was being by just falling back into the toxic shit my parents taught me growing up. I’m so sorry, Eds. You didn’t deserve that. We’re obviously not going to end up like my parents, stuck together and hating each other- but sometimes, when I navigate us, I can’t help but go back to them, because they were my blueprint. Does that make sense?”

Eddie’s hold on his hand hadn’t waned throughout Steve’s rambling explanation, and only grew tighter, more supportive, at the close of Steve’s question. “Yeah, sweetheart, that makes sense. I hate that you found yourself going down that line of thinking, but I understand that that’s where you’d go if your parents created that atmosphere for you.”

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Steve’s attention having turned towards the rings on Eddie’s hand that was tangled with his own, while Eddie used his other hand to gently card through Steve’s hair. Steve’s tears had slowed throughout his expounding and had become the occasional sniffle, joined by a shuddering breath.

Eddie eventually broke their silence, his voice soft and his tone careful. “For what it’s worth, I can tell you put a lot of thought into it. Even if it’s not really something I was hoping for, you chose a gift that would go with my outfits, chose my favorite colors. I can tell how much it mattered to you to get something I’d like, even if you defaulted to making it something that you knew wouldn’t mean, y’know, the world to me.”

Steve huffed, shifting so that he could burrow his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck. “You don’t have to try and make it not shitty, Eds, I know it sucks. I knew that going in.”

“I’m being honest, I still appreciate the good intentions behind it.”

“I’m sorry that it made you feel so shitty- sorry that now you have to deal with all this on top of it, on your fucking birthday-”

“Stevie, baby, it’s okay. Being with you- that alone means the world to me. You could’ve gotten me nothing and I would’ve been grateful to be with you, because in my opinion, you are the greatest gift I’ve ever received. As for working through childhood shit on my birthday, that’s not, like, a chore for me. I’m happy to be here, to talk about these things with you, because I love you, and that’s part of our love. Okay?”

Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, and Steve melted underneath him, letting out a soft sigh. “Yeah, okay.”

Steve shifted closer and kissed the dip of Eddie’s shoulder, then wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull the man closer. “I still wanna do something to apologize, something to celebrate you rather than make us fight.”

“You didn’t make us fight, baby. I was just confused. We talked, we figured stuff out, we’re holding each other, everything is good. You don’t have to make it up to me, because there’s nothing to make up.”

Steve hummed against Eddie’s neck, his hand moving up to brush through his curls. “I don’t have to, but I still want to. Maybe not tonight, because I kinda think we should just cuddle and eat leftover cake and watch a movie, but tomorrow I wanna take you out, just drive for a few hours, we can find a place to grab some food together. After that, maybe we can come back here, hold each other a while. We can do that thing you like so much with your belt and my hands…” Steve trailed off, his tone lilting into something flirtatious.

Eddie gave a giddy chuckle in response, flicking Steve’s bicep playfully. “Yeah, alright loverboy. As long as you’re feeling up for it, and not doing it because you feel like you have to do it- I think that I would love that.”

“Then consider it done.” Steve sat back slightly to press a kiss to Eddie’s lips, then returned to his spot against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Sounds like an outstanding gift. I’ll be counting down the seconds ‘til then, sweetheart.”

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #em writes #steddie fic #steddie established relationship #steddie hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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bts-hyperfixation · 3 days

Text

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 38 of????

2634 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

You wake up to the same squeezing feeling settled around your chest, although that could also be the weight of Jungkook's arms as the bunny holds you tightly even in his sleep.

All things considered, you had slept quite soundly, you just wish someone had told your body that as it tries to tell you how exhausted you are.

You do your best to worm your way out of the youngest's embrace, disturbing him only slightly before he turns around and gathers Jimin into his arms instead. You take one more look at their sleeping forms before tip-toeing out of the room. No one is sitting in the living room making your escape easier as you slip silently through to the front door.

You aren't really sure where you are going, you just know one more minute in the house is going to make you combust. So you walk for a while, you pass your old office, pass the restaurant you went to the day you met Jimin, pass Hobi's karaoke shop. You continue going until nothing around you is familiar and then your stomach starts to growl.

You walk into the first cafe you see and sit yourself in a booth at the back, taking a deep breath as you finally take stock of the position you are now in. The cafe is mostly empty with one other customer in the far corner and two waitresses who look more than a little annoyed that you have invaded their space. The elder of the two hands you a menu and waits to take your order. You barely take any notice, pointing to the first thing under the breakfast title.

With nothing left to distract you from the fear, it starts creeping back in; A remnant phobia from the hybrid genes mixed with your sheltered childhood. An instinct that tells you to disappear before you're trapped again.

Your mind runs through the previous day countless times. How ready you had been to fight for Taehyung and his freedom, only for his solution to be to trap you with him. The logical section of your brain tries to remind you that he is not trying to collect or ensnare you, that this may be his best shot to stay with you and the other members of your relationship.

The emotional side of you however can't quite get over how much your new life has come to resemble your previous one. Living in someone else's home, no career to call your own, and now a convenient trophy on the arm of another rich man...

A stack of pancakes is placed in front of your face bringing you out of your miserable monologue but instead of finding the aging waitress, you find Noelle beaming down at you.

"Y/N! Long time no see," She smiles.

The mouse hybrid invites herself to sit with you, sliding into the booth opposite.

"Although it feels like I'm all caught up with the amount Jimin talks about you at the shelter,"

She reaches out and takes a berry from the side of your plate. You do your best to smile in return at her, before today you may have actually been thrilled to see Noelle since she was right, it had been a long time. But right now didn't feel like a socialising time.

"Perhaps I'm not all caught up judging by that sour look in your eye... Maybe a new set of ears can help?" She offers.

"I don't know. It's a lot, I'm not sure I fully understand my issues, I wouldn't want to burden you,"

"You're my friend Y/N, you could never be a burden to me. And if you're not at home talking this out with the seven wonderful men that dote on your every whim, then I think you need the outside ear... Am I wrong?"

Noelle takes your hand from the table and holds it in her own, doing her best to reassure you.

You ponder it for a moment, but she is right an outside opinion might help your brain to rationalise, although perhaps you should think about booking your own session with Dr. Triever instead...

Still, you relay the entire situation starting from your 16th birthday all the way up to today. And she listens to you patiently, not interrupting once even when you stray from the main subject on to distracting details, although she does steal a few bites of your breakfast.

"And so I've landed at the point where I know I have to marry Tae, and I love him so that's okay! I'm just having a lot of trouble getting my instincts to retreat. My hackles raise every time I think about it, and honestly it's making my back start to ache."

"Have you considered not saying yes to marrying Tae?" Noelle suggests.

"Of course not. If I don't marry him then he and that poor girl are going to be forced together. I know what that's like and I won't let it happen to someone I love."

"No, you'll just let it happen to you a second time," She rolls her eyes. "Okay, let's start with an easier part of the equation. Jimin said you had put a lot of the funds behind the new renovations, doesn't that make it your house, not just theirs anymore?"

"I mean, I guess? But it's not what I had in mind. My name isn't on any of the paperwork for the land, and I really did think I was going to live all on my own in the world."

"Living on your own is not all it's cracked up to be, trust me. I'd give anything for a cuddle some nights, especially during storms," She shudders dramatically. "And you gave up your job yourself, but I'm 100% sure we could get you another one if that is an issue, but I think your brain is just searching for reasons to run. Really think about it, how much do you mind not working?"

You do think about it. And maybe spending your time in the house was far more satisfying than going to your nine to five. But it's still the principle of the matter. You had promised yourself that you were going to do it on your own. Now you've failed.

And that's really the crux of it. Not that you're living with the boys, not that you've dipped into your money, not that you find yourself suddenly betrothed. It's the fact that you have perceived yourself as failing. Unable to prove that you could take care of yourself in the big bad world that your parents worked so hard to protect you from.

You let Noelle in on your thoughts as she finishes off your breakfast for you.

"The way I see it, you haven't failed yourself. You've just found something more suitable instead. But if your stomach is still in knots about it, it's better to run now than on the day of the wedding," She shrugs.

"You make an excellent point," You concede.

________________

With the food gone, and your heart somewhat unsqueezed, you and Noelle head back into the world. You walk her back as far as the shelter. You intend to leave her at the door, but Jimin sees you through the window before you can make your escape.

You contemplate running, pretending you didn't see him. But a confrontation is on the cards either way and it's probably better to get it over with than let Jimin drive his colleagues insane through the course of the day. Plus the man is far faster than he looks and he is stood in your path before you would've been able to escape anyway.

"Where the hell did you go?" The redhead tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks in the middle, your heart along with it, "You didn't wake anyone, you didn't answer your phone, you didn't even leave a note. Why?"

"I couldn't breathe, I didn't really think about it, I just knew I had to move," You answer honestly.

He sighs and glances around you, noticing the audience that seems to be gathering in the windows

He wraps an arm around your waist pulling you into him, and his other hand lands in your hair smoothing it down. He shuffles the two of you into the shadows of the building instead of standing out in the open where anyone can look out and see you there.

"Obviously you're not okay so I'm not going to ask you that... Are you... Is there anything I can do?"

"No, it's not your problem it's mine."

"Was it the proposal? I think that caught us all off guard and Taehyung doesn't expect you to go through with it."

A dry laugh escapes your mouth before you can stop it. Jimin takes a step back and meets your eyes.

"You don't believe me?"

"I believe you that he doesn't expect me to go through with it, but I think we all know that I have to... and I want to! honestly, I do. I'll do anything so you guys don't, so we don't, lose Taehyung. I just need to get my head around it."

"I think you should go home Y/N. Talk with Jin or Namjoon, although maybe avoid Kookie and Taehyung until you can lie more convincingly than you did to me just now," He pecks your forehead and lets you go fully, "I'm so glad you're safe."

He sends you away with a promise to text him when you return home. You drag your feet the entire way knowing that Jimin is right and you need to talk through everything with a voice of reason. Jin might be the obvious choice, while a clown the majority of the time, his clinical doctor side allows him to separate emotion from sensitive topics. Something tells you that he isn't what you need right now.

So when you reach the main house you walk inside the unfinished building and straight into Namjoon's new office finding him sitting at his new oak desk, just stroking the wood. He startles as your hand lands on his shoulder.

"Shit Y/N, where did you come from?" He clutches at his chest dramatically.

You flop down onto the new armchair as you wait for him to recover from his mini heart attack. He sits silently observing you for a moment too long until you start to wiggle uncomfortably.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" He reaches out a hand and places it on your knee.

You thought you were, but the concern in his voice makes you hesitate. You just shake your head in response instead.

"Okay, then let's not talk. Stand up." He stands too.

He switches places with you sitting down in the armchair and pulling you back into his lap. He manhandles you until you're curled up on his knees with your face nuzzled into his neck. His fingers trace patterns along your thighs and the two of you sit in silence.

The tightness in your chest is still there, curling up in Namjoon's arms is doing nothing to assuage that feeling but it still feels nice everywhere else. You think about what Noelle said about finding a new goal for yourself and you let yourself sniff Namjoon's comforting firewood scent.

"I missed you this morning," He whispers in your ear.

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't be sorry, you needed space and that's okay. I just wanted you to know I missed you,"

He pecks your cheek and you continue sitting in silence. The rope around your heart seems to release, just a little as you allow yourself this comfort.

"I love you," You whisper.

"I love you too," He confirms.

"I love all of you,"

"But you aren't ready to marry Taehyung, or any of us for that matter." He guesses

"I don't think so no... But I can't let Taehyung leave. I know better than anyone how it feels to be in a marriage you didn't choose. And it's so much worse for Taehyung, no one ever threatened me, I didn't have anyone I loved that I had to leave."

"We can think of other solutions for Tae Y/N. We aren't going to let you put yourself in a situation you don't truly want ."

"You don't know families like Tae's, families like mine. There isn't another option. I'm just going to suck it up and marry Taehyung."

"Ah yes, what every man wants to hear his fiance 'suck it up and marry him'" Namjoon chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his unserious response and start to wonder whether you should have gone to see Jin instead.

"Look, this whole situation sucks for all of us, but there are other options we need to consider as a family, this burden doesn't lie on you. Now tell me what else is going on, because the proposal may have been a catalyst but it isn't the whole problem, I can see it in your eyes."

"It's nothing," You sigh

"If it's something, then it's everything. You listen to all our problems so often but won't let us listen to yours." He chastises.

"That's because you guys have real problems, I have stupid insecurities that have no basis in reality. There is no point in me bothering you with superficial issues."

"if it bothers you then it's not superficial and you should be talking to one of us. It doesn't have to be me, but I would love nothing more than for you to be able to confide in me."

"Really Joonie it's silly." You assure him.

"Tell me anyway," he insists.

You contemplate confessing more of your issues. Realistically you know that he does actually want to help you but you also know the burden he already holds, having everyone else's concerns on his shoulder, you want nothing more than to lighten the load for him, not pile more on. However, you also know he won't drop it.

"If I tell you, you have to promise you won't make a big deal out of it. It's my issue and it's something I will get over by myself,"

"Scouts honour," He crosses his heart.

"I'm fairly certain you weren't a scout," You raise an eyebrow.

"The sentiment still stands," He shrugs, "Now tell me."

So you tell him what you told Noelle. He listens intently to each minor problem, each insecure thought, and he doesn't say a word. But you can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to come up with solutions. As you finish speaking, you hold a finger up to his lips.

"But I..." He tries to speak around your finger but you just press harder against his lips.

"You promised," you chastise.

He smirks and your finger slips past his lips and onto his tongue.

He pulls on your wrist to remove the digit from his mouth but not before licking along the length.

"If you really don't want my opinion I won't give it... but I would love for you to sign your name on the lease." he suggests

"That sounds like a solution I didn't ask for," You complain.

"But it's an easy solution that makes so much sense, don't you think?" He sounds far too excited, probably because he is right.

"Maybe... but I still need to come to terms with all these issues on my own Joonie," you enforce the boundary.

"And I will let you... if you let me distract you from those issues for a little while." He says suggestively.

"And how do you propose you do that?" You ask innocently.

He responds by replacing your finger in his mouth and using his now free hand to trace back up the inside of your thigh.

Masterlist

#bts fic #bts smut #kpop fic #kpop smut #namjoon smut #bts imagines #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #jin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #bts hybrids #hybrid v #hybrid bts #bts x yn #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader

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french-unknown · 2 days

Text

𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔼𝕋𝔼ℝℕ𝕀𝕋𝕐 𝕆𝔽 𝔹𝕃𝕆𝕆𝔻

ℂℍ𝔸ℝ𝔸ℂ𝕋𝔼ℝ: trafalgar law ℂ/𝕎: hurt/comfort (sickness), established relationship 𝕎/ℂ: 3.1k + 𝕊𝕌𝕄𝕄𝔸ℝ𝕐: What could be worse than a doctor condemned to watch his lover waste away from a fatal illness? Perhaps a vampire witnessing his companion's failure to access eternity at his side. Law has never had a chance in life.

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝕃𝔸𝕎

You were comfortably lying down on your bed, your back against your soft blankets, while Law's body was lying on top of yours. His head was nestled comfortably in the crook of your neck and you felt his hair, free from his usual hat, tickling your neck as well as your jaw.

In your happy state, you laughed lightly at the situation while gently tugging on a handful of hair that came your way.

Above you, you felt his soft growl against your touching chests before he buried his head even further against you. The grip he also had on your hips tightened and you felt the coolness of his icy hands pierce the thin fabric that covered you. A shiver went up your spine. However, far from being disturbed by the rapprochement, your blissful smile widens and you resume your caresses on his scalp. His messy hair was soft under your fingers.

Your brain was foggy but the pleasure you got from it felt good.

Suddenly, Law shifted against you.

Still in the clouds, you didn't quite understand why your lover released himself from your neck before getting up on his elbows. Your faces came face-to-face. You looked at him in awe as his fangs slowly retracted and he wiped away the few drops of blood that had rolled down the corner of his mouth. You surrounded his chiseled jaw in your hands to brought him closer to you until he was lying on you again and you placed a loving kiss on his lips.

He stayed there briefly, temporarily enjoying the contact, but he rose again.

You saw him looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Your blood tastes weird.” He announced with annoyance.

You laughed discreetly.

“You never told me this one.” You answered him with a smile.“New catchphrase?”

But Law didn't share your good humor.

“Of course. I was torn between «your blood tastes weird» and «you make weird noises when you chew» so I hope you're flattered.” He muttered.

“I think I prefer the one about my chewing.” You laught again but, when he moved further away, you complained, “Come on, it's nothing. Come back to me.”

You then tried to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him back onto you but he pulled away. You let out a sound of sadness as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting on his knees around your thighs.

“Law!” You moan.

The loss of contact caused a cold draft to pass over your neck and make you shiver. You missed his warm, heavy body on yours.

Yet your grumpy lover leaned to the side to retrieve his sword and repositioned himself on you with his weapon.

“Room, scan!” He declared in the darkness of your room.

The room lit up in blue and, among the idyllic setting that this formed, you emerged even brighter. Indeed, your body glowed with the same bluish hue while your veins stood out a blood red. They sparkled in your body like an infinite tree that multiplied and became more and more refined as it approached your extremities. And, in the middle of it all, your arteries were pulsing bright red.

The light eventually faded, leaving only you and Law in near darkness.

You still made out his indecipherable face in the darkness so, still peaceful, you held out your arms for him to come back and settle between them. But he didn't move.

“Law.” You called to him in vain with necessity.

Your body was gradually cooling down and you just wanted to savor your post-meal moment with your lover. But he didn't move except to lower his emotionless eyes from your eyes to your heart. Then he brought them back up to your eyes.

"You will die." He blurted out without the slightest tact.

You laughed in disbelief this time.

“Stop saying stupid things.” You replied before you were finally able to grab his hands in yours.

You laced your fingers together then roughly pulled him towards you until he collapsed onto your chest. His frame, wider and taller than yours, suddenly crushed you - sending a pain signal to your brain - but you didn't pay attention because you were too happy to have your man back. You were too happy to have him against you again while he also tangled your fingers with his and rested his head under your chin.

You gently kissed the top of his hair.

"You're tired." You resumed calmly. “Sleep, we'll see about it tomorrow.”

And you let yourself be carried peacefully into the arms of Morpheus as soon as the last word left your lips.

When you woke up the next morning, the bed was empty.

You stretch your foot out of your mountain of blankets before building up the courage to get out from between your sheets. Law was already long gone if you stuck to his neatly folded side of the bed. You groaned. Your mind was no longer as fuzzy as it was last night—one of the happy effects of having your blood drawn by him—but it was nevertheless still clouded by the mists of lingering sleep.

You then went into the corridor in search of your grumpy lover.

Even though he was his usual grumpy self, you didn't doubt for a second your ability to make him cuddle you.

You passed a few members of the crew along the way who greeted you happily and, at the end of the way, you finally arrived at the captain's office. You knocked on the door before entering without waiting for his signal.

You found him sitting in his chair behind his desk. He was bent forward with his elbows on the surface while his open hands supported his lowered head. You hesitated for a second before he heard you enter. However, he slowly raised his head to gaze into yours with his steely eyes. From where you stood, you could see the grayish dark circles that stained the underside of his eyes.

"What?" He asked dryly.

You cringed at his tone.

“Wow!” You exclaimed, clearly unsettled. “Bad night, sleeping beauty?”

He growled in response.

“Well, I might as well leave if I piss you off.” You replied, annoyed by his behavior.

"Wait." He hurriedly stopped you while you had your hand on the handle.

Behind you, you heard the crunch of his chair against the floor followed by the sound of his footsteps going around his desk. When he stopped moving, you turned back to him with a suspicious glance.

He was simply standing behind you with his arms limply at his sides. His gaze was slightly shifty, unlike usual, as well as you could see in the nervous movements of his fingers that he wasn't comfortable. Finally, he took a deep breath before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He raised his steely eyes to yours.

“Do you remember about last night?” He asked sharply.

You turned toward him and leaned your back against the door.

"Yes." You replied still annoyed by the start of the conversation. "It makes me high. It doesn't make me so stupid that I forget my evening."

You saw a nervous twitch pass his lips but he did nothing.

"There is a problem with your body." He continued without getting angry despite the fact that he seemed to be seething inside. His nervous movements resumed discreetly. "Your blood isn't like usual and you lit up like a lantern when I scanned you."

You stared at him in silence. You felt accused by his remark. Defensively, you crossed your arms over your chest without even realizing it.

“You must have made a mistake.” You explained.

“I never make a mistake.” He immediately retorted, almost growling.

“And yet you were wrong.” You affirmed.

The air began to crackle with tension around you. Far from avoiding your gaze now, his eyes were firmly planted on yours as he seemed to probe your mind. His face was completely expressionless, if we forget the irritated grin that twisted his lips. His parasitic movements had also completely ceased, leaving behind only his impassive frame which towered over you coldly.

Faced with the situation, which was getting worse, you decided to calm things down.

“Look,” You started, trying to take a softer tone. "you clearly look like a zombie now and you must not have slept all night given your dark circles. There must be a little mess, okay? I'm not sick. I didn't have temperature. I don't hurt anywhere."

You noticed his shoulders unwind and drop as you spoke.

Slowly, you moved from the door before slowly getting closer to him. You approached him as you would with a wild animal. Once in front of him, you raised your hand which you delicately placed against his cold cheek. With the tip of your thumb, you tenderly caressed his cheekbone. You still noticed that, although he didn't lean into the contact, the muscles in his jaw relaxed against your palm.

"I'm fine, Law." You finish smiling.

Then, to your complete astonishment, his hands rested on your hips over the fabric of your t-shirt and pulled you against him. Caught in his embrace, you felt him bend forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. His cold breath hit your collarbone and made you shiver.

However, you raised your arms and wrapped them around his neck to bring him even closer to you. You placed a kiss against his temple at the same time.

"I'm fine, Law." You repeated it to reassure him. "Everything's fine."

From that day on, your relationship with him changed.

Whereas before you both had been quite laid-back and independent, you soon noticed that he appeared in your field of vision a lot more. You had always been this quiet couple who did their activities separately before meeting in the evening to discuss them. But now, he was always in the corner of the room.

You found it quite endearing at first: he was worried about you, unlike some times when he could be quite insensitive.

After so many years living on Earth as a vampire, he had a perception of time quite different from yours which meant that he didn't place as much value on the time spent together. He valued the quality of your time together over its quantity. And it was indeed very pretty on paper but that unfortunately meant that days or even weeks could go by without him giving any sign of life. He would simply show up at the end of the day to naturally ask for some time together—or even just to feed on you—before going back to his studies or his occupations.

It weighed heavily on you at the start of your relationship. You had sometimes wondered if he just saw you as a pleasant way to pass the time or as a simple blood bag. But you knew now that he loved you, after he finally grumpily admitted it after years of dating.

Yet, while you could have sacrificed your entire family at the beginning of your relationship for him to give you this much attention, now it annoyed you.

You saw the doubt in his eyes and it irritated you. He watched you like a babysitter watching over a baby he had to take care of. Or out of fear that you would escape if he looked away for even a second. Except you weren't a child. You were an adult and you would have liked to get this fact into his vampire head.

Besides, he probably must have told the rest of the crew about his paranoid doubts because you also had the impression that they were taking turns keeping an eye on you. When Law was locked in his library or office, they would mysteriously appear one by one at your side.

Bepo asked you to come take a nap with him because he couldn't sleep on his own.

Shachi and Penguin asked you to decide which one of them won after their prank competitions.

Ikkaku asked you to be her partner for a card game since no one else was free to play with her.

The more time passed, the more their attention suffocated you.

Their fear was increased tenfold when, while you were eating dinner together in the Polar Tang refectory, you tried in vain to contain a cough. You had the impression since you woke up that morning that a weight was pressing on your chest while a cat seemed to have taken up residence in your throat. You barely suppressed a groan of annoyance at having coughed at the worst possible time. All the crew's horrified eyes were pointed at you.

“It’s okay,” You tried to justify yourself, laughing. “the water went down the wrong pipe!”

But no one laughs with you.

You heard Law's chair creak precipitously against the floor in the silence of the room and then you felt the icy grip of his fingers between yours. You were immediately lifted from your own chair and he carried you with him down the halls to your room. You tried in vain to explain during the ride but, despite your efforts, he didn't listen.

As soon as your bedroom door closed, he picked you up and threw you onto the bed. He then sat on your lap in a parody of his last meal and pinned you against the mattress to retrieve his sword.

“Come on, Law!” You moan, dissatisfied, for him to stop his cinema.

“Room, scan!” He still whispered seriously above you.

The same shade of blue seeped into your room. Your eyes, however, remained fixed on your lover's and you waited for the moment of realization where they would relax. When he finally saw that you had nothing.

You were okay.

But you looked and all you saw was his eyes widening as a glint that you recognized as fear lit up in his eyes. His mouth opened blissfully in shock, revealing his white teeth with retracted canines that you knew were sharp. His grip loosened around your wrists and he leaned back, stunned, as if he had just been punched in the face.

Faced with this reaction, you felt fear begin to tickle unpleasantly in your stomach. You got up like this, worried, in order to reassure him but the vision you had froze you.

In the mirror that decorated your room behind your lover, you saw your reflections.

The blue light of his Room contrasted harshly with the bright red that spread across your body where all your veins should undoubtedly be. You saw them going in all directions in the smallest corners of your body while giving it a slight reddish tint by proxy. And what mortified you the most was the enormous center of neon red light pulsing from your lungs. They were so clearly visible in the mirror that you had no trouble recognizing the lobes and structures you had seen so many times in Law's scientific journals.

It wasn't possible, you were fine!

You certainly had a little cough a few minutes ago but it was perfectly normal. You lived in a damp and sometimes a little cold submarine that was submerged for more than half the year. You didn't see much sun so your immune system wasn't always at its highest potential. You had caught a cold, that was all.

You turned your confused face towards Law's who was still looking at you in amazement.

"It's just a cold." You tried to soothe him.

"It's not a cold." He countered by recomposing himself. "It's more than that. It's in your blood and it got into your lungs. I don't know what it is, I've read every book I have and I still don't know what it is."

You sighed as you tried to approach him but he moved away from your touch as if you had burned him. Inside, you felt the rejection like a slap in the face.

"It's nothing." You started again anyway. "I just have a little virus or something. I'll be better in a few days."

He glared at you.

"It's not nothing!" He growled now, clearly. "Do you think my Devil Fruit helps me spot birds in the sky? It spots illnesses. Serious illnesses!"

You were going to growl at him for not speaking to you that way, but he cut you off.

"If it's on my scan, it's dangerous. And it's everywhere in your body. In your blood, in your lungs. It's killing you!"

The poorly concealed despair you detected in his tone made you calm down. Even though he was currently annoying you prodigiously, you knew that he really wouldn't get angry in vain. It must have really worried him for him to lose his usual sarcasm and get to this point.

You took a few seconds of silence to let down your irritation.

“Okay,” you continued after calming down. "I understand it could make you panic. It's true that your scan detects anomalies that could be worrying. But it could just be a false alarm, right?"

You saw him take a deep breath.

"Is there anything I could do to reassure you? To prove to you that I'm okay." You asked to appease him.

“Let me replace your lungs.” He announced seriously.

You stood staring at him in disbelief.

"No?" You started in shock. "No! You're not going to replace my lungs for a few doubts!"

"Honestly, it's either this or I turn you into a vampire like me." He explained with a semblance of calm. "It won't change anything for you if I do it with my Ope Ope No Mi. I don't know what molecule is screwing up your body so I can't take it out like that. But I can swap your lungs and try antibiotics and anti-inflammatories to weaken the thing in your blood.”

"No!" You defended yourself, offended.

“Please,” he continued. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you. It's really the only thing that could reassure me. Please."

He looked at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

A heavy silence ruled around you.

“I’m ready to beg you on my knees if necessary.”

You stayed still, shocked by the offer.

“Do you promise nothing will happen to me and that you won’t make a fuss about it again?” You asked him, perplexed.

"I promise."" He affirmed.

You swallowed nervously.

Alright then." You accepted.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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