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fuckyeahdindjarin · 6 months

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V ║Raw Edge

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part IV: Notch | Behind the Seams: Part V | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, a proper E!

Summary: One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.

Warnings: Sexual tension, some language, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, flirting, fingering, explicit grinding, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 2k

Notes: It's been a long and winding road y'all, but I'm finally back with an update on the main series. It is a short one, more of an interlude, but it will get us where we need to go for the next chapter. Thank you for your patience, I don't take you guys' understanding and love for granted for even a second. Releasing this during the Seams sleepover, more drabbles coming your way for the remaining month of March!

Raw edge - the raw, raveling, and unfinished, cut edge of the fabric.

It’s fitting that Joel is a patient man. He’s built for it, after all.

Those broad shoulders, the sturdy thighs, his sure hands - he’s steadfast as the mountains that loom over Jackson.

As the sun shifts over the ridges and valleys of the sierra through the seasons, bringing shadows into light, so does Jackson on Joel, and you learn that he’s many kinds of patient.

On lookout duty, even in the depths of winter, he becomes one with the stillness of the night, patiently watching over the safety of the town in the loneliest hours.

When townsfolk stop him on the high street for neighbourly chit chat, he obliges with polite patience, never rushing, but careful not to encourage conversation that is longer than necessary.

With Ellie, when she prattles on with a long-winded story from school, he listens with amused patience, letting her run her half-full mouth over dinner with half-hearted admonishment.

And with you - he is agonisingly patient with you, and yet, never in a way that leaves any doubt of his want for you.

You cannot be more grateful.

And in turn, you’re patient with him. As the green of summer softens with the tail end of the season, you pick up bits and pieces. You hear whispers of names. Tess. Bill. You glimpse ghosts of his past. Sarah. Frank.

You don’t expect him to, but you have the audacity to hope, that one day, if he finds it in him to let you in, you have shoulders to spare.

When the heat fades and the brisk autumnal chill starts to linger in the morning mist, you start to find that you like it when he’s not patient.

Not necessarily for the lack of patience thereof, but the fact that it’s worn thin by something else.

The way heat bleeds into his eyes when Lucy holds you up after your shift ends, fingers twitching, as if the caveman in him wants to grab you and drag you home, where you have planned on dinner - and more.

When you’re two bodies tangled in your sheets, breath short as he kisses his way down your neck and nips the underside of your breasts, bra cups pushed up only halfway because you’re still too shy to take it off completely. You feel him shudder, nails digging into your skin, nostrils flaring like he’s holding back from ripping the scant fabric off of you.

And late one evening, when you ask him for it, in heated whispers and your lower lip caught in your teeth, he oh so patiently works his fingers inside your wet heat -

One, then two;

Slow, then fast;

Tender, then frantic -

Until he feels you clench tight around the crook of his fingers for the first time, watch you arch clean off the bed, he bares his teeth and lets out a primal growl at the cry of his name on your swollen lips.

You find the thrill in getting under Joel Miller’s skin.

As the fall deepens, and trees start to shed in golden surrender, you’re caught off guard when he turns the table on you.

You don’t see it coming, your desperation, that lazy afternoon. It’s just another Saturday when Ellie is on her shift at the Outfitter with Lucy, and Joel is spending those free hours with you.

You’re not sure what got him into the mood, but the man is relentlessly teasing that afternoon, almost bratty in the way he toys with you. His hands go everywhere while you’re cooking, squeezing the swell of your ass then going north to cup your breasts, and stopping off everywhere in between.

Tips of your ears burning, you smack the back of his hands - so big and mapped with veins - just so you can get drain the pasta. Joel chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth. ‘I like it when you’re bossy, sweetheart.’

He insists on eating on the sofa, with you between his legs, and you can feel him already hard and straining through his jeans. Neither of you really make a real go at the rapidly cooling marinara, and the plates are quickly pushed to the side as them meal degenerates into a full-blown make out session.

Not yet ready to let him strip you bare or for him to disrobe him completely, clothes hang half unbuttoned and unzipped on you both. The part of your brain that still has enough blood to reason likes it though - the demure flashes of skin under creased fabric, blindly touching and feeling where you can’t see.

Your jeans are pushed halfway down your thighs, bra pushed down under your breasts, the elastic straps digging into your shoulders. His shirt is open down to the second last button, bare chest rubbing against your nipples, the contact making you whine. His belt hangs open and his jeans are unzipped, but before you can reach down, his fingers slide inside your panties, twisted and sticky, teasing your wet folds.

‘Joel,’ you whimper as he pushes two thick fingers inside you to the knuckle, your pussy slickly opening around him.

‘Does that feel good, sweetheart?’ he asks, mouthing at your collarbone.

‘More,’ you gasp.

‘I got two in you already -’

Your voice cracks in a sob, your nails digging into his back. ‘Joel, I want more. Please.’

He glances at the clock ticking away on the wall and hesitates. The rational part of him knows that he has to leave in less than twenty minutes to pick up Ellie. But feeling you leak onto his fingers, pushing your hips against him to get his fingers even deeper, his cock twitches painfully hard in his pants.

He breathes through his nose to steady himself. ‘Sweetheart, we don’t have time -‘

‘Joel!’ you whine, almost petulantly.

He stares down at you, eyes wide at your desperation. He’s never seen you like this before, and fuck, he wants to give it to you. Wants to give you what you want, what he wants. What he’s wanted for long fucking months, woken up hard and throbbing dreaming about. But he steels himself - no, not when he’s on the clock, he won’t rush it. He will give you what you deserve, and not an ounce less.

So he kisses you, long and deep, and bargains with you. ‘Listen, sweetheart, we can’t right now - but if you want to, we can try something new.’

‘Ok,’ you reply without hesitation.

A sharp breath catches in your throat when he eases his fingers out of you, and he brings them up to his mouth to lick them clean, his brow furrowing at your taste, thick on his tongue. Then you watch, transfixed, as he pushes his unzipped jeans down with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles - and his hard cock springs free of its confines.

It’s taken you many months to drum up the bravery to map his body with your touch, and you’ve mostly done so in the safety of darkness, your shyness holding you back. To see all of him, jutting hard and thick in the stark afternoon light, you don’t even hear yourself whimper at the sight.

Joel holds your gaze as he slowly wraps his fingers around the swollen length and strokes himself, lips parted, watching you watch him. ‘You trust me, sweetheart?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gonna make you feel good, ok?’

His words make you squirm beneath him. ‘Ok.’

Grabbing the base of his cock, Joel shifts, looming over you and pushing your thighs apart so they’re bent at the knees to accommodate him. Then with a delicate finger, he traces under the seat of your panties and pulls them to one side, baring your spread pussy to his eyes.

Your jaw goes slack the same time Joel bites out a filthy fuck. You know this is the first time he’s laying eyes on you there - you’ve been demure about that, preferring to be nose-to-nose with him while he buries his fingers inside you. But now, watching his eyes go black, nostrils flaring, an inexplicable high goes to your head, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

His eyes fly to yours, and your lips part. Did he see that?

Before you can find out, Joel moves, and you hold your breath when he bows his head right where your legs are splayed open. Distracted by the beautiful chisel of his nose from this angle, you would’ve jumped right off the couch if not for his hands holding you in place when he dribbles spit onto your clit.

You cry out wordlessly, not understanding the visceral reaction of your body to the unexpectedly lewd act.

‘You’re plenty wet for me sweetheart, but this will feel even better,’ he says, spitting again, lower this time, and you tremble at the unfamiliar sensation of the wetness trailing down your folds.

Tracing a thumb over you, Joel makes a low noise of satisfaction in his chest when it glides over your lips, frictionless. Taking a hold of the base of his cock, he positions the underside of his length in the seam of your folds - and thrusts.

‘Joel!’ you whimper as the full length of him glides over the lips of your spit-wet pussy, from entrance to clit. He braces himself over you, and you hang onto his impossibly broad shoulders as he carefully rolls his hips, again and again. Rubbing along you just so, making sure you feel all of him despite not being inside you - that will have to wait.

You can feel your panties getting wetter, sticking to your skin, and Joel jolts a gasp from you when he roughly tugs the fabric hard to the side, baring more of you to his drunken gaze, witnessing the mess he’s making of you.

‘Listen t’ you,’ he slurs through gritted teeth, the lewd, wet slide of skin filling his ears. ‘Gonna sound even sweeter when I make you mine, sweetheart.’

With a whine, you arch off the couch, as if chasing the possessiveness in his words. Joel finds a rhythm that has the swollen head of his cock grinding against your clit with every thrust, and above you, he smears open-mouthed kisses over the secret spots he’s patiently unearthed by trial and error, until you’re shaking all over. It’s just what you needed, what you wanted - the elusive more that you didn’t know how to articulate. More than his fingers, but not yet ready to take everything that he can give you.

‘You’re close,’ Joel says, a quiet confidence to his verdict that coaxes a whine out of you. Holding a thumb over his cock, it presses even harder against your clit. His hips quicken in pace, and you know he’s chasing his own release as much as yours.

‘It’s ok sweetheart, you can let go, let me feel you cum for me, let me feel that pretty pussy -’

And then you’re gone. Any illusion of control over your body is just that, an illusion, when the bubble bursts. White hot pleasure burns through your bloodstream, tendrils of heat blooming and swelling from deep inside you, spilling out your fingertips twisted tightly into his graying curls.

Over the rush of blood in your ears, you hear Joel stutter fuck, fuck, fuck! before warm cum gushes over you, pooling in your belly button, spilling down your pussy and streaking your thighs.

Limbs heavy and eyelids drooping, it’s hard to care when the cum stains your panties or the couch below. Not when Joel wraps his arms around you, lips brushing the nape of your neck softly as he brackets you from behind.

Clinging onto the last vestiges of consciousness, you murmur, ‘You have to pick up Ellie soon.’

He grunts. ‘The little punk can wait.’

You smile, struggling to feel apologetic that the teenager might be waiting a while as Joel’s breathing slows, whistling softly by your ear.

In the quiet aftermath, his words echo in your head.

When I make you mine.

Little does he know, he doesn’t have to - you’re already his.

Notes: Time has really flown by since the last main series update. I've gone through so many ups and downs since, and I really need to thank you guys for giving me the time to figure things out in terms of my writing and how this story will go!

As I mentioned in Behind the Seams: Part V, I have 2 more full length chapters planned for the main series. I don't know if there will be any more after that, but at the very least, I hope that I will be adding to the Seams universe through drabbles and oneshots. I wouldn't write off the possibility of more chapters to add to the main series if I find the inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #seams v #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine

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sardonic-the-writer · 8 months

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𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mentions of cannibalism and porn

↳ song: hit the road jack—ray charles

↳ notes: i can't believe i'm posting this (derogatory)

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• You had decided to move into the hotel after a particularly flashy poster caught your eye

• You were just walking to your run down apartment from a shift at your work, messing with the frayed ends of your sleeves, when a burst of neon red and yellow entered your field vision

• It was a poorly drawn advertisement colored head to toe in bright hues and glitter, advertising a hotel that would offer you a shot of getting out of hell

• With a shrug and a tug of the poster, you slipped it off the brick wall and into your pocket

• It’s not like you had anything else going on, and a free room was a free room. Besides; if the redemption thing turned out to be real, that would just be an added bonus

• Upon arriving at the doorstep of the hotel a few days later with a duffel bag in hand and the other rapping against the front door, you were nearly knocked over by a thin demon with red cheeks excitedly asking if you were there to check in

• “Oh my gosh hi! How are you! Because you look amazing and oh my gosh I’m so happy you’ve decided to check in!” She all but shouted in your ear. Cringing slightly, you leaned away from her embrace to slip inside

• “I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of guests?” You asked slowly as she closed the door behind you, some nearby dust stirring up at the action. The inside looked to empty to be a hotel

• “Nope!”

• Your first sign that you were getting more than you had bargained for should have been the sound of scuttling feet as a small demon made her way across your feet to impale a bug on her claws. She was lightly scolded for ‘accidently frightening our new addition’ before running off with the insect

• "Sorry about that! Nifty is really passionate about her job." The demon next to you laughed nervously. You just shifted your weight and nodded awkwardly in response

• Looking a few feet over to the living area, there was a lanky fellow covered in fuzz and lounging on a sad looking couch. He was flicking through channels on a T.V. You caught them occasionally landing on one and laughing before moving on, never staying entertained for too long

• The demon caught your eye, and waved two of his four hands at you in a lazy greeting

• “Oh, that’s Angel Dust! Our other resident." The woman, you now knew as Charlie, fussed. “He’s been with us for a few months, and has shown incredible progress! Something I’m sure you will find yourself doing!” She bounced on the balls of her feet happily while steering you around by the shoulders

• “Uh huh.” You couldn’t help but nod slowly, only now noticing that the channels Angel had been focusing on were blasting various types of porn shows

• A hasty tour was promptly carried out through the rest of the building. You were shown different rooms, all in various states of decay, while simultaneously meeting the other hotel inhabitants

• A fierce lady with a spear— Vaggie, as she had been introduced as —didn’t seem too up for conversation, only giving Charlie a peck on the cheek and you a suspicious glare before climbing a pair of stairs to take care of something else

• Back downstairs, the local bartender didn’t even bother to look at you, instead mumbling something under his breath while playing cards with a snake like demon

• “Don’t take it to heart. Husk is a big sweetheart, really.” Charlie waved at you with a closed eye smile, missing the way that Husk flipped her off grumpily. “And that’s Sir Pentious over there! Besides Angel Dust, and now you I guess, he’s our only guest.”

• The snake simply offered a loud and hissing hello before demanding with theatrical outrage that Husk was cheating. At least you think it was theatrical outrage. He seemed high strung either way

• But by far, the most memorable staff member you met on the tour was a tall demon with a red suit and fluffy ears; the likes of which you and Charlie had barged in on as he ate a plate of what looked like flesh. Whether animal, or something else, you couldn’t tell

• “Finally, this is our facility manager, Alastor! He helps out with all kinds of things here, and will be a key element in your redeeming process.” Your cheery guide announced. She seemed to ignore the slight tension in the air as the other member in the room smiled tightly, but the feeling disappeared as the tall demon stood up in greeting

• “Why Charlie!” Alastor’s voice crackled with heavy static, reminding you of audio from a gramophone. Or perhaps one of those old fashioned radio’s. “If I knew we were having company, I would have made myself more presentable!” He chuckled without ever looking anywhere but you

• You had to tilt your head up to look at him completely. There wasn’t a wrinkle on his suit, and every one of his hairs sat perfectly on his head. Even his monocle appeared to be freshly polished

• “Presentable.” You said slowly and without emotion, aware of Alastor’s highetened gaze on you. “Right.”

• Charlie was quick to get you to your new room after that

• It was weird, trying to fall into a rhythm with a group of people that had already become so aquatinted with one another, but you managed

• The trust exercises were cheesy and took too long, chores were a daily task for everyone, and Alastor snuck around in the shadows too much for your liking, but at least you had a place to live

• Besides. Who was to say you couldn’t make a few friends along the way?

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struwberrii · 2 months

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boyfriend! sakusa who isnt super big on physical touch, but always shows how much he cares with the little things he does, like holding doors for you and carrying your bags.

boyfriend! sakusa who doesn’t love physical touch, but still takes every opportunity he can to kiss you

boyfriend! sakusa who immediately comes to you when he’s in a bad mood and needs to talk shit about someone

you were relaxing on your couch when suddenly you heard a harsh knock on your door. you panicked thinking it could be the police, but upon further investigation (looking through the peep hole) you discovered it was just a very irritated sakusa. you opened the door and almost immediately he pushed past you and b-lined for your spot on the sofa

“you won’t believe what that idiot atsumu did today, i swear his stupidity may just drive me mad!”. he practically growled. you could already tell this was gonna be a long rant so you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and got comfortable next to him before he started.

boyfriend! sakusa who only allows you to enter his bedroom and has a blanket and pillow saved for only you (he regularly washes when he knows you’re coming over)

boyfriend! sakusa who leaves a get well soon basket at your doorstep and facetimes you for hours at a time when you get sick

boyfriend! sakusa who always surprises you with designer jewelry and shoes, not for any reason other than him wanting to see you wear it.

boyfriend! sakusa who likes going out with you at the most random times, just to avoid huge crowds (if he wasn’t with you he wouldn’t be making an effort to go out at all if possible)

never in your life did you think you’d be getting ready for a dinner date at 8:30 pm on a tuesday. your boyfriend was on his way to pick you up, he made reservations for the two of you at a nice restaurant with a beautiful view. you were slightly annoyed with the time and date since you had work/school the next morning but just seeing sakusa instantly lifted any negative emotions you had about the situation. you opened the door to see him in a white polo shirt, black pants, a luxury belt on and a fancy silver watch on his wrist. you were practically drooling. the two of you walked to his car and made your way to the restaurant.

“i forgot to say this earlier, but you look absolutely stunning tonight” he said calmly, keeping his eyes on the road. you laughed and returned the compliment.

“by the way, why’d you choose a monday to take me out, kiyoomi?”

“i really do hate crowds, y’know?”

boyfriend! sakusa who has the funkiest music taste and always leaves you confused when his playlists go from the doors band to aphex twin to chase atlantic

boyfriend! sakusa who doesn’t mind your germs getting on him

(he still makes you shower before you get in his bed)

boyfriend! sakusa who sleeps best when you’re lying on top of him under his blanket with his arms wrapped around you

boyfriend! sakusa who made a hand signal that only you and him know, that he uses when he wants to get out of any situation and sneak off with you

you were at one of sakusas games, you always arrived earlier with him since people wanted interviews with him and to take videos for tv, so you would usually just sneak around back and wait for him, but sometimes interviewers caught up to you and would sneak a few questions in with you. this time you and sakusa were both in the lobby of the dome he was scheduled to play in.

“do you know how long sakusas been training for this match?”

“has sakusa shared the secret behind his flexible wrists with you!?”

“are you only with sakusa because of his fame?”

you were being asked so many questions you could hardly even get one answer out, you looked over at your boyfriend to see what he was up to, and that’s when he gave you the signal, low enough for nobody else to catch it. then he made up some partially believable excuse and left the interviewers. quickly after you made up a slightly less believable excuse and followed pretty far behind him. you weren’t exactly sure where he went, there was way too many doors down the hall he took so you just walked in hopes of finding an open one.

that’s when you suddenly felt a strong arm wrap around you and pull you into one of the lounge rooms, followed by an attack of kisses to your face.

“i play so much better when we get to do this”

boyfriend! sakusa who lets you do hair care and skincare on him, and is surprisingly educated on skincare and which products/ingredients work best for different types of skin problems.

boyfriend! sakusa who let’s you count all the freckles/moles on his body and trace them with your fingers

boyfriend! sakusa who wakes you up every morning you’re together by the smell of him brewing your coffee and making breakfast for you

you woke up in sakusas bed earlier than usual. it was 8:25 am on a saturday, you had no reason to be awake this early. but something smelled so good, you couldn’t go back to bed after your nostrils had been blessed by such a scent. you grabbed one of sakusas sweaters and made your way to his kitchen. there he was in nothing but his boxers, cooking pancakes over the stove. the morning sun hitting his back at just the right angle to make all his muscles really pop out at you.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you so early love”. he says after hearing you come out of his room.

“it’s all good, just what is that heavenly smell?” you joked, sitting on one of the stools at his kitchen island, watching him finish up cooking. he turned around and slid a plate of pancakes infront of you. he even drew a little smiley face out with all your favorite fruits and whipped cream. then he handed you a cup of hot coffee, just the way you like it.

“what did i ever do to deserve you” you said as you smiled at your boyfriend.

boyfriend! sakusa whos love language is acts of service

boyfriend! sakusa who takes your makeup off for you, does your skincare for you and tucks you into bed when you’ve had a bad day

boyfriend! sakusa who always reminds you to do the little things, like washing your hands when you get home from being out, or drinking water

boyfriend! sakusa who’s trying his best for you

(sorry guys this may be a teeny bit ooc but i love him idc)

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andvys · 4 months

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter nineteen ⭐︎ For you, I would ruin myself, a million little times

Warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of loss, insecurities, allusions to depression, mentions of cheating (jancy), sad memories, fluff at the end (with Steve, yes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You take a painful road down memory lane and it makes you question everything.

Word count: 10.4k+

⭐︎ as always a special shoutout to @hellfire--cult thanks for plotting and writing with me hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

“Are you ready to tell me or not?”

You look up from your plate, still chewing on the pasta that Eddie had cooked, you put down the fork and reach for your pepsi as you look at Max who stares at you with a tilted head, a knowing smile resting on her face.

You shake your head and furrow your brows at the girl, glancing at Eddie who looks just as confused as you do.

“Tell you what?”

Max picks up her garlic bread and shrugs, “about you and Steve and how you’ve been sneaking around behind everyone’s backs,” she says nonchalantly before she takes a bite.

You nearly choke on your drink, eyes growing wide, matching the ones of Eddie who seems to be just as surprised as you are, he even stopped eating.

You blink, trying to process her words.

“W-What?” Is all that you can say as you stare at the redhead, like a deer caught in headlights and with a pounding heart.

“You know, at first I thought Lucas was crazy for teasing Steve about you and making all those comments about how perfect you two are for each other, especially because Steve always seemed just as annoyed with you as you with him but then he suddenly had different reactions whenever Lucas said something about you and I noticed how red his cheeks got every time he looked at you all lovey dovey,” she holds her finger up, eyes growing wide as she pointing at you to stay quiet, “and then… and then! You both started disappearing at the same time and started whispering to each other, sitting next to each other when it’s something you wouldn’t have done before, not to mention the secret hand holding,” Max laughs, shaking her head at you.

Your eyes widen at her ‘lovey dovey’ comment, hope that has been rising in you more and more, burning warmly in your chest but Steve doesn’t look at you that way, does he?

Eddie stares at her, feeling impressed by her observations.

Just like him, you feel impressed too, shocked and a little nervous but not scared the way you would feel if it were anyone else but her. She can keep a secret and she is like a sister to you – and unfortunately, sisters always know everything and uncover secrets without a struggle.

“I don’t know how the others haven’t figured it out yet, you two are so obvious,” she snorts, picking up her fork again, she stabs her pasta onto it, “just as obvious as my mom and your uncle,” she says to Eddie who shrugs and nods in agreement, “I mean… does anyone actually believe that he’s fixing our fence? The fence is fine! … They go to Enzo’s like every Friday night, by the way.”

Eddie chuckles and takes a bite of his food, “it’s only a matter of time until you and your mom move in with us.”

You expect Max to roll her eyes at him but instead she smirks, “yeah, hope you’re ready to become my personal driver.”

“Am I not your personal driver already?” Eddie snorts. “I mean, you even got two personal drivers, didn’t you both go shopping this morning?” He asks, pointing between you.

“Yes we did, and we were very successful,” Max nods.

You aren’t surprised about Susan and Wayne, they’re truly very obvious and now you can’t help but wonder if you and Steve are the same, with the exception that you two aren’t dating… sadly.

Max looks away from Eddie, returning her gaze back to you, “so when were you gonna tell me that you and Steve are a couple?”

Eddie coughs, glancing at you sideways as he grimaces when he sees your falling expression.

“They’re not a couple,” Eddie says for you, noticing the way your eyes sadden and your lips curl downwards at his words.

Max furrows her brows, tilting her head at you and giving Eddie a look of confusion.

“What–”

“Yeah, Steve and I are not… dating.”

The past few weeks have felt like it though, it felt like there was something more between you and him, and after finding out that you have been the only girl for him these past few months, it started feeling even more like it.

Max stares at you now, eyebrows pulling up and eyes flashing with even more confusion, “but… huh?”

“They’re just having… uh… fun, Red,” Eddie chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back in his seat, “you know… adult fun.”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words, just the way she does before she gives him a deadpan look.

“I’m not five, Eddie! I know what they’re doing but that makes no sense!”

“What doesn’t make sense?” You ask and reach for your drink again.

She looks down bewildered, dropping her fork and waving with her hands as she points at you, “Billy had fun and you know how much fun he had!”

You chuckle and nod.

“But he never held hands with those girls or looked at them like… like he was in love or something! He had fun and then he moved on to… the next… fun. It’s different with you and Steve though!”

A sigh falls from your lips and your shoulders slump as you lean back.

Yeah, of course it’s different with you and Steve, the difference between Billy’s fun and your fun is that he never loved any of the girls he had been with, you on the other hand, are sickly and madly in love with the guy you are having ‘fun’ with and you are pretty certain that Steve doesn’t feel the same, no matter what anyone says.

Eddie glances at you, waiting for you to say something, to tell her the truth because he knows you will, you don’t seem to feel the need to hide from Max, knowing she won’t run off to her friends and tell them all about it and risking it reaching Steve, Max isn’t like that, especially not when it comes to you.

“It’s not, Max…” You sigh, looking down at your hands.

She raises her eyebrows again, squinting her eyes at you.

“So… you’re saying it’s actually just fun?” She asks like she almost wants to chuckle in amusement.

You sigh again and raise your head again, rolling your eyes, “well… yeah… no, I– fuck… no, no it’s not just fun… not for me.”

Eddie looks at you sadly, sighing too.

“And Steve?”

You shrug, despite the hope in you, you don’t know what he feels, if he even feels anything for you.

“It’s just… fun… for him?” You mumble, flinching at your own words.

“Uh… is it?” Max mumbles, not looking or sounding convinced.

“It’s what he said,” Eddie shrugs, rolling his eyes when he thinks back to the night he confronted you both, “and he seemed pretty set on it, he said it just that and nothing more when I found out about it.”

“Mhm.” You nod, hiding your face as you tilt your head down again, not wanting to show more feelings than necessary. “Can we talk about something else now, please?”

Eddie nods, “sure–”

“No,” Max shakes her head, “I wanna talk about this!”

“My relationship with Steve isn’t appropriate to discuss with a teenager–”

“Oh, so there is a relationship,” Max interrupts you, giving you a smug smirk.

“No, there isn’t, you know what I mean!”

She chuckles and crosses her arms over her chest, continuing to stare at you.

“So… Do you love him then?”

Your eyeroll is enough of an answer to that question.

“I knew it,” she murmurs under her breath, “and what about him, you think he doesn’t feel the same?” She asks, thinking that her own question sounds absurd, she saw the way Steve looked at you, multiple times already.

“I know he doesn’t,” you shrug.

“Why not?”

“Because he hated me, Max–”

“Yeah, he obviously hated you so so much, that’s why you’re holding hands now and kissing every time you think no one’s watching! I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t hold hands and kiss my enemy… oh! Or look at them with lovesick smiles and everything!”

You sigh again, tilting your head back as you look up at the ceiling.

This isn’t good for you, it really isn’t, you don’t need to be fed with more delusions.

“I think he feels the same, it’s pretty clear!”

“If it’s so clear then why isn’t it being talked about?” Eddie retorts, not feeling convinced of Max’s words, “why didn’t he say anything to change their relationship yet? I mean, he had no issue talking to his ex-girlfriend about his feelings for her when he knew she was with someone else! Oh and by the way, Nancy cheated on him and left him for someone else and he still confessed his feelings for her again… years later, he knew he would look like an absolute fool – which he did but that didn’t stop him! So what should stop him now, hm? He’s got nothing to lose with her!” Eddie points at you, “she never hurt him, she has no one else that he has to compete against, she fucking loves him! So him confessing his feelings for her wouldn’t ruin anything like it would have with Nancy or Jonathan if they reacted badly to his stupid confession!”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, ignoring the stinging in your heart.

You knew all about his love confession to Nancy – their conversation in the RV was only the first step towards it. You remember the jealousy you felt when he told her about his dream, about the kids and the future he always wished for, you knew who he saw by his side when he talked about it all. To find out that he confessed his love to her in the Upside Down made you feel even worse, especially when you were still recovering from all your injuries. Robin rambled away about it and told you every detail, you didn’t even ask for.

Eddie’s words make your heart ache yet again, you know he is right, but they kill your hope a little and you are holding onto it so tightly.

Max, on the other hand, refuses to agree with him, she squints her eyes at him, leaning closer to the table, “maybe he is scared, Eddie? Have you thought of that? I mean, the whole thing with Nancy was… a heat of the moment kind of thing, there was literally nothing between them but there is something between them!” She argues, pointing at you.

“I have thought about it,” Eddie nods, “but if I feel like I might lose someone I love for not saying anything to them, I damn right would do something!”

“I love him, Eddie,” you mumble, your cheeks heating up at your vulnerable confession in front of Max, “but I never plan on telling him how I feel, so…”

Max groans at your words and rolls her eyes, “two idiots, I swear to god, I bet Steve is feeling and saying the same shit to whoever else knows.”

“Robin,” Eddie nods at her.

Robin, yeah.

Robin who is suddenly not as fond of you as she was before, rolling her eyes and scoffing at you every chance she gets, irritating you a little more every time you’re around her now. You considered her a close friend before she suddenly turned on you and started acting weirdly towards you. You don’t know what her deal is but you suspect that she minds your presence around her best friend, fearing that you might ‘steal’ him from her because he is spending less time with her and more with you – as though she wasn’t the first to ditch him to be with Vickie.

“Great!” Max shrugs, “then why don’t you talk to her, try to get information out of her… since you two are accomplices?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head quickly, turning to Eddie in panic, “please don’t! Don’t talk to Robin, Eddie! She’s gonna tell Steve and if he doesn’t feel the same then…”

Eddie shakes his head at you, not needing you to finish the sentence. He reaches his hand out to you and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, “I won’t, don’t worry,” he sighs, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes. He knows how deep your feelings are for Steve, how much you love him and how long you have loved him for already and now that you somewhat have him, you try to do everything to keep him, even when you are breaking your own heart in the process.

He isn’t fond of this affair because he has an idea of how it will end and he fears that day, knowing what it will do to you but he can’t do anything to change it, he can’t save you from heartbreak, knowing it will happen sooner or later.

You slump back in your seat, feeling pathetic for feeling this way, for holding on so desperately when there is only a small chance that there might be something and even that chance isn’t enough for you to go and find out the truth, not even when hope lingers in you after all the sweet moments you had with him.

Max looks at you in a way her brother once did, when he found out the truth and realized just how deep your feelings were, back then already.

You remember how the look in his eyes went from shock to confusion to sadness and sympathy.

And you remember how awkward and embarrassed you had felt that night.

It was raining outside, the windows were fogged and the smell of sex lingered in the room, you never knew what people meant by it when they mentioned that smell until that night. Your forehead was coated with sweat, your cheeks were glowing and feeling hot, your skin smelled like him, like his cologne and his aftershave, and your body felt different, not in a bad way, just in a foreign one.

You held the sheets tightly against your chest and looked out the window, watching as the rain paddled down the glass, a smile tugged at your lips and your chest wasn’t filled with sadness for once.

“Hey,” Billy said and pulled your attention back to him, “give me a smile.”

You turned your head to look at him, a giggle fell from your lips when you noticed the polaroid camera in his hands, his eyes were squinted and a smirk lingered on his face.

“Seriously?”

He took a picture of you before you reached forward and swatted the camera out of your face.

Billy leaned back from you and held the camera away so you couldn’t reach it, he laughed at the bashful expression on your face.

“Need a picture of your special first time,” he joked and laughed again when you rolled your eyes at him and blushed.

He took the picture out and started shaking it for reveal. He leaned back against your pillows and reached for his beer, drinking it while staring at you.

“Well, we are not doing that again,” he said and you knew that it would’ve offended many other girls, but not you, because you felt the same.

“Yeah, it didn’t feel right, did it?” You scrunched your nose.

“Not at all,” Billy laughed before his face grew serious as his eyes roamed your face, “do you feel alright?” He asked in concern because he noticed how distant you looked, like your mind was somewhere else or with someone else.

He straightened up and furrowed his brows at you, “who are you thinking about?”

You felt caught and you felt ashamed.

You never admitted your feelings for Steve to anyone, they didn’t even make sense so how could you even begin to describe them?

You looked down and closed your eyes, you pulled your brows together as though in pain and it only made him more curious.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?” Billy asked and dropped the polaroid camera and the picture on the mattress beside him. He placed the beer back on the nightstand and grabbed his pack of cigarettes instead, “is he ugly?”

His question made you snort, you opened your eyes again and looked at his serious face.

“No, he is not ugly, not in the slightest.”

His lips curled downwards for a moment as he nodded, “do I know him?” He asked before he placed a cigarette between his lips.

You only gave him a look and that was enough to confirm his question.

He hummed and kept staring at you with a curious look on his face, he lit up his cigarette and threw the lighter on the nightstand, taking a long drag before he blew the smoke out.

“I do, huh?” He chuckled and squinted his eyes at you, “are you gonna tell me or are you gonna let me guess?”

You smirked and shrugged at him, you held the blanket tighter against your chest and reached for the camera beside him, “guess, Billy,” you teased him as though your heart didn’t start pounding from all the nervousness inside of you.

“Jesus,” he sighed in annoyance, “is he popular or a loser?”

You shrugged and squinted your eye as you brought the camera up to your face and wasted no second to take a picture of him too, he didn’t seem to mind, not like you did.

He started saying names, random names of guys you weren’t even sure went to Hawkins High. You kept shaking your head and saying no, you felt surprised that Steve’s name hadn't left his lips yet.

“Huh, it’s not the drug dealer is it? What’s his name again?”

“Uh… You mean Eddie?”

He nodded and pointed his finger at you, “yeah, him.”

You shook your head, “no, he’s cute but no, he’s not really my type,” you mumbled and sighed, “probably would’ve been better if it was someone like him, he’s nice, at least.”

He hummed and stared at you, he fell quiet for a while and his face grew serious after a few minutes, then his eyes widened and he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck… girl, please don’t tell me that it’s King Steve.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your face started burning beneath his gaze, you couldn’t stand to look into his eyes any longer so you broke eye contact and looked down at your hands in your covered lap.

“Shit…” He sighed and slumped back, looking at you in disbelief, like you had fallen in love with his arch nemesis.

“I know,” you mumbled in annoyance because you knew what he was about to say, “you don’t have to tell me how stupid I am, I already know that.”

Billy stayed quiet for a moment and stared at the pained expression on your face. Yeah, he was about to say something stupid about Steve, about his stupid hair and your feelings for him but when he looked closer – and he knew you pretty well at that point, he could see just how much pain lingered behind your eyes, how glassy they got and how your bottom lip wobbled just the slightest bit.

He was never the best with words and he certainly was never someone to give comfort, he didn’t even know how to, no one ever comforted him, only you did.

He bit his tongue and swallowed the bitter words that were about to leave his lips.

He opened his mouth but shut it again when he saw you wiping away a tear.

Billy sighed and ran a hand through his mullet, he pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his eyes at the thought of the jock.

“It’s pretty serious isn’t it?”

You only nodded and said nothing.

“So… you’re like in love with him or some shit?”

“I guess so,” you whispered even though you knew for certain. “Feels like it’s tearing my heart apart or something every time I see him, every time he says something dumb to me.”

“How…?” He asked and sighed again, “shit, I knew you liked him, you wouldn’t have defended him every chance you got but I thought you were just being nice to that fucker… Jesus…”

You shook your head again and slowly looked up at your best friend, “I can’t give you an answer, Billy. I don’t know how it happened, it just… happened. That’s gonna sound so cheesy but… when I first saw him I just… I felt safe and comfortable… happy. He smiled at me when he passed me in the hallway and I just – I don’t know, I can’t explain this feeling and it doesn’t matter anyways, he turned out to be a dick who hates my guts so… I’ll get over these feelings someday.”

Billy didn’t believe your words and you didn’t either.

You have loved him at first sight and that never changed or lessened, your feelings kept getting worse and worse and it made no sense because he kept treating you badly.

You were infatuated with him, bewitched.

You expected Billy to judge you but he didn’t, you thought he would say bad things about Steve but he never did, at least not when it came to you and your feelings for him.

If anything, Billy encouraged you to act on your feelings, to get closer to him, to make a move and try.

And you did, but it only made everything worse.

And now, you stare at his sister and watch as she tries to do the same.

It went sideways the first time and you fear that it won’t go any different this time – yes, things have changed, you and Steve are something now, something you would have never seen coming a year before, especially after what happened when you did try to make a move on him. You just can not find it in yourself to even try, to gather all your confidence and use the sliver of hope to confess to him in hopes that he could feel the same, that you could be something more than what you are now.

You can feel that things have shifted into a different direction, the softness in his eyes, his gentle touches and acts of affection are proof of that and still, you fear rejection and losing this because this thing between you is just too fragile, too easy to break and ruin.

It’s not long ago that Steve couldn’t even bare to look at you without rolling his eyes or scoffing some cold words at you and you try not to think of them, to leave things in the past, to not go over his hurtful words again and again but something inside of you seems to manifest all the saddening and painful words your poor heart was attacked with in the past and you can’t fight off those memories, you try to but you can’t and it saddens you even more because the past few weeks with Steve, have been nothing but heavenly to you.

You woke up in his arms every morning, he held you through the night, woke you with kisses and cooked you breakfast, he held your hand and treated you as if you were his, like you were his girlfriend and he your boyfriend – you got a taste of something you always craved and longed for and that should bring you peace, it really should but he is showing you, giving you something that you know he will take away again when the time comes.

When you step into your house after dropping Max off at El’s, you make your way up to your bedroom and open your closet, looking for something comfortable to change into, when the navy blue color flashes in your peripheral vision. You grab a pair of your sleeping shorts and a random shirt of Steve’s, trying to ignore the dress that practically stares at you, forcing you to recall one of your worst memories.

You clutch your clean clothes to your chest and take a look at the pretty sundress you bought at the GAP store when Starcourt mall was still intact. You reach out to touch it, pinching the thin material between your thumb and your pointer finger, a sad smile tugs at your lip when you think back to the day you bought it – just to look pretty for him.

Your best friend kept encouraging you, filling you with hope that you could have a chance with Steve, that he wouldn’t say no to you if you tried to make a move, if you tried to ask him out, if you went after your feelings. Week after week had passed and Billy forced confidence onto you and pushed you towards a guy he didn’t even like.

You kept denying his words, you knew you had no chance with him, not even after you graduated from high school, not even after Steve had changed and his mean words became less harsh.

And yet, a part of you listened to Billy, that naive and hopeful part of you that really wanted her crush to like her back and give her the chance she always wanted.

You bought a pretty dress, you got your hair done and did your makeup, lighter and girlier than usual, you put on your favorite perfume and jewelry and you decided to give it a try – you shouldn’t have, you should’ve listened to your brain and not your heart.

The mall was bustling with people, kids were running around the water fountain, a group of young girls rushed past you, giggling in excitement as they carried their many shopping bags, you were standing in front of Scoops Ahoy, with your cheeks burning and your heart racing.

In all honesty, you had no idea what you were doing, you came up with no plan before you came here, you just woke up that morning and decided that Billy was right, that you could take a chance and go after what you wanted – you had nothing to lose, except for your dignity. Besides, you were no longer in school, if things went wrong, you could easily avoid him.

You had taken a look inside, only a few teenagers sat by the window, it wasn’t crowded, not in the slightest. You saw him, he was standing behind the counter with his back turned to you as he was talking to his co-worker who spoke to him through the small window between them.

Your heart skipped a beat when he turned to the side, a smile lingered on his face as he nodded along to the music that played on the radio.

You could have still turned back, you could have still left without being seen, without having made a fool of yourself. But you didn’t, you didn’t turn around, you didn’t change your mind, you walked into your own demise.

You took a deep breath and walked up to the counter, you twisted the ring on your finger and focused on him. He looked so good, even in his silly uniform, he looked so pretty. His sailor hat was laying on the counter and he was twisting the ice cream scooper in his hand, he only turned around when his co-worker, Robin, nudged her chin at you before she turned her back to him and disappeared further into the room.

You blinked and breathed heavily as you realized that you didn’t even know what to say, you didn’t prepare for this, you were never good with words or conversing with boys, you didn’t know how to flirt – well, you did, Billy taught you, but you had never used your newly learned skill before.

And when Steve turned around to face, it was too late to think of what to say, anyways.

“Ahoy–” his cheerful words cut short and the smile on his face fell when he saw you, “oh, it’s you.”

That should have been enough to change your mind, to make you turn back and run the other way.

“Hi Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and he slid his scooper back into place, he put his hands on the counter and sighed.

“Blondie,” he nodded.

You were too nervous to see the way he looked at you, the way his eyes roamed your face and your styled hair, your glowing skin and your pretty dress, the way his cheeks changed color as he kept staring at you.

“What can I get for you?” He asked and cleared his throat as he gestured to the many ice cream flavors.

You shifted and tilted your head to the side, your hair fell from your shoulder and down your back. He looked again, at your exposed skin, at the dainty chain around your neck.

“I uh… I’m… I don’t know yet,” you stuttered and felt yourself growing more nervous than before.

Steve sighed and looked away from you, “of course,” he murmured under his breath.

Your cheeks burned hotly, your eyes felt heavy and you looked down as you already felt the regret rushing through your body. You wanted to say something, anything, but all your words were caught in your throat, everything you would’ve said if he liked you a little more were stuck and frozen.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, you looked at his face and wondered why you even let Billy encourage you and talk you into doing this. The few ‘nice’ interactions you had with Steve meant nothing. The smile he wore on his lips before could never be directed at you, the soft look in his hazel eyes disappeared the moment he saw you, the tone in his voice changed in an instant.

“How are you…?” You asked, cringing at yourself, at the question, at the shakiness in your voice.

He looked back at you and raised his eyebrows, an unamused chuckle fell from his lips.

“What do you want?” He asked and shrugged at you, “we’re out of high school, we don’t have to see each other anymore and I know you’re not here for ice cream, you usually don’t have an issue making a decision, so why are you here, Blondie?”

You could not help but draw back as a cold shudder ran down your spine, you blinked and looked down.

You missed the look of guilt that flashed in his eyes when he watched you step back and you closed your eyes for a moment, your brows scrunched together as though in pain.

He was always this way, you knew what you were stepping into, you knew how he would react and you couldn’t blame him, you weren’t exactly nice to him in school and snapped back at him every time he threw a rude comment at you.

You swallowed and took a deep breath, you looked back up at him, at the hazel eyes you always loved so much.

Steve huffed and he took a deep breath, he stared at you intensely and you didn’t know what it meant, a part of you thought that it was his hatred, the other was foolishly hopeful.

“Yeah… I know but I just… I thought that maybe we could,” you paused as your heart felt as though it was about to tear from your chest any moment. He looked at you so intensely, he made you feel so small beneath his gaze.

“We could what?” He asked a little too harshly and made you cower back.

“This was a bad idea,” you whispered to yourself and took another step back, “I’m sorry I just…”

“What’s up with you?” Steve mumbled and furrowed his brows at you, confused at the side of you he never met before. “Did you miss being annoying so much that you had to come bother me at work, Blondie?”

You heard the teasing in his voice, you saw the sliver of amusement in his eyes but you really only focused on the way your heart clenched in pain and how regret took on full control.

You rolled your eyes, not at him but at yourself, at your foolishness.

Of course he doesn’t want to see you, why would he?

He never liked you and he certainly wouldn’t start now, he would probably laugh into your face if you asked for what you came for – a date.

Your cheeks were nearly hurting from all the blushing, your heart was skipping and pounding, your hands felt clammy. You never felt the need to cry in front of him, you never felt vulnerable around him because your walls were always high up and guarded by a second layer, now you came without protection and decided to let yourself be vulnerable for once, only to feel like breaking down from the embarrassment that was gnawing at you.

“Cat got your tongue? That’s new…” He chuckled and stared you down still, eyebrows still furrowed and lips pursed. His hardened expression fell a little and something else took over, something you couldn’t read. “Did someone stand you up?”

Steve wasn’t used to your silence so you weren’t surprised about the confusion on his face. You looked at him again and caught him eyeing you up and down, his eyes lingered on your dress for longer than necessary.

His question went unanswered and he grew frustrated with you.

“Can’t blame them if they did,” he mumbled, throwing daggers at your heart.

That stung.

Normally his words would’ve angered you and you would’ve shot back straight away, despite your feelings for him, you wouldn’t have kept quiet or struggled to say something back but not today, today you let him hurt you – deep down you knew this would happen, this was always how you interacted, he said something mean and then you would too. His words were nothing new and yet they cut deep.

You swallowed hard and dug your nails into your palms, your breathing quickened and you knew you had to get out of here but something kept you standing, you felt as though you were frozen.

Steve coughed awkwardly and looked away for a moment, he grabbed his scooper again, “so… wanna eat your feelings or what?” He asked and pointed at the many flavors, eyes back on you.

“No–”

“Hi, Steve!”

You nearly flinched at the high pitched voice and had to hold back the eyeroll when you saw the girl next to you, who didn’t bother to hide the dirty looks she gave you before she returned her attention back to him, flashing him a sickly sweet smile that made his eyes light up.

The girl used to be on the cheer team, very popular and gossipy, unkind and one of the most unpleasant people you have met – and she usually spends her Saturday nights in Billy’s sheets.

Steve’s eyes were no longer on you, instead they were stuck on the pretty girl beside you, he eyed her up and down, not with distaste or annoyance but with interest and a smirk on his lips.

“Hey, how are you?” He asked and leaned against the counter, a flirty look crossed his face, “you look amazing, Olivia.”

She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger, she licked her lips as she eyed him like she was hungry.

“So do you.”

Steve smirked at her and chuckled softly.

At that point, you didn’t know what you felt because your sadness ran so deep, you didn’t have it in yourself to feel jealous anymore.

You just felt like a fool.

And you felt angry, at yourself and at him for being so horrible to you. Olivia’s giggles did nothing to make you feel less horrible, like nails on chalkboard her voice was irritating you in the worst way possible, so before leaving, you turned towards her and when she met your gaze with a fake smile, you matched the look on her face.

“Wouldn’t waste your time here, Olivia,” you said her name, mockingly and looked her up and down, not feeling jealous over the ugly sandals or the green skirt she was wearing. “He only flirts to pass time. Besides, isn’t that your boyfriend waiting for you?” You asked and tilted your head at the guy in front of the store, he was already glaring at Steve.

Olivia clenched her jaw and glared at you, huffing in annoyance which gave you a little satisfaction.

“Better not leave him waiting or someone might tell him what or who you do every Saturday night.”

Her pale face grew even… paler and you couldn’t even bite back the smirk, despite the blow that was just delivered to your heart.

Steve raised his eyebrows as he looked between you, he saw the way you blinked, fastly, he saw how glassy your eyes were despite the look on your face.

You turned back to him and looked at him with a straight face, “you usually don’t mind sharing your girls though, do you? So… go nuts,” you shrugged before you turned around and walked away from him, not planning to look back.

You should have, you should have looked back because then you would’ve seen the guilt in his eyes, the regret that crossed his features, the tension that slipped off his shoulders and the disinterest that took over for the girl in front of him. The sadness that flashed in his eyes for missing an opportunity, for letting you go like this.

But you didn’t, you kept going and you rushed back out into the bustling mall, you blinked away the tears and made your way back home. You tore the dress off your skin the moment you stepped into your room.

And you never wore it again.

You roll your eyes at yourself for feeling pain for the girl you were a year before, for still hurting because of the things he said to you, for the way he looked at you, for the way he flirted with a different girl in front of you.

The past doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter, especially not now, not anymore – not after what you have gone through together, not after he changed, not after he started treating you differently, not after all the nights and mornings you have spent with each other, not after all the gentle touches, not after the way he kissed you and held you close that one night, not after he called you late at night just to hear your voice.

He is different now, you are different now, you aren’t the teenagers you were a year back.

The past shouldn’t hurt.

You slam the closet door shut and walk out of your room and into the bathroom, you start the shower, letting the water warm up while you take off your clothes. You feel frustration bubbling inside of you, the conversation with Max and her encouraging words triggered all the memories that you refused to think about in these past few months.

The day at Scoops Ahoy made you sad and angry, it made you want to never see him again, you avoided the mall after that day and you didn’t see much of him after. You hated yourself for hoping, for going after your feelings, for believing that you could have a chance after Billy’s encouragement – Billy who pushed you away only a week later, with harsh words and a mean look on his face, he pushed you away when you needed him the most and you felt alone again, so alone. At that time, you didn’t understand why he did it, why he didn’t want you in his life anymore, you didn’t know that he was just trying to protect you from the upside down, from himself.

And then he died and you lost yourself completely.

You drowned your sorrows in alcohol and kissed the lips of strangers, you let them touch you in hopes that you would feel something, you woke up in their beds and hated yourself after because no matter how good they were to you, how nice the conversations went, how much they made you laugh, how nice they made you feel, they couldn’t make you forget about the friend you lost, they couldn’t make you forget about him, they couldn’t give you what you wanted, what you needed, what you longed for.

You searched for glimpses of Steve in every man you kissed and you hated yourself for it because you wondered why you even felt that way for someone who couldn’t even stand you, who hated you with all his being.

What made you fall in love with him?

What tied you to him the way it did?

Because he never gave you a reason to fall in love with him back then, he treated you unkindly from the moment you met and yet you couldn’t help your feelings, you couldn’t help but adore him, you couldn’t help but admire him.

You even felt your own heart break when you found out about what Nancy did to him, how she broke his heart so carelessly, how she cheated on him with her friend.

And you felt it break even more when he still wanted her, even after everything she did to him, he loved hard, just like you did, like you do. No matter what she did to him, he still loved her.

And now, you can’t help but ask yourself the question that you have always avoided.

Does he still have feelings for her?

You wonder if he still wants her, if he still wishes for a future with her, if she is still the one he craves by his side.

He doesn’t look at her the way he used to, not anymore, he doesn’t seem sad around her the way he did after she rejected him and yet, you still wonder, if you are just someone he passes time with while he hopes that she might change her mind in the future. If you are the person he finds comfort in because he can feel that you love him the way she never did.

Are you the replacement? The filler?

You feel yourself crashing, the water feels hot on your skin but you feel the shudder running down your spine, the goosebumps that rise on your skin make you shiver, your throat tightens and your eyes blur with tears as your heart clenches in your chest.

You wipe your tears in anger even though your whole face is wet from the water pouring down on you, you turn off the water and open the curtain in anger, you reach for your towel and wrap it around your body.

You wipe the fog off the mirror and look at your reflection, at the marks on your neck, at the tears running down your cheeks.

Are you stupid for crying when you knew exactly what you were signing up for?

You always knew what this was to him and you were satisfied with it because you just wanted him, no matter how, you wanted him and you got him.

But you can’t stop your heart from aching because somehow, you fell even harder for him and you can’t stop from hurting when you think about what you are to him and what you might never be.

Just sex.

A friend… nothing more than a friend, that’s what he said, you are just a friend.

The confidence that only started growing inside of you not too long ago begins to crumble and you don’t know how to stop it from falling apart.

You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and the thoughts that drive you mad. You take a look around, at the things he left in your bathroom, his toothbrush next to yours, his body wash and shampoo in your shower, his Farrah Fawcett hairspray that no one can know about.

Would all this be here if you didn’t mean something to him?

Would he have made space in one of his drawers just for your stuff if this meant nothing?

Would he have let you in if he still wanted someone else?

Does he even still want someone else?

You huff in annoyance for letting yourself fall into this spiral of overthinking. You feel as though all these questions come to haunt you for pushing them away all these weeks and now you feel a headache coming and you grow irritated with yourself and with your insecurities.

You shut them down as best as you can and busy yourself with other things, you moisturize your skin and blow dry your hair. You put on your fresh clothes and comb through your hair before you leave the bathroom, it’s much darker in the hallway than expected, the grayish clouds hide the sun and the sound of thunder rumbles in the far distance, drops of rain already paint your windows.

Goosebumps rise on your skin and an unsettling feeling sinks into the pit of your stomach. You feel the cold wind on your exposed skin from the open window in your bedroom, you make your way inside, pushing the blowing curtains away as you reach forward to shut the window.

Lightning surges through the sky, deep purple colors flash in the darkening clouds far away. You would’ve felt your heart dropping by now if you didn’t notice the burgundy car parked in your driveway, the door opens and he steps out, a second later, a brown paper bag in his hand and something tucked beneath his arm, he shuts the door and locks it, wasting no time to find shelter under the roof on your porch as it starts raining harder.

Instead of dropping, your heart skips a beat, forgetting all about the pain it just felt from the saddening thoughts in your mind.

Through all your overthinking and pondering, you forgot that he was coming over.

You shut the window and rush downstairs, opening the door as he rings the doorbell for a second time. A frown lingers on his face but it disappears when his eyes lock with yours as soon as you open the door and a smile tugs at his lips instead.

“Hey Blondie,” he breathes and rushes inside when you step aside to let him in, “looks like the end of the world out there.”

“Hi…”

You close the door and lock it before you turn around to face him.

Steve kicks off his shoes and throws the movie tapes that were tucked beneath his arm on the counter where you keep your keys and sunglasses, he puts his keys into the little bowl and then he steps towards you and reaches for your hand, he pulls you towards him and takes you by surprise when he leans down and smacks his lips against yours, kissing you shortly. Greeting you with a kiss, something he had never done before.

Your eyes widen a little and your throat tightens for a different reason now, you stare at him, unable to hide the surprised look on your face.

And Steve, he furrows his brows and his smile falls a little, not because of your widened eyes but because of the glassiness in them, he frowns as worry swirls in his chest.

“Hey,” he murmurs and lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek, “is everything okay?”

You blink.

Your heart jumps at his action, at the question, at the concern in his soft brown eyes. You breathe in deeply, you open and close your mouth a few times, unable to find the right words.

You didn’t cry all that much, it’s not so visible on your face, is it?

“Did something happen?” He asks, a little softer this time.

You shake your head, “n-no, I’m fine, just tired, I’m probably coming down with something…” You lie.

“In the summer?”

You force a smile and look down, shrugging, “guess I’m not that strong…”

“Well, then let me take care of you,” he whispers and caresses your cheek.

You wonder if he knows what he does to you with such words and actions, you sometimes wish he knew that your heart leaps every time he does such things, maybe then he would take pity on you and not fill you with so much hope, even in your worst moments.

You nod at him and let him take your hand back in his, he gives you a sweet smile that nearly makes you crumble.

“So how was your day?” Steve asks as he tugs you along with him and leads you into your kitchen.

You swallow the lump in your throat and shrug, “good, I went shopping with Max and then we ate lunch with Eddie.”

Steve smiles at that, he places the brown paper bag on the kitchen table and turns to face you.

The soft look in his eyes and the smile on his lips makes you feel guilty for the thoughts that rushed through your mind just moments before. This side of him is the only one you have known in the past few weeks, the gentle and sweet side you never thought you’d ever get to see.

“I got us dinner, burgers and fries but I got the fancy ones from Enzo’s,” he chuckles and lets go of your hand, stepping away from you and towards the sink. “Did you find anything?” He asks as he runs the water and uses the hand soap you always leave in your kitchen to wash his hands.

You furrow your brows at his question, feeling a little lost and confused.

“Hm?”

“When you went shopping.”

“Oh.” You nod your head, you went back to the jewelry store to look for new rings and the necklace you fell in love with but it was already gone, it would’ve looked pretty with the dress you picked out for Joyce’s and Hopper’s wedding. “Yeah, I finally got a dress for the wedding… oh and shoes… and makeup.”

Steve smiles fondly when he turns back to you, “what color is your dress?”

“Uh, it’s black,” you say and walk over to the fridge to grab a drink for you both, “sounds boring, right? But it’s really pretty and I got some pink heels to go with it.”

“It doesn’t sound boring,” he shakes his head at you and carries two plates to the kitchen table, “besides, you look gorgeous in anything.”

You freeze.

Your eyes grow wide and your cheeks start burning.

Gorgeous?

He surely never called you that before, especially not after greeting you with a kiss on your lips.

“T-Thanks, Steve.”

He hums in response and you look back at him to see him placing the food on the plates, putting more fries on yours than on his. His brows are pulled together in concentration, his lips pressed together, his hair looks a little messed up from the wind but he looks so cute like this.

And you can’t help but think of how intimate this all is, him kissing you after walking in, him asking you about your day and the color of your dress, him plating your dinner.

You can’t help but hate yourself for all the overthinking and reminiscing of the things that happened in the past.

You close the fridge with a sigh and make your way back to the table, placing the coke in front of his plate.

“Thanks, Honey.”

You give him a smile and sit down across from him, looking down at the delicious food in front of you, “I’m horrible, you always cook for us or order something and I never do anything.”

Steve shakes his head, glaring at you, “you’re not horrible and that’s not true, you cooked breakfast and dinner before.”

You pop open your soda can, “yeah, I made french toast and sandwiches.”

“Yeah and it was amazing, now shut up and eat your dinner, kid,” he says playfully, his eyes glinting with amusement when you laugh.

You push your hair out of your face and pick up the burger, unaware of the fond smile that tugs at his lips as he watches you take a bite. His eyes roam your face, your eyes are a little red and he can’t help but think that you lied to him about feeling sick, you look fine, you just look a little… sad and it makes him feel upset because he knows that you won’t talk about it, especially not with him but he wants to be there for you, he wants to give you a shoulder to cry on, to lean on, he wants to give you comfort.

He looks down at the shirt on your body and when he recognizes it, his eyes lighten up and warmth blooms in his chest, it’s his shirt.

He bites back the smile as he looks down and starts eating too, welcoming the comfortable silence between you as the rain paddles down the windows, the thunder still crashing somewhere, far away.

You flinch every time a loud crash booms through the sky, it’s nothing new to him, he noticed it the very first time it happened. Every time the sky turns a little darker and the wind picks up, you fidget and get anxious. He wonders if it’s a fear you have taken with you from the upside down or if it is something that accompanied you before, he never dared to ask before.

Every time he showed up during a storm, your eyes were filled with fear and your hands were shaking. You would relax and calm down a few minutes after his arrival, his presence seems comforting to you and it’s why he rushes to get to you every time he sees the dark clouds and hears the thunder.

“Hey Blondie?”

You look up at him through your lashes and raise your eyebrows, “yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

You put down your burger and reach for your drink, nodding at him.

“Have you always been afraid of storms?”

You seem to be taken aback as you stare at him and blink, not moving or saying anything just yet and he fears that he crossed a line.

“I just, I noticed that you flinch at every crash.”

You always tried to hide your reactions, not wanting to seem scared or weak, and usually no one ever noticed things about you that you didn’t want them to see but Steve seems to see right through you.

His hazel eyes aren’t filled with judgment or amusement, just with curiosity and… a hint of concern?

You take a sip of your drink and sit back, relaxing your shoulders as you look into his eyes.

“Yeah, I just, I guess it got stuck with me from when I was a kid,” you chuckle and roll your eyes, “I know, embarrassing right?”

He shakes his head and frowns, “no, not at all.”

“Honestly, it wasn’t even that bad when I was a kid, it got worse when I was a teen. My parents would go on these business trips sometimes and trusted my sister to look after me but she used those opportunities to go hang out with friends or go to parties or whatever else she was doing,” you explain, not looking away from him, “and I hated being alone, it probably didn’t help that I watched horror movies every time I was alone.”

Steve chuckles at that, though he can’t help but feel sad for you.

His parents left too, hell, they still do. To know that you were in a similar situation as him when you were younger fills him with regret, knowing that he could have been there for you and you for him, if he just wasn’t such a dick to you.

“I just always got so anxious whenever I heard the howling wind and the loud thunder, it felt like the fear paralyzed me in a way… I don’t know, does that even make sense?”

Steve nods, “yeah, yeah it makes sense.”

But now he wonders how the hell you jumped into the water to save him, after everything that you had been told about the upside down, about the storms, about the monsters, you still jumped into the water when he was pulled under. You knew what was waiting for you on the other side and you still did it.

“B-But how… I… the upside down was filled with storms?”

You would’ve jumped into a hurricane if it meant saving his life.

“I wasn’t going to prioritize my fears over your life, Steve.”

Steve feels a little stunned, he knows how paralyzing fears can get, how they can hold you back from everything, but you, you didn’t care about your fears, about yourself, knowing that it could’ve ended badly for you down there, you cared more for him than you did for yourself, even when he was nothing but an asshole to you who treated you like shit.

If he knew you, the real you, he wouldn’t have been so harsh to you, he wouldn’t have been so… cold. He would have never said a single bad word to you but he thought you were cruel and he thought you hated him so he gave you a side of him that didn’t even exist, it was an act, nothing more, nothing less and he regrets it more than anything.

He regrets every word he said to you before this. And he feels as though he doesn’t deserve this, you, not even in this way, not after everything he said to you and about you.

He wants nothing more than to take it all back, to make it up to you.

And as you sit there in front of him, with red rimmed eyes that prove that you have cried before he came here, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over again.

But instead of doing that and risking making you uncomfortable, he slides his plate closer to you and changes seats so he is right next to you, he ignores the confused look you give him and the question you were gonna ask before he grabs your face and kisses you, making you gasp in surprise.

You melt into the kiss quickly, despite the confusion that lingers in you. You place your palm on the side of his neck and kiss him back softly.

And just like that, your worries and your anxious thoughts fade away into nothing, his touch, his kisses, he makes you forget about all the sadness that gnawed at you before, for a moment, they don’t matter and they won’t be back till later.

For a moment, you’re allowed to feel hopeful and confident again.

When his hand finds your waist and his lips move slowly and softly with yours, when he hums into the kiss and pulls you closer, when he makes you feel special.

Steve’s eyelashes flutter when he pulls away and opens his eyes again, smiling softly as he pecks your lips once more before he moves back, like he didn’t just steal your breath and made your heart pound wildly.

“What was that for?” You breathe.

“To calm you down from the storm,” he shrugs, chuckling at his own words.

“Why do you think a kiss would calm me down?”

“I don’t know, I read it in a magazine,” he lies and looks down at his food with rosy cheeks and a sheepish smile.

A giggle falls from your lips.

“Right,” he nods and points a finger at you, still smiling, “it’s scientifically proven that kisses help with the distraction.”

“Mhmm,” you hum and nod, “right, totally yeah.”

Instead of tears, you’re biting back a smile now, falling right back into the state you are always in when you’re around him – into bliss.

You continue eating and you ask him about his day, you push your plate towards him, sharing your fries with him once he practically inhales the ones on his plate. He keeps on talking, the whole time you sit at the kitchen table you ate your meals alone at, he tells you all the gossip he’s heard from Robin, keeping you entertained and making you giggle, making you forget about the raging storm behind you or the pain you felt before, he makes you forget about everything.

And you thought this would be like any other night you spent with him.

But it wasn’t.

Steve didn’t sleep with you that night, and you didn’t initiate it either. The storm was at full blast over your house, and Steve made sure to have the TV at full volume when watching the movies he stole. He mentioned Keith was busy trying to talk to a female customer and he didn’t even look at Steve when he shoved them down his shirt.

You laughed with him, giggled, and – are you the replacement? Are you really? Or are you actually in his heart?

The past tells you that you are the filler for the holes in his heart, but the present– the present tells you otherwise. It tells you that there might be a chance. His smile tells you that he likes spending time with you. The frown over his eyes when something happens to you tells you he is worried for you. The way he is possessive over you tells you that he considers you his.

Is it foolish to believe in the present? Is it foolish to simply forget about the past? Is it foolish you cannot and won’t let go of him? Is it foolish to simply love him, with no reason at all?

And you just know… that Billy never once said it was.

Billy who wouldn’t want you to give up. Billy who wouldn’t want you to go back into the past. Billy who would want you to keep living in the present. Billy who would still encourage you if he were here. Billy who helped you pick that dress at the GAP to shoot your shot that day at Scoops.

Billy never gave up on your love for Steve.

You shouldn’t either.

And you won’t.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dwoht — chapter nineteen #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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imwetforyourmom · 4 months

Note

can u do hc’s of Matt sturniolo flirting w reader? (During the relationship or not, ur choice)

thank you I love ur writing

flirty matt hc’s

a/n: chat how does flirting work

BEFORE DATING

༝༚༝༚ despite where you guys were, at the fair, in a grocery store, anywhere, matt was always either checking you out, making a comment or paying you a compliment,

“lookin’ good y/n” he smirked, eyeing you with no shame present on his face.

༝༚༝༚ even with only being friends, matt always talked to you like you’d been together for years

“hey pretty, do you know where my last sense of purity went when I saw you?” some of these flirts being stupid and cheesy lines.

༝༚༝༚ subtle ways of showing his affection—either platonic or romantic, whatever you decided it seemed like— to you always consisted of simple knee touching, arm on the shoulder or glancing at you with love in his eyes, didn’t matter who else was watching.

༝༚༝༚ speaking of looking at one another, matt always found himself looking at you, taking in your appearance and never failing to say something about how pretty you looked.

“who the fuck let you walk around lookin that pretty?” he said, grabbing your waist and looking down at you, a small smirk on his face.

༝༚༝༚ during matts tough guy act, he stayed the same, cold and rude but whenever it came to you, you saw his eyes soften and his demeanor change quickly, before a sly smirk grew on his face and a compliment came from his mouth.

༝༚༝༚ matt was always prepared, he always had a pickup line ready for when you said something even remotely close to it.

“guys, I love music so fucking much.” you said, nodding your head to the beat of the music playing throughout the speakers.

“not as much as I love you” he mumbled, with a straight face, his focus completely directed onto the road, he probably didn’t even realize he’d said it.

༝༚༝༚ simple conversations with matt turned into him watching you intently, a look on his face that wasnt quite readable, except with his occasional lip biting, leaning his face slightly more towards yours or tilting his head to the side subtly while you spoke, an unspoken sense of attraction bubbling within him.

༝༚༝༚ when talking to you, even in a conversation, he’d mention your name in a sentence (more than once), with his chin tilted down ever so slightly. a small quirck of the corner of his lips up.

DATING

༝༚༝༚ even after he asked you if he could be your boyfriend, he still checked you out with a comment, anywhere. nothing changing from when you weren’t dating.

༝༚༝༚ his glances at you turned into staring. the staring only becoming worse but his eyes swirling with even more love and pure affection.

༝༚༝༚ despite dating now, when you caught matts eyes on you he’d quickly look away, scratch his neck before suddenly gaining his confidence back and looking back over at you, his eyes staring into yours and a small smirk on his face, he stared for a few more moments before he winked at you. a subtle, but noticeable action.

༝༚༝༚ after hours of talking (and him literally only flirting) with matt on the phone, he’d put a little more thought into his words, and when he’d say them, he’d make his voice slightly lower with a small hint of lust or seductiveness in his voice.

“im gonna take a shower, ill talk soon, ok?” he’d say. in his mind, saying this would make you think of him in the shower, an intimate thought that he’d done on purpose.

༝༚༝༚ when you’d mess up or feel unmotivated, he’d be right by your side or standing behind you, rubbing your shoulder and very encouragingly saying beside you, with even the slightest hint of flirting

“cmon pretty girl, I know you can do it.” still aknowledging your mess ups but purposefully using a pet name he knew made you weak in the knees.

༝༚༝༚ one time matt and you were in an elevator together, alone, and he’d grabbed your waist, pulling your front up against his and peering down into your eyes,

“looks like we’re in here, alone. wander what we could do?” with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a wandering hand, moving down to grope your ass.

༝༚༝༚ when sitting under you, or you standing above him, he’d occasionally wrap his arms around the back of your thighs and gently pull you into his lap, a small smirk on his face and a suggesting look in his eyes.

“oh my gosh y/n, how’d you end up in my lap? you clumsy girl.” he’d tease, his interlocked hands tightening the hold on your ass, bringing you slightly closer to him.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @sturn-bugz

@maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @mels22lunchbox

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcannons #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #mollys requests #mollys anons #.:*¨༺ ♱ inbox

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alessiasfreckles · 5 months

Text

read my lips (mapi león x ingrid engen x deaf!reader)

You've had a long day, and the last thing you want to do is meet your friend at a busy café after work - until two women show up and ask if they can sit at your table.

a/n: based on this request, i hope you like it! i'm sorry it's not super long but i might do a part 2 x (also i have the same shirt as the one mapi is wearing in those pics so i had to use them)

------

The day started out like any other. You got up, showered, got dressed, had a quick breakfast and headed off to work. That’s when things started to go downhill. Somehow half of your files were missing, so you had to spend hours trying to recover them, and when that didn’t work you had to contact the IT guy, who didn’t seem to understand that exaggerating all of his words and shouting made it harder to understand him than if he just spoke normally. Then you realised you’d forgotten your lunch at home, so you had to spend half of your lunch break going to the shop down the road - and they didn’t have the sandwich you wanted.

By the time you’d finished work, you wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed. Unfortunately, you’d planned on meeting a friend at a nearby café, and you hadn’t seen each other in months, so you really didn’t want to cancel. With a sigh, you packed your things and headed to the café.

It was busy, and the noise was draining - the clanking of cups, the hiss of the coffee machine, the sound of cutlery scraping against plates. Your friend wasn’t there yet, so you ordered a drink and found an empty table tucked away in a corner. You sent her a quick message, telling her where you were sat, and turned off your implants with a breath of relief. You were looking forward to seeing her. She was Deaf as well, and it got tiring talking to people all day. It would be nice to just be able to sign away to someone, someone who spoke the same way you did.

As you waited, you scrolled through your phone. You could make out muffled sounds behind you, but ignored them, knowing that when your friend arrived she would just sit down, rather than trying to get your attention.

The sounds quieted down, but then came back after a minute. You kept scrolling through your phone until someone stepped into your line of sight. Looking up, you saw two young women. One had dark brown hair and piercing blue-green eyes, and the other had lighter brown hair with blonde tips, and a tattoo across her neck. They were both stunning, and it took a moment for you to register that they were trying to talk to you. You quickly focused your attention on the dark-haired girl’s lips, watching her mouth move.

“Hey, would we be able to sit here? All of the other tables…” her mouth kept moving, but she turned her head, gesturing to the rest of the café, which was packed. You frowned as you tried to read her lips, but it was hard when she wasn’t facing you directly. Guessing that she was saying something about nowhere else being free, you nodded. It was a table of four after all, and it wasn’t like you had to worry about them listening in to your conversation.

“Yeah, sure. My friend should be here soon but there’s still space,” you said, trying not to get distracted again by how gorgeous the women were. They smiled gratefully and sat down. You went back to scrolling on your phone as you waited, wondering where your friend was.

“Are you from around here?” the woman with the tattoo asked, sitting down next to you. You didn’t see though, and hadn’t even realised she was talking to you. She waited a minute for a response, and when nothing came she raised an eyebrow at the other woman, who just shrugged.

Your friend arrived a few minutes later, rushing over to your table then stopping when she saw the two women. She waved at you, then glanced over at the women.

“Who are they?” she signed, and you shrugged.

“I don’t know, they just wanted somewhere to sit and this was the only place left.” you signed back quickly.

Your signing caught the eyes of the two women, who watched in surprise. As your friend sat down, the dark-haired woman moved over a little, making more space.

“Sorry, do you want us to move?” she asked, then cringed as she realised she’d just spoken to you, when the two of you were clearly using sign language. Still, you’d spoken to her earlier, so you must understand some spoken words.

“No, it’s okay,” your friend said with a smile, and the woman looked relieved.

The woman next to you tapped you on the shoulder, and you sighed inwardly, but turned to face her. All you really wanted to do was chat to your friend, not answer some stranger’s questions about being Deaf - which happened more often than you would think.

“Hi! My name is M-A-R-I-A,” she signed. The signs looked different to the ones you knew, and you guessed that it wasn’t British Sign Language.

“Where are you from?” you asked, and she looked disappointed that her signing hadn’t been received well. “Your signing looked good, I just don’t recognise it. Are you from a different country?”

“Ah, yes, I’m from Spain,” she explained, smiling apologetically.

“That explains it. There are different sign languages in every country. That must be Spanish sign language.”

“Can you hear?” she frowned, tapping her ear.

You could see the dark-haired woman frown and hiss something at the woman sat next to you, but didn’t see what it was.

“No, but I can lip-read,” you told her, tapping your lips. “What were you signing?”

“That’s so cool!” she exclaimed with a wide grin. “I was signing ‘Hi, my name is Maria’. Actually, everyone calls me Mapi, but I only know how to sign Maria.”

“Ma-pi?” you asked, watching her mouth closely.

“Si- uh, I mean, yes!” she nodded, smiling, and grabbed a pen from her pocket and wrote it on a napkin. Mapi.

The other woman chuckled and shook her head fondly, catching your attention.

“I’m sorry about her. She likes meeting new people,” she said, looking at Mapi with a warm look. “I’m Ingrid. I’m sorry, we’ll let you get back to your friend now.”

Mapi nodded, looking slightly bashful, and you tried to ignore the disappointment you were feeling.

“How do you end up sat with two of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen?” your friend signed to you, eyes wide.

“Luck, I guess?” you signed back with a shrug. “They really are ridiculously hot, though, right?”

She nodded, stifling a laugh. The two of you chatted for a while, catching up on each other’s lives, when her phone vibrated on the table between you. Her eyes flew to her phone and she grimaced apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I have to go, I forgot that I-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, you can go,” you signed, rolling your eyes teasingly. She was notoriously forgetful, and if anything you were surprised that she’d even made it to your meeting. She apologised again and was out of the café within minutes, leaving you alone with Mapi and Ingrid once again.

You sat for a moment, contemplating whether to stay a while longer and read or whether to just leave. Deciding that, really, all you still wanted to do was get into bed, you packed up your things and left, waving goodbye to the two women.

Except, when you got outside, you realised it was raining. Not just raining, but absolutely chucking it down. Rummaging through your bag, you had a sinking feeling that only got worse as you searched, realising that you had, in fact, forgotten your umbrella at home.

Fuck, you thought to yourself, wondering what to do. Normally you’d just walk, but in this weather and without an umbrella you definitely didn’t want to. There was a bus stop not too far, you supposed, but you weren’t sure what time the next bus was.

With a sigh, you turned your implants back on, bracing yourself for the sudden noise and winced at the sounds. As you started to pull out your phone to check the bus timetable, the door to the café swung open behind you, loud chatter and the clanking of plates catching your attention. You looked up to see Mapi and Ingrid, who were frowning at the sky.

“The weather here is so bad,” Mapi grumbled, but there was a smile in her eyes.

You nodded with a chuckle, and opened your mouth to reply when a car sped past, honking its horn, making you jump.

“Fuck, that was loud!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands over your ears. Mapi looked at you in surprise.

“I thought you couldn’t hear?”

“I can’t, but I have implants,” you explained, lifting your hair to show her the device. “I don’t really like using them though, the noise can be so overwhelming. I had them off in the café, but it’s safer to have them on outside.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi grinned. “I wish I could turn my hearing off sometimes.”

“María,” Ingrid admonished her, looking slightly embarrassed. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” she asked, turning to face the Norwegian. You tuned them out as you looked at your phone, remembering that you’d wanted to check the buses. Okay, there was one in 20 minutes, that wasn’t too bad, you supposed.

Or… you could wait, and see what Mapi and Ingrid were doing. Yeah, you wanted to go home, but it also wasn’t every day that two women this interesting just fell into your lap like this.

“Hey, you said you’re from around here, right?” Mapi asked, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention again.

“Yep,” you nodded. “Born and raised here.”

“Great! If you’re not busy, do you want to show us around a little?”

“Oh!” you said, surprised.

“If you’re busy, that’s okay,” Ingrid quickly interjected, mistaking your surprise for hesitation.

“No, no, I’m not busy,” you smiled. Fuck it. “I can show you around. Maybe we should go somewhere dry, first?”

#hannah writes fics #mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #mapi leon x ingrid engen #ingrid engen x mapi leon #ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader #mapi leon fluff #ingrid engen fluff #woso fanfic #woso one shot

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janiehellion · 2 months

Text

Wildflower Woes

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl Dixon hates you. Or does he? And do you only love the flowers that grow in your own garden, or do you love the wild ones too? Because with eyes watching in the darkness of the night, nothing is ever quite as it seems.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: SEASON ONE!DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HURT / ANGST / VOYEURISM / MASTURBATION / EXHIBITIONISM / DUB-CON / LANGUAGE / CUM PLAY / SEMI-PUBLIC

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8.000

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: NON-CON ELEMENTS

MASTERLIST

As you walked behind Daryl, your eyes drifted from the road ahead to the ground beside your feet, where something caught your eye and distracted you rather fast from everything else around you—a bunch of wildflowers that had bloomed along the side of the road. They were not only the kind you’ve always loved, but they were also a small reminder of what life really was like not so long ago.

Without a second thought, you decided to step off the path, with your fingers reaching out instinctively to touch the nearest blossom in silent admiration.

"They’re still so beautiful, despite everything," you whispered quietly to yourself, not wanting Daryl to hear what you were saying. "I remember how I always thought these were just pretty-looking weeds as a kid because Mom and Dad always had them everywhere in our garden. God, I miss them so much."

Kneeling down beside the flowers, you allowed yourself a quiet moment of peace, thinking back to a few weeks ago when everything was still normal. To those weekends gardening with your mom while your dad cut the lawn or filmed you and your mother to capture memories for the future. The time when your parents were still alive.

But that short moment of peace was quickly shattered by an all-too-familiar sound that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver through your body. Spinning around, your eyes locked on the rotting figure of a walker emerging from behind a tree, and panic flooded your mind.

"Shit!" You screamed, stumbling backward and falling hard onto the ground, and in your desperate attempt to avoid being bitten, you reached for your weapon, only to realize the handle was tangled with the strap of your backpack. Despair washed over you as the walker got closer, its hands reaching out to dig its fingers into your flesh.

Just then, Daryl heard your scream. He spun around, his crossbow aimed at the walker, and in the blink of an eye, the creature dropped dead at your feet with a bolt in its head.

"What in the hell were ya doin'?" Daryl shouted, his face full of anger as he rushed over.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stumbled to your feet, your voice trembling. "I… I just noticed the flowers! I’ve always liked flowers and these—"

"Flowers? Ya nearly got yerself killed over some damn flowers?" His eyes narrowed in frustration.

Daryl’s voice was bitter, full of anger, as he grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly back onto the road. Before you could react, he stomped his boot into the patch of flowers, grinding them into the dirt in front of your eyes.

"Can't believe ya'd risk yer life for this bullshit!" He said, as he pulled his bolt out of the walker and walked back to you again.

His grip on your arm tightened, and he yanked you forward. "Look at ya," he growled, full of disgust. "Ya think this is some kinda shitty garden party? We're fightin' to survive, and yer out here actin' like a pussy over a bunch of fuckin' flowers! ‘S that what's gonna save us? A fuckin' bouquet?"

His words made you flinch, and you were unable to hold back the tears that had already formed in your eyes. When you looked back up, Daryl's face was only inches from yours.

"Oh, look at ya, so delicate and pure!" He taunted with disdain. "Yeah… Ya gonna stop this shitshow with a bouquet, huh? Gonna wave 'em around and make all the walkers bow down to yer flowery grace? What’s next, princess? A fuckin’ garden gnome to guard the damn camp?"

You tried to steady your voice, fighting back your sobs. "Listen, Daryl… Thank you for saving me, really! But I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble! I just... I just wanted a moment of beauty that reminded me of—"

"A moment of beauty? Ya think yer gonna find some happy endin' in the middle of all this shit? It's like yer livin' in a fuckin' fantasy! Newsflash: This ain’t a damn fairy tale!" Daryl cut you off with a mocking laugh.

He stepped closer, invading your personal space. "Oh, I see. Ya got this big-ass plan, don't ya? Ya gonna sprinkle some petals ‘round and charm all the dead assholes with yer pretty flowers, huh? Hell, why not add a unicorn that shits glitter while yer at it?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but his insults didn't even give you a chance. "Oh, wait, I got it! Ya gonna build a fairyland where everything is perfect and we all live happily ever after! Ya gonna knit a quilt with flowers on it, and everyone will forget 'bout the damn world fallin' apart! That’s yer big-ass plan, ain't it?"

Listening to him, you struggled more and more to hold back your sobs, but you finally found the confidence to respond. "That's not true! And I didn’t say that. I just thought—"

"Thought what?" Daryl interrupted again, his voice almost yelling in anger. "Ya think that’s gonna change anything? Get real! Out here, ya don't get to have yer shitty moments of peace. Ya either get yer head outta yer ass or ya die!"

He shook his head, scoffing at you. "Tell me! What’s next, huh? Ya gonna start singin' lullabies to the walkers? Maybe ya should bake ‘em some cookies and ask ‘em to join the damn camp," he spat out, finally turning away and leaving you standing in the middle of the road, knowing that you’d follow him one way or another.

And you did.

Aside from Daryl's few mutterings of frustration, the walk back to the camp was quiet. He didn’t offer you an apology, nor did he ask why you seemed so fascinated by those wildflowers in the first place. Instead, he simply continued to walk ahead, throwing you angry sidelong glances from time to time, while his annoyed curses and angry mumblings barely reached your ears anymore.

You allowed the minutes to pass, and just as you were beginning to accept being his supply run partner a little bit more, Daryl's voice was heard again. "Quit yer damn whinin'! Pretty flowers ain't gonna keep ya alive!" he said, his anger not yet gone. "All this fuckin' bullshit just makes ya look weak! Ain't nobody got time for that. Ya gotta get that into yer head!"

He looked ahead, and with a sudden, quick move, he lifted his boot and stomped down on another few wildflowers growing along the side of the road. Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and your eyes widened in shock and hurt. The purpose behind it—to obviously hurt you—only made you clench your fists tighter, your nails digging into your palms.

But you stayed silent; the last thing you wanted was to give him any more reason to bully you and to fuel his anger. Instead, you focused on keeping your breathing steady, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you continued to follow behind him.

As you both finally approached the quarry, Daryl’s anger reached its breaking point, and in a rather sudden decision, he stormed off the path, disappearing into the woods without another word and taking the rest of the supplies with him.

"Yeah, yeah, run away, you fucking dickhead," you whispered to yourself before putting the backpack down next to the RV. "What a damn idiot! Just because he’s got a stick up his ass doesn’t mean he is allowed to shit on everything that others care about. He thinks he’s so tough, but he’s just an asshole who’s always acting like he’s the only one who matters around here! And here I was, thinking I might actually like him and have a soft spot for him. Guess I was just kidding myself. What a fucking joke!" You continued and let the sadness come out quietly as you were left standing alone.

"Can’t believe he thinks this is some kind of, I don't know, redneck survival training. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m so tough! I’ll just destroy whatever makes you happy!’ Well, newsflash to you too, Dixon: You’re not the only one who’s capable of surviving! Jesus…"

The sudden sound of footsteps approaching stopped your rant, and you turned to see Dale walking towards you with a look of concern. "Hey there," he said with a smile, taking the backpack into his hands. "You look like you’ve had a rough time out there today. Is everything okay? Where’s Daryl Dixon?"

You hesitated for a moment, the situation that has happened before making it hard for you to find the right words. Finally, you sighed and responded.

"I couldn’t give less of a fuck where that man is right now! I mean, listen, Daryl’s been—well, he’s been a jerk, like always. He got mad about a few pretty flowers that I found. You know, the wild ones that I showed you the other day when you were talking with Shane? Well, Daryl ended up stomping all over them because he had to save me from a walker, since the flowers distracted me and nearly got me killed. And now he’s just gone off into the woods without a word. He even took the rest of the supplies we’ve found with him. Can you believe that, Dale?"

"Oh, yes, I do remember the flowers; very nice to look at. My wife would’ve loved them as well, believe me," Dale’s eyes studied you as he listened to you, trying to understand what had happened, "but I’m sorry to hear about what has happened. Sure, Daryl’s got a lot of—let’s call it rough and tough edges. But I’m sure he’ll be back soon with the supplies; don’t you worry about that."

His words and warm smile helped to calm you down a little. "Yeah, I guess you’re right," you sighed, feeling a little better. "Thanks, Dale. I just needed to let off some steam. And maybe Daryl's right, some of those flowers weren’t meant to survive this cruel world…"

Dale nodded once more but looked slightly concerned because of your answer, though he decided not to address it, nor did he press any further. "Anytime. Now, let’s get these supplies sorted. I bet that Daryl will calm down soon enough as well."

You couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "Yeah, maybe. And pigs might fly too."

Soon enough, you were busy sorting the supplies when you heard footsteps approaching again. This time, it was Daryl who did come back from the woods, but his face showed that he was still annoyed.

"Here," he snapped, tossing his bag of supplies onto the ground. "Forgot to leave 'em here. Don’t expect any flowers or fairy dust."

You looked up from the supplies, sighing loudly. "Yeah, thanks," you answered quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I guess it’s good you’re back. The camp needs those supplies."

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Ya know, if ya spent less time daydreamin' and more time focusin' on what’s important, then we wouldn’t have to deal with this shit."

"Is that so?" You shot back, struggling to stay calm. "And what exactly is ‘important’ to you, Daryl? Destroying everything that reminds people of normalcy?"

He snorted at you. "Normalcy? Ain’t no such thing in this world no more. If ya can’t handle that, maybe ya should stay behind."

His words hurt, but you forced yourself not to fuel his anger. "Well, maybe if you weren’t so hell-bent on destroying everything that might still matter to others, you’d see that sometimes people need a bit of hope, however small."

Daryl stared you down. "Hope? Hope won’t keep ya alive. Only havin' a pair of balls and havin’ a clear head will do that. And from where I stand, ya got none of that."

"I guess we’ve all got our own way of coping with this new world," you said quietly, not really knowing what to answer him anymore.

His eyes studied you. "Copin'? Ya think I’m just ‘copin'’ here? I’m tryna keep us alive, and all ya do is mess 'round with flowers like it’s some kind of goddamn gardenin' hobby."

You took a deep breath. "I’m just trying to hold on to a bit of what makes me human. I know it might seem pointless to you at the moment, but those flowers... they remind me of something good, something that I miss."

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, good for ya. Maybe ya can save the world with yer damn flowers, while the rest of us are riskin' our asses."

Before you could respond, Andrea approached you, having overheard the conversation. "Hey, is everything alright?" She asked, her eyes looking from you to Daryl.

"Just a little disagreement," you answered, forcing a smile. "Nothing we can’t handle."

Daryl took a step back and shook his head. "Yeah, well, I’m done wastin' my time here. Gonna get some rest."

As he walked away, Andrea rolled her eyes and turned to you with a smile. "Don’t let him get to you. He's an asshole. But you’re doing the right thing by holding on to what makes you feel human. You’ll get used to him eventually."

Later that evening, as the campfire was burning down slowly and the rest of the group went to go to sleep after their meal, you sat quietly on the side, lost in your thoughts. Daryl had withdrawn from the group, sitting alone by a tree as he stared into the flames from afar. Eventually, you stood up and walked off to your tent, but the next morning, a flower appeared by the entrance, carefully placed where it was visible but not too obvious.

"Is he for real?" You said to yourself, not really sure why he'd even continue to make fun of you like this in the first place.

While you were helping with camp chores a short time later, you spotted Jacqui kneeling by the water, washing the clothes. Taking the chance to get some answers, you approached her.

"Hey, Jacqui," you began, trying to sound neutral. "I found this wildflower in front of my tent. Any idea who might be leaving them? I don't know if Andrea told you, but I had a problem with Daryl yesterday, and I thought he left the flower there just to keep on making fun of me."

"Of course Andrea told me, how come you think she wouldn’t? You can’t keep secrets around here!" Jacqui looked up, laughing out loud. "But come on, are you for real? You think it was Daryl Dixon? Really? Come on, that's too funny."

You blinked, taken aback by her reaction. "Wait, you think it’s funny that I’m even considering Daryl after him acting like a total dickhead? I just thought—"

Jacqui laughed again, shaking her head. "Oh, come on. Daryl? Why should he continue to make fun of you like that? I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw a beer can at your head, or leave a skinned squirrel in front of your tent or even under your pillow, but flowers? You're overthinking things. Honestly, I'd bet it's Shane."

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. "Shane? Seriously? That’s what you think? But Daryl literally bullied me because of them."

Jacqui stood up, stretching her arms. "So, what? I’m just saying that sometimes it’s better not to overthink things, especially when it comes to the Dixon brothers. There's nothing that'd benefit him in mocking you any further. Anyway, I’ve got clothes to get back to." With that, Jacqui wandered off, leaving you confused and a bit embarrassed.

"Hey! It’s not like I expect him to start a flower shop anytime soon, okay? It’s just super weird!" You shouted after her, shaking your head slightly, before you caught sight of Daryl from a distance, kneeling over his crossbow. The sight of him—mumbling to himself and clearly busy with whatever he was doing—irritated you, and you decided it was time to confront him directly.

"Daryl, can we talk for a second?" You finally asked and approached him hesitantly.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Whaddaya want, woman?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady despite the frustration you felt about him still being angry with you. "I found this flower this morning. Right by my tent."

"Yeah? And what’s that gotta do with me?" Daryl’s eyes narrowed, his tone defensive.

"I just thought that maybe you’d know something about it. I mean, I didn’t think it was a coincidence, since the flower is like the same from—" You started, but he didn't let you finish.

"Hell, I dunno nothin’ ‘bout those damn flowers. Ya think I’m runnin’ ‘round playin’ flower fairy for ya now or what? It wasn't me. Keep dreamin'," Daryl cut you off, his jaw tightening.

His voice was harsh, his tone dismissive. "Just stop pissin’ me off; yer just lookin’ too much into shit. It’s just flowers. Quit tryna make somethin’ outta nothin’."

Your frustration was growing, and you took a step closer. "I’m just trying to understand. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to understand something. Look, it doesn’t make sense for this flower to just—"

Before you could finish, Daryl cut you off again. "Hell, just drop it! Got enough problems without ya comin’ at me with this bullshit. Ain’t in the mood for yer crap no more."

Just then, Shane appeared with a wide smile on his face. "Hey there," he said, leaning against a nearby tree. "I couldn’t help but notice you looking a bit stressed. You up for some fishing? Could use some company, if you’re interested, that is."

You glanced between Shane’s big smile and Daryl’s scowling face, and with a small nod, you agreed. "Yeah, that actually sounds nice. I could definitely use a break right now. And it’d be nice to eat some fish every now and then."

Shane’s smile widened. "Perfect! We’ll have a great time, I’m sure of it; even if we don’t catch anything, it’ll still be fun. I’ll go get everything ready and come back to get you when I’m done."

"Why don’t ya both just try to drown while fishin’ then? I’m sure ya’d both do a great job at it," Daryl suddenly mumbled, turning back to his bag.

"Excuse me? What was that? What did you just say?" You asked, trying to keep your voice calm, but your confusion was obvious as you watched Shane walk away. "And what the hell are you even doing there in the first place, Daryl?"

"None of yer damn business," he snapped back at you with annoyance. "Maybe ya should spend less time bein’ a pain in the ass and more time doin’ somethin’ useful. Like catchin’ more than just one damn pitiful fish with that Romeo ya got over there."

You shook your head, feeling your frustration boil over. "You think you’re the only one who cares about survival? We’re all trying to get by, Daryl. But as a team! Together, as a group of survivors! And you? You’re just being an asshole."

Daryl’s gaze hardened. "Oh, that so? And what’s yer excuse for bein’ a pathetic, whiny mess? Thinkin’ yer entitled to shit? Get over yerself."

Before you could respond, Shane reappeared with some of the fishing gear. He then noticed Daryl’s bag next to his crossbow and raised an eyebrow. "Thistles? What the hell are you gonna do with thistles, Dixon? Prick us to death?"

"Guess we’ll be havin’ a fancy-ass thistle salad for dinner. Real gourmet shit," Daryl answered sarcastically. "Ya can eat parts of 'em, if ya so keen on knowin', but I bet ya knew that already, ain’t that so officer fancy-pants?"

Shane’s face turned serious as he glanced between you and Daryl. "Dixon, you got a problem with something? ‘Cause you’re acting like a real jackass for no goddamn reason at all!"

Daryl turned back to his bag. "Nah, just tired of watchin’ ya’ll pretend to be so high and mighty. Don’t need no charity fishin’ trip from ya, Shane."

Shane’s jaw clenched slightly, but he tried to sound calm. "Funny, Daryl, really funny. Maybe you should take a look at yourself before you start a fight you can’t win."

Daryl’s expression grew darker. "Ain’t here to be ya damn buddy, Walsh. Got my own shit to deal with, so why don’t ya just keep yer damn opinions to yerself?"

"Alright, alright. You do you, Dixon," Shane answered, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile as he looked at you again. "Come on, let's go fishing then; I’ll ask Jim to be on the lookout in the meantime."

You watched Shane walk away, then turned back to Daryl, who was now looking at the thistles in his bag.

"Great, really great. That went well," you sighed, shaking your head, but Daryl didn’t respond and instead continued to fumble with the thistles. You soon walked away, joining Shane by the water.

"Let’s get this set up," he said, handing you a fishing rod. "We might as well make the best of it."

As the time went by, the conversation drifted to other topics. Shane talked about his past life, even sharing police stories that made you smile despite yourself.

"Thanks for this," you soon said. "It’s nice to get away from the group a little, even if it isn’t far, and just... be."

Shane nodded, focusing on his line. "Yeah, I figured you could use a break. Daryl’s got a way of being a pain in the ass."

"I guess that’s one way to put it," you laughed back. “But he isn’t the only one around who isn’t very great to get along with. The real pain in the ass around here is Ed, and that’s a fact.”

“Ed, yeah, don’t remind me. But you do realize that talking about Ed would be a pain in the ass just as much, don’t you think?” He smirked, casting his line again. "But speaking of Dixon, you know, it’s actually funny. Because I’ve seen that asshole sneaking around your tent more than once. Creepy as hell if you ask me."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait, wait, wait... What are you talking about? What do you mean? Daryl Dixon? What? When?"

Shane shrugged casually. "Well, I’ve already seen him lurking around your tent when you first got here weeks ago, like he’s some kind of damn stalker. Even seen him hide behind some of the cars at night. Also quite funny, because Jim was the one who caught him near the RV first, since he’s more or less the mechanic around here. Did you know that being an auto mechanic was Jim’s job? Who would’ve guessed?"

You frowned at him, processing this new information. "Shane, could you please stop trying to change the damn topic for a moment? This isn’t about Jim right now! Just tell me if you’re serious about Daryl sneaking around my tent!"

"Relax, relax! But yeah," Shane laughed and shook his head. "I mean, Daryl’s always been a bit of a freak, but that... that was something else. Fucking creep."

You bit your lip, feeling confused. "I don’t know, Shane. I mean, sure, he’s rough around the edges, like Dale pointed out before too, but..."

"But? But what?" Shane asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hesitated, then sighed. "It’s a little stupid, okay? But when I first got here, I kind of had a fleeting thing for him. But not for long; I mean, I didn’t know anybody around here; you were all just strangers, so of course I didn’t know what he’s actually like."

Shane’s face quickly showed disbelief and a bit of anger. "You’re shitting me, right? That piece of shit who literally told us to drown? You had a crush on him?"

You shook your head, feeling quite embarrassed. "No, listen, it wasn’t exactly a crush! Please, don't call it a crush, okay? I simply thought there was more to him, you know? Maybe under all that anger, there’s someone who… cares."

Shane shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that you could see his muscles twitch while he was gritting his teeth. "You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That hillbilly dipshit? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, just like his brother Merle. And now he’s got you thinking he’s some kind of misunderstood hero? That piece of shit couldn’t even fit into the anti-hero category if he wanted to! I already told Lori and Carol to keep Carl and Sophia away from him and his brother! Because they’re both a bad influence!"

"It’s not like that, Shane! I know he’s very difficult, but..." You started, but he cut you off once more.

"But nothing!" Shane snapped. "God, you sound just like Dale! Please now, just listen to me. You deserve better than that. Someone who actually gives a damn about you. Not some freaking weirdo who creeps around your tent at night. I know that I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry. But you think Daryl’s going to change just because Merle’s probably dead? Nah. He’s just going to keep treating you and all of us like shit. But I’m here, and I actually care about you and the rest of us. And I did care right from the start."

You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed by his words. "Shane, please, this really is turning into an awkward conversation right now. I just need some time to think and not a motivational coach with a shotgun and a fishing rod."

"Fine. But just remember what I said. Daryl’s not the guy you think he is." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "And you know what? The two of you are a perfect pair of fuckin’ clichés. The tough redneck guy and the naive dreamer princess. It’s pathetic."

You hesitated, unsure of how to continue the conversation. "Okay, okay, I got it! Stop! I meant to ask you a different question anyway! About a flower I found by my tent. Did you leave it there for me?"

Shane shook his head. "Me? Leaving you a flower? No. Don’t have time for that. I have to keep this group safe, after all."

You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. "I know, I know, it's just that... Jacqui thought it might've been you. Guess she was wrong."

Shane shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting to talk any further. "Yeah, well, let’s just finish up here and head back."

A short time later, you and Shane packed up your gear and headed back to the camp, where the rest of the group, apart from Daryl, was already sitting around the campfire and talking. about the usual things, all the while you couldn’t stop thinking about what Shane had told you as you stared into the fire.

And as the night finally fell over the Atlanta camp, Daryl found himself in the shadows and lost in thought. He had withdrawn from the group throughout the rest of the day, thinking about how Shane and your fishing trip had annoyed him and left him feeling more than just pissed.

He moved quietly through the trees, his steps almost making little to no sound while his mind was full of conflicting thoughts, each one more chaotic than the last. He was still angry with himself over everything that had happened—his rage towards you, Shane’s arrogant attitude, and his own pushed-away emotions that he couldn't really ignore.

Standing by the edge of your tent, he looked around to make sure he was alone and out of sight before he crouched down, pulling out a small bundle from his pocket—another wildflower, the exact kind that you liked so much.

"Fuckin' ridiculous," he mumbled to himself and snorted. "Here I am, sneakin' 'round like some kind of goddamn lunatic."

He put it gently on the ground, just near the entrance of your tent, where you had to notice it one way or another. His fingers moved along the petals of the flower as if it could somehow help him feel better with his guilt. "Goddamn it, Daryl," he whispered to himself. "Ya really fucked it all up, like ya always do. Stompin' on 'em flowers like a fuckin' idiot. What were ya even thinkin'?"

His eyes narrowed as he remembered how he had responded and how he had used his insults and rage to try to push you away. "Ya didn’t mean it," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Ya were just so pissed off. Shane’s up her ass all day, and ya had to be the one who’s had to do somethin'. Hell, she's gonna think it was him now anyway, with the way he’s been actin' 'round her, that's for damn sure."

He stood up, avoiding stepping on the flower. "But ya know what? It ain’t 'bout him. 'S 'bout yerself, ya fuckin' idiot. Ya can’t just keep watchin' her and expectin' her to see ya for the piece of shit ya really are."

He looked around when he heard a noise, seeing you coming from a distance, and quickly moved to hide behind a nearby tree. His heart was racing in his chest; adrenaline and shame were rushing through his body, but he couldn’t let you see him; he couldn’t let you know that he was here, after all.

Daryl crouched down low, pressing his back against the bark of the tree he was leaning against. "Every damn night," he whispered quietly, "watchin’ her shadow. Shit, she doesn’t know. Fuckin’ hell, if she knew... I’m a goddamn creep. But I can’t stop. I just—I need to see her. Need to know she’s there."

His eyes followed you as you got closer, but he didn’t move. He was observing you and watching to see if you would notice the flower immediately, or if you wouldn’t until the next morning.

"She’s gotta know it’s me," Daryl thought, his mind racing and his body beginning to sweat all of a sudden. "She’s suspicious already. Can’t let her know the real reason why. She’d hate me for it."

His knuckles went white as he clenched his fists tightly. "I’m a fuckin’ idiot. That’s what I am. Tryin’ to make it right with damn flowers, but I’m still the asshole who’s watchin’ her like a damn perv. She’s got no idea," he whispered to himself again. "No fuckin’ clue what’s really goin’ on. Hell, if anyone 'round here knew, they’d run me outta camp. Can’t have that. Don’t want her to know; don’t want anyone to know."

"Why’d ya let things go this far?" He continued to tell himself. "Why’d ya let yerself get so fuckin' close to her? Ya think she’s gonna understand why yer such a fuckin' creep? Fuck, think again."

As you opened your tent, Daryl's eyes were watching you with nervousness. Even though he knew it was wrong, he was unable to accept the fact that he had been watching you most of the time at night, unable to take his eyes off your tent.

"Ain't gonna make excuses," he muttered. "Been an asshole, and I know it. Been watchin' her—sometimes even more than I should. Fuckin' hate myself for it. Every damn time I see her, she reminds me that I’m a damn bastard, and I can’t stand it."

Thoughts of how he had treated you kept coming back again and again to his mind. "I act like I don’t give a shit, but I do. Hell, I care more than I wanna admit. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so goddamn hard on her. Dunno. Maybe I thought it’d keep me from feelin'... this way."

Daryl stayed right where he was, watching you leave your tent open as you eventually got inside. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. "This ain't right. She deserves better than this. Deserves someone who’s not a fuckin' creep. Can’t help it. I keep comin' back here, leavin' these stupid fuckin' flowers, hopin' she might see some part of me that’s not completely fucked up."

He sighed, feeling his thoughts pressing down on him. "Yer a mess, Dixon. And ya know it. Yer leavin' flowers to try to make up for yer own damn behavior, and it ain't ever gonna be enough."

Upon entering your tent, you did notice the flower that was lying by the entrance. In fact, the flower was too familiar, and the thought of Daryl lurking around nearby made you shiver, but you didn’t acknowledge the flower directly. Rather, you purposefully chose to ignore it because Shane's remarks regarding Daryl had made you feel a little uneasy, which you could not quite shake, but it also somehow excited you to no end.

"Alright, let’s make this good, and let’s see if he really is sneaking around here," you then murmured to yourself with a smirk on your lips as you thought about your plan. "I’m gonna give him a show he won’t forget anytime soon."

You began to undress slowly, your fingers sliding over your skin as you glanced at the open gap of the tent, a deliberate choice to keep it ajar.

"Is this what you want, Daryl?" You whispered to yourself as you pulled off your shirt and slid your jeans down. "Do you want to see me like this?"

With every piece of clothing that you let fall to the ground, the blush on your cheeks turned redder. The thought of him possibly watching you from the shadows, all hidden and quiet, made you shiver with excitement and nervousness, because of the other dangers that might be hidden in the shadows. “Don’t think about anything else right now; I’m safe. I’m safe.”

Your fingers fumbled with the hooks of your bra, and you let it fall from your shoulders before you squeezed your breasts with your hands, the feeling of your fingertips brushing over your hardening nipples making you moan. "Look at me," you murmured, "see how I’m touching myself, how I’m getting so fucking wet because of you right now."

Your hand slid down your stomach, your fingers sliding into your panties, with the wetness of your pussy making you gasp as you started to rub your clit in slow circles. "You like this, don’t you? Watching me at night, knowing I’m thinking of you?"

You soon pulled your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, showing yourself off completely before you laid down and spread your legs, giving a full view of your wet pussy. With two fingers, you traced the outer folds before slipping them inside, letting out a quiet moan. "I know you’re out there," you whispered, "watching every fucking move I make."

As you began to fuck yourself slowly, your other hand continued to pinch and tease your nipples. "I can almost feel your eyes on me," you mumbled, "watching as I fuck myself. Is it turning you on, Daryl? I bet you're already so fucking hard."

You added another finger inside, curling them slightly to stretch yourself more and tease your G-spot with each thrust. "I bet you’re dying to feel what this is like," you taunted quietly, "to be so so fucking deep inside me right here, right now."

Your fingers moved faster, your hips moving in time with the thrusts of your fingers, and you were already getting closer to the edge just by thinking about the fact that Daryl was probably watching you. "I bet you’re imagining how fucking tight I’d be around you," you moaned. "I know you’re just as fucking turned on as I am."

Among the trees, Daryl remained hidden in the shadows. His eyes were locked on you, unable to look away even as his heart pounded violently in his chest. The way your fingers moved over your breasts, the playful, almost desperate way you touched your hard nipples—it drove him wild, and the image of you parting your pussy and pushing your fingers into yourself was nearly unbearable. Every little movement you made seemed to burn itself into his mind.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mumbled while his gaze shifted a bit as he attempted to stand up from his position without making a sound. He forced himself to remain motionless, but his hand went almost automatically to his zipper.

The simple sight of you, all naked, completely defenseless, and so vulnerable, was making him lose his mind. He could see how your body tensed and arched with every touch, and his eyes tracked every movement of your fingers as they slid in and out of your pussy.

"Fuck, not again; why’m I doin' this?" Daryl grumbled to himself, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock inside his pants. "This ain’t right. She’s right there, and I’m just—fuck!"

He glanced down at his own body, his cock pushing hard against his pants. It wasn't easy to ignore the pulsing need that was building up inside him—a need that seemed to only grow with every quiet moan you let out. His heart was racing, and he could feel the sweat starting to run down his forehead.

Daryl’s fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants; he was trying to calm himself down at first, but the sight of you getting yourself off was making it nearly impossible to think straight. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he muttered again, struggling to keep his breathing steady. "Ya can’t just give in. Not yet. Ya gotta keep control."

He watched you spread your legs wider, your fingers moving faster now, and it was all he could do to keep himself from making any noise. His eyes locked onto the way your body responded—how your hips bucked with each thrust of your fingers.

"Look at her. She’s so fuckin' beautiful," Daryl let out quietly. "So damn hot, and here I am, just watchin'. Like some sick fuckin' perv."

With a quiet, frustrated growl, he tried to regain control of himself, his hands clenching more tightly. Even though his cock was begging for attention, he was unable to let himself go.

"Keep it together, Dixon," he told himself, his voice trembling. "Yer not gonna just—give in. Not yet. Not like this. She’s... she’s right there. Goddamn it! Fuck!"

But Daryl's control was breaking fast, each breath that he took only making it harder to keep his impulses in check, and it was pushing him past the point of no return. The temptation was just too great, and he couldn't control himself any longer. His hands, which had been clenched tightly into fists, now finally moved to undo the zipper of his pants.

His cock sprang free, the sight of it being so hard making him shudder, and the moment his hand wrapped around it, he let out a quiet groan.

"Goddamn it," he mumbled, his voice full of frustration and lust as he started to stroke himself slowly. "She's gonna fuckin' kill me."

He couldn’t help but imagine your hands being on him—almost in the same way that you were touching yourself. He could hear your every moan, every breath, every whimper, and it only made him grip his cock tighter, his strokes becoming faster and more needy.

"I bet ya like that, don’t ya?" He grumbled to himself. "I bet ya fuckin' know I’m here."

It was impossible for him to ignore how badly he wanted to be the one touching you, to be the one making you sigh and moan for him.

"Jesus," he panted out and gasped. "Ya just keep fuckin' doin’ that, don’t ya, princess? Fuckin' hell..."

Struggling to remain silent, his free hand felt for the tree next to him, and he pressed it against the bark to steady himself. Though he was getting close to the edge and the tip of his cock was coated with pre-cum, he was determined not to cum just yet.

"Damn it, Dixon," he hissed at himself. "Look at ya, gettin' off to this all over again. Yer a fuckin' mess. Fuckin' pathetic."

There was still a part of him that wanted to stop, and he battled the shame and guilt that was building up and rising within him. But as your moans grew slightly louder and as you suddenly whispered his name into the darkness, it only pushed him further into his own desperate need.

"Hell’s she sayin'?" Daryl mumbled to himself, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus and concentrate on your voice. "Shit, she’s sayin' my fuckin' name..."

The sound of his name on your lips, even if it was only a silent whisper, made his cock twitch and pulse, and his strokes became more urgent with the intense need to finally cum.

"Fuckin' hell," he growled, his breathing coming out even more uneven. "She's gonna make me lose my shit. Just... just keep talkin', princess."

The way you were saying his name, the thought of you knowing he was watching, made it impossible for him to stay still. Finally, he couldn’t resist any longer. He stepped closer, his throbbing cock in hand, and let out a growl to make you notice him as he slipped inside your tent. "Ya really thought ya could just tease me like this?"

With your fingers still buried deep inside of you, your eyes snapped open. "Daryl?" Even though you knew that he was watching you, you let out a gasp, and your voice trembled slightly.

"Yeah," he said, taking another step closer. There was something else that turned him on even more than just the shock he could see in your eyes. "Thought ya could put on a private show for me, huh?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes never leaving his as he stood directly over you, his cock still hard and pulsing with every stroke of his hand. "A show?" You asked, your voice sounding a little shaky.

"Damn right. A show," he answered with a small smirk. "With me seein’ everythin'. Couldn’t stay away."

You pulled your fingers out of your pussy and tried to stand up, but Daryl pushed you back down with one of his boots on your shoulder. "Stay where ya are," he growled. "Don’t ya dare stop."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as you looked up at him, your heart racing. The realization about the rawness of the moment hit you, and you nodded slowly, your fingers sliding back into your pussy as you lay back down in your tent. Your eyes were locked onto his, and he could see the mixed feelings of shock, excitement, and lust in your gaze.

Daryl’s hand soon moved in rhythm with yours again, his strokes becoming faster and more urgent as he watched you. The sight of you, so shameless and wet for him, made him lose himself even more. "Ya know," he said, his voice still low and rough. "Ain't thought I’d see this day. With yer all spread out like this, knowin' I’m here, watchin' ya fuckin’ yerself. 'S a damn mindfuck."

You moaned in response, your fingers working in and out of your pussy with an increasing speed of your thrusts. "And you think you can just walk in here?" You taunted back and teased him. "You think you’re gonna get what you want, Dixon?"

Daryl’s eyes never left yours, his cock throbbing with need. "Ain't just here for the damn show," he growled. "I’m here to fuckin' claim ya. Ya got that?"

Your eyes widened, and you barely held back a loud moan, your fingers pushing deeper into your pussy. "And what makes you think I’ll just let you?" You challenged him back, your eyes wandering from his cock to his face again.

"Oh, I think ya fuckin' will," Daryl said, his voice full of confidence. "'Cause I fuckin' want to. And it’s my turn to take what I want."

Every movement, every quiet moan, and every word you both whispered to each other heightened the lust and need for the both of you. Daryl’s strokes on his cock became more frantic, and he could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with every stroke, but he was determined to hold off until he had fully taken in the sight of you.

"Gonna make sure ya know who’s watchin'," Daryl said quietly. "Gonna leave my mark on ya."

He positioned himself above you, and without saying another word, he pointed his cock at you, making sure that his cum would land where he wanted it to.

"I ain't done," he growled, his eyes locked on you. "Not yet."

He took another step closer, his hand still jerking his throbbing shaft, while his other hand reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you up slightly, just enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.

"Do ya want me to finish like this?" He mumbled, his voice already hoarse. "Or do ya want me to make a fuckin' mess 'round here in yer tent?"

You didn’t have a chance to answer before he let go of your hair and moved his cock closer to your body again. He had seen enough, felt enough—he was on the edge and couldn’t hold it back any longer. With a low groan, he started to jerk himself off harder and faster, his eyes never leaving yours, and without warning, he came hard, his hips bucking wildly and his cum shooting out, landing across your body, most of it on your breasts and chin.

"Fuck," he muttered, still stroking his cock, but slowing down. "Look at ya. Just a fuckin' mess now."

You lay there, slowly pulling your fingers out of your pussy, your body covered with his cum. "You know," you suddenly started, your voice quiet but teasing. "You might be the first wildflower that might leave a thorn in my side."

A smirk formed itself on Daryl's lips due to the mention of the flowers, but it was quickly replaced by a look of embarrassment, and he shifted uncomfortably as he put his cock back into his pants. "Shut ya damn mouth, woman."

Without a word, he stepped forward, grabbed your head roughly by your hair, and yanked you up to meet his eyes. You couldn’t help but whimper as he was staring at you up and down, so dangerously close.

Daryl grinned at the noise you made and grabbed your neck with his other hand, the thumb going to your chin and gathering the rest of his cum that was slowly sliding down on it.

"Eat," he insisted, but before you could answer or protest in any way, he put his thumb against your lips and pushed it inside your mouth, waiting for you to suck it off.

And just as he pulled it out again, his mouth came crashing down on yours in a rough and primal kiss. It was demanding, and his teeth moved against your skin as he went down to the side of your jaw, sucking on every bit of flesh on his way down to your neck before biting down hard into it, leaving his mark.

His gaze then fell to your fingers, still glistening with the juices of your pussy, as he held you in a tight grip to keep you from falling due to your trembling legs. Slowly, teasingly, he reached out and brought your fingers to his mouth. His tongue slid over your skin, licking and sucking them off intensely, devouring every bit of what was left of you on them.

Daryl enjoyed the taste of you, and his eyes never left yours as he pulled back a little, his hand roughly grabbing your chin. "Don’t ya fuckin' forget this," he growled, letting go of you and watching as you stumbled back onto the ground in front of him before he finally turned to leave. "Yer mine in ways ya don’t even understand yet."

TAG-LIST: NONE. BECAUSE MY WRITING SUCKS.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 months

Text

Irresistible {7} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff. WC: 4.5k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Your Playlist:

Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie

Pretend - Secondhand Serenade

No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis

You Broke Me First - Tate McRae

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi

Charles’ Playlist:

Your Call - Secondhand Serenade

The Loneliest - Mäneskin

Roses And Butterflies - Making April

Amnesia - 5sos

Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade

Love Is Gone - Slander

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script

Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.

“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.

“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind.

Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”

Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”

“Because we had one little fight?”

“I would hardly call it little.”

“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”

Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing.

“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.

“I’ll wait in your garage.”

He faked a smile and headed after Max.

The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.

Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit.

Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue.

As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”

“Can we have a donut day?”

You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”

Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic.

You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid.

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”

You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”

“I remember. Is this about a boy?”

You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”

You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.

“A boy, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”

“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”

“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”

You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”

Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”

“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”

“That bitch is a-”

“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…”

Your silence was damning.

“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”

“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”

“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”

“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”

“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”

You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”

You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.

“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”

You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay.

“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.

He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”

You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”

His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.

“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at.

“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”

“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”

“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.

“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”

“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.

He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”

“You know there are no cafes open?”

Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”

You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.”

Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”

“Me too.”

“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.

“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”

It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.

“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.

“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.

“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”

“Okay, have fun.”

Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.

Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived.

The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.

He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.

You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.

Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.

Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room.

The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”

Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes.

“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”

“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”

“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.

“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.

“I’m not wearing boxers.”

“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”

“You make a habit of that.”

“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”

Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.

Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”

His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.

“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you.

Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied.

“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.

“Would you like a break?”

You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”

“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.

“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”

The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.

“Open your eyes, schat.”

You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.

“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”

Six months later. “Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended.

“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room.

You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.

“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.

With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.

“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas.

Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued.

Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles.

That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.

“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”

You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”

Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”

He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”

“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”

He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”

“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”

“For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”

You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made.

“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body.

“Ugh, fine.”

The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.

The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.

The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.

“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.

You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”

Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.

“I am.”

He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”

He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.

“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”

“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”

“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.

“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.

“You really believe that?”

The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.

“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”

You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen smut #f1 smut

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 1 month

Text

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 11

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.2K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

The tree behind you is identical to the heart tree in the keep. But as you look out, you and Daemon are clearly standing in the middle of a city park. The street and cars are visible from your position.

“We’re in my world now.”

You walk around, trying to get your bearings.

“Where are you going? We need to get back!” Daemon caught up to you.

“No, Daemon, I spent months letting you and Rhaenyra try to convince me that my life wasn’t real.” You continue walking until you hit a road. Looking at the name, you sigh in relief. That witch outdid herself. Not only are you back in your world, you’re in the same city and just a few blocks from your apartment.

“What do you want me to say, y/n? That I’m sorry?”

You scoffed, “actually that would be a lovely start.” Speedwalking down the sidewalk, you try not to think about all the weird stares you’re both getting.

“Y/n,” Daemon grabs your arm to stop you.

“Hey man, leave her alone!” A passerby stops, grabbing Daemon’s arm in an attempt to pull him away.

“If you wish to keep that hand, you will remove it at once,” Daemon growls.

“It’s okay! No one is going to hurt anyone!” you jump in. “Thank you for stopping, but I promise everything is fine. My husband is just in the dog house at the moment.” The stranger’s brows furrow, but he releases Daemon’s arm. He’s openly staring at Dark Sister on Daemon’s hip. “Oh Jesus H. Christ,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead. “We are….uh…cosplayers. Yeah, my husband and I cosplay, and this was for a photo shoot.”

“No we-”

“Yep, we are just big fans of that medieval times shit!”

The stranger nods slowly, clearly regretting his choice to stop. “Well, um, have fun with that? Sorry, I just saw this dude manhandling-”

“No worries,” you say, pulling Daemon to walk away with you. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

Daemon is seething as you walk away, his hand drifting down towards Dark Sister’s hilt. “Why did you interfere? I had that handled!”

You don’t even try to bite back the laugh. “Really? You had it handled? What were you going to do, cut off his hand?”

“Yes!”

“Welcome to 2024,” you snort. “Even if you did, someone would have called the cops on the lunatic running around with a sword.”

“I am the Prince Consort-”

“I promise you no one here cares,” you groan. “We don’t really do all that here.”

You drag Daemon into your apartment building’s entry, running into one of your downstairs neighbors. “Hey Dani!” you say, “Going for a beach day?”

“You know it girl,” she grins, hoisting her tote bag up. “Gotta get some use out of the bikini and find myself a sugar daddy.”

“Where are we, and why is that woman in her small clothes?” Daemon asks, not bothering to lower his voice.

Dani glares, pulling her coverup closed. You’re shocked, but you elbow Daemon. “I am so sorry for him,” you stumble over yourself. “He’s….he’s amish. They don’t have bikinis….or apartments?”

She nods and leaves, clearly upset.

“Daemon what the fuck? You can’t just say tha-”

He doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic, merely looking down at you with a grin. “Do you have a bikini as well?”

You groan, hitting the button for the elevator. “You’re something else, you know that? I have half a mind to leave you alone so I can sulk in peace.” You hop on the elevator, and Daemon follows warily. He looks very unsure of the device. “You’re lucky I love you,” you sigh.

“What’s stopping you from abandoning me in this world?” Daemon asks. “You were clearly ready to cut all ties to us.”

“It’s complicated,” you say. “I was upset and needed space. But I could never just abandon you here, you wouldn’t last a day and I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“Does this mean you’re coming home?”

You step off the elevator, ignoring his question in favor of rummaging under your front door’s welcome mat for a spare key.

“My love, I’m sorry for not believing you,” Daemon begins. “Nyra is going to be worried sick, please just come back with me.”

“Daemon, I love you but I need time.” You sigh, looking around your apartment for your phone. It was still plugged in next to your bed. Picking it up, you saw the date. “That’s weird,” you murmur, “no time has passed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Today is the same day I woke up as her.”

“You’ve been with us for months though,” Daemon whispered.

“I guess time works differently when you’re traveling worlds.” You shuck off your dress and rummage through your drawers to find a bra. “I never thought I’d say it, but damn I miss bras.” You slip into a tshirt and jeans before trying to find something for Daemon to wear.

“My love, are you sure that is appropriate to be outside in?”

You groan, finding a pair of your ex’s jeans and a baggy shirt. “These should fit, just put them on and try to keep your opinions to yourself.”

“But y/-”

“No buts, do you want food or not?”

Daemon nodded, changing in silence as his eyes flickered around the room. “What is this?” he asked, gesturing towards your phone.

“It’s a cellphone. Think of it like a raven, I guess,” you say. “I can use it to write or talk to anyone in the world right now.”

“That’s impossible,” Daemon snorted. “Not even the fastest raven cou-”

You roll your eyes, dialing up your favorite pizza joint and putting them on speakerphone. “Hey, can I order pickup? A large pepperoni pizza and garlic knots for y/n.”

“20 minutes.”

Daemon stood, mouth agape as he heard the voice come through the other side of the line. You smirked, hanging up the phone. “Just wait until you find out about TV.”

“What is pizza?”

“The greatest thing since sliced bread.”

“What’s sliced bre-”

NOTE: It's me againnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Not gonna bore ya'll with the life drama, but damn life is crazy. Anyway, here's a chapter PLUS no spoilers but later today I'm dropping the first chapter to a new fic and the main love interest is *drum roll* WOLVERINE BB. As always - some ppl I can’t tag, so if you’re listed on the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @different-tale-student , @beca2468 , @hnm-mika , @pendejalian , @lexasaurs634 , @jaydemon99 , @lovelyy-moonlight , @waitaminuteashh , @winterrnight , @malfoycassimalfoy , @ghostlyvoidydragon , @spacexdrago , @asgardian1023 , @madamevirgo , @ahyespubes , @cowboybaby2 , @sm3156 , @ashlatano7567 , @cheat2tea , @kmatrixx1130 , @jubilee40 , @dimue , @coolmantha921, @ynbutbetter , @macaulaytwins , @idk-idk-idk-idk23 , @lavender2ari, @the-brainr0tt , @kamarimartell , @bluecloudsworld , @anonymous989, @uniquecutie-puffs , @mimitoupe01, @ace-spades-1 , @urmomsgirlfriend1 , @insufferablelust , @lilsyl , @spacexdrago , @ella-rose45 , @essiexxz , @apollonshootafar , @myheartfollower, @baybaybear1 , @povofjustme , @ninasully, @snapedog ,

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#house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fic #hotd season 2 #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra x alicent #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x y/n #queen rhaenyra

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calumfmu · 4 months

Note

Could…uh…we ever get a part two of Fgirlxsteve?

My love, my sweet, sweet love. Here it is. <3 Steve x Fuckgirl!Reader (part one here) 18+ mdni; smut, unprotected sex, cream pie, sweet!Steve, his idea of dirty talk is sweet nothings, fingers, eating out (female receiving), aggressive men (not Steve), 4.5k+ words

Avoiding the Family Video had been easy for you, it was just another place you had marked on your bed post. With all the pick in Hawkins, it was just another spot you had learned to add to your 'avoid-at-all-costs' list, along with the bowling alley, library down on 17th, and even the post office.

You occupied yourself with the other picking of men in the town, going after whatever you could get your hands on. They weren't as good as Steve, but you couldn't think about him. Whatever had happened between the two of you shouldn't have even been a topic of conversation, it should've been the last thing on your mind.

Yet that's how you found yourself arguing in the middle of the street, barefoot, shoes in hand with the new conquest of the week.

He was clingy, desperate to get you alone at any second he could, getting snappy when it came to other men even looking at you. It was toxic to say the least, but nothing that wasn't new to you. Toxic was your love language, but when it came to him, it was something else.

"This isn't how it works!" You yelled at him, your bag slipping off of your shoulder. The thing leather strap of it caught at the bend of your wrist, swinging in the air as you became more heated.

Taking a few steps away from him, you attempted to lean down to slide your shoes on, hopping a little in your movements.

"Babe, come on, just get in the car," the annoying man pleaded, hands waving in the air as he followed you. The two of you were walking down the middle of this road, residential area that was a little too quiet for the events that were taking place.

"Don't call me that!"

You didn't even turn to look at him, quickening your footsteps as you looked both ways to find peace away.

"Babe!" Another call of the word that made your stomach flip, eyes roll in annoyance.

The streets looked unfamiliar to you, parts of Hawkins you had yet to make your way around. Green lawns, green trees with leaves that were just starting to fall at the end of summer, abandoned children toys in the front of houses, a maroon beemer that looked oh, so familiar. The sight of it had your movements faltering, feet stumbling on the pavement.

The man that you were avoiding had time to catch up with the stumble in your gait, his hands coming up to grab at your upper arm.

"Come on," he said your name smoothly, milky white teeth shining behind the words in a smile. "Just get in the car, and we'll work it out."

All you saw was red, his handsome features turning up to make himself look foolish. You tried shaking your arm out of his grip, but it was no use, his fingers digging into your skin. Baring your teeth at him, you hissed at him, wanting to lean into a more primitive side that was clawing to get out.

"Let. Go," the anger in your words soured the taste of your mouth. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down. "No-"

The call of your name had you looking at a house a bit of the ways down, Steve standing in the yard, looking at the scene in front of you. He questioned you again, the sound of his voice calling out and down the street.

"Steve?" You repeated back, not believing that of all places you would find yourself right in front of his house. The eye roll you tried so hard to fight was beginning to come out, a situation for disaster bubbling up.

This situation was just what you needed.

"Are you okay?" His voice drew nearer as he took a few steps towards the two of you. Your failed date still had his fingers glued to your arm, your skin turning a few shades lighter from where they dug in. "What's going on?"

"Who are you?" You attempted taking a step back away from him, but didn't make it far, his grip pulling you right back into his side.

"I'm Steve."

"He's Steve."

The two of your voices blended together as Steve arrived in front of you. His eyes dropped to the grip on your person, brow furrowing slightly as he noticed the discomfort in your face. He gave you a slight nod of his head, checking in with you to see if he was reading this situation in the way that it truly was.

You wanted to be stubborn, wanted to not see him after the last moments that you shared together. It was awkward enough that the man had called your house a few times after you left him high and dry, you didn't want him to see the down side of the lifestyle you chose. With a slight nod back to him, he understood the message clearly.

"Hey, buddy, why don't you go back in your house with mommy and daddy, and leave the two of us alone?" The man by your side huffed out his chest a little, trying to intimidate Steve into fleeing the scene.

It made the two of you give him a side eye, lips turned up in disgust at him.

"I think I'm good," Steve nodded, hands stuffed into his pockets. Taking a step closer towards your other side, you could see the gears turning in his head as he scuffed his shoes along the pavement.

"So... what are you? Her knight in shining armor?" His hand finally left your arm, your fingers coming up to rub the bruise that was already starting to form. He took a step towards Steve, eyes squinting up at him from the few inches short he was.

"Yeah, something like that," Steve bit back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, raising his eyebrows.

Your date took a long look at him, gritting his teeth before glancing at you. As if he thought about it, he turned on his heel away from the two of you, waving an absent hand in your direction.

"You're not even that hot anyways," he yelled at you before angrily marching to his car. The door closed with a slam, tires screeching on the pavement before he swerved off in your direction, narrowly missing the two of you before Steve grabbed your shoulder, urging you out of the way.

The air was filled with the stench of burnt rubber and gasoline as the sound of his engine grew quiet as he sped off.

"Ouch," you whispered, grimacing at the burning of your arm and the comment he left you with. It shouldn't hurt as much coming from the biggest asshole of Hawkins, but the ache was still there.

"Are you okay?"

Steve's hand was still on your shoulder, rubbing small circles on the skin. The sleeve of your top was wrinkling under his touch, the thin material scratching at your skin. It was all too domestic for you, a new desperation filling your stomach to flee the situation.

Taking a step away from him, you fixed your hair, dabbed under your eyes, and tried to collect your composure.

"You don't have to act all nice to me, Steve," your voice was shaky as you felt as if you were under a microscope. You didn't have to look at him to recognize the confusion on his face.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, attempting to get closer again only to stand in place at the dramatic step you took back. "I'm not-I'm being a decent person right now, especially with what just happened. What?"

"Nothing just happened." You remained firm in your denial, it was the only way to maintain face.

He looked down at his shoes, awkwardly tilting his feet from side to side as he debated the situation. His hair was running wild in the wind that was just starting to pick up, his tattered grey hoodie with 'Hawkins Basketball' printed on the front rippled as he sighed deeply, faded denim on his legs lengthening him.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him no matter how much you wanted to flee the situation, him being the most appetizing thing that you've laid your eyes once since the first day you met him. It wasn't what you should've been thinking about after the events that occurred, but he was tempting you in a way that scared you a little.

"Why don't you come inside? I could take you home-"

Your eyes cut to him quickly, narrowing as he raised his hands in defense. He nodded quickly, clearing his throat to continue his next few sentences carefully.

"-Or I could call you a cab or... something," he finished, chewing on his bottom lip. You could see the nerves eating away at him, his eyes trying not to stare at you in your baby tee and short shorts, skin prickling with goosebumps. If he asked, you would tell him it was because of the weather, not him.

You let out a bitter laugh, "Like there's cabs on this side of town."

The only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing through the trees, a far child's laughter from the nearest house to you, a barking of a dog.

"Come on," he whispered, his hand leaving his pocket. Slowly, he reached up to grab your hand. You didn't know why you did, let him grab your fingers into his grip. There was a slight clamminess to his hands, his nerves showing dominance over his posture. "Please."

With a slight nod of your head, you let him lead you two his house, a few hundred feet away from the remnants of the dramatic scene. The entry way was grand and huge, something that had you giggling to yourself over how much money this kid seemed to have.

"Nice place, Steve," you muttered, allowing him to hold the door open for you, take your bag from your shoulder, place it on a table in the foyer. It was a little too domestic for you, even if you wanted to welcome it. "Bet you have a nice trust fund to match it."

"Ha." His eyebrows raised with dry humor even as his face stayed the same. Sensitive topic, you noted.

With his hand on the small of your back, he led you up the stairs and into his room, his grid work wallpaper screaming at you as soon as the door opened. You whistled long and low, taking an exaggerated look around the room, before you turned to face him, plopping down on the mattress.

You bounced on the plush comfort of it, your palms splaying out beside you as you felt his comfort beneath your fingers.

"Already taking me to bed, I see," you wiggled your eyebrows at him, small smirk coming up to the corners of your mouth. He rolled his eyes at you, his own smile coming up to his face as he closed the door behind him.

"There she is," he laughed, moving to sit next to you. He bumped your hip with his own as he gestured for you to make room for him.

You laid down back on his bed, your hands coming up to feel the mattress cover above your head. With the lift of your arms, you felt your abdomen become exposed, the cool air of his room hitting your skin. His eyes ran over your figure, not lingering on the exposure of your skin, but settling on your eyes. It was the most naked you had ever felt in front of someone.

"So..." One of your hands reached down to grab at the hoodie he adorned, slightly lifting it to show the tan skin underneath. "What am I here for, handsome?"

The flush in his cheeks came and went quickly, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

"You don't have to-" He began before you sat up to lean into his side. Your hand came to his cheek, feeling day old stubble underneath your touch. With the closeness, you could see the different shades of brown behind his eyes, warmth that you had yet to see in the men you slept with.

"What if I want to, Steve?" You whispered, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. He gulped, Adam's apple bobbing before leaning into the kiss you pressed to his mouth, his lips molting with yours.

He tasted as sweet as last time, only seemed to get better at kissing than your last touch. It was short and sweet, mouths moving into one as you began to run your hand down his abdomen. His chest was firm beneath your touch, his teeth were a dull tug at your bottom lip, tongue asking for entrance.

"Wait-" He pulled away from you, eyes fluttering open as a small whine left your lips. "Is this going to be like last time?"

An unfamiliar ache formed in your chest at his words, your eyes bulging slightly at the hurt on his face. It was almost like his words hurt you, the idea of him being hurt by the last time hurting you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you thought of what to say.

This could count as the first time a man left you speechless.

"I don't know what to... say," your hand left his body, your eyes looking everywhere but him. Everything in you wanted to run for the hills, look for that cab that he promised earlier.

He nodded, his own eyes wandering around his room. "I understand, maybe I should call some-"

"No," you said, turning to look at him as he went to raise off the bed.

He turned to look at you, glancing away every couple of seconds.

"No-don't... it won't be like last time," you said, cursing at yourself internally for the words that left your mouth. You didn't know what had gotten into you, maybe it was the promise of what was about to if you stayed a little longer and promised him something. He still looked unsure as you reached to grab his hand this time. "I promise."

"Are you lying to me?" He asked, placing his own hand on your cheek this time. His fingers smoothed the hair at your hairline, thumb running over the delicate skin. "Just to sleep with me?"

Shaking your head, your instincts screamed at you, no matter what your mind was set on.

"Promise."

You expected a clash of lips, but he came in soft and slow, nipping at your lips as the two of you moved to lay down on the bed. He was heavy over you, firm muscle and the broadness of his shoulders pining you down, pressing you into his bed.

Your hands snuck underneath his hoodie, feeling the expanse of his back under your fingertips, little bits of textured skin where you imagined his constellation of moles to be. In a swift movement and a brief separation of lips, he slid it off, revealing himself shirtless underneath.

You wanted to stare at him, run your hands over his chest, become familiar with each and every one of the beauty marks adoring his skin, but his lips proved to be more appetizing. The plush skin of them knew what they were doing, licking into your mouth and pulling at your own. He was languid in his movements, passionate kisses shared between the two of you as his hands tried to slip off of the shirt you wore, tangled up right beneath your chin as he didn't want to separate from you yet again.

Your bra exposed, he pulled away to press kisses to the globes of your boobs, sucking marks into the kiss. Blindly, his hand reached down to unbutton your shorts, fingers moving expertly as you helped take off the rest of your shirt, slipping it over your head. His free hand slipped into the other cup of your bra, toying with your nipple. You began to see stars, both of his hands and mouth busy.

With one hand dipping beneath the cotton of your panties, the other pinching your nipple slightly and his mouth nipping closer to your other one, you began to see stars. This couldn't have been the same nervous boy you saw a few months ago, his moves beginning to outshine your own.

A gasp left your mouth as his thumb caught your clit as his fingers began to dip lower, his index collecting the wetness of your cunt. It was a teasing motion, the way he teased dipping the tip of his finger in and switching back to running it along your wet seam.

Leaving your breast shining with his spit, he came back to your face, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You okay?" He asked, intently watching you fall apart beneath him. He had barely even touched you, but you were loving the way he made you feel.

Nodding, a moan fell from you as his finger pushed in further than he attempted before, a slight wiggle of the digit before he pulled it out again. He imitated the nod you gave him, a small smirk on his lips as he placed his hand on your forehead, thumb brushing across your eyebrow. You leaned into the touch, whining as his finger returned pressing all the way down to the knuckle.

He pumped it in once, twice before removing it all together, hand leaving your shorts.

"Good, baby, now take these off for me."

He saw the hesitation in your face as the word hit you, your eyes widening as you looked at him. You didn't give him or even yourself time to process it before you were kicking off the denim, waving your ankles as your shorts got caught. He laughed at your movements, unbuttoning his own jeans to ease up the pressure in his pants with his growing hard on.

Your underwear and bra followed suit, your nakedness feeling like so much in the room. Reaching for his pants, you wanted to see him naked, see him again.

"Tonight's about you," he said, moving you up the bed so you rested against his pillows. They were plush, your palms coming up to rest beside your head, as he settled over you. "My treat."

With a nod, you let him take over, let him press kisses to your body. He was treating you like you were a work of art, cherishing you with a trail of his love as he led down your body: a kiss to your right boob, then left, a kiss down to your belly button, a glance to you to make sure that you felt okay, a nod given to him. A kiss to your pubic bone, the spread of your legs wider before he settled down, thumb catching your clit.

He began small circles, leaning up on his elbows as his other hand ran up and down your slit. Looking down at him, he was focused on your cunt, eyes intently watching the wetness that began to pool more and more. He looked so casual, like he was filing his damn taxes as he stared down at you.

"Steve," you drawled out, hips twitching as the tease became too much. Glancing up at you, he gave a shift of his head before he leaned down to press a kiss to your folds.

It had you groaning, your eyes fluttering shut as his mouth made contact. As many men as you slept with, it had been a while since anyone had gone down on you.

He was just as slow and passionate as he was kissing you, his mouth making stake somewhere else. His tongue darting out to lick at you, kitten licks running up your folds, running over your hole, thumb still rubbing those damn circles into you.

You felt yourself dripping at the way he was working you, your fingers digging into the pillows around you.

"F-fuck."

He took it as encouragement, his tongue entering you. Moving one of your legs over his shoulder, he got closer to you, removing his thumb to replace it with his mouth.

A jolt ran through your spine as he sucked at you, loud slurping noises filling the room accompanied by your moans. Your hips were grinding down on his face, one of your hands reaching down to grip at his hair.

He was insatiable, tongue running flatly over you, fingers slipping inside to massage at your wet walls. He found that spot inside of you, spongy wall sucking him in even further. A few moans of his own sounded out against you, the vibration urging a new wave of wetness.

"Steve- I'm gonna-" you barely could warn him before you were pulsating around him, a gush of wetness soaking his mouth. He moaned even louder against your clit, the feeling of it having you pull him closer to your cunt.

He continued licking at you, another finger entering you as you fell apart. The over stimulation earned a yelp from you, your hips raising off the bed to get away from his tongue.

"St-steve, it's too much-"

He left you, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you peered up at you.

"That's all you got?" His smile was devious as he continued finger fucking you, curling them at just the right time. It felt like you were a teenager again with his fingers inside of you, your stamina keeping up like nothing ever before.

Rolling your eyes, you reached down to rub at your own clit, slightly wincing at the sensitive feeling.

"I need you," you whined, spreading your legs further.

He moved quickly before he was removing himself, towering over you while kicking off his jeans. It would've been comical if you weren't so horny, the way he was trying to hold himself up and tug his pants off, boner poking out so strong, you thought it was hurting him.

Once free, he reached around you, digging into his bedside drawer as he searched for something. A few curses left him as he came up short, items clattering around as his movements became more hurried. You could read his mind.

"It's okay, we don't have to use one," you said, placing a hand on his chest from where he hovered above you. Caught off guard, he looked down at you, confusion on his face.

"You don't-?"

"It's okay, Steve," you nodded at him, the gesture becoming a language between the two of you with multiple meanings. Your own way of trusting each other.

He returned to you, leaning on his elbow as he pressed a kiss to you. "I could find one for you, if you're unsure, I'm sure they're som-"

"Steve," you said, pulling him down for another kiss. "I promise it's okay."

With a look into your eyes, he got his confirmation, pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was slow as he reached down between you to line himself up with your entrance. Pushing in, you both groaned into each other's mouths at the stretch, your brains becoming clouded with each other.

It was a lot, bigger than you'd taken before, the girth of his cock making up for everything you've never had before. Getting choked up, you clawed at him, wanting to bring him closer than he was, even if it wasn't possible.

Pressing to the hilt, he couldn't wait before pulling out, pushing in again with a slight force that had you moving up the bed. You couldn't help the noises falling from your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked into you, one of his legs pushing up to lift your own up.

His mouth kissed every part of yourself that it could find, your head moving side to side as he cherished you. This was all too perfect, your chest full of an emotion you were quite unfamiliar with.

"Steve."

The tone in your voice had his hips stuttering, fucking into you a little quicker. You could tell he was close by the fast movement of his hips, jerks that threw off his rhythm, pushing into you a little too far, the press of your cervix that had your back arching with the twinge of pain. It was all too good though, the pain quickly merged into pleasure as his body covered your own.

"Fuck baby, you're so perfect."

His words had your back arching further, fingernails digging into the skin of his ass, pulling him even deeper.

"I could fuck you all day."

With a moan, you pulled your leg even higher, whining at the way his dark thatch of hair was rubbing against your clit. You saw stars behind your eyelids, his words only fueling the fire building in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm gonna make you mine, gonna cum all in you, make you mi-"

A high pitched whine left your mouth as you came around him, throbbing at the feeling of his dick deep inside. You would like to say it was the sex itself that made you tip over the edge, the feeling of him hitting your spot over and over. But the two of you knew that it was the promise of his words, the feeling of being wanted by him, needed by him hitting you in just the right spot.

Worked up and spent, you took his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his nose, then his forehead.

"Make me yours, baby," you whispered at him, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut and feeling his hips press into you once more before he paused, warmth filling you. You felt the twitch of his cock inside of you, throbbing deep as he filled you with his seed.

Groaning, he pulled out of you with a loud squelch that filled the air, one of his eyes closing in a grimace. He laid beside you, turning on his side as he stared at you.

You felt his eyes on you as you stared at the ceiling, feeling cock drunk to a whole different level. It should've had you feeling scared, but the only thing that you could feel was the warmth of him, comforting you.

His thumb rested on your hip, running small circles over the skin. The two of you watched his hand make the small movement, droplets of perspiration being wiped away.

"You could leave if you want," he whispered, voice breaking the quiet of the air. "I'm probably making you uncomfortable."

Looking up at him, you leaned up to press another kiss to his lips. His eyes found you again, shock behind the irises.

"I think I'm going to stay," you matched his low tone, smiling once his own came across his face. "I was playing hard to get at first, but now I promise I'll be hard to get rid of."

He made a dramatic face at you, a fake groan leaving his lips. "Ooo, talk dirty to me, baby."

You laughed at him as he leaned over you, pressing several kisses to your neck and chin, slathering you in his love. It still made you a little uncomfortable at the gestures, all of this a foreign concept to you. His touches began to feel a bit more like home to you, something that had been missing in all of the men that came before.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #smut #Steve Harrington smut #request #ugh I loved this one

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rubywithecat · 2 months

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“JjK men when you get wrong idea (dirty mind) of what they were talking”

Hello! It’s been a long time, u guys! I was really busy cuz preparing for my Japanese N4 exam. But have u guys heard about the song “Otaku hot girl”?! That’s so cooked and I can’t fcking let that song out of my head and those jjk edits all over my fyp?! That’s like never wanting to back to reality, loves!

Gojo Satoru

U were going on date with him and he was talking about the curses. U were analyzing his handsome figure and lost in your own fantasy about him. “Mine was this long” he said, expressing with his hand. U didn’t catch up what he was talking about so u had wrong idea, other meaning, about what he meant. Your eyes widened. “This long?? Urs?? Well considering your height, it’s supposed to” U replied, blushing. He busted in laughter. “Wait— what r u talking about, y/n? What u got in ur mind, huh?” He asked, still laughing. U got embarrassed. “What?! That was what u were talking about, Satoru?!” U defended. “Well, I wasn’t talking about what u were thinking, brat” he smirked. “But I like this side of u” He moved near u and whispered into ur ear “If I have to talk about what u thought, I would say mine is longer than that”

Kento Nanami

It was a business meeting with ur team and Nanami was one of them. Ur car was at the repair shop so he offered u a ride home. He is much older than u and u have a huge crush on him. U followed him from behind, silent and nervous, as ur heels sound is the only thing u both can hear. During ride, u pushed the nerve to talk to break awkward silence. “So…What do u usually do at home?” U asked, casually. That sounded silly and u just wanna scream of why would u even ask such childish thing! Will he gonna mock or smth? U thought. He just made a small smile. “I live alone so I do mostly that pleasures me” he answered, focusing on the road. “So like u do it alone or with some girl?” U asked, thinking why he would say such thing casually! “Huh? What do u mean?” He narrowed his eyebrows and u realized u embarrassed urself by getting dirty idea of what he actually meant. “Omg I’m so sorry! I thought—“ u blushed. “Dirty-mind huh? I didnt know that innocent looking of urs doesn’t match of ur mind, y/n” he looked at u with lust. “That turns me on” he said as he teased. “Wanna know what I do at home? Why not come with me hum?” He raised his eyebrows.

Toji fushiguro

U were helping Toji at the kitchen for dinner while other students waiting and talking at living room. “This roasted chicken looks tasty” u said u were slicing the veggies. “Ofc it is. Btw thank u for helping me out. Those brats at front would never” he tapped. “No problem. I enjoy cooking too, that’s why” U said, lWhat do I have to do with these sliced veggies, sir?”. “Spread the leg” he replied as he was making the soup. “I pardon u sir?!!” u said as ur eyes widened and surprised. He closed the gas and came to u. He could see lust and dirty thoughts in ur eyes as he stared down and tucked ur hair. “Sir I think it’s not good to do here…?” U said nervously. He smirked as switched and took a veggie bowl from u and sliced the chicken from its leg, layering with veggies. “How would slice this without spreading this fcking chicken’s leg?” He teased, “unless u were thinking smth else?”. “It’s nothing!” U were so embarrassed. “I didn’t know u have a thing for me, kid” he smirked. “Well unfortunately, those kids will have to starve a lil longer” he said as he pushed u to kitchen counter. “And it’s ur fault for that” he kissed ur neck.

Suguru Geto

“Is it only two of us?” U asked, wondering the empty classroom. “Yeah since tmr is holiday, others don’t seem to join our study group” he replied, reading a book. “I see” u said down as u opened ur book. U peeked a look at him and gosh how handsome one can be. U sighed and focused doing maths problem. “Ur so wet” he suddenly said. U thought u got caught peeking. “No im not!” U sensitively defended. “U are” he calmly replied. “Who tf r u thinking u r to accuse me like that? Ur being handsome doesn’t mean u can say that dirty to a girl?” U argued. He looked at u for a while and made a small laugh. “Ahaha…I mean the air conditioner is broken and it’s so hot here and ur sweating. Just look at urself” he said as u were so shy about how u acted. “U could have said more clearly, bastard!” U yelled, copping ur embarrassment. “Don’t worry I won’t let other know about ur dirty little mind” he teased as he winked at u. “I wonder how dirty that can be in bed” He’s true that ur so wet now.

I hope u enjoy this! Plz like and share if u could! Thanks a lot and I really appreciate every support! Luv u guys <33

#jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #geto x y/n #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk fluff #gojo headcanons

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valeriianz · 2 months

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Summary: Part 2 of my Hard of Hearing!Dream. Part 1 here! Dream struggles with his new disability and Hob tries to help... along with Dream's new friend, Jessamy.

Square/Prompt: A1 - Why Did You Do It?

Rating: T

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: human AU, deaf!Dream, angst, happy ending, established relationship

Fill for @dreamlingbingo! (thank you @mallory-x for the read through!)

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When Dream turned 30, he celebrated it in a crowded bar that doubled as an art gallery, close to his apartment. It was his favorite bar, because it was an eclectic gallery first, with a bar open for events. Luckily, there was a local exhibit on the night of Dream’s birthday and he knew it would be the perfect place to celebrate. This way, he could appease his friends who wanted to go out and drink and celebrate, and Dream could stare at art and make a quick escape if need be. It gave a chance for everyone to focus on anything else but him after the initial round of shots.

Hob never took his focus off Dream, though. Even when they would float away to opposite sides of the room, Dream would turn his head and find Hob staring at him, smiling at being caught before turning his attention back to the person he was in conversation with.

At that point, it had been two and a half years since Dream had told Hob about his diagnosis… that he would go permanently deaf. In that time, he did indeed completely lose his hearing in his left ear, but his right was still working pretty well. He had just gotten used to tilting his head slightly to the left so people would understand to talk directly into his good ear.

And Hob was still here. Patient, sweet, loving Hob. Who Dream secretly had a crush on probably since they were first introduced. They’d moved in together last year, and while there were some bumps in the road, complications that arose with moving in with a lover, Dream was surprised to find that he was… happy.

He couldn’t stand it, sometimes, how happy Hob made him. Even his friends had noticed how he smiled more, seemed to have a more positive outlook on life and even on his disability. And it felt natural, like Hob just brought out all the good traits about Dream, like they had been lying dormant and just needed the confidence, the reassurance that he was allowed to feel this way. This happy.

And then, 45 days after Dream’s birthday party, he woke up to Hob shaking him awake, because he was sleeping through his alarm that was apparently blasting through his phone.

But Dream couldn’t hear him. Or the alarm.

He watched with horrifying realization, as Hob’s lips moved, hovering over him, but no words came out.

So much for five years.

Hob had clocked Dream’s blank stare relatively quick, his lips shaping the letters of Dream’s name with a hand on his face, Hob’s brows pinched up and–

Dream cried.

He felt foolish for it. He knew this would happen eventually. He just thought he’d have more time.

Dream speaks with his audiologist the next day, with Hob by his side. Dream had wondered about hearing aids while he still had a modicum of hearing, but had been hesitant. His insurance barely covered them and, while hearing aids may have helped in the past, after several tests, his audiologist confirmed with Dream that now, they wouldn’t even be able to pick up background noise. They wouldn’t help at all.

Dream and Hob had left the office with defeat hanging heavy in the air. Mostly from Dream.

He’s not proud of the person he had been in the week following his permanent hearing loss.

But in time (and therapy), Dream was able to move on. And it really wasn’t so bad, once Dream accepted that this was his life now.

If he closes his eyes, he thinks he can still hear Hob’s voice, especially with his lips pressed against his throat, behind his ear, murmuring sweetness into his skin and sending vibrations into his skull. It’s one of the most calming things Dream has ever experienced; laying in bed with Hob, in the absolute darkness and absolute silence, his remaining senses heightened, it’s both relaxing and unexpectedly erotic. To feel Hob completely surrounding him, grounding Dream, warm and solid and safe, it lights Dream up from the inside and reassures him that everything would be okay.

And in time, Dream comes to appreciate the silence. It’s nice, it’s peaceful. Living in a large city, with constant chatter, cars honking and sirens blazing, used to be a sensory nightmare; that creeping, prickling feeling of overstimulation has vanished and now it’s just… nothingness.

It was scary at first, Dream would be a fool to not admit it; watching the world continue around him, people living their lives, living his own life, all in absolute silence. Not being able to hear the beep of the microwave, indicating when his food was done, or water coming out of the faucet while he washed dishes, or the sizzle of oil in a pan while cooking… little things that Dream had never really perceived whilst hearing them every day. All of that sound just– gone. Like hitting the mute button on a movie.

Dream tries to convince himself that he doesn’t miss the mundane noises, he could barely hear them anyway… but he often feels lost without them. So learning to welcome the quiet was the only way Dream could stay sane.

Though going deaf after decades of being able to hear (albeit poorly) and speak gave Dream the advantage of continuing to communicate in spoken English. He still has an inner voice, can still read lips very well, and so the communication gap with his friends and even strangers isn’t as wide as Dream had feared.

It makes learning sign language difficult. Dream at first did not take the lessons very seriously, especially with Hob being the only person to practice with, in those early days. Hob did help, though; he fumbles and signs broken ASL and Dream fumbles back. But it had been so easy to fall back on the habit of using his voice. But as months turn into a full year, Dream learns by trial and error that he realistically can’t continue traversing through a hearing world without sign language.

The hardest challenge he’d run into, for example… Dream never thought he’d need to prove his deafness.

Of course people get confused when he can speak perfect English, out in public spaces like a cafe or a bookshop, only to then turn around and seemingly ignore everyone around him. It is a strange experience, for Dream, to go around communicating as usual, speaking when he can’t even hear his own voice and reading lips. But he can’t be constantly on the lookout for anybody trying to get his attention. Watching belatedly as someone he had been exchanging dialogue with, roll their eyes and walk away in a huff. Dream truthfully has no idea how he might come off to a complete stranger who can’t realize that he’s deaf. Rude, perhaps. Or uncaring.

It’s enough to convince Dream to get fake hearing aids… he feels ridiculous wearing them, like he’s giving in to a social construct that only exists in his own head. But, annoyingly, while wearing them, the way people communicate and treat him improves exponentially.

Funny, that.

Hob, of course, notices.

“When did you get these?” He touches the little device in Dream’s ear, his fingers turning into a caress. “I thought aids didn’t work for you?”

Hob speaks while he signs, they both do, to help make the hand motions stick. Though Hob often slips up and signs exact English, not proper American Sign Language, which he’s doing now. It doesn’t help in the learning process, but it’s a start, and Dream has no leg to stand on when it comes to corrections.

Dream swipes his index finger across his nose.

“Fake.”

Dream offers no more explanation, turning a page in the book he’s reading. They’re sitting on the couch, Hob properly facing the TV, and Dream lounging sideways, his legs draped over Hob’s lap.

Hob taps the edge of Dream’s book, getting his attention once more.

“You’d rather put a sign on you that announces to the world you're deaf?”

Dream sighs, knocking his head back.

“I know I shouldn’t have to…” Dream starts, his fingers fumbling, a new sign of nervousness he never thought he’d had before. “But it might make things easier.”

“Things?” Hob finger spells, his hands coming down, palms up, in a sign of confusion.

Dream moves a hand to his mouth.

“Communication,” and then to his ear, “understanding.”

Hob’s brows furrow and Dream slowly looks back to his book.

Dream wonders if they’re thinking the same thing. Remembering how difficult it became, living together, after Dream lost his hearing permanently. Hob would forget that Dream couldn’t hear, which was frustrating enough, but the slip-ups were near constant in the beginning.

They’d get into arguments over it, a flame that Dream wasn’t proud to admit he’d always fanned. He hated that his hackles were constantly rising, always on the offensive, like Dream was expecting Hob to take the bait and fight back. That would, of course, spiral into meaningless fights over something stupid like leaving the laundry in the dryer for too long, or forgetting to pick up a particular ingredient they needed for dinner at the grocery store.

Dream was ashamed to admit he didn’t help in the situations, often coping out by just– not looking at Hob so he couldn’t see his lips moving or his awkward signing. He’d turn around and stomp away and Hob would be left to chase after him, hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around so they could communicate.

It got easier… Hob was so patient with Dream. He never got so angry he would give up. He always apologized, even when Dream was just being dramatic.

Hob knows by now that Dream would never take the easy route. And sure enough, Dream ditches the fake hearing aids. With them on, people started treating him with gloves on, or stare at him nervously, wondering how to approach. It’s frustrating and annoying– how Dream can’t seem to find a middle ground.

It takes unloading to his new deaf friends about Hob; seeking advice for how to temper these unexpected feelings of disappointment and changes in Dream himself… they never used to fight, before Dream lost his hearing. This is unknown territory for the both of them.

Dream had discovered the community in his city, for deaf people. He’d found a meetup online, after his therapist suggested looking into attending the weekly meetups.

As always, Dream was at first skeptical. His sign language was still spotty at best, and he wasn’t a social guy even when he could hear so. He wasn’t hopeful.

Luckily the deaf community in his city is more than accepting of him, patient when he slips and signs exact English. And when Dream is done airing out his grievances, they encourage patience with Hob. That having a hearing partner is always going to be a struggle, but Hob is clearly coming from a place of compassion and wants to learn. That’s more than can be said for most people.

Dream feels foolish, all the sudden, for his actions against Hob, looking sideways at Jessamy. She was one of the founders of these d/Deaf meetings, and they clicked immediately. Unlike most of their peers in the group, she too had been born hearing and then lost it due to illness. Her and Dream were a lot alike, though she was older and had been wading through this new world for over two decades. She was fluent in ASL, and didn’t even speak while communicating.

“It’s considered rude to speak here, during these meetups,” she had explained during Dream’s first time with the group.

Jessamy becomes something like a confidant for Dream. She too has a hearing partner, Matthew. The amount she and Dream have in common is almost frightening. But in time Dream discovers it’s nice… to be seen. To be understood. She helps Dream comprehend the beauty of the silence even more. And that they can still attend hearing events just as before.

So with her encouragement, a few months down the line, Dream and Hob join her and Matthew at a music festival. Jessamy excitedly points out interpreters several of the bands have on stage, and Dream feels a bit of relief. He can also feel the vibrations all around him from the loud speakers, though it’s not as pronounced as they would be in a venue with wooden floors; the earth beneath their feet grounds the pulsating bass lines to something dull and unrecognizable.

Dream’s not quite fluent enough in ASL to understand every word the interpreters use, especially at the speed they’re going in to keep up with the song, but he gets the gist. And he has to admit it’s… fun, doing this. He hadn’t been to a concert or music festival in almost five years, and spending it with both Hob and his new friends is nice. It’s easy to stay within their safe space and not feel pressured to speak with strangers or awkwardly ignore them; everyone here minds their own business and in time, Dream loosens up.

After finding available, good seats for the next band they’d all agreed on, Hob and Dream set out to the nearest vendor to grab drinks and snacks for the four of them, while Jessamy and Matthew hold down the fort, so to speak.

While standing in line, Hob asks if Dream is enjoying himself. And, surprisingly, Dream is. He says as much with a smile and taking a playful nudge from Hob.

As the line shrinks and they come closer to the counter, Dream’s gaze moves from the short menu taped to the window to the man taking orders. His lips move sluggishly and hesitantly, speaking with an accent that makes it difficult for Dream to parse. But it doesn’t phase him, what everyone wants is on the menu and the transaction should be simple.

Now, Hob could just place the order for him– for all of them, but Dream had been determined, lately, to converse in transactions like this himself. It was good practice not only for Dream, but also whoever was taking his order as well. To learn patience and practice his communication skills. It was a little nerve wracking, but for the most part it was easy. If a cashier or barista or medical professional had trouble exchanging words with Dream, well, that’s what he carried a pen and pocketbook around for.

The person in front of them moves to the pickup counter and Dream sees the man behind the counter call out what must be a, “Next!” but the way his lips move, it looks more like, “Nect!”

Dream swallows and signs as he speaks, to– hopefully– indicate how this would potentially be a one-sided conversation.

“Two orders of fries, one mac and cheese, three shots of Bacardi, one shot of vodka, and a lemonade, please.”

The man barely looks at Dream while he types the order into an iPad. Dream nods, mostly to himself, and looks down as he reaches into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

When he looks back up, the man is in the middle of saying something to him.

Dream’s brows wrinkle.

“Can you repeat that? I can’t hear you.”

After he speaks and signs, Dream offers up his card, assuming the man just told him the total.

But the man visibly sighs and leans forward a bit, his mouth opening widely.

Dream focuses but only manages to make out the words “fries,” “double,” and “which do you want?”

“Um…” Dream licks his bottom lip. “One more time? Slowly, please.”

With a truly agitated face now, the man moves his lips again, but as Dream studies them, hoping to fill in the words he missed, instead new words are added and Dream finds himself stumped.

“Fries, yes. And singles, for the shots,” he guesses.

The man types something into his iPad but looks again at Dream with a growing look of irritation in his gaze. Dream looks behind him and sees a line of customers, before facing the man again, once again catching him in mid speech.

“Hold on,” Dream grumbles, settling the card down and digging through his pocket for the pen and paper. “Clearly I am deaf and raising your voice is not helping–”

Dream nearly jumps as Hob steps up suddenly to the counter, almost getting in front of Dream.

They exchange a few words before finally Hob nods and hands the guy his own card.

Dream stands silent, his pocket notebook in his hand and blinking slowly at Hob, who gives him a sheepish smile over his shoulder before nodding again to the man and taking both their cards back as well as the receipt.

They walk to the pickup counter without exchanging a word, meanwhile something begins to burn the back of Dream’s neck, prickling down his arms and coiling in his stomach.

Dream tugs on Hob’s arm as they settle next to the mobile vendor.

“What just happened?” He doesn’t speak. Dream can’t find his voice right now.

Hob rubs the back of his neck, his gaze focused on something behind Dream.

“No french fries,” he signs without confidence. “Curly fries only.”

Dream blinks. The uncomfortable feeling in his gut tightening.

“Did you just order for me?”

Hob’s shoulders deflate, nodding.

Dream gapes like a fish for a few seconds, his eyes darting from Hob to the man that just took their order, and back.

“I don’t want curly fries. I hate curly fries. We could have gone to another vendor. You didn’t have to–”

Dream cuts himself off, balling his hands into fists and taking a long breath, closing his eyes, shaking his head.

Hob always did this.

It took a while for Dream to notice, how if they were together, Hob would finish a conversation for Dream. Would speed an uncomfortable situation along with an interjection or provide unnecessary context with a stranger “He’s deaf, sorry…” without consenting with Dream first.

When Dream realized Hob was doing this, he would go quiet, unsure whether or not to stop him or correct him in some way. Dream never knew exactly what to say. Did Hob think Dream was incapable of handling tricky conversations himself? Did he think Dream was a hassle?

When Dream opens his eyes Hob’s hands are out, placating, his eyes apologetic.

“Why do you do that?”

Hob blinks. “What?”

Dream’s heart rate is steadily rising, his fingers shaking slightly.

“Make my decisions for me.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” Hob starts, his own signing gone fumbly. “I thought I was helping.”

“Yes. That’s the problem…” Dream starts, finally speaking again and letting his hands fall to his sides, his brain struggling to interpret correctly.

“What do you mean?” Hob asks.

“You don’t need to rush me out of an uncomfortable situation,” Dream starts again, his hands gesticulating uselessly. “If I’m communicating with someone whom I can’t understand, we can figure it out. They will learn. They need to learn.”

Judging by the way Hob is nervously looking around, Dream’s volume is surely rising. But he finds he doesn’t care.

“I’m not this thing you need to handle with gloves. Let me see a problem through until the end. No matter how long it takes.”

Dream is breathing heavily, he realizes, sucking in a gulp of air.

“Of course not.” Hob finally speaks, forgetting to sign. “I'm sorry.”

Hob’s eyes are welling up with tears and it somehow makes Dream more agitated, more words stumbling from his mouth without his permission.

“Then stop treating me like a burden!”

Dream turns and walks away.

It’s foolish, and childish. And as Dream stomps away, his own vision becoming blurred with tears, he knows it’s not just this moment that’s made him snap. It’s the culmination of events from the past year of being fully disabled. He hates that he can’t hear. He hates this adjustment period. He wishes he’d been born deaf so at least this hurdle, this life change wouldn’t feel so mountainous.

Dream wipes his eyes shamefully as his pace picks up to a run, pushing past people blindly. Regret screams in his bones with every step he makes, with every inch he puts between Hob and him. His chest aches with the urge to turn around and apologize, but he shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t!

Dream’s shoes clumsily connect with the dirt underneath him, his face becoming hot and, as he rounds the corner of an unoccupied stall, Dream collapses to the ground and allows the tears he’d been fighting back to fall freely, a sob choking in his throat.

He grips his hair as he cries, his face stuck between his knees. The past year flashes before Dream’s eyes, all of the hardships, the doctors’ visits, the fights with Hob. He didn’t deserve Dream. All of his kindness and patience and for what? For Dream to snap on a dime and expect too much out of him all at once?

Dream groans loudly, agitated at himself for seeing the problem; him, and unsure how to change. He knows he has a right to his feelings, but communicating them was so difficult. He’s becoming impatient with himself, with his slow learning curve, with Hob’s complacency to stay in their safe little bubble and treat Dream like this breakable thing.

Dream couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but his sobs had stifled down to sniffles, and by the time he felt a hand gently land on his shoulder, Dream was doodling shapes in the dirt.

His head snaps up and finds Jessamy staring back at him, her brows creased in worry.

“Hey…” She’s bent over, her hair falling in her face. “What’s wrong?”

Dream ducks his head, shaking it, officially feeling foolish for running away. The regret he’d felt for leaving Hob starts up again and he suddenly feels so scared. At this rate, Hob would break up with him. Surely he was getting sick of Dream’s dramatics, him lashing out.

“Hob and I never fought…” Dream starts, his hands moving sluggishly. “... when I was hearing.”

Jessamy plops on the ground in front of Dream.

“It’s me,” Dream continues. “I’ve become so… sensitive, since going deaf. I feel like, sometimes, Hob treats me like a child. Like he wants to wrap me in bubble wrap. It’s so infuriating– I’m not some helpless thing that can’t figure things out!”

“No, you’re not…” Jessamy starts, reaching a hand out and giving Dream’s knee a shake.

“It is OK to feel like this. You’ve only been deaf for a year…” her brows come up encouragingly. “The transition is tough, but it will get easier, in time.”

Dream nods solemnly, tracing lines in the dirt again. Jessamy waves her hand to get his attention once more.

“And you’re not alone, you know.” She smiles gently. “You got me and Matty–” she huffs a laugh at the look Dream gives her. “... and the entire gang to support you.”

Dream knew she meant everyone at their d/Deaf meetups and offered her a small smile. She’s right, of course. Despite how withdrawn and antisocial Dream had been in the beginning, even now still creeping out of his shell, the people he’d surrounded himself with had been nothing but kind and accepting and willing to listen and connect in ways Dream hadn’t thought possible.

“Hob is still around, too,” Jessamy interrupts his thoughts, her brows lifting knowingly. “That man loves you so much; you should see the way he looks at you– it’s disgusting.”

Dream manages to crack a real, genuine smile at that, especially with the way Jessamy is fluttering her eyelashes and putting on a spot-on impression of Hob’s puppy dog eyes.

He pulls a hand through his hair and looks down again. Images of Hob’s easy smile flashing behind his eyes, his hands caressing Dream’s skin, his strong arms lifting him in a hug, his sweet lips tracing the lines of his jaw and ear, murmuring sweetness that Dream could no longer hear but feel instead. Could plainly see Hob’s devotion and affection in their everyday lives together, how he would always start the coffee in the mornings so Dream would wake up to the smell of it. How Hob would leave the hallway light on during the day so Dream would come home– late from work– and have something to see by. How he always offered to help with dinner prep, chopping veggies or stirring something, often using the excuse to crowd Dream against the counter and kiss Dream silly.

“That man would pull the moon down for you, I hope you know.”

He would, Dream realizes, swallowing thickly. And he would do the same for Hob.

Dream nods, wringing his fingers out as Jessamy continues on.

“Remember, this is a learning experience for him, too.”

Her painted nails move with perfect fluency, always slowly for Dream to understand. And as one thumb comes down from her forehead to meet the thumb on her other hand, Dream nods again, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her lips curl sweetly, gaze flicking sideways suddenly.

She nudges her head. “Speak of the devil…”

Dream looks too, and finds Hob approaching them.

He curses to himself, wiping his eyes with more urgency and catching the almost giggle that Jessamy makes.

“I’ll leave you two alone?”

Dream takes a steadying inhale, pushes his shoulders back, and makes a weak fist and nods it back and forth.

Jessamy stands just as Hob steps up to them, his eyes guarded yet hopeful. She makes a sign of texting before stepping around Hob with a clap to his shoulder.

Hob watches Jessamy leave before meeting Dream’s gaze again, but says nothing. His eyes never leave Dream as he crouches down and takes a seat next to him, leaning back against the wall.

Dream stares back, studying the lines of Hob’s face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, which are shiny and puffy, like he’d been sobbing, too.

“I’m sorry,” Dream whispers, pushing a fist into his chest.

Hob sighs, his shoulders going with it. He speaks as he signs.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Dream shakes his head. “You’re always the one apologizing for my outbursts–”

“But you were right,” Hob interjects, his eyes pleading. “Dream, can I say something?”

Dream’s heart leaps into his throat, swallowing harshly. He nods.

“You need to tell me…” Hob’s gaze shoots up to the sky, as if searching for the words for his hands to convert. “... the first time, when I do something that makes you uncomfortable. So I can remedy it immediately.”

Dream takes a deep breath as Hob continues, his hands moving slowly but surely.

“Don’t let bad things fester and build. Talk to me.” His hand comes to his mouth in a motion similar to how Dream explained on the couch months ago. “Communicate. If you don’t correct me in the moment, I’m bound to repeat it.”

He takes Dream’s hands, his thumbs tracing circles over the knuckles.

“I want…” Hob awkwardly makes the simple motions with his hand still clasped with Dream’s, making him bite back a smile. “... to do this right.”

Dream takes another breath that rattles, his eyes prickling at the corners.

Hob’s eyes have gone watery, too, his smile lopsided.

“OK?”

Dream nods. “OK.”

Hob rises up on his knees just as Dream does, falling into each other. Dream squeezes his arms around Hob’s shoulders, tucking his nose into Hob’s hair and breathing in the scent of him, letting it envelop him and calm him.

Hob’s lips brush the skin behind Dream’s ear, pressing a kiss there, before he feels them move.

I love you.

#dreamling #dream/hob #dreamling bingo 2024 #sidenote: yes this is an american AU #because i know ASL and not BSL #yes im that simple lol #hoo! i made it!#my first fill letsagooo #this one kicked my ass sheesh #my writing

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

End Game 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: 😘

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s another tap on the window. You shake your head, ignoring it. Go away, go away, go away. Another comes, this one louder and you turn, ready to shout at him to leave you alone. Why is he there? Why is he bothering you?

You spin and stop short. A little boy smiles from just over the little ledge and his dad stands behind him, his hand hovering at the window. You blink and move forward to slide open the glass. As you do, you peer around, searching for the bearded man in his button-up. He’s gone. You think. You hope.

“Sorry, I was cleaning,” your voice tremors before it evens out, “how can I help you?”

“What do you want, kiddo?” The man puts his hands on his son’s shoulders, “rocky road?”

“I want choccy!” The kid demands.

“Double chocolate or chocolate chip or chocolate brownie?” You prompt, smiling as your eyes continue to rove around, waiting for any glimpse of that man.

“Double,” his dad answers for him, “I’ll have a scoop of praline and cream.”

“Sounds great? Bowl or cone?”

“Sugar cones are fine,” the man replies as he takes out his wallet.

You go through the transaction on habit alone. The man seems slightly agitated by your twitchiness but still drops a tip in the jar. You thank him and lean out the window to see along the side of the booth. Is he gone? Really gone?

You can’t shake his shadow. You just can’t believe he would show up like that, then act so casually. Like you’re old friends. You chatted for one year and you didn’t even know who he really was. That’s not a friendship, that’s just strange.

You don’t close the window. You’re already nervous about having it closed for so long. Your manager takes complaints very seriously and you can’t exactly afford to drop one job when you’re considering a second.

You check the time. Right. A couple hours. You can make it through. If you see him again, maybe you’ll call the cops. Won’t that be funny to explain? Maybe he could use the humiliation of fessing up to his betrayal.

You don’t feel better about the back-up plan but at least you have one. Sort of. It all depends on if they even believe you.

The after-dinner crowd begins to burgeon and you find yourself forgetting the unwanted customer for a whole line of new ones. You scoop and scrape and dish out the flavours with a faulty smile. When you’re through the rush, the tip jar is close to full. At least you had a fruitful night.

You hope that the locals scared Andy away. Or your reaction. You don’t think he came all that way expecting that. Surely, he wouldn’t bother if he thought you were just going to turn him away. Yet why would he expect anything else?

You really don’t understand.

As your shift comes to an end, you’re anxious to lock up. Leaving is another matter. You can’t help but look over your shoulder as you twist the key from outside. You turn your back to the wall and wearily wade through the dark. You won’t be caught off guard again.

You take a different route than usual. You don’t know why but it seems like a clever idea. You keep in the sheen of the street lights. You keep your phone in your hand just in case. You remember all those precautionary safety presentations they had on campus about walking home alone.

You let out a sigh as you reach your street. Your grandmother’s house sits nestled behind the overgrown walnut tree. You feel safer in sight of it.

You slow as you sense something off. There’s a car you don’t recognise. An SUV that doesn’t fit in the neighbourhood. He wouldn’t be there. Then you think of the flowers. He knows where you live.

Your name makes you yipe as a shadow emerges from the silver vehicle. Your feet tangle and you stumble. Keep going or go back. Either way won’t be an escape. You stop and face him wide-eyed.

“Please, leave me alone,” you beg.

“Honey, please, I’m not here to do anything but apologise,” Andy strides across the street and you can’t help but shy away. “Won’t you just hear me out?”

“No, I told you--”

“And I sat and listened. Don’t you think you owe me the same courtesy?” He insists.

“But-- I already told you, Andy, what you did--”

“I know what I did,” he breathes, “I think about it constantly. Every second of every minute of every day. I think of you and I can’t get you out of my head because I know it was wrong. I can’t stand that I hurt you so bad. You don’t deserve that. After everything you’ve gone through--”

“I only told you those things because I thought you were someone else,” you hiss, “I can’t... I can’t forget the lies. I can’t move on, alright? And honestly, I don’t think we have much in common. We’re in different places.”

“That didn’t matter before. We got along--”

“Because you--- you were pretending to be a teenager,” you bluster, “how old are you? Can’t you see how insane this all is?”

He winces and his jaw ticks. In the glint of the streetlight, his eyes sockets are dark pools and his broad shoulders seem even wider, his figure even taller. You lean back on your heel and sway, looking towards you grandmother’s house.

“It’s not... I never meant to hurt you.”

“You did,” you shrug, “Andy, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. We were just gaming, shooting the shit, that’s whatever. The best thing you can do is get help. Talk to someone.”

“I want to talk to you,” he says.

“A professional,” you insist, “I’m nineteen. I can’t help you.”

“But you did,” he snips.

“Not how you need to be helped, okay? I’m asking you to stop. Go. It’s over. It never really was. I was friends with Jacob, not Andy. You chose that.”

He hangs his head and heaves. You stand in silence. Slowly, you sidestep and flinch as he mirrors you. He reaches for you and you back away from him. He retracts and pushes his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry, sorry, I just...” he croaks, “honey,” that word, again, “if I get help, will you talk to me? If I go, get some pills or something, will you just give me a chance?”

You huff and shake your head, “Andy, there’s lots of people online you can game with. People your own age. Maybe you should try the discord--”

“No, not them. You.”

“Andy,” you plead, “I’m... no. No. You can’t do this. You can’t just show up and make me listen. You can’t send me flowers and come to my work and force me to be your friend. Alright? That’s not... healthy.”

“I wanna be better. For you. That’s what I’m telling you,” he steps closer until you’re against the prickly hedges. “I wanna do everything for you. I can make your life so much better. Honey, don’t you want that? Don’t you want someone who wants you? For once?”

You’re quiet, stunned by the insinuation, of the truth in it.

“That’s cruel,” you whisper.

“I don’t mean—not like that. I only, I’m trying to show you what I can give you--”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you sniffle, “or anything to do with you. Can’t you get that through your head?”

He staggers back as if he’s been struck. He shakes his head and stammers, “what-- why? Why not?”

You blink, long and hard. How many times do you need to repeat yourself? You roll your eyes and turn on your heel. You brace yourself for him to follow but he doesn’t.

His shadow looms just along the edge of your peripheral and as you turn into your grandma’s yard, you glance back. He watches you but stays where he is. He just stands there. You shiver and raise your phone, lighting up the screen, hoping he gets the idea. You could call the police.

He takes a step back then pivots sharply. He crosses the street back to the SUV and the door slams behind him. You jump in your shoes and quickly scramble up the walkway to your grandma’s front door. You’re hoping that’s the last time you have to tell him to go away. Next time, you might just have to be mean about it.

🎮

You try to sleep. It comes in shallow spurts that leave you more and more tired. You don’t have a shift, thank god, but you’re also not so grateful to be left without distraction. You give in to futility as the sun peers in between your curtains and you groan at the dull weight in your temples.

You creep out quietly to make a coffee. Just instant powder so the machine doesn’t wake your grandma. You go back to your room and sit in a groggy daze, waking yourself with the warmth of each sip. You sigh out and hang your head.

There was enough to figure out a week ago. Now, you don’t know how many problems you truly have. You’re not so certain last night got the point across, especially after the first two times didn’t work. Third time’s the charm, right? Besides, how much effort are you really worth?

You can’t just sit still. Your eyes keep itching to look at your Switch, a now cursed item in your collection. You finish the coffee and change out of your pajamas into a pair of sweats and faded tee. You’ll catch up on some chores, keep yourself busy and grandma happy. Besides, you’re not brave enough to venture outside just yet.

You grab your head phone and pop them over your ears and search through your phone for your cleaning playlist. You’ll start with the living room. Give it a sweep and a mop, wait until grandma’s up to do the vacuuming. Dishes next and the kitchen. Scour the fridge for the forgot produce in the back and take out the trash. You have more than enough to do.

You wipe off the end tables then the coffee table, sorting the clutter and clearing the trash. You dust the television and the shelves of knickknacks and the ornamental fireplace against the wall. No matter what you do, there’s always a slightly dingy smell to the place.

When the living room is decent, you move into the kitchen. You turn up your music and drown out the house around you. Dishes, floors, cupboards, cobwebs... You feel the effort in your muscles as you stretch out the kinks from your pitiful sleep.

You’re entirely obliviously to the existence of others until your grandmother appears with a scowl, pinching your arm as she glowers in her house robe. You glance at the time. You’ve been at it for a few hours. You pull your headphones off your ears and pause your music with a tap of the button on the cord.

“Oh, morning, do you want some coffee?” You offer.

She’s unimpressed by your efforts as she crosses her arms. It is kind of early for her to be up. Her nostrils flare as she sniffs.

“You better make a full pot for your visitor,” she sneers.

You blink at her and scoff, not understanding her, “visitor?”

Her eyes are narrowed and her lip curls, “the one who’s been pounding on my door while you’ve been listening to your racket.” She jabs an ear of your headphones, “damn woke me up.”

“I don’t... who?”

“Says you knew his son. The dead one,” she shakes her head, “sad, I suppose.”

You stare at her. You hear movement in the front room, just on the other side of that wall. You glance through the archway and see a shadow shift. She’s not lying. How else would she know?

“What did he tell you?” You breathe.

“More than you, eh,” she snaps, “what are you doing gaping at me like a fish, I need a damn coffee. Too early for this nonsense. A dead kid, some stranger in my front room... what trouble are you getting into?”

“N-nothing, grandma, I don’t... get him out of here. I don’t know him--”

“He knows you. Knows your name. Says you and his boy were at school together. ‘Splains the flowers, I guess. Condolences, not that you cared, did ya?” She shakes her head, “you always were off in your own little world. Well, I’m not doin’ your dirty work for ya. You ain’t gonna be your mother if I can help it so you want him gone, you tell him you didn’t give a damn about that dead one.”

You frown. You don’t understand why she’s so callous. She’s never shown any concern about anything but her books. It’s not your fault your parents didn’t want you. Or that she doesn’t either. You only ever begged for her attention, for a sliver of her approval.

You blow out between your lips. You won’t argue. There’s no use in it. Besides, it’s a small house, you know he heard all that, that he knows you’re on your own. Maybe that’s why he came all this way. Because he knows you have nothing.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #end game #defending jacob

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katz-rambles · 2 months

Note

Hi ! Could we have a childhood friends to lovers ViktorxReader please ? 🥰 I am CRAVING for new works

Yess!! I love this trope it's sooo cute!!

2k words, so I hope you enjoy, Anon!

(fluff, gn!reader, reader is a professor, making out, getting caught, Viktors a bit of a tease (when is he never though), I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

When your family left the under-city, you knew everything would change. You were glad that it happened, it opened a whole bunch of doors for what you could become when you grew into an adult. But it also meant leaving your old life behind, one of the things you still think about to this day. Your heart aches when you think about the people you knew, you just hope that they ended up in a good place. When the shimmer trade spiked, you thought you'd never see any of the people you knew ever again, most of them probably either succumbed to the drug, or was killed during the many times the enforcers went down. You didn't like to think about it, but it's the harsh reality of Piltover.

Now you're walking the halls of one of the most esteemed universities inside of piltover, not as a student, but as a professor. You climbed your way to the top, and you know that your family is proud of you. They're the only reason this became possible, so when you got offered, you jumped at the chance. You're not complaining either, it's a well paying job with good benefits.

The day seemed to be going by incredibly slow, each hour felt like a year. You had a pile of tests on your desk that you had to mark, you've gotten through about half of them. But there's only so much marking someone can take before you feel like ripping your hair out.

So, instead of ripping your hair out, you decide to go on a coffee run and get some fresh air. You've been inside your office for so long, you're surprised you're still standing. One of the downsides to being a professor.

The walk to the Cafe down the road from the university isn't a long one. It's about three minutes, so long enough that you can get some well needed fresh air, but not long enough that you're regretting your decision.

When you reach the university, hit coffee in hand, you run into one of your former students, Jayce Talis. He gives you a friendly wave and comes up to you, “hey, professor. How's your day been?” He asks, awkwardly trying to make small talk and you have to cover your smile by pretending to clear your throat. “It's been well, thank you for asking. How's yours been?” You smile at him, not wanting to seem impolite by just ending the conversation there. He shrugs and sighs, you get the feeling.

Just when you're about to ask a question someone calls Jayce over, and when you both look over you're met with the sight of someone who you thought died long ago, but there he is, standing right in front of you, his cane in hand. You've heard of hextech, you're not in your office that much, and you've heard that Jayce didn't do it alone, but you never knew who his lab partner was. You also know that Heimerdinger has an assistant, but you were never able to catch said assistant's name. But you expected everything and anything, but him. You could have sworn he was dead.

“Viktor,” you manage to get out, although it's been years since you've last seen him, the memories you two made together as children stay fresh in your mind. Plus, he's incredibly attractive, everything from his overgrown hair to the way he leans on his cane, still managing to be taller than you, though not by much. It all had your mind swarming. His eyes rake over you before he looks back to your eyes, “Milý,” he breathes, a faint smile on his face as he continues, “you’re.. ehh.. hi.” He chuckles, standing a bit straighter on his cane. Before either of you can say anything else, Jayce buts in, “I hate to ruin a good moment, but the council wants to see us, Viktor.” Viktor nods and gives you one last nod before limping after Jayce.

Seeing someone who you hadn't seen in a good decade or so was not on your bucket list. You sit down in the chair behind your desk and lean back, letting your head just barely dangle off the back of the chair. You bring your hands up and rub your face, taking a deep breath and groaning. The sound is muffled by your hands. You sit back up again and sigh, you shouldn't feel this way. But you can't deny the way that you felt your heart race when you saw him again, he has such a boyish charm that just pulls you in, the same as is it did when you two were kids. You just chalk it up to a shock factor, you haven't seen him in years. You're just shocked, that's what you tell yourself.

The whole day all you can think about is him, you almost feel giddy, almost like a schoolgirl again. You take a breather, you've made a good amount of progress on the tests so you can afford a quick walk. Plus you have a class soon, and your classroom is on the other half of the university, and you've still got to set up your notes, you internally groan at the thought of giving another lecture. This is your fourth today.

When you finally reach the classroom, the professor that was using the room before you is just finishing cleaning up. You opened the door, only to be met with Viktor and Jayce, and then Heimerdinger soon after. You give a polite nod to Heimerdinger, and smile at Jayce and Viktor. You take your bag off and grab your notes, placing them on the table in front of you, before speaking up, “I thought your lecture ended a while ago, what are you still doing here?” You try and make your tone seem polite enough to cover up the, almost, rude question.

It's Jayce that speaks up first, “Heimerdinger thought it would be a good idea for us to sit in for one of your lectures, since the subject your an expert in is arcane.” You nod and chew the inside of your cheek. You're an amazing talker, and can easily give an hour long lecture, but with Viktor there, you feel anxious at the thought. Although it makes sense, hextech deals with arcane and what better person to listen to than someone who's an expert in it. You try and finish setting up without letting your mind wander too much, but your eyes keep on drifting from the papers in front of you to Viktor. When you look over at him, you find him already staring and he quickly looks away from you.

Now it's just a matter of waiting, you have ten minutes until your class starts so why not help Jayce and Viktor with their problems. You let them, mainly Jayce oddly enough, to ask you any questions they may have and you answer them to the best of your ability. Soon enough your class starts and you have to push away the temptation of staring at Viktor the whole time. Though, a few times you caught him, out of the corner of your eye, looking at you, and you embarrassingly stumbled over your words those times. You swear you saw the ghost of a smirk on his face at your reactions. Everything about him is so damn enticing, it's infuriating. How can one man be so wonderfully perfect, it doesn't make sense to you.

After your lecture, you're leaning over your desk, your mind swarming with thoughts, some not as innocent as you'd like.

When you're met with a hand on your back that has you letting out an embarrassingly loud yelp. Lo and behold, Viktor’s standing right behind you, with a smirk on his lips. “You seem awfully.. eh.. jumpy today, is everything alright?” He asks, moving his face closer to yours, and your heart is racing so fast you're convinced it'll jump out of your chest. His hand on your back moves lower until he rests it on the curve of your hip, gently squeezing it. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired.” You sigh, doing your best to not stutter or hesitate on your words. Viktor chuckles, the sound is something you'd pay to hear again, and moves his face closer to yours again. “Well, we can't have one of the best professors sleeping on the job. Now can we?” If it weren't for the teasing lift to his words you'd think he was actually concerned, but you both know that you're he's not actually. He almost immediately caught onto your lie.

You have to crane your neck at an, almost, uncomfortable angle to be able to see his face. You have to loft your face up for your neck to not be strained too much and you unintentionally bring your faces closer together. In the moment everything feels heightened, you're more aware of him. The hand he has on your hip feels heavier, you can feel the heat coming from his body from the proximity of you two, and you can smell him, a wonderful scent mixed with oil from the lab, the salty smell of the bay, and the knee-weakening scent of his cologne. Right now, everything about him feels intoxicating.

His hand lifts from your hip and to your back, carefully nudging you to turn around so you two are fully facing each other. He then places his hand on your chin to lift your face up, once again. He lets go and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest before speaking, in such a quiet tone you almost didn't hear him, “do you feel that?” Under your palm you can feel each beat of his heart, it's fast, probably just as fast as yours is. All you can muster is a nod. “That's what you're doing to me.” He sighs and brings his face closer to yours, the sound of his words mixed with the tone of his accent is something you're slowly becoming addicted to.

You bring your free hand up to hold his face, your finger traces his cheekbone and then you rest your palm on his face. “Good.” You smirk and his eyes flick down to your lips, and you take the hint, closing the gap between you two. He presses you against the desk and reciprocates the kiss, just as eager and desperate as you are. Each second that passes by feels like an eternity, and you hope it never ends. You've wrapped your arms around his neck and his free hand is resting on your hip. You're the one to pull away first with a quick gasp for air. Viktors face has a red flush to it and you swear you fell deeper in love right then and there.

“I've waited so long to do that, when you left for the top-side the only thing I regretted was not telling you how I felt.” He chuckles, stroking your hip, and you smile and lean in to kiss him again, this time it's him who closes the gap. His lips against yours feels right, you've kissed other people, men and women, but none have felt as right or as good as this. It's a bit messy, and rushed, but it feels right. You slide your hand back down to his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm is something that has you feeling giddy. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer to him. The moment, unfortunately, had to come to an end, the sound of the door opening, not only were you two caught but it reminded you that you two were inside a classroom, thankfully it wasn't a student who caught you, just an incredibly shocked Jayce. You look at Jayce and then back at Viktor, who looks just as shocked as Jayce, and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. “This is a place of learning, you two!” Jayce scoffs and throws his hands up, and Viktor groans, taking a few steps back.

“Good thing we're learning then, or we were learning.” Viktor teases, giving you a quick wink before going over to Jayce who looks even more shocked than before, he looks at you and then back at Viktor before groaning in defeat and chasing after Viktor. You're not sure what's going to happen between you and Viktor next, but you're sure that, whatever it is, it will be amazing.

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