#*sigh* how the tables have turned. how much i hated him in dai bc i knew he was a filthy liar even before his reveal

[treviso-nights]

i like my men broken and bleeding (solas) with an incredibly tragic backstory (solas) that only i am privy to (solas) because the idea of eternal loneliness is more horrifying than the idea of finally opening up to someone (solas) even if doing so makes them want to be sick on the cold, hard ground (solas) before they inevitably realize that we are stronger together (solas) and continue to struggle for dominance in the never-ending abyss of 'i love you and that love has destroyed me' (solas!!!)

[bratisland]

Soldier Boy x Male Reader frotting h/c’s

wc: 1.3k

warnings: (1) slur lol, not proofread

a/n: i havent written in MONTHS bc of my uni exams and english isnt my first language but i really wanna promote my homosexual soldier boy propaganda so, sorry if its not good lol, my request ''rules" are on my pinned

*

He has been with men before, well, it was at the first Herogasm so, to him; it doesn’t count. He was high on drugs, alcohol and sex, he isn’t a homo, he really isn’t.

So why in the fucking hell you just looking at him makes him feel some type of way? He won’t say how he feels, not in a million fucking years, he isn’t a fucking faggot it’s just- you look good for a man, that’s all there’s to it.

He’s most likely just pent up after being revived, his dick is just looking for anything to cum into. So he seeks out women, not like its ever been hard for him. It does relax him somewhat physically but his dick always stays so fucking hard, he bites his lower lip in frustration as he fists cock to completion; with how you would look on your knees, your mouth full of his cock…and that actually helps hell of a lot more than actually fucking a woman. He is so fucked.

It doesn’t really help how much you fucking look at him, normally he would just call out your bullshit but just looking at you makes his chest feel heavy, his cock stiffen and his face distorts into a scowl. Anyone looking from outside thinks that he fucking hates you so much, Butcher says to not concern yourself with it, the fucker’s old and you being queer is probably what’s got him like this. You’d wanted to stand up for yourself but you really don’t want to be torn apart by a supe who hates your fucking guts according to everyone.

It happens so fucking randomly, you’re left to babysit his old ass as the rest of the boys go out to do something– you couldn’t care less. Right now, you had more pressing matters. Like how his gaze doesn’t feel so… cold anymore. He’s been eyefucking you all day! You let out a big sigh as your clammy hands reacher for your glass, “Hey kid,” soldier boy starts and you’re so startled that he adressed you directly for the first time since you’ve met; you spill the water over yourself.

You expect a chuckle, some snarky remark or even a slur, you don’t expect his eyes drawn to your sweatpants then back to your face again, “How do you…” he clicks his tongue in annoyance with himself and the way you’re looking at him- seriously stop- “How do you… people have sex?” you let out a snort despite yourself, what the fuck is this moment you’re having?

“Like, gay sex?” He huffs in annoyance as he leans more onto the table, his relaxed demeanor gone, “obviously you fucking idiot, what else?” you roll your eyes, getting up to grab some napkins to at least dry yourself off a little, you don’t miss the way his eyes drift to your ass, you don’t point it out, “depends, some couples have strict top and bottom roles, who gets dicked down and who does it,” You don’t hear how he gets up from his chair, “some couples like to switch it up, some don’t care and do what they want to, penetration isn’t the only way t…” you’re cut off by the feel of hands caressing the sides of your thighs, your head snaps to look behind you, too look at him.

He raises his eyesbrows as if you’re the one that’s groping his thighs and ass, “dude, what the fuck are you doi…” you’re cut off as he groans (in annoyance, obviously) and turns you around, caging you between him and the kitchen counter. “What the fuck does it look like i’m doing? You’re gonna get us off, so shut the fuck up and–” his hand slides down your damp sweatpants, “stroke and touch it while you can.” 

You want to say something, do something, you really do, but look, he’s a supe and he can break you in half with one hand and he’s hot. Plus you have not gotten any action since you joined the boys, also, being soldier boy’s first proper gay awakening? That is fucking hilarious. So you do as he says and stay still and let your sweatpants drop down, of course he pulls this shit when you’re going commando.

You hear the way his breath hitches at the sight of your cock and fuck it gives you such an ego boost, yeah you’ve got a pretty dick that’s also getting harder by the minute just because he’s giving it an ounce of attention. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the infamous soldier boy’s dick, standing up in attention just because of a “fruit bowl” (his words) of a man, which in this case, is you.

He looks at you, irritation clear in his eyes as you gawk at his cock, yes it’s big and yes your reaction gets him even harder but fuck he just wants to get off at this point, “you gonna help both of us out or stand there with your mouth agape, tinkerbell?” that snaps you out of your surprise and you swallow thickly as you take his and your cock in your hand (it’s hard to- but you make do) and start to slowly strone the tips, which earns you a hiss from soldier boy. You focus your eyes on his face, hands on both of your cock’s. 

You bite your lip at how much he’s reacting to just…frotting, he must’ve been waiting for this, his hips are thrusting upwards, his hips rolling as he moans with relief everytime you stroke. 

He’s never been this horny in his damn life, the way your cock feels against his is indescribable, feels so fucking delicious is all his mush brain can muster. He groans out a fuck as your thumb ghosts over the tip, gathering the precum to get both of you slick. You would say something but you’re honestly too horny to, there’s silence besides moans and groans as you work your cock’s to finish. You feel his dick twitch against your own, his hands grip the sides of your thighs and he pulls you closer; earning a high pitches whine from you. He looks at you once, his pupils dilated with lust and want as he smashes your lips together; your cocks grinding against each other as he rolls his hips non-stop, your hands now steadying you on the counter as soldier boy grinds and rolls his hips. 

The kiss is all tongue and teeth, there’s nothing affectionate about it, just pure animalistic want. Makes you moan like a bitch into it as he overpowers you easily, his hands gripping your ass now, his tongue inside your mouth as he gives one final roll of his hips and cums with a loud ‘fuck, yes’, his voice is the thing that tips you over the edge as you cum with a low pitched whine, both of your hips spasming and stuttering as you grind onto each other and the kiss gets even deeper; refusing to part with you even when both of your t-shirts are now stained with each other’s cum. 

You sigh shakily as he finally lets you go, rudely might i add, as he pushes his hair back and gives you a look you don’t really understand, shoves you off, making you curse under your breath as the counter digs into your lower back. You watch as he just… pulls his sweats back on and takes off his t-shirt, finds cigarettes on one of the cupboards and goes outside to smoke…

“What… the fuck was that?” is all that leaves you, your dick still out and your heart beating so rapidly you think it’s gonna burst through your chest. What a mess of a man, huh.  

[vin-taege]

Hi! I loved your awkward chishiya flirting sooo much <3 The way you write is so in character even with him being nervous about showing affection. Can you write him being completely oblivious he’s liked yn the whole time they’ve been through the games; he thought he was just protecting them out of trying to be a better person until Kuina is like you moron you’re clearly in love w them!!

And he’s like oh fuck, what are feelings?? I have them?? His thought process as he tries to deny it and then him having some awkward interactions w yn bc he doesn’t know how to act now he’s aware he likes her and then is desperately trying to flirt with no idea how to at all

Tokens of Appreciation

Summary: Chishiya tells himself that he sees you only as a friend, despite doing his best to give you a gift.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: reader x chishiya

Words: 2.4k

Note: I tweaked this a little to show more of him being in denial and still in the middle of processing it ^^ I didn't want it to be too close to the other awkward flirting fic, but I hope you still like it! Also god, I;m so sorry it took more than a year ; O; Good news is that I'm almost done with my thesis, so I have a bit more time to write :DD

Chishiya set the screwdriver down with a frustrated sigh. The music box sat in front of him, open yet still without song. He saw this on the day of the six of clubs game. The car that was supposed to pick them up got a flat tire and stranded them for a good hour. As much as he hated the militants for their incompetence, he was grateful that he had extra time to scavenge around the nearby shops. It was in one of the metalwork stalls where he found it.

It was fairly light, small enough that you could hold it when you brought both hands together. The outside looked like a small pot, with the lid having scalloped edges. Ornate, gold vines swirled around the sides of the box, leading up to the front. At the center of it was a teardrop-shaped gemstone that refracted prisms under light. Inside was a small rabbit instead of a typical ballerina. It posed with its arms up mid-dance, pointy ears curved back as it looked up.

That was what made Chishiya decide that this was the perfect gift for you. At the beginning of your friendship—before you had worn down his walls with “incessant” conversation—you had off-handedly mentioned a memory of your childhood toy.

“Oh, look at that!” you picked up the small piece of candy. The packaging still boasted its classic colors of red, blue, white, and black. Turning around, you held it out to Chishiya. “I used to eat this all the time when I was a kid.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. This was the ninth room around the Beach that you’ve ‘investigated’—a fancy word you liked to use instead of ‘snooped around.’ “You don’t know how long that’s been there. Plus, you’ll get cavities.”

“Candy doesn’t expire,” you stuck your tongue out at him, swiftly unwrapping the sweet and popping it in your mouth. You smoothed out the wrapper, particularly the area around the illustrated rabbit.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true���”

“He looks like the bunny plush I had.” Chishiya knit his eyebrows in confusion before glancing at the wrapper. He shrugged, feigning indifference.

“All rabbits look the same.”

“No, idiot. This one has pointy ears instead of rounded ones.”

“What’s that?” Kuina’s voice nearly made him knock over the entire thing. He flinched, throwing a blanket over his project. Clearing his throat, he stood up and narrowed his eyes at the girl.

“What did I tell you about knocking?”

Despite his small frame blocking the table from view, Kuina side-stepped around him, swiftly pulling the cloth right off. He hissed, moving to take the music box, but Kuina was faster, swiping it off the table and bringing it up to her eye level.

“Wow,” she enunciated, dragging the word. “This is for them, isn’t it?”

“No,” he tried not to stutter. He reached for it before Kuina held it above him. Her eyes were glued to the meticulous details. “If you drop that, I will kill you next game and make it look like an accident.”

She chortled, throwing her head back. Her loudness grew on him—is what he always told himself. Being his only friend when the Beach was only starting to form, he learned quickly how to tolerate Kuina’s more bubbly personality.

“What’s it for? Their birthday coming up?”

“No. I’m just making sure all our pieces are in place.” Kuina let him nab the item back. She watched as he wrapped it in the blanket, tucking it safely back into a drawer. 

“You totally like her,” she snorted.

“No, I don’t!” It came out too fast, too loudly. Chishiya’s face was starting to redden. His lips were pressed in a thin line, eyes downcast. It took a moment for him to collect himself. “We need her for the plan.”

“Yeah, right. It’s been half a year. Whatever long game you’re playing is over,” she smirked at him, plopping on his bed. “If anything, you’re the one getting played.”

“I don’t like her that way,” he crossed his arms defensively.

“Keep telling yourself that, lover boy,” Kuina chuckled, throwing a pillow at him. Chishiya swatted it away, face beet-red.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what, lover boy?”

“Kuina!”

Three soft knocks interrupted their banter. Chishiya froze when you opened the door, slipping in with a mischievous grin. Your arms were behind your back, hands hidden from their view. A faint crinkling gave Chishiya a hint as to what you were holding. 

You stepped towards him, making him instinctively block the drawer the music box was in. Your grin spread wider, making your cheeks look unbearably adorable. Wait, did he really think that?

“I have something for you,” you said almost teasingly. You thrust your hand to his chest, pressing a package of biscuits on him. He wasn’t religious, but he prayed that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat thrumming out his rib cage.

Glancing down, he gave the biscuits a curious look-over. The wrapper was pink and white, with small cartoon strawberries spread around it. Attempting to take it from you gently, his fingers grazed over the back of your hand, flustering you both. Quickly, you whipped your head towards Kuina, chucking her the other item.

She caught the lighter with ease, excitedly flicking it on. Kuina was certain the militants threw it out after the pool fire incident. Totally not your trio’s fault. “Woah! Where’d you get these?”

“I was in Tatta’s storage space,” you beamed proudly.

Chishiya’s blood curdled. He squeezed the biscuits, though still careful not to break them. Shifting his weight to one foot, he scrunched his face in distaste. “What were you doing with Tatta?”

“Nothing, we were just hanging out. Ann dragged him into the hallway for a quick conversation so I had time to ‘investigate,’” you motioned with air quotes.

“What are you hanging out with him for?” The blunt words left his mouth before he could process them. 

His heart shrivelled a little when your smile faded. Taken aback, you clasped your hands, suddenly self-conscious. “I thought he was nice and making another friend around here didn’t seem like a bad idea.”

“Well, what if he’s just another sleaze like Niragi? You know how some of the men slobber like dogs here. And you’re in a closed space with just him? Just the two of you in a room? Together? Do you know how stupid that is? What if something happened and Kuina and I were in this room and we couldn’t hear you and—”

“What Chishiya is saying—” Kuina spoke over him, sending him a sharp glare despite her pinched smile. “—is that we just want you to be careful around here. I think Tatta is a fun guy too, but don’t let your guard down that easily okay?”

You nodded wordlessly, avoiding Chishiya’s eyes. Unbeknownst to you, his look softened, fingers releasing their tight grip on the biscuits. He slouched, silently berating himself for sounding so harsh, especially after you’ve just given him a gift. Oh god, you gave him a gift! He looked back at the cookies, strawberry-flavored no doubt. Perhaps it was your attention to detail that chipped at his armor. The way you remembered how he took two teaspoons of sugar with his tea and how you’d sometimes take his hoodie after a rough game and bring it back smelling of fabric softener.

Just normal things good friends would do for each other. Because that’s what you were—good friends.

“Chishiya?”

“What?” He blinked slowly, glancing at Kuina through silver hair framing his face. 

“I said I’m gonna get us drinks from the bar. You sound like you need it.” She stood up, motioning for you to take her place on the bed. You shot her a small smile, though your mood has obviously been dampened. 

Kuina passed near Chishiya, lowering her voice to whisper, “Fix your mess.”

When the door shut with a soft click, it was quiet for a few awkward moments. The room felt like a held breath, with Chishiya still standing, holding the biscuits like an idiot, while you were sitting on his bed, regarding him a huge eye sore in the middle of the spacious hotel room. Being a high-profile diamonds player bought him certain luxuries, despite how unnecessarily flashy he deemed them. 

“I know you’re just looking out for me, but you really could be nicer sometimes.” He almost didn’t catch what you said, your voice soft. “I just wanted to get you something nice.”

He sighed, more so at his own stupidity. He pushed himself off the drawer and sat beside you, your knees touching. Pinching the corner of the wrapper, he ripped the packaging open, angling the biscuits towards you. Your knee tensed beside him, making guilt claw at his stomach more.

“Take one,” he said, almost demandingly. You huffed, gingerly taking a piece. It was a small, pillow-shaped shell. You bit into it, bringing your hand back to look at the strawberry filling inside. Chishiya hummed in approval as soon as the sweet cream hit his tongue.

Wordlessly, you shared the biscuits—his own form of apology. You scooted closer to him, a silent act of forgiveness he quickly picked up on. Always the clever man, yet he could never figure himself out.

“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Anyone with eyes can see how beautiful you are. If anyone here tried anything on you, I’d have to put rat poison in their alcohol. Do you know how troublesome that is?” he wrinkled his nose, pointedly munching.

A grin crept into your face. Your eyes flitted towards his face, dark brown eyes meeting yours. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Chishiya was stunned for a second. Blood rushed to his cheeks and the furrow in his brows deepened. He stammered, “No. No! That’s not what I meant. I mean that I’m just worried about you!”

You brought your face just a tad bit closer to his. “You worry about me?”

“No, no! I mean, you’re just a good ally and I don’t have any other strong feelings about you. I’m doing this for the sake of our alliance—”

He didn’t notice as you took the last biscuit, gingerly pushing it against his lips. He froze, eyes wide as he took in your appearance. An orange glow from the setting sun wrapped around your silhouette. You looked heavenly, like an angel beckoning him to the next life. Despite all logic screaming at him, he would gladly take your hand and go wherever that may be. 

You pushed the biscuit past his lips, the soft pair almost chasing after your fingertip as you pulled away. Curling your finger, you wiped the corner of his mouth with the edge of your knuckles. His breath stilled in his chest.

Chishiya leaned closer, your pull towards him magnetic. Shakily, he brought a hand up, about to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He’s seen this move once before, during a promotional commercial for a drama. He was reviewing for his finals at the time, taking only a few seconds to stare coldly at his roommate because of how loud the TV was. Evidently, he never put it into practice before.

“Ow!” you jolted back, hands cupping your face. Somehow, despite his brilliant mind, he accidentally poked you in the eye. You grit your teeth in pain, globs of tears running down your cheek. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” He tried prying your eyes away from your face, using his free arm to wrap around your back. “I’m so sorry. Shit. Don’t rub it, it’ll get worse. Come here.”

Assisting you through your blurry vision, he managed to walk you to his bathroom. He turned the faucet on, making you bend over the sink. Forcing stillness into his hand, he caught the water, gently splashing it against your reddening eye. You hissed, jolting back at the contact, though a firm hand on your back kept you in place.

“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” The distress was evident in his voice. You’ve never seen him in such shambles before, not even during games where he was at the brink of death.

“I know, ‘Shiya. It’s okay,” you managed to smile at him. He wiped your eyes with a soft towel, bringing it down for a second to gently grip your chin. He nudged your head up, only enough for him to check on your eye. He let out a deep sigh before pressing the towel back. At least the pain has died down a bit now. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not fatal.”

You snorted, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. His lips twitched almost into a grin, though he was still slouched over in embarrassment. “I can’t believe this is the thanks I get for feeding you.”

“I… I-I didn’t mean to. Honestly!” He shoved his other hand into his hoodie pocket. Suddenly, the floor was the most interesting thing in the room. You chuckled lightly at his antics. There was something so boyish about the way he stood, almost as if he wanted his hoodie to swallow him whole.

You brought your hand up, wrapping it around his on the towel. His cheeks heated up, though still defiant in meeting your gaze. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, surprised that he hasn’t pulled away yet.

“I’m sorry I poked your eye. I was just trying to…” he trailed off. How was he even going to explain himself out of this one? “There was dirt on your face. You should take a bath from time to time.”

“I do take baths!” you exclaimed, swatting at him again. You jabbed a finger to his chest, tone riddled with tease. “You’re just so obsessed with me.”

He finally allowed himself to smile, the smile that made everything feel normal again. At that moment, you weren’t players in the Borderland fighting for your life every other day. You were just two friends, for now. Chishiya is a tough nut to crack, but between your laughter sounding like tinkling bells and the euphoric buzz he gets from being around you, he’d be able to sort himself out. He just needs to take it one step at a time, starting with making that music box sing for you again. 

Because that's what good friends do. God, he was such a good friend.

Back in the main room, the entrance door swung open, followed by the sound of glass bottles clinking against each other. Kuina proudly declared, “I got us the stuff!”

“Did you bring ice?” Chishiya called out to her.

“Of course!” Even from the bathroom, you could hear her huff.

“Good, because we need a bunch of it here.”

[bettymylove]

hello, can you maybe do a one-shot of theo comforting y/n bcs she's been feeling insecure with her 2a + 2b hair😓 ( speaking from experience )

Date not so ruined

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: reader is feeling insecure about her hair and theo makes her feel better.

a/n: you're beautiful, hope this helped<33

It was date night, one which rarely occurred due to the burden both you and your boyfriend, Theo faced. Tonight was one of those nights when he would take you to a fancy restaurant and shower you with love.

You had started getting ready a while ago, thinking to yourself it wouldn't take long, but boy were you wrong.

It was your hair, aside from the fact that it was not the stereotypical perfect hair, it just wouldn't cooperate tonight. You had tried all the tips and tricks, your friends told you about to keep it from puffing up, but alas none worked.

You tried putting it in a bun, but the flyaways wouldn't settle, you tried keeping it open and that didn't work either, there must have been a hundred products you used and it still didn't do anything.

You wished your hair was normal, like all the other girls you saw on the daily, you looked yourself in the mirror and tears started to erupt from your eyes, travelling all the way down your cheek.

You would hate for Theo to see you like this, he would realize he could do so much better, he could have anyone else and she wasn't ready for him to leave her.

Theo's foot was bouncing up and down in the common room, he had been waiting for you for the past half an hour and was surprised to not find you there when he himself was a few minutes late.

He decided to go into your dorm and ask you rather than lose his mind trying to figure out what went wrong, he picked up the flowers he had bought for you from the table and headed straight to your dorm.

A slight knock on your door startled you, you knew who it was. You looked in the mirror again, this time not only the hair was bothering you but your eyes had swelled up as well.

Another sniffle escaped you and the voice you had grown to love asked you from across the door, "Are you crying, y/n?"

You cleared your throat, scared to be found crying over something this silly, you thought for sure he would think you were crazy, "No" you replied, and your voice cracked and you winced at it.

"Yes you are, I'm coming in, darling" Oh dear god, this was it, more tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill.

He was beyond panicked now. His girl was crying, and he would kill whoever made that happen.

The first thing you noticed when Theo entered your room were the flowers in his hand, your favorite, more tears spilled from your eyes, he was too good for you.

He kept the flowers down on your bedside table and sat beside you taking your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, but your turned your face away, "What happened, baby?" his hand tried to maneuver your face towards him.

"My hair, it's-," You wiped some of the tears from your face. "I don't feel pretty, Theo"

Theo sighed. He knew how insecure you were about your hair and how much it bothered you, he wanted to comfort you, wanted to tell you how you were the most beautiful person he's ever met.

He pulled on your hand, making you stand up, tugging you along to the other side of the room where your mirror was.

"You can't see how pretty you are l, but I can. I love your hair, how dare you say they aren't perfect." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "These eyes, god I could be lost in them all day, tears shouldn't be there"

He kissed all of your tear stains, one by one. "These hands, your pretty hands" he held one up, "I could kiss them all day" and he did.

You were laughing now, albeit lightly, but you were still laughing and his eyes glinted at the sound.

"Most importantly, your heart, which loves me and I thank god every day for it" Finally he kissed your lips, tasting the salt from your tears and the cherry from your lipgloss, you kissed him back, wondering what did you do to deserve him.

"Oh, and," His hand travelled to his hair, which was neatly gelled and he ran his hand through making it messy and letting it stick out in all directions. "Perfect, isn't it?"

You smiled at him, kissed his cheek while telling him you love him, and he said it back, he always did. Taking his hand in yours, you went out of the room, ready for your date.

[suosgirl]

How do you think the reader’s relationship with Suo both meeting while she’s out to get food for her and her sister. She’s genuinely kind and caring overall like Tanjiro from kny. How do you think they’ll get together? She’s helpful and won’t hesitate to protect those in need especially her younger siblings. She’s got a strong sense of smell acknowledging how others feel. Ty!

A To-Go Order (& Missing Utensils) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 1233

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. very brief mentions of Haruka Sakura and Akihiko Nirei (when are they not, let's be so honest)

୨ৎ Song Inspiration: Hypotheticals by Lake Street Drive

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, fluff, f!reader, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), swearing – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: Ahh ty for the request my dearest anon! I am going to be so honest – I have never watched Demon Slayer/Kimetsu no Yaiba (and I’m so embarrassed bc I just saw the latest like animated arc and it looks so good) BUT that doesn’t mean I’m not familiar with the character! I hope I do your request justice ahhhh!!! And I'm so sorry this took so long ahhhh!! Also, if I dip down into my eldest sister trauma well ... it makes it more genuine, right? ♡

Because – and this is a stretch, he knows this – but what if you didn’t have any utensils at home? How would whoever you were on the phone with be able to enjoy this delightful meal without said fork and spoon and chopsticks? And he doesn’t want to imagine what devastation and sadness look like on a lovely face like yours.

Suo hears you first before he sees you.

Maybe it’s the tone of your voice or the irritated tap of your foot on the floor, but somehow, someway you’ve got him intrigued within just a couple minutes of being in your presence.

You’re on the phone with your sister, lightly scolding her for being so reckless. She was a wild card, that girl, and when she’d heard about an easy and trendy way to cut her bangs from her friends, well, she’d only be able to confirm that it’s true if she tried it, right?

Wrong – so fucking wrong.

It was not easy, and it didn’t look trendy – and now it was you paying the price for it.

She’s sobbing so loud into your ear that you have to turn your volume down to the lowest it can go, but even that’s not enough, and at some point, you can’t help it – you blow up.

She’s no stranger to your lectures (she’s on the receiving end more often than not), but you’d told her not to do it. You’d told her that she’d hate having bangs. You’d told her to sit on the idea for a couple of days before committing to it.

But what does she do? What any good sister would do! Absolutely ignore you! Even though deep down she probably knew you were right!

You sigh, fingers massaging your temple as you shut your eyes for a quick fix of relief.

“... I’ll be home in a bit, okay? It’s not the end of the world, I promise. Now – what do you want from that Monjayaki place that you like so much?”

Suo watches the way that you smile into the phone, no doubt at the response of whoever you’re speaking to, but the smile on your lips is so warm and so fond that he gets just a bit distracted.

A small laugh leaves your lips as you repeat your sister’s order, and you end the call with, “Okay, got it. No more crying, ‘kay? I love you, and I’ll see you in a bit. Also … please put the scissors down – I’ll fix it when I get home.”

He watches the way you order, politely and respectfully, before taking a seat at the table right across from him, Sakura, Nirei, Kiryu, and Tsugeura.

He watches the way you cross your legs and take in the surroundings of the restaurant as you wait, before making eye contact with him.

He sends a small, practiced smile your way before turning his attention back to his friends.

Internally, though, Suo is just the slightest ashamed because he hadn’t meant to stare at you for so long. But, as long as you didn’t know – it was fine, right?

From his peripheral, he can see the way that you continue to stare at him in confusion before ultimately looking away, and he lets out the tiniest sigh of relief.

That … that was a close one.

He tries, truly, but he just can’t. 

He just can’t stop glancing over at you. You’d piqued his interest and he couldn’t understand why.

The cashier tells you it’ll just be a couple more minutes, but you’re quickly shaking your head at them with a smile and telling them not to worry and to take their time.

And Suo can't stop wondering – because how can someone like you effortlessly exude such an air of compassion and love?

As an afterthought, Suo wonders what it would be like to be on the receiving end of it.

Your order is completed much too fast for his liking because now you’re standing up and thanking them as you grab the bag and head for the exit, and Suo feels conflicted because he’s never ever been so curious about a stranger like this before and – 

You turn around as you slip out the door, intent on getting one last glance at him before you leave, but you aren’t expecting Suo to also be looking at you.

The last thing he sees is your mouth dropping in surprise and your eyes widening before the door closes – and then it’s over.

Whatever was happening between the two of you is over.

And – Suo shouldn’t feel any sort of loss from this but he does.

He ponders, briefly, if he’s missed out on something wonderful.

But he’s distracted, too distracted, apparently, to hear Sakura ask, “Who’re ya lookin’ at?”

He’s brought back to his surroundings by the soft nudge of Nirei’s shoulder, and he blinks.

“Ah, sorry Sakura-kun. Just in my thoughts, that’s all.”

Suo’s tone is friendly but firm, leaving no room for discussion.

He’d never see you again, probably, so he let that strange feeling of regret settle somewhere deep and hidden in his conscience.

He’ll get over it, he’s sure, but then he hears the cashier mutter under their breath, “Oh… I think I forgot to add utensils in there…”

Suo never lets his heart lead. Never. In fact, he can’t remember the last time that he did.

So, he’s not too sure what’s leading him now to politely excuse himself from the table or to offer the cashier his aid in delivering the utensils to you.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t – there’s no reason to. He doesn’t work here, he doesn’t know you, but if there’s one thing Suo’s good at, it’s reading people.

And he can’t imagine how disappointed you’ll be when you get home, only to find out that they’ve forgotten to pack your utensils.

Because – and this is a stretch, he knows this – but what if you didn’t have any utensils at home? How would whoever you were on the phone with be able to enjoy this delightful meal without said fork and spoon and chopsticks?

And he doesn’t want to imagine what devastation and sadness look like on a lovely face like yours.

But when he goes to open the door – 

You’re standing right outside, hand outstretched to grab the handle and a startled look on your face.

He glances down at your hand while you glance at his – and you note the neatly wrapped-up utensils in his hand.

It’s as if time stops for just a moment as you both stand there in shock – and when your eyes meet… well, it just feels right.

“Oh I –”

“Sorry, I –”

You accidentally cut him off, and it’s awkward and uncoordinated and cute.

Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, you let out a breathless, airy laugh as you look away.

“Would you like to go first?” Suo teases, and your mouth drops open just a tiny bit at his tone.

Because who was this guy? Who’d been staring holes into your head? And who’d caught your eye once more before you left?

“I… Sorry, um, I just… Do I know you? Because you were looking at me an awful lot earlier and I don’t want to be rude,” you explain, albeit a bit flustered.

Suo blinks.

He wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt.

Being the eldest sister does things to you - like being more capable of confrontation.

“Oh. You’re not here to get your utensils?”

“Hm? Why … oh, did they not put it in here? That’s fine – I’ve got some at home.”

Suo blinks again.

You blink too.

Briefly, you wonder if the utensils in his hand are for you.

“... actually, I lied. I don’t have any at home – like, at all. Would it be possible to get some?”

[a-aexotic]

could you do a rafe imagine where reader is a pouge and she’s working at the country club as a server or as a bust gal and kelce says something about her but rafe secretly likes the reader and he defends her and gets pissed at his friends for talking bad about her or saying something degrading or ojectifyinfg about her and then the reader finds out rafe defended her from topper ?? Bc topper is secretly kind (apart from the fire tbh) and reader confronts rafe about why he defended her

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. sooo much fluff, degrading language towards women, a fight (kinda), out of character top/rafe, lmk if i missed anything!

summary. rafe has a crush on you and topper makes it his top priority to get you two together after you confess your feelings, too.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

You were exhausted at this time of day and you just wanted to go home and rest. Your eyes were heavy and your feet hurt from these stupid heels the club makes you wear. You had one last table before you could clock out; you could already feel the warm bath you were going to draw tonight.

Until you saw who you were serving; Kook royalty themselves. Rafe, Topper, Kelce and a few guys you don't recall the names of. You prepared yourself for the longest hour serving these boys.

You walked up to them, a big smile on your lips. If you were going to serve some snotty Kooks you might as well get a good tip. "Hey, um. I'm Y/N, and I'm your waiter for tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?"

You handed out the menus and you could already feel their stares at your body and face, making you feel a tiny bit self conscious. In the corner of your eye you saw Kelce turn to one of the boys to whisper something and he immediately turned red before letting out a chuckle.

You saw Topper and Rafe make eye contact before Rafe rolled his eyes, making Topper sigh.

"Sure, for me, I don't know about the others though." Topper nodded politely as you smiled.

"Yeah, I'm super thirsty." One of the boys had commented as the whole table (minus Topper and Rafe) erupted in laughter. You were disgusted and honestly disappointed, I mean, how low could these jerks get?

Rafe cleared his throat and the whole table became quiet once again. "Me and Top are going to get some Old-Fashion's. I don't know about the others."

"Make that three more." Kelce added and you nodded politely, jotting it down quickly on the notepad.

"Okay, I will be right back with your drinks. Take a look at the menus, alright?" You walked away with another big smile and as you turned, it immediately dropped.

You didn't necessarily hate Kooks; well, not to the extent of JJ or Pope. You could honestly stand them; sure, they made you uncomfortably sometimes but at least at the end of it, you have a good tip.

"Take a look at those menus, more like take a look at that ass!" The boy had said and Kelce and other one let out another laugh. Rafe couldn't stand it.

The jokes weren't funny and were low blows, they were some of the worst jokes he'd heard in months. It was stupid. Rafe held in all his anger because he didn't want to cause a scene, especially here or in front of you.

He's been trying to make a move on you for months; giving extra tips, complimenting you, asking if you could help with the golf cart. And now all his hard was going down the drain because you're going to think he's shallow and idiotic because of his 'friends.'

The only person he actually liked right now was Topper and that's saying a lot. He felt bad for you as well. Rafe didn't really feel empathetic towards anyone but seeing you put on a fake smile and nod off the joke like it was nothing reminded him of someone.

"God what I would do to take her to bed." One of the boys sighed as the others agreed. Rafe bit his tongue as they continued.

"I'm sure she would," Kelce took a drink of his water. "If you tipped her enough."

"You're right, she's a Pogue. I'm sure she needs the money."

Rafe was disgusted. Is this really what they thought about? "Shut the fuck up, dude. That's not funny."

The table went quiet as the guy turned to Rafe. "What the fuck is your problem man, you've been in a bitch mood ever since we came in here. I mean, come on, it's a fucking joke."

"A joke? You call that a fucking joke?" Rafe started raising his voice. "You're the fucking joke here, dude. Who the fuck says that shit? Especially while she's literally over there."

Topper nodded. "Yeah, have some decency. Y/N's actually so sweet."

The two boys looked at each other before laughing. "Oh I see what's goin on here. You two are acting like you're all above this, above us, so she can see how gentleman-ly you are and let you tag team her, huh?"

"Not everything is about sex, dude. Maybe we actually think she's nice and a human being that deserves a little respect. She's, y'know, a living breathing human with thoughts in case you've forgot." Rafe was seeing red and he was about to throw a punch before Topper kicked his leg.

"What, dude? It's true." Rafe looked at Topper before he sighed.

"Let's just finish the drinks and then we can go, alright?" Topper was trying to calm things down and Rafe took a deep breath before nodding.

You had come back with all the drinks on a platter. You felt the shift in energy, it was a lot more tense now than it was. "Alright, have you guys figured out what you guys wanted to eat?"

You passed out the drinks.

"That would be it, can you uh, get the check please?" Rafe's voice was much softer and politer than usual and you nodded. You appreciated the manners; you don't see a lot of that in the country club.

"Okay, sure. I will be right back with the check." You smiled at him and his cheeks turned a little red as he turned away. Topper noticed this and was a little confused.

Rafe had never mentioned liking you in anyway. He was now wondering if he had just started liking you or if this was something that's been happening for a while now.

"Okay, Kelce, how much would you pay me if I went up to her and asked her out on a date?"

"Nothing, dude. You'll be getting the award, why would I have to pay?" Kelce responded, drinking a little of his drink.

Rafe flared his nostrils as he kept in his anger once again. He didn't want to blow up again, people were already staring.

"Dude, you won't do it." The other guy laughed. "You're a fuckin pussy."

"There's no way she'll say yes." Kelce added.

The other guy rolled his eyes, "How much do you wanna bet?"

Kelce laughed, "100$ easy, dude."

He laughed, "Okay, I'll be a 100$ richer."

"You're definitely going to lose that 100, man."

You came back and put the check down with a small smile. "Is that all boys?"

"Yes." Rafe quickly said, taking the check and putting his card in. The others exchanged looks. Before you could away, the boy had started to say something.

"Y/N, right?" He looked at your nametag then to your low V-cut shirt before looking back at your face. "I was wondering if you could let me take you out later this week, maybe... Saturday? I'm havin a big party, I'd just love for you to come."

Rafe was angry he felt like his eyes were going to bulge out of his eyelids as he stared daggers at the guy.

You stood there, a bit shocked. There were a few seconds before you could respond. "I would love to. But uh, I'm already dating someone."

"Really?" Topper looked confused, you'd never mentioned one. You glared down at him before smiling and nodding. Rafe felt like his world had come crashing down. You had a boyfriend?

"Yup, JJ. Two months!" You said dramatically. "Sorry... About that."

The guy looked pissed, turning away from you. "You weren't even that pretty anyway." He muttered.

Your eyes widened and immediately took that as your que to leave, walking away. "Okay.."

Rafe quickly got up after you, taking out his wallet and taking out a 20$, handing it to you.

Your eyes had widened at how much he was tipping. "Whoa, are you sure?"

"Very. My friends were douches to you and I apologize. I don't even know the other two dudes' names."

You laughed, the first real genuine laugh you've had all day. It was a like breathe of fresh air. "Me neither, but I can't take this, that's so much." You pushed away the money.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can." He put it in the pocket in your shirt before sighing. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

He walked away to the rest of his friends and you smiled at the nice gesture. Rafe, despite the opinion of your friends, was actually kinda sweet. I mean, he was sure as hell better than the rest of his friends (minus Topper).

"Dude, that took you long enough." You heard one of them groan.

"Shut up." You heard Rafe reply as you smiled to yourself. You immediately shook away the smile, sighing. Why was the Kook prince making you smile? Wow, you were in desperate need of a bath and a good meal, 8 hour shifts aren't your strong suit.

--

You were surprised and confused at Topper's words.

"Yeah, he was like, genuinely pissed. I've never seen him that mad and that's saying a lot."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, "Wait, wait. So he defended me?"

Topper looked at you like it was the most obvious thing of all. "That's what I've been saying for the last half an hour, have you been listening?"

You rolled your eyes at Topper's unnecessary sassiness, "Yes, Top, it's just been really hard to process."

"What's hard about it? Rafe has literally never had a soft spot for anyone except Wheeizie, like ever. And he's rich. He can spoil you and you're literally set for life-"

"Whoa, okay." You started laughing. "Let's not go that far. I am not marrying Rafe Cameron." ok girl...

"Okay but think about it." He smiled. "We could be like kinda related. If Sarah marries me... or if Rafe considers me a best friend, I could be like your brother-in-law."

You started laughing harder, "Sarah's not marrying you."

He didn't look too amused by that. "Okay, shut up, seriously. Rafe likes you."

The more you imagined his face and his smile, his dad outfits and the way he literally is an asshole to everyone except you, the more hot your face felt.

Topper smiled as he playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh. "He's cute."

"Cute? Don't call say that to his face, he'll get all flustered and then roll his eyes."

You already imagine his face, making you laugh a little harder. "Okay, okay. If... if I were to like him back, how would I approach him?"

Topper sighed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Okay, uh. Maybe just talk to him and flirt before he asks you out."

"That's so obvious-"

"He tipped you a 20 last night and you're worried you're making it obvious? Are you serious?"

You rolled your eyes. You reminded yourself to talk to Topper about his attitude problem later because it's getting a bit much. "Okay. Fine. I will."

--

Other than being a waitress at the country club, some days they put you on the Beverage Cart duty. It was probably because they were short in staff that day but honestly you didn't mind. You'd rather be out on the golf course then cooped up in the restaurant. You also get double the tips than you would inside.

Plus, you had a cute golf outfit on with the cute visor; you felt like a true Kook.

As you were going around, selling drinks, you saw Topper and Rafe. Of course they were going to the club today; it was nice Saturday afternoon. You face palmed yourself. You already knew what Topper was going to do.

Topper saw you as well, a smirk forming on his lips. "Rafe, uh. Remember Y/N?"

Rafe felt himself blush at the mention of you. He shook it off, nodding. "Uh, yeah. Doesn't she work here?"

"Yep. Also, I was uh, talkin to her the other day and she called you cute."

Rafe's mouth flew open as he whipped his head towards Topper. "What?"

Topper smiled. "Yeah, she called you cute. Like, really cute. She was blushing and shit."

Rafe smiled and he didn't even feel it. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, dude. And, oh! Speaking of the devil, there she is."

Rafe's eyes widened as he looked over at you and shook his head. "Oh, uh."

"I know you like her, man." Topper added as he looked to Rafe.

He shook his head. "No, I don't like her. I think she's cute."

Topper rolled his eyes. "And you blush around you, you stumble over your words, you tip her real good. You were practically on the floor kicking your feet in the air and blushing when I told you she said you were cute."

Rafe frowned at Topper's wording and before he could protest, he started pushing Rafe towards the cart. "Dude, hold on."

"Ask her out, man."

"Not now, dude, I've been plotting for months now, I can't just-"

"Dude, do you trust me?" Topper stopped and looked dead in the eyes.

"No." Rafe stated before Topper rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the fifty-th time that day.

"I don't care, now come on." He pushed Rafe towards the cart before grabbing the back of his collar, making him walk towards you. If this was any other situation, Rafe would've landed a punch to Top's jaw but he didn't wanna scare you off, so he kept his cool.

You stared the two as they approached the cart. They seemed too... normal. They were both smiling and you felt like they were plotting. You know for a fact that Topper is.

"Hey."

"Hi." They both said in union, making Rafe look back at Topper, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What can I get you two?" There was unnecessary awkwardness between the three of you as they both looked at each other.

"Two... sodas."

"Sodas?" You looked assumed. Were they 12?

Topper looked back at you. "Yes."

As you reached for the cooler, you heard Topper make an 'O' sound. You turned around.

"Oh shit. I forgot my wallet, I will be right back. Rafe, you stay here and get us the sodas, alright?"

Rafe looked back with his teeth gritted, a warning to Topper. "Topper."

He shrugged. "I'll be right back." He jogged away as you and Rafe made eye contact.

You knew that he knew what you had told Topper. And then, Rafe realized the same thing. He didn't know what Topper had told you but he just hopes it wasn't too embarrassing.

"Um. I never asked but um, what sodas do you want?"

"Ginger ale. I'm pretty Topper wants something girly like Diet Coke or something like that." Rafe mumbled the last part but you heard it. You let a horrendously loud laugh because you knew Topper would get a Diet Coke.

You suddenly felt embarrassed but it melted as you heard Rafe's small laugh as well. Butterflies filled your stomach as you heard him.

"Okay, then. One ginger ale and uh... a Diet Coke." You laughed a little after, making Rafe smile.

As you handed him the Ginger Ale, your hands touched and you felt like your face was on fire. You quickly pulled away.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe started. "Did Topper say anything about me?"

"In what way?"

"Um, I don't know... something involving you?" Rafe inquired as you smiled.

"Did he say anything to you about me?"

"Maybe." He dragged out the 'e' sound as you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

"Topper may have mentioned a few things about you. But they weren't bad. They were actually a little... admiring to hear."

He went red as he looked down at his feet. "Topper just loves to run his mouth."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He definitely loves to gossip."

He laughed at your wording. "He said some stuff about you, too. It was... admiring, too."

Your cheeks had begun to hurt from smiling this hard and it'd been only a couple minutes.

"Okay." Rafe sighed. "Are we talking about the same thing-"

"Yes, we are. I think."

Rafe was going to have to push all his pride and ego just this time. "I think that you're really pretty... and if you're not with JJ, I'd love to take you out on a date."

You had forget he heard that part. "I'm not with JJ."

"Okay, then what do you say?"

"Yes, Rafe." You smiled at him and he swore his heart did a little flip at the sound of that.

"Okay," he sounded breathless.

You then turned in your cart, looking for a piece of paper and your pen. You found one and then wrote down your number. You turned back and handed it to him. "Text me and then we can sort out the details, okay?"

"Yeah, for sure."

Topper finally walked back, wallet in hand, a big grin on his tanned face. He looked down at the paper in his hand and gave Rafe a proud pat on the back.

"Here's your Diet Coke," you held in your laugh as you gave the drink to Topper. Rafe smiled back at you as Topper opened it quickly and took a big gulp.

"Thank you. I knew you'd know my favorite drink, Y/N." He took out a 5 dollar bill and gave it to you before winking and you felt yourself cringe at Topper as you took the 5.

He and Rafe walked away and you stood there, your heart beating fast as you watched them walk away.

"What'd I say? Trust me, Rafe, I promise it'll work out and look, it worked out!"

"Yeah, for once, dude."

"Oh, shut up."

You heard their argument and laughed to yourself, getting back into your cart to drive to the next course.

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 5}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: Another overnight patrol, an asked favor, a miscommunication, a fleeting moment of pleasure and it all comes crumbling down. Even worse than you had anticipated, the allure of being a part of something bigger than yourself blinding you into believing it was finally within reach.

Word Count: 10.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, mild injuries, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, adult content, teasing, yearning, protective joel, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, size kink unlocked in reader, (girl, i feel you), reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: holy shit, i am so sorry for the mix up with the original content. i'm so emotionally drained from today that i didn't realize it wasn't the final version of the chapter that i uploaded. but it's fixed, all scenes are complete and as they should be.

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

It was your fault, you realized. As you set about searching for something you remembered seeing in the house when you had first been assigned to it and moved in with Aiden. It had been one of those things that you stared at in disbelief, startling manic, nearly hysterical laughter that had turned into tears and uneven breaths. So ridiculous to have come across it over a decade after the end of the world.

A pack of index cards.

Index cards. Who needed index cards at the end of the world, when language was all people had. Skills like writing, reading, all faded away and dormant reflexes that could be called upon if and when needed.

It hadn’t mattered if you could write, had the ability to write or read when you were running for your life from Infected and humans, crashing through the remains of what was once a town or city, crashing through snapping and unforgiving forests, crashing through unforgiving open land in the hopes that you weren’t spotted a mile away by someone trying to protect what was theirs or looking for targets.

It was your fault he had pulled away to the point of beginning his…thing with Marsha. The way you had run from him, run from what you had both shared. But it didn’t mean anything, he was...Joel was…an important part of the settlement. Integrated far better than you ever had the chance to and you would just ruin it for him. He had to understand that because he too, hadn’t tried to bring it up.

Gathering them and a few of the cookbooks you had, you settled at the kitchen table. Taking the time to flip through the recipes to find simple ones that could be adapted to the more limited means the settlement could produce. Eager to find ones that Joel wouldn’t find too challenging and would like the end result of.

Just as your pen hit the paper, a knock sounded on your door. Sighing, you set it down and made your way across the front of your home to find Tommy with a crying bundle in his hands.

“Maria left me with ‘im for the day to handle some council business and he won’t stop cryin’.” He looked like he was about to burst into tears himself, but you didn’t say as much. Knowing firsthand how draining it was to look after a newborn.

“Well, good morning to you too.” You said as the man shouldered his way past you and took up half of the couch, an old backpack swinging from his elbow.

“You said to come to you for anything we needed, and I need your help.”

“How do you know I’m not bad with babies, huh? Maybe they hate me and I’m one of those women who don’t like them?”

“But you’re not. Right?” His curls were a frizzled mess, his eyes telling of his sleepless night as they widened and regarded you almost desperately. Rocking the bundle in his arms gently, holding it close, But his arms looked angled weird, totally not in a natural hold. “Joel always said I was too anxious around Sarah when she was super little and that’s why she cried for him for hours until she tired herself out. But he’s busy workin’ on finishing up that new roof before the snow really starts to come down.”

You did know who Sarah was. It had been a rather slow and somber conversation between you and Joel one day in the middle of summer. You had only been going out on patrols with him for a few months at that point. Him and Tommy focusing on getting as much done around the town upon his return, taking longer than usual to add a newcomer to the roster.

He had asked after you, if you lived alone. You had answered yes, saying you lost everyone in the initial chaos of the outbreak. Your city too densely packed for a chance to return home, the only chance at survival had been to immediately flee. He had told you something similar, that he had lost everything but his brother in the wake of the virus. You hadn’t asked after who, but he had told you of his daughter. His biological daughter with a wet chuckle at how she was too kind for this world anyway. You had looked away from his tears, knowing even back then that he needed to speak otherwise it would eat him from the inside out. To think of her constantly and not be able to talk about her must’ve hurt just as much as losing her. Mentions of her sprinkled future conversations and you were glad he trusted you with that part of himself.

 But you weren’t sure if Tommy knew you did beyond her name as chalk on a blackboard memorial in his living room.

“I’m good with babies,” You assured the man beside you. Slipping a full bottle from the side of the pack and asked him to dap it to your wrist. You licked up the milky liquid, immediately pinpointing the issue.

“It’s too bland, a little sugar mixed in won’t do any harm. But I prefer maple since it’s got the same qualities of honey but less of the local pollen. Both will help build immunity to the blooms come spring time.” Standing up, you carefully moved the baby to rest along your front, head on your shoulder and moved into the kitchen. The cap had been unscrewed by a watching Tommy and you stirred in a bit of maple syrup that had been collected outside the gates.

The bundle in your arms was still crying, though not as high a volume as when Tommy had first entered the house. Softly hushing and cooing to try and calm him. The second you touched the bottle of sweetened milk to his little lips, he quieted down and began to sip.

“Oh, thank god.” Tommy’s head was in his hands, elbows atop his knees. You settled beside him once again, smiling over at the older man. “Olive, if this is too much, I promise-“

“It’s okay, really.” You let him rest a wide palm on your knee, his fingers caressing the bare skin there as your dress skirt allowed for them to show. His eyes wide and beseeching, making sure you were really okay before he sunk into the cushions. “I’ve made peace with it a long time ago…”

It was his fault. The thought consumed him as he inspected the planks of olive wood, having brought them into the house after the first heavy coat of frost that covered the whole town after a particularly chilly night. He recalled having woken up, shivering as he yanked on a pair of thick socks and searched through the closets in the house for a spare blanket to throw over his bed. How he wondered if you were warm enough in your own bed as he donned his boots unlaced and jacket unzipped to drape another blanket he had taken from the closet over a passed out Ellie in her little studio.

And then he had wondered what type of clothing you wore to bed. When you had answered the door in your robe, it hadn’t looked like you had anything on underneath it aside from maybe underwear and a tank top. Not enough to keep your skin from the chill that tended to seep in through the panes of the windows all around Jackson, despite the blessing of functioning heaters.

He hadn’t gone after you, his attention being called away. You had run off, too startled by being interrupted and most likely embarrassed at being caught in such an intimate moment. But…it had been such a good moment until it had been shattered.

You had shown up at his door in a long dress, the skirt flowing down to your knees, thick fabric around your legs to combat the ever-present chill in the air. There was a whicker basket, handle draped over your forearm. That paired with your worn boots and wide brimmed had had been such a lovely image to open his front door to.

It had been hard not to stare at you and you talked and guided Ellie through dinner, faint music drifting into the kitchen from the living room as he set about cleaning up after each step and setting the table. It was all so domestic and he wanted for more nights like it. Just you and him and Ellie.

Sighing, you made sure to lock the front door behind you. Apron bundled up beneath your armpit and thrown in the general direction of the laundry room door on the other side of the kitchen. Filling and setting a kettle over the stove, you stood and looked out your kitchen window for a moment, taking in the fluffy snow that had attempted to stick as the dark, moody sky brought it over the town. It was still early, the sunrise more than likely about to occur, but it hidden in the overcast.

You shifted your gaze over the counters, logging the ingredients you had on hand for a possible breakfast even if you weren’t terribly hungry at the moment. When they landed on the broken mixing spoon that had decided to crack and splinter last night under your soapy hands as you cleaned up over dinner, you moved to rummage in the hall closet. The scrape of untreated wood along the floor sent a chill up your spine as your fingers closed around what you were searching for.

The thick slab of wood is covered with an old flat sheet. It had been from a tree last year, one that had lost a main branch in the same winds that had taken a whole one from your collection.

It was beautiful. Rich in color, the grain so detailed and curling in beautiful swirls. Burl added layers and looking pretty as it was set just so in the cut. You had kept it, unable to burn it for the soil. The thought of asking Joel to make you a set of cooking utensils had been in the back of your mind for nearly the entire time he had been here. But now with the crop of cutting boards artfully crafted, you were tempted to ask him to make of those from the hefty source in your hands.

But he hadn’t offered you one, hadn’t so much as mentioned that he had begun to make more and more ever since that first one he had been ‘trying out the idea’ in Tommy’s kitchen. You were hesitant to bring it up, but with the holidays only a couple weeks away…you were curious to see his reaction to the request.

You didn’t ask anything of anyone. Not even when you first got here, had taken the time to acclimate to the way life was led here within the settlement. Community, social circles, job detail, patrol. All of it had been taken in stride, and you worked for everything in your possession. Joel did too. You admired him for it.

A few moments later, you were rapping your knuckles against the man’s front door.

Ellie comes around the side, hearing it from her separate garage. She had looked frustrated, then curious, then excited.

“Hey, Olive,” She walks up to you, noticing the wood in your hands. “The old man’s not home, he went to help out with the lil guy.”

“O-oh, okay. I’ll just come back, I guess.” But when you began to inch closer to the porch steps, she ascended them with a small smile.

“Nah, come hang with me until he gets back.” She brushed past you with a soft touch to your arm. A key slid into the lock and then you were hesitantly following her into the house. “Feel free to make some of that god awful coffee you two enjoy so much, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

You saw her dip off down the hall, the sound of her rustling through something behind an open door allowing you the privacy to make up your mind on the offer of coffee as you stood on the threshold to the kitchen. With a determined push, you set about to search for the coffee grounds and mugs. He had only two, one with a detailed owl and another more simple one. It was a plain white one that was hefty and looked like it belonged in the full hands of diner waitress. 

It transported you back to late nights and early mornings surrounded by ruckus laughter and inside jokes, the scent of pancakes and bacon cooking on a flattop and the jingle of a bell to signal overflowing plates were ready to be dug into.

“What’s that in the cloth?” Ellie’s curiosity piqued by the bundle you had set down atop the kitchen table, her long thin fingers slowly unwrapping it. With a nod from you, she did so completely. Her eyebrows shot up, thoughts swirling behind her keen eyes. They flicked to the back room just on the other side of the kitchen wall. Her bottom lip was taken between her teeth and she looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“I know it’s silly, but…” You couldn’t help but feel nervous admitting it out loud, that you wanted to ask Joel to take some of his sparse free time for a personal project. You poured yourself a steaming cup of the finished coffee, searching for the sugar cannister. “This has been drying for nearly a year and I was gonna ask Joel-“

“Gonna ask Joel what?” His voice sounded from the doorway into the kitchen, startling you both. You rushed to put yourself between him and the table, a poor attempt to hide the plank of wood from his curious eyes. He looked tired, no doubt having been up more than resting all last night if he had been over at Tommy and Maria’s.

Taking that as her queue to leave, Ellie bolted out the back door with a hollered goodbye.

“Oh, um. Hi,” You waved slightly at him, unsure of how he would take to coming home to his house and finding you in his kitchen. Even if Ellie had said it would be okay. You were nervous, knowing that asking for something was a tricky thing. Even if he was so willing to give to others; his time, his attention, his skills. “I ha-have this.”

Moving out of the way as he crept closer on heavy feet, you allowed him to see the olive wood you had hauled over here.

“I-I was wondering i-if you’d be able to make a set of cooking utensils out of this? But I understand if you’re too busy, or don’t want to work with the dense wood, or don’t have the time-“

"Of course, sweetheart. I’ll try my best for you." And just like that he melted all your worries away and a smile pulled at your lips.

He easily moved the chunk of wood from the kitchen to his workspace. The muscles of his arms bulging beneath his flannel, the muscles of his shoulders straining at the fabric over his broad shoulders. All for your viewing pleasure as you followed behind him. The room was smaller than you expected, on his ground floor, just down the hall from the kitchen. But it was such a reflection on who he was.

The main desk had a comfortable looking chair, thick cushion on the seat. Atop it was an open book, propped up on a few stacked behind it and open to a stunning photograph of a deer. In the center was a partially carved figurine of the deer in the photo, shavings around it and tools lined up in a half circle around the back of it.

“How many pieces did you want?” He carefully bent his knees and lowered the wood to the ground, atop a tarp that several long pieces of lumber were set on and leaning against the wall. Blocks of wood beside them and lined up against the wall almost like bricks.

“Oh, um, just however many you can manage.” The crack of his knees as he straightened worried you, but it happened to you more and more so you understood it wasn’t really painful so much as uncomfortable most of the time. 

"The cutting boards all around town...” Trailing off as a familiar scent caught your attention through the general smell of lumber, you moved toward the pile of wooden planks lined up along the wall like books atop a work table. There were many shades and types of wood, all different steps of being sanded down or stained, shavings nestled in a waste bucket beneath. Tools scattered over the surface and small cannisters of sealant and paint stacked neatly beside them. Two of the planks of wood were light, ashy and your attention honed in on them as you moved toward the table. “It was kinda my idea and I was wondering if-"

"Sweetheart, I can't make you one." You startled at the boom of his voice so close, blocking your view from the stack of them as he moved to stand in front of you. The hand that had been reaching out with the intention of caressing them fell back to your side.

"Oh, um, okay." You cast your eyes down, taking in the worn leather of his boots. Of yours. There were so many of them, easily two handfuls and yet he wasn’t willing to share one with you. But everyone else around town seemed to be worthy and you couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t. You were friends, he had said it himself. But then…but then you had kissed him and fled.

No question as to why flowed from you. You were used to not being included, but you had to admit that it stung coming from him. In an attempt to mask it you tried to smile but you weren’t sure if it actually showed. Your chest ached, body feeling like it wasn’t yours. Like you were looking down on it as it stood in that workspace with the man who sought solace within it. Like you had intruded, and shame bubbled up for having made yourself comfortable where you shouldn’t have.

"Can't find a sealant that would hold up to those knives we found. You'd just cause damage to it."

"Okay, but-“ You tried to backtrack, to apologize for being so curious.

"No, Olive. I don't have one for you, so please quit askin'."

You didn’t say anything, your voice stuck in your throat. Turning and walking away from him without looking up, afraid to see his expression. You faintly heard his voice calling after you, but you ignored it, it was far away. It was as if you were down in a tunnel, like you had tipped over and fell down into one the second Joel had turned you down.

You wanted to move past it, to gloss over it, to stay and enjoy in the time he had been willing to give you on his one day free from responsibilities. But you couldn’t, your chest felt like it had caved in, like you were hollow, like you would never be able to break into the social graces of the settlement. Marked with the death of someone who had, someone who kept messing up and making it easy for people to turn you away.

He thinks about how hurt you looked when he tried to ward you off from the stack of cutting boards he had practiced designs on and different shapes. berating himself for being so harsh when he had been scared you would see the wood he had taken from you without your knowledge. You had been reaching for the planks made from it, drawn to them as if they were magnetized.

The way in which you had shut down, his soothing words after denying you falling on deaf ears as you turned and simply walked away from him. He had been under the impression you wanted to spend the day with him. You had been an unexpected guest but not an unwelcome one. It had been nice to return to his home to find you there, comfortable enough to have put on a pot of coffee and the errant scent of that woodsy, floral perfume that seemed to be a part of your skin from tending to the trees in your yard.

But you had just turned and walked away.

He watched you go, not liking the way you had shrunk into yourself at his denial. He had tried to be soft with it, you couldn’t know that you had been asking after the one thing he wanted to keep a secret from you. That you had given him the idea and he was practicing and making so many different prototypes all to ensure that when it came time to craft yours, that he would be able to do so easily.

He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, sighing out as he dressed for patrol. His alarm had gone off an hour ago but he had already been awake, sleep evading him as the moment from the other day played in his mind’s eye over and over again.

Settling on the musty cushions beside you, the memory of the last time he had done so puffed up along with a cloud of dust. It had been a long day. Clearing the village and finding a place to hole up in for the night.

“I’ll take the first watch, try ‘n get some rest.” He murmured low, taking in the way you were already curling your legs up underneath your body on the other end of the couch. The scarf around your neck pulled up for you to bury your face into it, hands in their gloves and secure in the pockets of your coat.

You didn’t think you even responded, the cold of the day draining you and making sleep too alluring a respite even with the broad man beside you and all alone for the first time in a while.

Bird calls woke you up hours later, signaling the start of a new day. The warmth of sleeping was a lull to the chill you knew awaited outside, but you pressed into the bed further, burrowing even more into the lump of blankets you tended to scrunch up beside you.

But the lump shifted and your eyes flew open to find a different setting than you dark bedroom. You weren’t asleep in your bed, you were sunk into a decrepit couch and pressed into Joel’s right side, having sought out his warmth in the cold house. He was asleep too, his eyes closed despite his body still seated up with his feet resting on the ground.

You couldn’t help but rest your cheek on his shoulder, taking comfort in how close and warm he was, even if it had been an instinctual move to begin with.

He was so handsome. Beautiful. From the scar across the bridge of his nose, the one at his temple, to the freckles that littered his tan skin. Wrinkles relaxed as he slept, his plush lips parted slightly. His body sunk into the fabric where he had settled last night, long and lean. His mass so large you had shifted in your sleep to press up against him, partially on him to share the small couch and steal his warmth. His neck bent back a little as his head lulled onto the back cushions.

Your eyes roved down the strong column of his neck, catching on the way his adam’s apple jutted out and you resisted the urge to lean in and nip at it.

His hands, dear god, his hands. They were slack in his lap, his entire body completely lax as he slept slumped beside you. Veins and freckles decorated the skin, mind running with the idea of them tight around different parts of your body. How they would feel wrapped around your hips, your breasts, your neck…

You couldn’t help but reach out and lay a hand atop one of his, your palm over the back of his. Your stomach fluttered, the heat settling low. Your own hand looked so small, atop his. The difference so startling.

“Mm, good mornin’,” Joel’s gravelly rumble made you jump, realizing you had gripped two of his fingers in your hand. He jostled the hand in your grip and you felt heat flood your cheeks at being caught touching him. When you moved to take it back, he curled his fingers, catching your hand and pulling it up to his lips where he pressed his lips to the back of it. “Don’t act all shy now, sweetheart.”

You throb.

The gusset of your underwear suddenly dampens as you clench around nothing.

“I-I don’t know what came over me, you were sleeping and I shouldn’t ha-have-“ Trying to tamp down your less than friendly thoughts, the allure you felt wash over you at his sleepy timbre, to backtrack away from what could end up being another thing to have him avoiding you around the settlement.

But he surprised you, emboldened by the hazy thoughts displayed in the parting of your own lips, the heat he could feel rolling off of you, the pressure you tried to relieve between your legs with a clench of your thighs together. And then his thick, sleep coated words turned sultry, pitched low and velvet.

“Thinkin’ about my hands on ya, huh? Sweet little thing, what was it?” He guided your hand to cup his cheek and then rest against his neck. “Thinkin’ about my hands here?”

When he squeezed your hand around it, you felt faint for the way your blood was rushing and thundering loud in your ears.

“N- no.” You swallowed, voice breathy and pitched low as you struggled to find words.

“No? What about…” He moved your hand to his chest, right in the middle of his ribcage. His heart was thundering beneath the flannel, mirroring your own. “Here?”

Your breath hitched as he moved it further, not giving you the chance to answer this time. Down ,down, down past the hem of his shirt beneath his jacket to the denim of his jeans. Pressing your palm down atop the zipper, you could feel the long line of him, hot and semi-hard. It twitched at the pressure, and you couldn’t help the whimper that fell from your lips. Eyes having been dragged down along with your clasped hands.

“What about here?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his question was pressed close, nose brushing sensitive skin just behind it. Mustache and beard lightly scraping against you, causing you to shiver and press down your hand more firmly. He groaned out, the sound burrowing deep into you. He twitched again beneath your palm and all the air in your lungs whooshed out.

And then he was dipping his head to capture your lips in a hard kiss. His tongue trailed over the seam of your lips, and you let him in without a thought. Pleasure flared from the heat that had taken hold of your entire body, the air crackling with the need for him to be closer, to be pressed to you completely, pressed inside of you completely. Body buzzing, needing more more more from him you shift to cup his cheek with your other hand.

When he speaks next, his voice is all soft. Southern twang breathy and so close as his lips graze yours, his forehead pressed to your own. The press of hot skin only a prelude to what you hoped was more…

“Sweetheart, I-“

The sudden creak of the back door opening cut the tension of the room and your stomach filled with dread. Joel’s hands became almost painful on you as both your heads whipped around to stare at the kitchen threshold, waiting with bated breath for the intruding source to walk through it.

He was up off the couch in a second, his handgun in his palm and he stalked silently toward the kitchen, leaving you on the couch to reach for your own. But your attention was pulled to the front door of the house just as he disappeared through the threshold.

Two shadows crept into the house and your ducked down to avoid being seen immediately.

There were sounds of a scuffle in the kitchen and you took the opportunity to sneak around the couch in a crouch and stand with the gun trained on the larger figure of the two just on the other side of it.

“Drop your gun or I shoot.” You kicked his legs apart, hand patting him down as he listened to your command. He didn’t have any other weapons on him and the woman a few feet away didn’t visibly have any, her clothing tight around her middle, large jacket draping over her to keep her swollen middle warm.

You took your eyes off of her for one second to kick the gun away and behind you when she lunged. A shiny piece of something glinted in her hand and you shouted out as it cut across your own middle.

Grunting, you elbowed the man in the ribs, winding him and sending him to crumple to the ground in pain. You kicked out and wrapped your foot around one of the woman’s legs and tugged her close, ignoring the sensation of that same piece of whatever it was in her grip as it tore into your jacket sleeve.

You smacked her hand against the wall behind her, being mindful of her stomach and was about to wrap your hands around her neck when the man wheezed out a pleading cry.

“Don’t hurt her, please!” He tired to catch is breath, but you didn’t break your focus away from the woman you had pinned down. A wave of nausea rose over you, the only indication before you collapsed, blood soaking the front of your shirt in a dark, wet patch.

“Shit, I think you cut her too deep.” The man crawled over to you, his hands pressing down to try and staunch the flow. The woman fell to her knees beside him, her hands reaching out to grip one of your arms. The clatter of the weapon she had used was loud and you looked over to it. It was a piece of dirty glass.

“I-I didn’t me-mean to hurt you so badly! I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck, okay, go to my pack.” They shared a confused look, but the fact that they hadn’t run off with yours and Joel’s supplies to their remorse at hurting you told you they were good people. “Go! There’s a spare shirt, we need it to put over the wound.”

Just as she bent to dig into the pack by the couch, Joel’s quiet steps and low threat called as he entered the room.

“Get your hands off of her and step back.”

“Wait! They aren’t Infected!” You panted, voice sharp despite the effort it was taking to breath as your middle burned, knowing the man’s instincts had taken over completely. His steps measured. His gun raised. His reasoning marred by the sight of you bleeding on the floor.

“They hurt you.” His honeyed drawl gone, replaced with an air of authority that demanded attention, all dark, rich molasses sticking everyone in place.

“It was an accident, Joel, please. They…they have a baby on the way. We have to take them back.”

“That true?” He kept the shot gun aimed at the man hovering over you, the blood shining on his hands making his nerves twitch. But his eyes landed on the woman who had been rummaging through your bag for first aid supplies. She slowly stood from her crouch, revealing her swollen belly.

He ordered them both to take a seat on the couch, telling them he would deal with them once he tended to you, letting them know that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if they tried something. He then kneeled down on the ground beside you, one of his large hands going over yours holding the wad of fabric to your middle, the other going to cup your cheek.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” His eyes bore into you, stern edge to them. You were visibly shaking, skin looking sallow and sweat beading at your temple. He carefully moved your hands aside, eyes flicking from your pained expression to the injury as he slowly lifted the fabric you had pressed to it. And then the hem of your sweater and tank top underneath.

Lips a grim line and eyes dark as he took in the still bleeding injury. His brow furrowed deeper as a thick rivulet ran down your side to spill onto the floor and Joel cursed under his breath. The gash was a few inches long across your stomach, to the left of your belly button, rimmed and irritated red. Angry and no doubt already infected if the shard of dirtied glass abandoned beside you was any indication. Your blood stained it, the woman’s fingertips pressed into it in smeared, red marks.

“Shit, it’s already starting to get infected.”

You managed a weak nod, both in response to his question and muttered worries fighting off the tears as he pressed around the wound, trying to get a gauge of how deep it was. You held back a whimper at the prodding, bottom lip firmly between your teeth.

“Joel, there’s gau-gauze in my pack.”

“Find it and toss it to me, quick.” He raised a threatening look to the pair on the couch, their heads turned and watching everything play out. Worried that if you were to bleed out, the man wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate or leave them here to their own devices.

The woman rushed to dig into your pack once more, fingers finding the crinkling plastic wrapped around the sterile gauze. She tossed it to Joel, the hand that had moved down from your cheek to rest over your heart on your chest reached out to snag it from the air. He ripped it open with his teeth and urged your hands to hold it down atop the wound.

You could only watch through hazy eyes as he shucked off his jacket and then his flannel. With a smooth motion he removed his t-shirt, his most base layer. With his chest on full display, the dark hair over his chest and trailing down from his belly button you startled at the sound of ripping fabric. The knife he kept holstered on the back of his waist out of is sheath as he used it to cut a thick strip from the hem of his shirt. He gently urged you to lift up from the ground for him to wind it around your back and tie it securely over the wound.

Slipping two fingers below it to ensure it was tight enough to keep pressure but not overly so as to cause more problems. It felt a thousand times better already, your nausea waning as the blood stopped flowing from your body. But you would definitely need stitches and antibiotics once back inside the gates. Once he was sure the wound was okay for the moment, he took both your hands in his, a slight tremor to them. His thumbs rubbing soothingly across the backs of them.

“Okay, you’re okay,” He murmured. He leaned down to press his forehead to yours. Breathing in deep and your lashes fluttered as he sighed out. His eyes were clenched shut and he took a moment to ground himself before he pulled back and peppered chaste kisses over your face. Your forehead, each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose. The edges of your mouth.

“I’m okay,” You promised, unable to ignore how shaky his breathing was so close. A nervous giggle sounded from you, unable to tamp it down as your head swam. “But maybe you should put your clothes back on before you freeze.”

“Can’t lose you, sweetheart.” The whispered sentiment washed over you, leaving you warm and light in the chest for a completely different reason. Only when you nodded in understanding, did he reach over for his flannel and shrug it back over his broad shoulders. The buttons closed up with deft fingers as he watched you take a mental stock of your body and how it felt. You said up just as his jacket was pulled back into place over the flannel.

“Good thing ‘m not goin’ anywhere then, huh?” His wet chuckle was the only response you got before he helped you to stand. He guided you over the couch with an arm around your shoulders, silently demanding that the pair move from the cushions to make room for you. Making sure you were comfortable with both packs beside you before he turned his attention to the people who had injured you.

A nurse took you in quickly, insisting someone else would do a thorough check on the brother and sister you and Joel had brought to them once leaving the horses at the stables. The backup shirt you had taken along with you in your pack tied to your abdomen with a scrap of fabric from the bottom of Joel’s undershirt. It was better than nothing, better than bleeding out.

You had insisted that the woman, Callie carefully got up on Lowry for the trip back. Joel had been worried about them sharing a horse together, the very real possibility of them taking off on it at the forefront of his mind. But you had assured him that they could be trusted. That they could’ve taken both your packs and left you to bleed out on the floor.

That was how you had found yourself once again sharing a horse with Joel for an entire day. The feel of his body pressed close to your back so different from when he had tried to keep his distance. His hands secure around your waist and resting atop the saddle horn. You tried not to let it distract you, carrying on casual conversation with them to get a feel for who they were. Every so often, when you grunted at particularly hard hoofbeats or a rough jostle, his right hand would press against your roughly patched wound.

Stitches, the nurse had said. At least four of them.

Joel was outside the hall, waiting for you to be released. He looked up from the notepad in his hands when you exited the room, brown eyes tired. You couldn’t read his thoughts, though you were too tired to begin to think what that could mean.

“Hey, what’d they say?” He surged up, the notebook going back into his pocket, the worn fabric snug around it. He retrieved the coat and sweater he had kept for you when the nurse had asked you to remove all outer layers.

You lifted the torn tank top, allowing him to see the clean, bright white bandage that had been taped over the injury. The fait outline of stitches could be seen through it. Two of his fingers brushed against it, almost tenderly.

“No painkillers, those are only for serious cases.” You let him help you put the sweater back on, his hands holding the head opening side for you to slid it on, gently tugging the fabric into place around your sore arms. “They gave me a shot of antibiotics and a pack of fresh gauze. Gotta come in next week to get the stitches looked at.”

“I’m so sorry.” He murmured as he held the coat up for your to slip your arms into. When you turned around to face him again, he pulled you to him in a loose embrace. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Joel, it’s okay. We’re okay. I promise.” You leaned up, mindful of the new pull on your middle, and pressed your lips to his cheek. Sighing at the soft pressure, he walked alongside you out of the building.

Since there wasn’t anything they could give you for the pain,  you just wanted to lay in bed and rest. But you also wanted to try and find a reason to get out of the house later. Swallowing down your fear of rejection, knowing he was the one person who wouldn’t do that to you, you asked him for a drink later in the evening.

But he didn’t look up from the paper in his hands as he walked out the front door with you, scribbling something down on a page that only had two previous lines of script. The chill of the wind breezing past you both as you repeated your question in slightly louder volume, sure he just hadn’t heard you. You knew he was hard of hearing in his right ear and that was the side you were on. But what you didn’t expect was his haphazard response. So at odds with the tenderness and care he had shown you throughout the day.

"Huh? Oh uh, I can't tonight. Sorry, I'll see ya, Olive." And then he's off without so much as a glance your way, leaving you standing outside the infirmary. It left you more than a little concerned, whiplash at the sudden shift from intimate, to protective, to nothing so much as a glance all from the same man.

It’s early, the sun not even showing signs of rising. Snow drifted down, a perfect morning. You were humming to yourself, mentally planning out the meals you could make. A breakfast casserole that would allow for the use of root vegetables, eggs, some of the goat cheese that had been made perhaps. You were minding your own business, enjoying the walk to the mess hall and the kitchen that would allow you to work and forget the hollow feeling that hadn’t left you all last night. It was easier feeling nothing other than the faint pull of stitches on your abdomen.

You catch a figure walking out of a front door further down the street. The figure broad but their steps light as they descended the porch to Marsha’s house.

Oh.

It was Joel.

He didn’t have a utility belt, he didn’t have a toolbox, he didn’t have anything that indicated he had been there to repair something.

It was Joel Miller, leaving Marsha’s house. Far too early to mean anything other than the fact that he had spent the night inside, with her. Guess that's why he had turned down your offer for an evening with you. He already had someone to share drinks with, someone to spend his time with.

Turning, you tried not to follow his figure as he began to walk down the street, facing away from you.

You could only think that it was because of the way you had run the other night. Because of the way you two kept giving into yearning touches only for the moment to be yanked away. Three times now, far too much trouble for someone as busy as him. Someone with a life like he led as he cared for his family and the repairs that were needed around the settlement. You were desperate, for company, for attention, for him. It must’ve not settled well with him to realize how much you wanted him and that it never seemed to work out in his favor, only friend or not.

Deep down, you knew that wasn’t the reason. He was such an understanding man, and he wouldn’t put the blame on you. But the fact of the matter was that he was willingly spending his time with Marsha.

He wasn’t sure where you had disappeared to, your house dark safe for the light over the stoop light up in a warm tone. He had a box in his hands, something he had rifled through his, Ellie’s, and Tommy’s homes for to fit the finished set of wooden utensils you had asked him to make.

He had taken his time, sneaking glances at the ones in your kitchen when he dropped you off after patrol one morning and you offered him a light lunch. You had made grilled sandwiches, pairing them with some steamed vegetables that were beginning to wilt in the cold air of the house. You ran the heat on a good middle range, to ensure it didn’t get too stuffy and begin to take a toll on the record collection in the living room or the books you kept on every surface and crammed lovingly into the many bookshelves you had.

You seemed to favor spoons, though he did catch sight of a few rather flat spatulas. He had inspected the wood thoroughly before he even thought of measuring it. Admiring the way the dried wood looked and taking notes down on the pad of paper he kept on him at all times. Compared it to the two planks he had, noting the different feel and heft of them versus the completely dry specimen you had brought to him.

He let his thoughts wander as he took a seat on the cold concrete steps of your stoop. Opting to wait for your return for a few moments, hoping that you would return soon as evening had fallen, the set having set a few hours ago. He didn’t recall you mentioned evening shifts at the mess hall, opting for the mornings that you enjoyed. Something about the quiet of the town, less lonely than the nights, had been a quiet admittance. He had been too shocked to respond, you must’ve taken his silence as the end of the conversation. You had turned quiet alongside him, the only sound for the rest of the route back to the gates had been the hooves along the ground.

It struck him now, that you had been admitting even early on how lonely you were. How the town choosing to not interact with you had hurt, had been hurting you. A warning even then, that you were sensitive to the dynamic and went along with it even if you didn’t agree with it. You were such a lovely person. Kind hearted, giving, caring, and he loathed that people like Marsha perpetuated the agenda against you.

She was relentless in her attention on him and he was getting a little annoyed with it. But he was being cordial, the exact word you had used to describe the woman. He had finished the last of her shelving the other day. He had worked overnight to get it fitted and fastened to the wall. Securing it with bolts and weight holding supports, wanting to be done with the project that had been more of a coercion of his skills. She was a manipulator and he had played into her hands just like she had wanted.

He felt like a fool, knowing he had agreed to do it for your sake and out of a need to protect you.

Then he realized there were two people who allowed you into their lives. That spoke fondly of you, invited you to dinner, allowed you shares of what they could get the last of in down on main street.

Standing, he hoped to find you among his family. Making his way his way to Tommy’s, Maria was the one to answer the door. A finger to her lips to signal him to keep quiet as she slipped out the door to join him on the porch.

“They’re both sleeping, it took an hour to get him down and then of course Tommy slumped over.” She didn’t seem upset, but the news allowed for Joel to realize you weren’t here either. Clocking his silence and the box in his hand, she cocked her head up a little to examine his features. “Everything okay, Joel? Olive didn’t pull her stitches already, did she?”

“Yeah, everythin’ is okay. I’m actually looking for her. Have you seen her today?” He shuffled on his feet, aware of how they ached as the cold settled in to stay for the season.

“She’s at the bar, came by with dinner for us on her way out.” Maria explained, watching his closely. Able to pick up on his agitation. It was odd when she compared it to the almost forces nonchalance you had exhibited earlier.

“Can you hold onto this for me, I’ll be back to get it tomorrow.” He thrusted the box into the woman’s hands and was making off down the street before she could even respond.

The bar is a cacophony of sounds, of laughter, of conversation, the clink of glasses being lifted and then placed back on tables. The gurgle of more drinks being poured, of ice tinkling in glasses, all of it was so nice to just sit in and enjoy. Even if you were alone on your stool.

"Another round?" You disguised the clenching of your hand around your empty glass, the voice right behind you. His voice, the charming drawl pitched low and so so close.

“I don’t think we should be drinking with each other.” You shifted away from him, not wanting him to think you were open to spending time with him after his rejection, after his secret of seeing Marsha was exposed to you in the form of his leaving her house far too early for any reason than having stayed the night, for the way you had wanted to say yes to spending time with him but it hurt too much. For the way that it was getting harder and harder to resist the urge to lean up and kiss him, to run your hand down his arm or back in a soothing caress. “I’m waiting for someone.”

His brow furrowed as he regarded you, lifting his drink to his lips and taking a deep pull from the amber liquid inside. He sat down atop the stool beside you despite your words. His glass settled on the bar top, now empty. Your eyes were focused on the melting ice, not able to look at the man who was giving you his attention.

“What’s that?” He huffed, almost chuckled as he believed you were just joking, teasing him like you tended to do sometimes while out on patrol. But you weren’t, both of you seated at the long bar of the Tipsy Bison on the main street in town. When you still didn’t raise your eyes to him, he realized you weren’t, that you were turning him down and away.

“Tell me the real reason,” He leaned close, pivoting the seat of the stool so you faced him. Your insides whooshed with the movement. With the way he demanded your attention, with the entirety of his focus on you almost breaking your resolve to remain professional. Aware of all the eyes constantly watching you, judging you; all the eyes on him constantly watching for entirely different reasons, fawning over him.

“Because I like you.” You admitted, unable to deny him the truth. You could only lift your eyes as high as his lips, which was a mistake as you recalled the feel of them. They were so soft, so plush and you never had the chance to gently nip at his bottom one…

“Well, I like you too, Olive.” His nose brushed your cheek, moving impossibly close, his thumbs digging into your thighs as he held to the stool.

“No, I like you, Joel. And this isn’t a good idea.” You pulled back, aware that you were both in a very public place. That the looks focused on you both, your intimacy, combined with soft murmurs of voices that could be saying anything. Making notions in their minds that he was associated with you, that he spent time with you enough to feel comfortable engaging in this type of behavior. And that was bad, it was so bad for people to associate him with you. It would cause people to question him after everything he did for the town. It would begin to erase all the good he had provided.  “Joel, people are looking.”

“Don’t worry about them, just focus on me.” Your eyes snapped to his, taking in the way the brown of them was alight from the sconces around the bar. There was no hesitancy in them, no remorse. Only adoration and your stomach swooped, your heart fluttered. But you tried your best to resist.

“That’s not a good idea either.” You whispered.

“You thinkin’ of doin’ somthin’ to me?”

“M-maybe.” The admittance rolls off your tongue, his lips close enough that he can taste it.

“Sweetheart, I’d let ya if that’s what you wanted.”

“N-no.” It took everything in you to deny him, to deny the tension that pulled your muscles tight in every part of your body.

“No?” He leaned back, taking your words and heeding them, sensing that you meant them, even if it was a stuttered, breathy response.

“I don’t want to, I mean I do, but- this” You motioned between the two of you, how little space there was between your bodies. His body pivoted toward you and his hands still partially around the denim of your thighs. “Isn’t a good idea.”

His eyes roamed over you, seeing the nerves and truth of your demeanor. You did like him, and it was becoming a problem. He didn’t need a younger woman fawning over him, the friendly rapport riddled with holes. Of temptations that were tamped down by his unwillingness to share his craft with you, the time he had been spending with Marsha, the pull of his attention in so many directions, especially with the holiday hurtling toward the town tomorrow.

“We’re hardly friends, Miller. You barely started acknowledging me outside of patrol.” You reached for your drink so you’d be less likely to cup his face in your hands and throw caution to the wind.

“What makes you think I haven’t been tryin’ to keep my hands to myself, bein’ around you?” His voice tipped low, to avoid being overheard despite the closeness he had initiated. Closing your eyes at the visual, you shook you head as your throat bobbed with the sip you had taken from your drink.

“Because you don’t like me that way.” You scoffed, beginning to lean away from him. “You didn’t even get me anything for the holiday…You’re with Marsha.”

“Didn’t get your name in swap.”

“Oh.” And all the fight you had in you crumbled at his simple words. The reassurance in his voice that drowned out the hum of the environment all around you.

“But I thought - Ellie was asking so many questions I figured she was doin’ the work for you.”

“Maybe she got you?” He tapped the lip of his glass as the bartender wandered close, signaling for another when the man got the chance. His hand going back to your leg in a second.

“N-no. She got Jesse. Whoever got me most likely tossed the scrap of paper and picked another.”

“Marsha and I are just friendly, it’s nothing beyond that. Olive, I swear to –“

Someone cleared their throat unnervingly close. You both turned away from each other to face the person who had decided to break the currents flowing between your bodies, tension thick in the air with their approach.

Marsha. With a wrapped gift in her hand and a yearning look for Joel. Her attention solely on him.

“So much for just being friendly, huh, Miller?” You set your drink down, glass nearly empty and pushed off from your stool. The drag of his large hands over the tops of your thighs not registering as you quickly took off. Leaving him to the woman who seemed to be a constant companion as of late. Better company for him, you though begrudgingly as you made your way through the snow-covered streets and back to the safety of your home.

Sighing, you picked up the wrapped bundle of recipe cards. Joel’s gift.

The one you had spent hours pouring over, making sure your writing was neat and legible, the cursive loops delicately over the lines on the thick cardstock. You had debated whether or not he would be able to read the script, knowing how he squinted at certain things. No doubt needing glasses in his older age, an item you always kept a keen eye out for should it end up being a perfect match for him.

Your heart panged, the fleeting image of him tucked in bed beside you with a book or manual in his hands and a pair of reading glasses perched on his aquiline nose. His scruff catching the light of a soft bedside lamp and the silver sparkling. His curls damp from an evening shower, the scent of him so clean and pure beside you as you lay tucked in the other side. It hurt. It hurt to think you would never get to experience that, experience him in every simple, mundane way.

With a long-suffering huff, you reached for some of the dried leaves you kept from the trees when you last preened them. Fastening it to the top of the bundle with a piece of twine. You don’t write Joel’s nor yours. He would know it was from you from the writing inside, from the olive twig. A parting gift, you guessed.

This would be the last thing you would offer him before drawing back to your solemn life. He had brought color and life and laughter into it, but the hurt wasn’t worth it. Your heart and body aching for a man who had too much to lose.

You faintly heard soft voices trailing along the dark streets, the light fixtures doing their best to illuminate the way for any one who was out at the late hour. The sky dark with the added overcast that hadn’t waned during the day. Making everything feel pressed down and low, condensing the world to make it feel almost suffocating. Snow soft as it descended. Maybe it was just you, sensitive to the weather and things around you in your anxiety as you turned down the street Joel’s house was nestled on. Just as you turned the corner, feet scuffing on the weathered gravel packed down to create solid paths in the broken asphalt you collided with something hard and lost your balance. The built up snow making it hard to catch yourself.

The scrunch of paper you had wrapped the gift in was loud, ripping at the drag of thick fabric that made up someone’s coat. The index cards fly up into the air as you landed heavily on your side. Through the sounds of the fluttering paper, there was a gasp pitched high that gave way to delirious giggles and a grunt pitched low. Your own indignant noise floating amidst it all, the pull of your stitches uncomfortable.

“My apologies, didn’t see you the- Olive?”

You had run into Joel’s broad back, his front now facing you as the cards rained down to scatter all over the corner. Snow dampening them instantly upon contact, blurring the ink you had taken the time to put down to them.

Behind him was a bright-eyed Marsha, her hands holding tight to one of his. She looked flushed, no doubt from the drinks she had indulged in, leaning heavily into him. And Joel…he looked shocked as he stared down at your fallen form. Either unaware or uncaring of how the woman he was with tried to burrow into his side.

They had been the ones whose voices you heard. But what had they been doing just standing still in the middle of the street….and then it hit you. They had probably been kissing or sharing in casual touches as they walked back from the bar to one of their homes for the evening and your stomach lurched, dropping out from under you.

Joel detached from her, intending to reach down and help you back up. But you didn’t want him touching you with the same hands that had been soft just an hour ago, the same hands that had been touching her with the same intent.

“Don’t!”

“Just tryin’ to help you up,” He backed off immediately, his eyes alert, not used to you raising your voice nor the heat behind your tone. Especially toward him, the hurt making you unable to tamp it down to a polite tone. Tears burned behind your own eyes, in your throat. The perfect match to your insides feeling like they have just been set in a mixer.

“Don’t need your help,” You pushed up from the ground, legs tingling as you fought the urge to run from the awkward and tense scene. And then you realized you could. You did.

Leaving the two alone in the middle of the street, surrounded by white spots of paper all around, the wrapping that had been around them crumpled on the ground. The dried olive leaves that had been fastened to it with twine lay abandoned at their feet.

You ran all the way back to your house, the front door slamming behind you and the lock loud in the silence that followed. Your back thumped against the wood of it, sliding down until your bottom hit the floor.

And you let yourself break down, crying into your hands. Hating how you had begun to believe that your life was going to change, that Joel was going to be something good in your life. And deep down, underneath all the hurt and anger, you still believed he was. Even if he wasn’t meant to be anything other than a patrol partner.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @ohhellotherebumblebee

[riki-riks-chick]

Jungwon gets jealous after you spend time with another guy (innocently tho). Y/n is not a cheater. Wonie is just feeling possessive. 🙃

Trading Times ┃Y.JW

jealous!jungwon x reader

jungwon gets jealous bc yn is hanging out with her childhood best friend.

fluff! jealous jw, best friend jay, no cheater behavior, yn is whipped for jw, kisses, jw doesn't know how special he is to yn.

wdct: 1.6k

tyy for this request ♡

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Third Person POV~

"Hey, Y/n... Do you maybe wanna hang out later?.." Jungwon asks, wrapping his arms around you as you finish up washing the dishes. "Sorry, baby.. Jay is back in town for the week so he asked me to hang out with him so we could catch up." You respond as he pouts. "Then tomorrow?.."

You sigh, turning off the tap and drying your hands before turning to face Jungwon. "Tomorrow I'm supposed to go visit his mom. I haven't seen her in three years... I promise we'll hang out the day after." You answer as he nods. "Okay.. I'll just ask Sunoo if he wants to hang out.."

You smile, giving him a quick kiss. "I have to go get dressed.. Sorry I couldn't go out with you today.." You mumble as he nods. "It's fine.. Have fun."

You then head upstairs, showering, doing your hair, and getting dressed before slipping into your most comfortable sneakers.

After making sure you had everything you needed, you made your way downstairs. Jungwon had just walked out of the kitchen. "You look so pretty, but you're wearing jeans?" He questions, knowing you hate wearing jeans, and you nod. "Yeah, I only wear skirts when I'm out with you.. They're usually pretty short, so I don't wanna risk anyone who isn't you trying to get an eyeful."

He nods at your explanation. "Okay.. Are these at least comfortable for you? They wont feel too tight after you eat?" He asks as you nod. "I'm fine, they're comfortable.. Now I gotta go, bye Jungwon."

You kiss his cheek before grabbing your keys and leaving the house. As soon as he hears the lock click he lets out the biggest sigh.

Within the next thirty minutes, Sunoo comes over and now he's forced to listen to all of Jungwon's complaining.

"Jungwon, it's not that serious.. She's known him since they were in diapers damn near. If they were anything more than friends, you would've never had a chance." Sunoo explains as Jungwon groans. "I'm not that stupid, Sunoo. I know she wouldn't cheat on me.. I'm just jealous because whenever he comes to visit, she gives him all her attention."

Sunoo nods. "I guess so, but you have her attention all the time, right?" He asks and Jungwon sighs. "Who's side are you on?"

Sunoo only laughs in response. "I'm on logic's side, let's just have fun for now."

Meanwhile, you had just met up with Jay at a cafe that you two used to study and hang out at all the time. He's already ordered you a drink, so you sit across from him.

"It's good to see you.." He smiles as you nod. "I know, it always feels like it's been forever. We need to see each other more than once a year."

You two spend time catching up, talking about work and just life in general. Eventually he asks about Jungwon. "So, how's your boyfriend?" He questions as you smile, beaming at the thought alone of Jungwon. "He's great.. I love him so much."

Jay smiles at your happiness. "I have something to tell you." You can tell by his dopey smile that he has good news, so you gesture for him to keep speaking. "I have a girlfriend..."

You light up at the news, reaching over the table to grab his hand excitedly. "Oh my god tell me all about her!"

He tells you everything from how he met her down to how they got together. It's all so endearing to hear since you know how badly his last relationship ended.

After talking for over an hour about life, you both went to an arcade together, playing all the games you used to, except you got to win this time.

When your hangout finally came to an end, you parted your ways, planning to see each other around the same time tomorrow.

You got home at around 5pm, ready to see your boyfriend after thinking about what he was up to all day.

"Jungwon, I'm back." You stepped out of your shoes, setting your keys and your bag down as you walked into the living room.

Sunoo was sitting on the arm chair, and Jungwon was asleep on the couch. Some random movie was playing in the background.

"Hey, Sun." You smile as he waves. "Hey, how was your hang out with Jay?" He asks as you hum. "It was fun. How was your hang out with Jungwon?" You question, moving around the couch to ruffle your sleeping boyfriend's hair.

"It was good, he was complaining for the first hour though." He replied as you nodded. "Sounds about right."

Sunoo decides that he's gonna go home, saying goodbye before leaving. You wake Jungwon up and he's immediately clinging to you. "I missed you.." He pouts, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You chuckle, kissing his temple. "I missed you too.. Let's order something to eat, hm?"

The next day, you're up earlier, because Jay called and said his mom wanted to meet for a late breakfast, early lunch. You agreed simply because you didn't wanna inconvenience his mother.

Jungwon was still sleep when you finished getting ready, so you sat beside him on the bed, shaking him gently. "Jungwon.. Wake up."

He stirs, humming as he wraps his arms around your waist. "Where are you going?.." He mumbles with a pout in his tone. You ruffle his hair. "I'm going to brunch with Jay and his mom.. I'll see you later.."

He nods, kissing your cheek before burying his head into his pillow. You get up, patting his back before leaving.

Your day is spent hanging out with Jay, and catching up with his mother. She tells you about how happy she is that her son is finally in a new relationship, and how she hopes this one ends in marriage.

You're happy to see Jay beaming whenever he talks about his girlfriend, similar to the way he watches you smile whenever you talk about Jungwon.

You end up spending much more time than usual hanging out with Jay, and when you finally get home, it's around 8pm.

You look for Jungwon, not finding him in the kitchen, or the living room.

You know he usually doesn't sleep this early, but you check the bedroom anyway, and surely there's a Jungwon shaped lump beneath your covers.

You kick off your shoes, dropping your jacket somewhere along the way as you climb onto the bed, pulling the covers off of his head. "I'm back, baby.." You leaned down to kiss his cheek, pushing his hair out of his face.

He didn't seem too thrilled to see you. "Wonnie.. What's wrong?" You question as he sighs. "You've been gone all day... I've just been here by myself.. All the while you're hanging out with Jay.." He pouts, turning over to look at you. You frown, leaning against the headboard. "Jungwon.. You know it's not like that.. It's been almost a year since I last saw him.. We just wanted to catch up.." You explained for what seemed like the thousandth time since you first introduced Jungwon to Jay.

He had always gotten jealous, but you thought things were different now. You'd been with Jungwon for almost three years now after all. It seems that he still isn't too fond of your relationship with Jay.

"I just.. I wish I knew you like he did.. He's known you since you were a kid... He has so many memories to share with you, and I hardly just found out that you used to dream of being a famous pianist when you were a kid.. I know I shouldn't, but I get jealous.." He explains, avoiding your eyes as you take his hands in yours.

"I understand.. I know Jay and I are close, but I promise you.. You know me in ways Jay couldn't even imagine.. You know how I kiss, my love language, the playlist I listen to when I shower, and even every step of my skincare routine in order.. You're my boyfriend.. Jay could never beat that.." Jungwon sits up, smiling at your words as he hugs you. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to make you feel bad about it.." He mumbles in your ear, pulling back to kiss your forehead.

You smile brightly at him. "It's okay to be jealous.. I can't imagine how you must feel seeing your girlfriend be close to another guy.. I'm glad that you trust me though.."

He nods, pinching your cheek. "I try not to be to controlling.. Otherwise you would leave me for someone else.."

You chuckle in response. "You know what, next time he said he'd bring his girlfriend so I could meet her.. I'll bring you too and we could have a double date.." You say excitedly as Jungwon nods, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

"That sounds great, baby.."

═════════════

[finelinefae]

Bestie I literally just read flower and I’m OBSESSED and I can imagine y/n trying to turn tattooh into a swiftie whilst he tries to explain the rap beef to y/n 😭

no bc this was such a good and unique idea i had to write a little something for it !!

wordcount: 1.3k

. . .

“Okay, so what was it again?” Y/N asked, a dip between her brows as she fastened the bow on a bouquet of flowers she was completing for a baby shower they had been invited to next weekend. 

“So Kendrick-”

“The guy who featured on Bad Blood?” Y/N double-checked. 

Harry chuckles, “I mean he’s also a Pulitzer Prize winner but that too.” She nods, waiting for him to continue, “So he featured on a song with a bunch of other artists basically taking aim at J Cole and Drake-”

“Oh I know him, he posted a picture of him and Taylor on his Instagram that one time two years ago,” Y/N says. 

Harry nods, desperate to finish explaining to her the current online events he had been obsessively keeping track of over the past twenty-four hours, “Right, right. So anyway,” Harry continued to explain the ongoing tension in the world of rap circling the internet with Y/N nodding a long, nothing but confusion on her face. 

Amongst many things, Y/N and Harry’s music tastes were polar opposites. Whilst Y/N loved pop - Taylor Swift, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo - Harry tended to lean more towards alternate music, genres like rap and grunge or anything before the 2000’s. He loved rock bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam. On their first New Year’s Eve together, they’d spent the entire night at a karaoke bar in the city, four Shania Twain sons deep by the time the clock hit midnight. 

Although they were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to their music tastes, they loved talking to each other about what they were listening to. They would share their weekly Spotify stats over dinner at the end of each week and make playlists for each other to listen to whenever they were taking the train somewhere. 

As Harry finished explaining, Y/N picked up the bouquet and carried it over to where he was sitting, placing it on the table in front of him. 

Even as he was speaking, Harry automatically reached out to slide an arm around her waist beneath her fuzzy, pink cardigan rubbing circles with his thumb over the exposed bit of skin on her hip. 

“That sounds… really complicated, H.” Y/N sighed, “I’d hate to get into an argument like that.”

Harry smiled at how adorable she looked with pouty lips and concern on her face, “Lucky for you flower, y’ much too difficult to get into any kind of argument with.” 

Harry and Y/N rarely had major arguments. Typically, their disagreements were over minor or unimportant matters, often ending with Harry showering her with kisses as an apology or Y/N clinging to him until he forgave her.

“And he wants Drake to die?” Y/N gasps, “That’s awful.”

Harry nods, watching her hands carefully move around the flowers in the bouquet to get them in the perfect place. “Hmm, ‘s not the nicest thing to say to a person,”

Y/N sighed, sitting on his thigh when her legs got too tired from standing. His lips puckered against the base of her exposed neck from where she had tied her curls up with a scrunchie. He inhaled the floral perfume he had bought her for Valentine’s Day. She was obsessed with it, dousing herself in it every morning and before she went to bed.

“Have you listened to Taylor’s new album by the way?” Y/N wondered, turning to hook her leg over his other thigh so she was straddling him. She was pressed between him and the worktop, her arms moving around his neck and fingers fiddling with the curly baby hairs by his neck. 

Harry winced, “Ummm…”

“Harry,” Y/N huffed, “You said you would listen to it so I could talk you through it track by track.” 

“I know! I’m getting to it, y’know I’ve jus’ been busy this week.” Harry stated, which was true. It had been the school holidays and a lot more customers had visited both their shops than usual. 

“The album came out weeks ago,” Y/N said, pushing herself off of him to start putting everything away for tomorrow. 

Before she could take one step, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, “I will, baby - promise, I’ll get to it and then y’ can talk for as long as y’ want all about it. Y’ can even put your pj’s on and show me y’ little dance y’ used to do when I heard y’ havin’ y’ little solo parties before we met,” He smirked against her neck. 

Y/N blushed, clearing her throat and moving away. Her eyes narrowed, “You better.” She walked back to the front desk, “And they weren’t solo parties! Marsh was there too,” She said, referring to her little cat. 

. . .

During her lunch break, Y/N reached for her bag to eat the pasta salad Harry had prepared for her that morning before they left for work. When she unzipped the bag, she found his Star Wars lunchbox inside instead of her own.

She slid off her seat and walked straight to his tattoo shop next door, knowing he had probably mixed up their lunches and ended up with her Cinnamoroll one.

She pushed the door open, expecting to hear the strums of an electric guitar or the low grovel of an indie rock band playing over the Bluetooth speakers. But instead, she was shocked to hear the voice of her favourite singer. 

Her heart soared even before she saw him as she walked past the front desk. "Hey Mike, what's with the music?" She asked as if she didn’t know already.

“Harry insisted he put it on this morning. You have to go in there and tell him it’s killing the vibe.” Mike grumbled, taking a puff of the vape in his hand. 

Y/N smiled, “I quite like it.”

“Of course you do,” He rolled his eyes. 

Y/N walked through to the back rooms where she heard the steady sounds of a tattoo gun. Her eyes found Harry, deeply focused on the design he was tattooing on someone’s wrist. 

Y/N stood to one side and waited patiently, “Okay that’s all done,” Harry clicked his tongue, pushing his chair away and wrapping up the tattoo for the customer. 

After the customer had left, she stepped into the room, “Hi Harry,” She beamed, floating over to him. He looked so cute and cuddly today, wearing a grey sweatshirt and black trousers with his usual Doc Martens and a navy-coloured beanie to cover his curls. 

A smile carved onto Harry’s face, “Hi flower,” He removed his gloves and met her halfway, pulling her into a hug and kissing her softly. 

“Missed you,” She murmured against his lips. 

“Miss you always, flower.” He brushed a loose curl behind her ear, “Thought I wasn’t meeting y’ ‘til later?”

“Oh,” She pulled out the lunchbox and handed it to him, “I think we got our lunches mixed up,” 

Harry furrowed his brows, grabbing the plastic bag with his lunch inside only to find her pink lunchbox instead. He chuckles, “Ah, must have been the early morning getting to me.”

“S okay,” Y/N grins, “I like your music choice by the way.”

Harry smirked, “Promised a girl something,”

“Oh really?” Y/N’s grin deepened, “Well I’m sure she’ll be very happy you kept your promise.”

“I’ve been thinking about her all morning, getting to hear her talk non-stop later about her favourite songs.” He says, her arms sliding up his torso to meet at the back of his back. 

She stood on her toes, his head dropping and their noses brushing together, “All morning?” 

“All the time,” He breathes, “Can’t seem to stop thinking about her since I met her.”

“Hmm, well she’s a very lucky girl.” Y/N murmurs.

His lips met hers, the low light above shining down on them as the Tortured Poets Department came to an end and ‘Lover’ played on shuffle over the speakers of his tattoo parlour. 

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader! Reader, they hate each other, they don't have any reason to, but they hate each other, one day they end up in detention, and they escape from it together, and then Eddie invites reader to his trailer, and they start to smoke, and end up having sex, and after that they have an strange relationship at school, and when the pressure is too much, reader tells Eddie that she likes him, and he doesn't know what to say bc he already liked her, but she was bad with him, so reader tries to escape but, Eddie kisses her (and maybe after that, there's smut)

Love cheerleader reader. I hope this is what you were wanting and that you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun with this. Thank you for requesting <3

Games

⚠️ smut

Eddie and Y/N did not get along. Eddie rolled his eyes whenever she talked, brushed her off constantly, and ignored her. Y/N wasn't sure what she did to Eddie in the first place, she liked him in the beginning. He was cute and she admired how creative he was with his campaign. But he's only ever given her the cold shoulder, so she gave up. She started hating him as much as he hated her.

Eddie had his feet kicked up on the table, leaning back in his chair. Eddie found himself in another day of detention, closing his eyes as he prepared to sleep the hour away.

"Y/L/N, please take a seat." Eddie's eyes snapped open at the sound of Y/N's last name being called. A pleased smile on his face as she slowly walked in and slumped in the chair.

The teacher never stayed, and Eddie was correct when he walked right out the door and locked it. A few other students scattered around.

"Psssst." Eddie hissed, crumpling up a piece of paper as he threw it at her head.

She growled and turned to him, a glare on her face. "Yes?"

"How the hell did you get in here?" Eddie asked, a smirk on his face.

"None of your business." She snapped, turning back around, ignoring him.

Twenty minutes of silence passed, Y/N focused on her homework, and Eddie flicked paper at her over and over.

Eddie sighed and grabbed his stuff, walking over to her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Gonna be a good girl and stay here or you want to get out of here and smoke?"

~~~

That's how she found herself in Eddie's trailer smoking a blunt as they passed it back and forth. She felt the weed in her body, the fuzziness filling her bloodstream as she melted into his bed. Her red eyes matched his as he smiled down at her.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, closing her eyes as she felt relaxation take over.

"I didn't think you could be even prettier." She cracked open her eyes when she felt his breath hitting her lips. He was leaning over her, his red eyes staring down at her. She felt her body heat up under his stare.

"Why do you hate me?" She whispered, trying not to lean up and taste his lips. They were pink and looked soft.

"Because I want you, and I shouldn't." He said, a serious look on his face as he leaned closer. His words went straight between her thighs. She wanted him too, she'd wanted him for so long.

"Why can't you?" But he didn't answer, his lips were on hers before she could think. His right hand wrapped around her neck softly as his left moved down to throw her leg over his waist.

His body fit perfectly between her thighs, her legs wrapped around him as he kissed her deeper. Her head was spinning, and her body was buzzing. She couldn't tell if it was from the kiss or the weed. Her hands tangled in his hair, his tongue pushing into her mouth as he moved his hips into her.

She moaned as she felt him through his jeans pressed against her cunt. The friction of the material rubbed against her thin tights, and her skirt pushed up. Eddie groaned as she yanked on his hair, pulling his head back as she kissed his neck. He shuddered as she sunk her teeth into him, tracing her bite mark with her tongue.

He wished he had the balls to do this sober. Months and months of craving to taste her, feel her, and mark her. He couldn't be bothered to think of the consequences, he had everything he'd been aching for. He kissed down her neck, lifting her shirt as he kissed her stomach softly. He kissed further down, loving the goosebumps that formed on her skin as he softly rubbed her sides. Her skin was warm and soft. He pulled back to rip her tights, smirking as she moaned at his aggression. He moved between her thighs, moving her underwear to the side as he licked up her cunt, his nose breathing her in.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, softly kissing her clit as he pushed two fingers inside of her. He growled at how soaked she was, the sound of her wetness echoing as he fingered her. His tongue worked on her clit, flicking and circling.

She whimpered against him, his fingers pumping inside of her and the feeling of his tongue. She knew the boy had a mouth on him but god, he knew how to use it. Never did she think that Eddie Munson would be between her thighs, giving her the best head she'd ever had.

Eddie hated that he deprived himself of this for so long. Ignoring his feelings and pushing her away. He could have been tasting her all along, smelling her cunt and feeling her clench around his fingers. Her fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer to her as her legs locked behind his head. She panted as she rocked her hips against his mouth, gasping as he shoved a third finger inside of her.

"Yes, fuck, fuck." She moaned, her orgasm building as she squirmed against his mouth.

"NO!" She panicked as Eddie pulled away, spitting on her clit as he smacked her cunt.

"Poor thing." He mocked as her eyes got teary. He stood at the end of the bed as he unbuckled his jeans. Her eyes watched his every move. He took off his shirt and pushed down his jeans and boxers.

Her eyes locked in on him as he crawled on the bed and grabbed a condom from his nightstand. His body was more gorgeous than she thought. More tattoos scattered around, small bits of hair and freckles. The moles on his stomach and the happy trail that led down to a small patch of pubic hair, and lastly his red cock. Bigger than what she imagined, more veins and thick. She grabbed the wrapper out of his hand, rolling it on his cock as he watched her.

He leaned down and pecked her lips, slipping inside of her. He clenched his teeth as her warm cunt clenched around him. She gasped at the stretch, scratching down his back as she adjusted to his size.

They moved in sync. He fucked into her slow, her hips rolling to match his pace. Breathing into each other's mouth as they kissed. Eddie picked up his pace, her legs wrapped around his body. The sounds of their skin filled his bedroom. His headboard smacked into the wall as he went even deeper, trying to find that one spot to make her scream.

Her eyes closed as she lost herself in the feeling. He couldn't help but watch her. The small gasps that left her lips, the way she bit down on her bottom lip, and the scrunch of her nose. He was lost in admiring her that he didn't even notice he was fucking her faster, the scream she let out-snapped him into reality. He could feel the burning in his stomach.

His right hand gripped his headboard, holding himself up as he fucked the orgasm out of her. Her thighs shook and her head snapped back, allowing him to mark her. His lips attached to her neck immediately, more scratches down his back as she soaked his cock with her cum.

Eddie could get lost in the sound of his cock pushing her cum back inside of her. His orgasm closed as she let him take what he needed. He clenched his teeth as he growled. Releasing himself inside the condom. He softly slid in and out of her, watching as her cunt pushed him out.

Her eyes were too heavy to stay open and his body gave out. Landing next to her he took off the condom and tied the top. Throwing it in his trashcan nearby. Her soft breathing took over the silence as she fell asleep.

~~~

Y/N knew it was a dumb idea to take his hand and ditch detention. Now they are in this awkward situation of passing each other and not knowing what to say. He drove her home yesterday in silence, not saying a word as she got out of the car.

He admitted he wanted her, but he hated her because of it. He got what he wanted, so what does that mean? Did he still want her or was it just the one-time sex?

His silence was even worse than his snarky comments. At least then he talked to her. She noticed he covered the mark she left, she hated to admit it stung. Did he want to ignore that it happened? His mark was still on her neck, she didn't bother to cover it because she liked it. But now she's embarrassed that he didn't feel the same.

Word got around that she snuck out of detention with the freak, her friends begging for details. But she lied and said nothing happened. Too embarrassed to admit they fucked and now he wanted nothing to do with her. She didn't need the pity from Chrissy either. The only girl on the team who knew how Y/N felt for Eddie.

~~~

Eddie was stuck. He made the move on the girl, told her he wanted her, they fucked, and she didn't confess a thing. No word if she liked him too or if she wanted him just as much. He didn't know if she still hated his guts or if the sex meant something. In his little fantasy, he thought she'd say something back, admit she liked him and the hate was a cover-up. Admit she wanted him just as bad. But she didn't say anything, and he didn't ask.

Another salt to the wound when he heard from the whispers in the halls that she said nothing happened between them. The bruise on his neck said something different, but he hid it. Embarrassed that she left a mark on him and didn't bother to talk to him about it.

~~~

A week passed and nothing. Y/N didn't know what to do. She wanted to talk to him, admit that she missed him and his silence was driving her insane. But she didn't want to be that girl that couldn't separate sex and feelings.

Friday night was the big football game, and Y/N was not looking forward to sitting on the sidelines and freezing her ass off. She hated that as a cheerleader she couldn't wear warmer clothes to the games.

She cheered as the game went on, surprised to see Eddie in the stands. He never went to any games and she couldn't understand why his eyes were on her the whole time. She felt a little insecure with her uniform, trying to cover herself slightly under his stare.

As the game wrapped up, she headed for her car. As she did, she saw Eddie walking to his van. She debated in her head if she should walk up to him.

"Hey, Eddie?" She said quietly, praying he didn't hear her and she could turn back around. But he stopped and turned around. Blankly staring at her as he fiddled with his keys. She dropped down her bag and stood up tall.

"Gonna say something?" He asked after a moment of silence. She hated how nervous he made her. His aggressive tone made her flinch. He didn't look at her like he did that day. It was like a completely different person. Maybe he only liked her when he was high. The thought brought tears to her eyes. Silently crying as she gathered her courage.

"Was it a mistake?" She asked, her hand covering her mouth as she felt the burn in her throat. She tried her best not to sob in the parking lot as he stared at her. But he didn't say anything.

"Just because I understand if you thought it was and that's why you don't want to talk to me. But I need to know where you stand so I can figure out my own shit."

"Figure out what?" He muttered

"If I need to get over you or not. It wasn't a mistake for me. I've always liked you and I can't even tell if you hate me or like me. " She confessed

More tears fell down her face as he continued to stare at her. His eyes were blank as he blinked over and over.

She gave him another minute, praying he'd say something so she didn't have to force herself to leave.

"Looks like I got what I needed." She spat, bending down to pick up her bag as she turned around. Wiping her face as she marched to her car. She reached for her handle when she was spun around and slammed against it.

She breathed hard as Eddie pressed his body against hers. She fought so hard not to get caught up in her sexual thoughts. She loved feeling him pressed against her, the way he felt inside of her, and the way he kissed.

"It wasn't," he whispered, she shivered as his arm wrapped around her and his hand cupped her ass. He pushed her further against him, his face hiding in her neck as he breathed in her perfume, small kisses to her skin. His other hand traveled down her stomach to reach into her skirt. She wanted to melt into him, but he still didn't tell her what she needed.

"Eddie, no." She moaned, pushing him off of her as she collected herself. Ignoring the coldness that filled where his touch was. "You can't just ignore me for a week, then refuse to talk to me, and now try to fuck me." She argued. Dread filled her bones, maybe all he did was want sex. She quickly turned around, trying to get in her car but his hand pushed the door closed.

He stood behind her, she could feel him breathing down her neck.

"Why did you get detention?" She rolled her eyes at his question.

"Still none of your fucking business."

"Tell me." He demanded.

"For you!" She spat, turning around. "I got detention because I stood up for you. And now I look like a fucking idiot. I protected you, I put myself out there and told you how I felt. And what do I get from you? Absolutely nothing. Next time you want a girl, have the balls to tell her you don't feel anything sober." She went to turn around again, but he held her arm.

"I do like you. None of it was a mistake. I had feelings for you and I knew there was no way in hell the cheerleader would fall for me. So I figured I could push my feelings away if I convinced myself I hated you. But you were so fucking perfect and sweet to me. It just pissed me off even more so I had to get mean. And I felt like dying the second you started hating me too. The feelings never went away, it got stronger. I wanted you so bad but I blew my chances by being a complete asshole to you." He confessed, watching her closely as he continued. "I meant it when I said I wanted you. My feelings don't change for you when I'm sober, it was easier to make the move when I was high. But it's a move I've been dying to make. I'm an idiot and got scared. I told you I wanted you and you didn't say it back. I thought maybe the sex wasn't anything to you and I made a fool of myself. So I ignored it by ignoring you. I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for never telling you I have feelings for you." He nervously watched her.

"You are a huge idiot," she stated, his face fell at her words. "But I'm an idiot for not saying it back. I've had feelings for you forever and it crushed me when it seemed like you'd never like me like that. I appreciate and accept your apology, Eddie." She smiled and Eddie felt the relief run through his bones.

"Can we try this again? Maybe without the games?" Eddie asked.

"Just kiss me." She said, rolling her eyes. A huge smile on Eddie's face as he leaned down to kiss her. She smiled into the kiss as she wrapped her arms around him.

She pulled back with a tiny smirk, another question on her mind.

"And what were you doing at a football game? You hate sports and jocks." Her arms were still around his neck as she asked.

"To have another view of you in a tiny skirt." He winked, slapping her ass as she moaned.

"Perving on me from the stands?" She joked, smacking his shoulder.

"Mhhm wanted to bend you over and take you right there." He growled in her ear, biting her lobe. He grabbed her hand away from his neck and trailed it down to his tight jeans. She moaned as she felt how hard he was, squeezing him.

"Who's stopping you?"

Eddie smirked as he flipped her over his shoulder, grabbing her bag as he walked to his van. She screamed and laughed as he smacked her ass.

She gasped when he opened the van and dropped her in the back. The seats were down and blankets were scattered. He threw in her bag and closed the door. Smirking down at her as he removed his shirt. She sat on her knees as she touched his soft skin. Her mouth attacked his chest as he moaned.

Some games were still fun.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 4

a/n: hey everyone! i know it's been a while but the next part is finally here! not sure how many parts i want this to be bc i dont want to fill up the tag, still waiting to make an ao3 account haha- but anyways im getting a taglist started just of people who have shown interest in this series, if i put you on it and you don't want to be on it just let me know. and ofc if u want to be on it lmk! i also made a playlist if anyone wants to check that out :))

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/60Kll9HCoQru14J18bT21C

series masterlist

word count: 3.9k

warnings: language, suggestive stuff?, alcohol, smoking, emetophobia

Things are extremely awkward with Felix. He’s too nice to kick you out of Saltburn, yet he’s too prideful to apologize, so you two are stuck dancing around each other with small talk and short interactions.

Things with Farleigh, on the other hand, are surprisingly good. You never would have expected how close you two became in the past few days. In fact, you can’t remember the last time he insulted you, at least not in a playful way. You must have bonded over your shared dislike for Felix at the moment.

But for some reason, you worry if you get too close, he might push you away.

Tonight was dinner with all of Sir James’s friends, and as the Cattons tend to call them, the Henry’s. The actual dinner was full of awkward conversations with people much older than you about the future of your life and what you were going to do after graduating college. You actually had no idea what your plan was or what you wanted to do with your life. You used to push all the questions away and blamed it on the fact that graduation was pretty far away. It only recently dawned on you that you would be graduating in about two years. 

After dinner, you sit in the dimly lit living room with Farleigh on the couch as everyone else participates in karaoke. You and Farleigh snicker at some of the guests’ performances, whispering things to each other as if you are judges of some competition.

Eventually, Farleigh sighs and stands to his feet. “I’m going to go smoke,” He tells you, putting his hands in his pockets. He turns and looks at you expectantly. You take it as his way of asking you to come with him, so you stand up and snatch the bottle of wine you were drinking off the coffee table.

You follow him up the stairs, down the long, dark hall and eventually into his bedroom. He shuts the door behind you and draws out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one. “At least open the window,” You walk over to the window and open it to let the smoke out.

“Oh, right. Cause you hate the smell so much.” He rolls his eyes at you as he exhales some smoke. “Weren’t you the one that asked me for one of these the other day?” He points the cigarette at you and you glance down shamefully.

“Yeah. I wasn’t at my best, okay?” You shake your head and slump down to the floor, leaning against the wall and stretching your legs out.

“Okay, sure, miss goody two shoes.” He chuckles and sits down next to you. You take a swig from the wine bottle and sigh, leaning your head back.

“So, Felix…” Farleigh trails off and looks over to you. You continue staring up at the ceiling. “Can we not talk about Felix right now,” You reply, closing your eyes. “We need to,” He says, nudging you.

“What is there to talk about?” You ask, turning to meet Farleigh’s gaze. He presses the cigarette to his lips and inhales. “You said it yourself, that he only hangs out with me out of pity.” 

As he breathes out, the smoke passes over your face but you don’t care. “And what’s your problem with him? It seems like you’ve been waiting for someone to turn on him so you could join in,” You continue, and his eyes tell you that you’ve just read him like a book.

He quickly recovers and remains expressionless. “You’re projecting,” Farleigh responds. “Then why have you been so nice to me?” You ask.

The room goes silent and you are stuck in a moment where time doesn’t pass, it’s just you and Farleigh. His usual cold and dark gaze is replaced by something softer, warmer. Something in the air shifts and you can feel some kind of tension rising.

But then he looks away, breaking eye contact. “Because Felix is just stupid sometimes,” He finally replies, nodding toward the bottle of wine you are holding. You hand it to him and your fingers brush against his.

He takes a drink. “I don’t think he ever had bad intentions. He’s just an idiot,” You consider this. Maybe he’s just extremely out of touch with reality like the rest of the Cattons.

There’s a pause as you think of something to change the subject to.

“So… How about that Sadie girl?” You ask, turning to him with a grin. He gives the wine back to you and you take a quick swig.

Elspeth is, for some reason, attempting to set Farleigh up with a daughter of one of James’s friends. Her name is Sadie, and she is very pretentious and fake, from what you can tell. You hadn’t spoken to her, but you watched from afar as she and Farleigh engaged in a conversation.

“She’s alright,” He shrugs and stands up to press the cigarette out on his ashtray. He sits back down next to you and sighs.

“She was like, hardcore flirting with you,” You chuckle and observe his exasperated expression. “Oh, I know.” He smirks smugly and you roll your eyes.

“That’s weird, usually you hook up with someone the moment they show interest in you,” You smile at the way he frowns slightly. “That’s not true,” He furrows his eyebrows and glances at you. “Okayyy,” You say sarcastically.

A while later, you are still upstairs with Farleigh, but you are now feeling the effects of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. You both had gone downstairs to steal more booze, and you ended up drinking almost all of it. Your whole body feels tingly and warm, and your brain is fuzzy.

You run a hand through your tousled hair and sigh, turning to check if Farleigh is as wasted as you. He seems slightly better off than you, but his dark eyes are half lidded and glossy.

“Do you ever miss Sasha?” He glances at you, seeming surprised at your random question. Sasha is Farleigh’s ex from Oxford, who he had endured a tumultuous and rollercoaster ride of a relationship with. You had met her once or twice, she seemed kind, but slightly possessive.

“Sasha?” Farleigh repeats her name and takes a moment to process it. It seems like memories are returning to him and replaying in his head.

“Sometimes. But not really. She was crazy,” He raised his eyebrows and stared straight ahead. “You guys broke up and got back together, like, ten times,” You giggle foolishly and he turns to look at you, slightly offended by your amusement.

“It was too hard to keep up with,” You sigh after your laughter subsides. 

“I didn’t know you were keeping up,” You make eye contact once again with Farleigh, and this time his gaze is more intense. You can’t tell if it’s one of his usual sarcastic comments or if there was an underlying meaning behind his tone. Your face burns red with the realization that you had been studying his relationship so closely. But, really, everyone in your friend group knew about Sasha and Farleigh’s dumpsterfire of a romance. Break up, random hook ups, they said they love each other, then they argued again.

“It’s just.. what friends do,” You reply, your speech slurred. “Friends keep up with each other’s relationships.” You shrug and wave your hand as if to dismiss the seriousness of it.

“You consider me a friend?” Farleigh chuckles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, what if I do?” Your voice comes out softer than you intended. 

There’s another long moment of silence and prolonged eye contact between you two. The tension is so thick, you can feel it in the air and your heart pounds. It’s almost like you are waiting for who will make the next move. Your brain is all muddled and you can’t seem to think clearly.

Your eyes flicker down to his plush lips and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or not, but your instinct is to kiss him. You grab him by the face, a hand on either cheek, and pull him in, smashing your lips together sloppily. You pull away, shocked at yourself, dropping your hands into your lap as your lips hover over his.

You expect him to be disgusted and stand up and walk away, but there’s a slight pause before he is grabbing you and pulling you back in, kissing you almost aggressively. Like he’s been starved, like there’s not enough of you.

You squeak with surprise before you melt into him, softening as one of his hands travels down to your neck and the other settles on your waist. You both have to gasp for air in between sloppy kisses, but you don’t mind. Your heart races and your hands travel up into his hair, running your hands through his unruly dark curls. You find that you’ve been waiting so long to do that, to feel his hair in your hands.

He bites your lower lip and your eyebrows pinch together. “Sorry,” He mumbles, although his voice disappears into your mouth. You feel yourself losing balance and beginning to fall back onto the floor.

Before you know it, he’s on top of you, refusing to stop kissing you. It’s messy and you know you’re both drunk, but damn does it feel good. The tension feels like it’s being lifted off of you, and it’s relieving. You don’t know how long it will last but hell, you’re enjoying it. Both of his hands have moved to your hips and his fingers are pressing into you.

You feel his lips move from yours, moving down from your jaw to your neck. He’s kissing and sucking on your skin so passionately that you know you will have bruises tomorrow. You moan quietly and you hear him groan in response, his low voice vibrating against your neck.

You attempt to catch your breath as you suddenly feel something in your stomach, something unpleasant. Saliva begins to build in your mouth and it’s like you have an internal clock telling you how much time you have left before you absolutely hurl.

“Far-Farleigh,” You place your hands on his shoulders. You whimper and slightly push up on him. He glances up from your neck, staring up at you in confusion. You can’t deny that you enjoy viewing him from this angle, but you have other concerns at the moment.

“Gonna throw up,” You manage to get out before he’s rolling off of you, allowing you to get up. You clamber to your feet and scramble into the connecting bathroom, barely making it to your knees in front of the toilet before you throw up. 

You grip both sides of the toilet for support as you practically spill your guts, coughing loudly. You would have liked some help or something from Farleigh, but it seems like he has just left you here to deal with it yourself.

You groan and wipe your mouth, sitting up and staring straight ahead in some sort of daze. You eventually come to your senses and stand up, flushing the toilet. You feel dizzy so you grab onto the counter of the sink to not lose balance, catching your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is very messy, and your mascara is slightly smudged around your eyes. Your cheeks are warm and rosy, but in an unflattering way. You look like a wreck. 

When you walk back into his room, he’s gone. You sigh in frustration and press a hand to your aching and pounding forehead. Somehow, you stumble back to your room and flop onto your bed. You managed to avoid the small number of guests left in the house, along with Venetia and Felix. You just want to get some sleep after the shitshow that just happened. And you know you’ll be paying for it in the morning. 

2 YEARS EARLIER

You, Felix, and some of your other friends were gathered at the pub on a Friday night. There was chatter and the smell of cigarette smoke all around you. Felix returned from the bar and handed you a tall glass of beer.

You were focused on Farleigh and the girl who sat on his lap. Her hands were all over him, and he seemed totally enamored with her. She had a short skirt on and her wrists were covered in bracelets. She was pretty, you had to admit.

“Who’s that?” You asked, glancing up at Felix and pointing to the two. “Oh, that’s Sasha.” He replied. “She’s obsessed with Farleigh. And from what I can tell,” Felix sat down, pulling his chair closer to yours, “He’s liking it.”

You chuckled and took a sip of your beer. “Good for him,” You said, shrugging. “Bet they’ve already fucked,” Felix remarked and you snapped your head towards him. “Ew, Felix. That’s none of your business.” You made a disgusted expression.

“What? Everybody shags around here, it’s no surprise,” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Except you,” He added, grinning and nudging you. You rolled your eyes and looked back towards Sasha and Farleigh.

You didn’t want to imagine them… doing that. But for some reason, your mind kept trying to paint a picture of it. You shook your head to clear your thoughts. 

You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you felt jealousy bubbling up inside of you. Why was it so easy for her to get what she wanted? You had liked a few men at Oxford, but you didn’t really even want a boyfriend or a commitment like that.

But as you watched Farleigh and Sasha’s hands intertwine, you felt envious.

“Hey, Felix, who was that guy you were going to introduce me to?” You asked, tapping your fingers against the table. “What? Oh, Joshua? I thought you said you didn’t want to meet him,” He replied. Felix was trying to set you up with one of his friends who seemed like a player. At this point, you didn’t care. It was like you were trying to prove that you could actually get a guy. Prove to who, though?

“I know. I changed my mind,” You said decidedly. “Well, he’s actually here tonight. Would you like me to go grab him?” Felix stood up and pointed towards the other side of the pub. You nodded. “Sure,”

You waited patiently and took a few swigs of beer for confidence. A minute later, Felix returned with a man who was a few inches shorter than him, with fluffy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Freckles were dusted across his nose and his skin was nicely tanned due to the warmer weather of spring. He looked sweet and innocent, but the rumors you had heard about him told you otherwise.

“Hello,” He greeted you, holding out his hand. You stood up to shake his hand, smiling as you introduced yourself. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joshua.” He grinned brightly and Felix seemed amused by the interaction.

“Hi, Joshua.” You tried to make a good first impression, although you weren’t good at this stuff. But it seemed like he was already interested, looking you up and down.

You both sat back down and began small talk about classes and life and friends. Felix left you two alone, but you’re not sure where he went. It was good, talking to someone new, but still a bit uncomfortable since you were so introverted. The conversation flowed nicely between the both of you.

You couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you. You glanced up, seeing Farleigh’s cold gaze drilling into yours, flicking back and forth between you and Joshua. It was like he was waiting to see who would break eye contact first, and of course, it was you. Your gaze faltered down to the table and then back up to Joshua.

“You alright, love?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh. You nodded and your face turned a shade of pink with embarrassment. “Sorry. Just thinking,”

“Hey, what do you say when we go back to my dorm? To just chill, relax, you know.” He tilted his head and you could already tell what he was implying. “Uh- Sure, yeah. Let’s go,” You smiled and stood up, grabbing your bag and walking past him toward the doors. He placed a hand on your lower back as you stepped by him.

You woke up the next morning unsure of where you were before memories of the night before came back to you. You were in Joshua’s bed, tangled up in the sheets, with your clothes off and scattered on the floor.

Your eyes widened as you realized you had lost your virginity to Joshua Brown. You sat up and scratched your head, not sure what to do next.

“Oh my God…” You whispered, looking down at Joshua, who was sleeping on his stomach, his face pressed against the pillow. It didn’t look like he was waking up anytime soon.

You stood up and winced as you realized you were a bit sore. You tried to be as quiet as possible as you picked your clothes up off the floor, hurriedly putting them back on.

Joshua stirred in his sleep and groaned, rolling over. You grimaced as you took your bag off of his desk chair, tip toeing to the door and opening it slowly.

You sighed with relief once you had closed his door behind you and you were safely out in the hallway. You know you probably looked like a wreck, but your main goal at the moment was to get back to your own dorm going unnoticed.

You heard your name being called, fairly close to you. You froze before turning to identify where it came from, and you swear your heart dropped to your ass. Farleigh was standing in the doorway of his room, which was conveniently right next door to Joshua’s, smirking at your frazzled state.

“You should work on keeping it down. I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept hearing you and Joshua.” He chuckled and you could feel your face heating up.

“Sorry,” You muttered, casting your glance downwards to the floor. 

“You finally got some after all,” He teased. “Can you shut up?” You groaned, facepalming and shaking your head. “Oh, I will if you can figure out how to,” He raised his eyebrows. “Was it really that good?” He questioned.

You considered the question. You didn’t really know if it was or not, you were just trying to be loud because you thought guys liked that. Were you satisfied by the end? No. But Joshua certainly was.

He seemed to notice your puzzled expression and he nodded. “Oh. So the rumors are true about him.” You tilted your head with curiosity. “What rumors?” You asked.

“Oh, you poor thing.” He cooed sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms. “Well, you’d better get back to your place so you can study,” Farleigh mocked. “Make up for that time you lost last night, huh?”

“Can you just not tell anyone? Please?” You knew it was useless asking him not to tell. He had the biggest mouth in the whole class. He just snickered at your pleading and stepped back into his room and shut his door.

That night you hung out with Joshua in his dorm once more, but you told him you didn’t want to have sex again. He respected your decision, so you were just drinking some alcohol with him and making out occasionally.

“Yeah, I don’t really know what I’m going to do with an English degree. I just had to pick something.” He shrugged. You were talking about your futures after Oxford and what you were both majoring in.

“Hm. Well, there’s a lot you could do,” You replied, trying to reassure him, although you weren’t too sure yourself. “You could be-” Your sentence is cut short by a loud moan coming from the room next to you.

“Ah, shit. It’s Farleigh and Sasha again,” Joshua shook his head like it was a regular occurence. “They’re usually at it for a while,” He informed you. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Some odd, depraved part of you wanted to stay and listen. “No, that’s alright.” You shrugged. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

The walls seemed paper thin. You swear you could hear every little noise, like the bed springs squeaking and the wanton sounds that came from Sasha. But then you heard something different. It was Farleigh, whimpering and moaning in a way that you couldn’t even believe what you were hearing. You didn’t know men could make sounds other than grunting during sex, let alone sounds like that.

“Oh fuck,” You heard him breathe heavily and Sasha was practically screaming at this point. 

“Damn. They’re really getting into it,” You whistled and raised your eyebrows. Joshua nodded. “I wish I was as good as people say he is,” Joshua looked down. “What?” You asked as you tried to ignore the continuous noises. He was really telling you to be quieter earlier today?

“Farleigh. People say he’s really good in bed,” Joshua explained. You were surprised that he was okay with discussing this with you. “Oh.” You chuckled nervously. You didn’t expect that, but for some reason it made sense. “Was I bad?” Joshua asked suddenly.

You froze at his question and wondered if you should tell him the truth. “I mean… I don’t really… know the difference, you know? It was my first time, remember?” You told him. He nodded but you could tell he seemed hurt and defeated.

“Right,” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and you leaned back in your chair. You could say this was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life, having to listen to Farleigh fuck some girl while having an awkward conversation with the man you had a one night stand with.

The next day around noon, you were walking to a café near campus when you saw Farleigh walking ahead of you on the sidewalk of the cobblestone streets.

An idea popped into your head and you smiled mischievously, jogging to catch up with him. When you appeared at his side, he glanced down and made a face.

“Are you following me?” He asked, glaring at you as you fell into step next to him. “No. I just had a complaint,” You tried to hide the smile threatening your face. “What’s that?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Me and Joshua were trying to have a nice conversation last night,” You started, and his playful expression immediately dropped. “Maybe try to keep it down next time, right?” You grinned and he stopped in his tracks.

“You were there last night?” He seemed annoyed and a little bit shocked. “Yeah.” You nodded and stopped next to him. “I mean, I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts,” You laughed to yourself and he narrowed his dark eyes at you.

“And it wasn’t even Sasha as much as it was you–” “Keep your mouth shut,” He ordered, and you knew you got a rise out of him. “Practice what you preach, that’s all I’m saying,” You waved and skipped along the sidewalk, leaving him standing there in shock.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld

[hoaxriot]

SEVEN DEVILS

pairings. regulus black x fem!reader

summary. you had one task and so did he but neither of you could finish it.

warnings. mention of death, murder, torture, abuse. smut.

notes. this is not a magic story, death eaters are the same but without wands and magic. it’s a long one and I’m very proud of this😭. there’s not an exact timeline on when this takes place bc tbh idk. reader and regulus are not the best people!!!!!!!! pls remember this is fiction. i feel like i kinda lost the plot at the end?? 😭

Kill regulus black. Kill him. Get him alone and kill him.

Those words rung through your head as your stared at him from across the room, holding onto a glass of champagne. It was the blacks annual big party and you had found your way into receiving an invitation, after many tries — this was your only chance.

Regulus Black was a death eater, he was who you hated. You didn’t care why he chose to be it, he was and you were sent to kill him. Looking down at your glass before bringing it to your lips to finish the drink, setting it down on the table next to you.

You had done this before but now you’re heart was beating and your hands were sweating as you stared at the man. You felt eyes on you causing you to turn you head, Sirius Black was looking at you. Licking your lips as you turned your head to look at a painting on the wall.

Jesus, there was no way you could do this tonight. Sirius could act like he didn’t care much for his brother, he watched everyone that came close to him. Regulus also always had two friends by his side that you’ve learned to be Barty Crouch jr. and Evan Rosier. You were not killing him tonight.

You sighed knowing the consequences, walking through the crowd to the front door. You felt someone grab your wrist, tugging it away as you turned around to see regulus black standing in front of you.

You name fell from his pink lips softly, you furrowed your eyebrows as to how he know your name.

“Black.” you replied dryly with a smile.

His lips turned upwards, “leaving so soon? the food hasn’t come out yet.” Regulus spoke gesturing towards the tables scattered across the room.

You looked around, Evan Rosier stared at you. Putting on your best smile as you wiped your hands on your black lady dress. W as you smiled, without a word you walked away.

A man wearing an all black suit opened the large doors for you, sighing as the cool air hit your face walking towards the car across the street.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the man next to you immediately yelled slamming on the seat in front of him as the driver drove away.

Flinching at the loud noise, “I’m sorry, sir. he has a lot of eyes on him.” Your explanation meant nothing to him as he slapped you.

“You never fail to disappoint me.” He spat making you shrink into the seat. For the rest of the drive home, he continued to jab at you, you stayed quiet knowing not to upset him.

He had took you into his home after your parents were killed by death eaters, he taught you everything you know. Kill them and you’ll eventually get the revenge on the right person— in your mind it was right because of how much he said it, it drilled into your head.

The next day, you lived a normal life working at a bakery with a guard across the street watching you. If you were sent to kill someone, you were obviously on someone’s list too.

“Hey, someone’s at the counter.” Savannah, your coworker said as you sat in the small office.

Turning around in the chair, “why can’t you take them?” you said annoyed, you were on your break, “I have to clean the bathroom— unless you want too.”

“No.” you spoke standing up, walking past her and behind the counter.

Regulus stood in front of it with his two goons behind him, “My friends told me about this place, said it was quite good. i’ll take the best thing on the menu.” He voice remained monotone, you wondered if he ever sound excited about anything.

“Of course.” you smiled, what the fuck was he doing here?

“Here.” you said handing him the bag as he handed you the money.

“Hope you enjoy, have a good day.” Speaking sweetly, but deep down you were scared he knew you were sent to kill him.

Regulus stayed as his friends walked away, “may i help you with anything else?”

“Dinner at seven.”

The hell did he just say?

“Sorry?” you heard him but you were way beyond confused.

“Let me take you to dinner, tonight at seven.” Repeating himself, you were about to shut him down and say no before you remembered your assignment.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Where?” You asked putting on your best smile even though you were terrified. Of course you knew who Regulus Black was but never once has he even batted an eye at you.

He chuckled, “write down your address and i’ll pick you up.” you nodded writing it down on your notepad before ripping it off and handed it to him.

“Thank you, I’ll see you at seven.” he winked as he walked away.

After work you went home to get ready realizing you had no idea what to wear, deciding to wear a simple dress.

You got ready and waited for almost an hour, maybe you got ready too early. Looking at your clock reading 7:45.

Sighing as you opened your balcony door, grabbing the cigarettes on the small table and lighting one. You watched the streets hoping for him to show, you groaned to yourself realizing you were waiting for him, not waiting to kill him.

A black car pulled in front of your home, regulus came out from it. You took one last hit from your cigarette before putting it out, walking back into your house and spraying perfume on as he knocked on your door. Running your hands on your dress to smooth it out, opening the door to see him dressed so nice compared to you but that’s just how he dressed all the time, dressed like he was going to a formal.

“You look beautiful.” He spoke as he looked you up and down.

Smiling tightly, “you’re late.” he laughed under his breath.

“I got lost. you live in a weird place.” he smiled, holding his arm out for you to take. You stared at it for a few seconds before intertwining your arm with his as you shut your door.

The walk to the car was quiet, the car ride was quiet you got antsy. Regulus noticed placing his hand on top of yours, you looked at him, he smiled at you. Regulus Black actually smiled at you— you almost forgot you were meant to kill him tonight. An awkward smile came to your face as as you turned to look at the window.

The car came to a stop, regulus stepped out and walked around the car to open your door. again, he put his arm for you to take it. “I’ll be around the block, Mr.Black.” The driver said before he pulled off.

The two of you walked into the restaurant, straight to the back into a secluded corner. The place was nice, too nice for you that you felt out of place. Regulus pulled the chair out for you, once he did he sat down in front of you.

Regulus started conversation, it went smoother than you thought it would. The two of you laughed throughout the dinner, even as the food was brought.

“You interest me.” He said, your name spilling from his lips.

You laughed lightly taking a sip from you glass, “why’s that, Black?” you questioned with a smile.

Regulus shrugged, “I feel like you have a lot behind your name. Your story. No one knows about it.” He spoke softly but questionably like he quite didn’t know what he was saying.

“They don’t,” you said with a smile. “Only—“ you said before clearing your throat cutting yourself off.

Regulus furrowed his eyebrows leaning back into his seat, “only?” he said with a questioning tone. His eyebrows raised quickly.

“Nobody. i don’t have anybody to know my story.” You said looking down at the table, only one person did but if you said that name regulus would probably take the knife sitting in front of him and put it in your chest.

“Hm. why?” Regulus asked leaning forward, he seemed genuine. you looked at him, his eyes showed interest.

You signed downing the rest of your wine, “i only had my parents, never had any friends. they died two years ago in a car accident,” death eaters tortured your mom as your dad was forced to watch, tortured her until she could no longer take it, then simply killing your dad but watching your mother go through that had already killed him. “Then my uncle took me in.” Liam Williams took you in, his daughter was killed by death eaters so he had found people who went through the same thing and found revenge.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry,” you laughed. “That was deep.” You spoke with a tight smile.

“No it’s okay. I’m very sorry for your loss, i couldn’t imagine.” he wouldn’t give a shit if his parents died, he would be free.

Regulus stood up, instead of his arm he put his hand out. “don’t you have to pay?” You asked causing him to chuckle.

“My dad knows the owner, they don’t like us to pay.” He explained, you felt bad not paying but took his hand. the car was waiting for you two outside the place.

After getting into the car, you realized you enjoyed regulus blacks company, he made you feel heard. “I kind of don’t want the night to end.” You said softly, you wanted him to hear you but at the same time you didn’t.

Regulus turned to you as you stared at the seat in front of you, “me either,” you made him feel wanted, he hadn’t felt that in so long. “Why don’t you come back to my place?” he suggested.

“I’m not sleeping with you.” You stated making him laugh. “Just to hang out, but you also never know.” He said, turning your head to look at him, he had a teasing look on his face making you laugh, agreeing to come home with him.

The car pulled into his long driveway, you knew the blacks were rich but hell, his house was huge. Regulus’ hand held onto yours as you walked to his front door.

As soon as the door shut, he shoved you against the door and his lips were on yours. You froze until his hands squeezed your hips, your hands came to his neck pulling him closer to you as you finally kissed back ignoring everything you said ten minutes before. One of his hands came to hold yours face.

Regulus pulled away, “jump.” He breathed out against your lips. You did as he said, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held onto you. Regulus walked through his house, you put your head into his neck kissing it, feeling him harden and his quiet groans in your ear.

Once he made it to his room, he set you down and immediately started kissing you again. You opened your lips as his tounge explored you, you began to undress him of his coat throwing it onto the floor. One of his hands drew the straps of your dress down, not wearing a bra your boobs fell out once he continued to slide the dress down. Regulus took his shirt off, guiding you to lie down.

He kneeled down kissing right above your underwear, whimpering as he made his way up taking one of your tits into his mouth.

“Reg..” you whispered grabbing a handful of his locks, “yeah,baby?” He said looking up with low eyes.

“I need you,” you said hungrily, Regulus hummed dragging his fingers from your chest. His fingers slide into your underwear, feeling your wetness he groaned. you squinted under his touch, his fingers rubbed circles on your clit.

You moaned feeling him slide his finger through your folds, “god, you’re so beautiful.” Regulus breathed out as he looked down watching his fingers pump in and out of you, he kissed your chest. He curled his fingers making your arch back as you pulled on his locks, Regulus tilted his back to watch you, your eyes closed with your mouth opened, filthy noises coming out of it as you breathed heavily.

You hadn’t had sex in almost a year, you were already closing feel the build in your stomach. He knew the way you clenched around his fingers and your fingers tightening on his hair.

“Cum for me, love.” He whispered kissing your neck, chest, and face, no doubt leaving marks. “Fuck, regulus.” Moaning loudly as his fingers worked fast, his thumb rubbing all the right places. The tension in your stomach snapped as your orgasm hit you, coming on his fingers.

Your chest fell up and down as he rode your orgasm out, you whimpered as he pulled his fingers out grabbing his face. You smashed your lips onto his, grabbing him. The kiss was messy and full of want. As he kissed you, you pulled your underwear down as he tried to work on his pants without breaking away from you.

He struggled making you laugh, he started to with you as he pulled away to stand up. He unbuckled his pants pulling them down with his boxers, you didn’t have time to be shocked at his size as he hovered over you. He lined up to you, the two of you stared at each other with heavy breaths.

“Regulus?” You questioned the look in his eyes, “We don’t have to do this.”

“What? No, I want this. I- I just haven’t done it in a long time.” He confessed, you smiled, “me either.” The two of you let out a breathy laugh.

You felt the tip of his cock brush against you making you gasp lightly, he began to slowly push himself into you making you both moan. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck, “Fuck.” He groaned out.

You held your breath getting used to his size, “You feel so good, Reg.” You whispered holding the side of his neck, he moaned at your words.

“I know, you feel so fucking good, so tight.” He groaned kissing and sucking on your neck. “Can I move?” He asked rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

“Please.” That all, he pulled out then pushed back in hard but slow making you moan out loudly. He kept the same rhythm, his hand that held your face slowly slid down to your neck testing the waters. Regulus watched you, you looked into his eyes as you moved his hand to where he was choking you with the right amount of pressure.

Regulus smirked as he adjusted himself, the new position made you moan. Regulus had been matching your noises and you loved it, it made you approach your orgasm quicker.

You clenched around him, “oh, fuck.” Regulus whimpered as he fell into your neck again.

“I’m close, fuck. Reg. Keep going, just like that.” You moaned out scratching his back with your nails.

“Yeah? Cum for me again, baby.” He spoke as his fingers found your clit again rubbing it, your nails dug into his skin making him groan.

The band in you snapped, your legs shook around him as his rhythm got messier. “Fucking hell,” your name fell from his lips like you were a goddess. “Ah, fuck.” You felt him twitch in you making you moan, “Reg, I’m gonna cum again. You’re so good.” Your words set him off, his moans and groans in your ear set you off.

After a few seconds, Regulus pulled out and he laid down besides you bringing the sheets to cover the both of you. The two of you laid there, fucked out and ended up falling asleep in each others arms.

You woke by the sun beaming into your eyes through his large windows, you hummed lightly. You felt arms snaked around your waist, looking down your eyes widened.

The god forbidden mark engraved into his skin, reminding you of everything bad that happened to you in your life. You felt ashamed that you had slept with him, but he treated you so well.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

You threw his arms off of you, not caring if it woke him up. Grabbing your dress to slip it on, you heard him whisper your name groggily rubbing his eyes as he sat up in his bed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whispered looking around for your heels, seeing you so distressed made him confused.

Regulus stood up, putting his boxers on, “What’s wrong?” He questioned, taking a step forward as you took two back.

“You. You’re what’s wrong.” You pointed to his arm, he didn’t have to look to know. “Jesus,” you muttered slamming his door open and walking down his stairs.

Ignoring the calls of your name, you open his front door. “Oh my god, oh my god.” You pull out your phone, pressing on Liam’s contact.

“Liam. Pick me up, please.” You said into the phone through breaths once you realized he answered.

You heard a breath through the line, “Liam’s not gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.” A dark voice said making you gasp, stuttering over your words you heard a crunch behind you. Turning around, Regulus stood there.

“Bring her to my dad.” He said shakily, you shook your head as two people came beside you. “No!” You yelled as you elbowed one of them in the face, then punching the other one. You looked at Regulus before running, you didn’t make it past his mailbox before you ran into someone.

Orion Black stood in front of you, he smirked bring a cloth to your nose. The world faded away from you within seconds, you felt like you were meeting death.

You woke up groggily, you felt glued to the floor, the cold dirty floor. You swore you heard your name being said but still couldn’t come to open your eyes.

Kill her. Get her alone and kill her.

Those words rung through Regulus Blacks mind as he stared at your body that was covered in dirt and blood. His fist clenched against his sides, you were Regulus’ mission— you killed many death eaters alongside Liam Willams and many other. Yet, when he got to know you he couldn’t kill you. His mom slapped him and called him stupid

‘You’ve only known her for two days.’ She spat at in his face, now he watched you try to come to your senses.

“Black, step away from her.” Williams spoke from behind him, like he gave a shit. He looked over his shoulder to glare at the man.

“Regulus?” Your hoarse voice got him to look back, “please, I don’t wanna die.” You whispered, you were sore everywhere and couldn’t move.

Regulus tilted his head to the side, “yeah? But you wanted to kill me? You’ve killed a lot of people.” His words spat at you like venom, puncturing every part of you. Never once did you think this day would come.

“You people, sick people killed my parents. Killed innocent people.” Anger boiled in your body somehow giving you energy to sit up, now face to face with Regulus.

“What’s the difference between them killing your parents then you killing more than that. This sick man behind me, has manipulated you into thinking this is—“

A loud slam cut his sentence off, “Step away from her, Regulus.” His father said, he immediately straightened his back and stood by his father.

“Sweetheart, do you know the punishment for killing all those people?” Orion smiled mimicking his son’s actions before, leaning down to look at you. You felt small under his gaze.

He cocked his head to the side as you avoided his eye contact. “Hm? We make you feel the pain of every single person you killed, that’s a lot, right?” Orion smirked, “Y’know, I kinda wished we found you first. You’re a good one.” You felt like puking as the man spoke.

Next thing you know, three men and one woman walks into the room with smirks on their faces. You look to Liam for answers, he just stares back to you making you open your mouth in shock— he promised to protect you from this.

“These three are family members of who you’ve killed, so they’ll be here to enjoy the show— while also joining. “ Orion makes a noise, “but the star of the show— my dear son. Regulus. I’m so proud you, son. You’ve made me and your mom so proud. Tom will be thrilled to hear you caught her.” Orion grabbed Regulus face who flinched, you now realized this was some sick family shit.

Regulus turned to look at you over his shoulder, you had tears flowing down your stained cheeks. Tears prickled his own eyes, he finally found someone he felt like he could know and grow to even like. He also had never fucking killed someone, he just was handed simple missions.

“Please, no.” You begged, a woman with curly hair came to you, she grabbed your face making you whimper. “Shut up, girl. You will suffer the consequences of your actions!” She shouted in your face, you desperately tried to pull away from her face as her nails dug into your skin.

She finally pulled away, you breathed out in relief but quickly gasped again seeing Regulus stand behind her with something in his hand. “Only on one condition will I kill her, father.” He said staring into your eyes, you pleaded quietly.

“It’s just me, I’ll allow you but I don’t want them here.” He smiled at you causing you to furrow your eyebrows,

“Reg—“

“Father, I will not do it.”

Liam chuckled from the corner, “Shut up. You three out.” Regulus smirked, handing you the metal bar in his hand. You took it with the handcuffs around your wrists, your hands shaked.

‘Do it.’ He mouthed to you, shaking your head with tears. A sob escaped your lips, from behind Regulus it seemed normal.

“Fucking hell, just do it!” Liam yelled catching Orion’s attention, you squeezed your eyes shut slamming the bar against Regulus’ ankles, he groaned falling to the ground.

Orion looked at you, he had no weapon but you were locked to the wall. He walked towards you, as soon as he got in arms length you smashed the bar against his head, he fell to the ground with a loud groan. Regulus dug into his father’s pockets grabbing the keys, tossing them to you.

Your heart beat quickened as you struggled to put the key into the hole because your hands were so shaky. You gasped out once you heard the click and the freeing feeling around your wrists.

“Run.” Regulus spoke, you looked at him as he stared at his father, confused on what to do.

You crawled to him, “Regulus, please. We can go.” You whispered, “You don’t have to do this, we can live.”

“We won’t get out of here alive.” Those words made your stomach drop, “I’ve done the unthinkable, you are wanted by every death eater. Even if we do, we won’t be alive for long.” Regulus looked at you through his eyelashes, tears brimmed his eye-line, like he didn’t want them to fall.

“I’m tired of fighting this,” he whispered causing you lips to frown. “Everyday is a battle and in the end I know I won’t end so just go, I’ll give you time to run.” Regulus was doing a lot for you even after the two of you were sent to kill each other.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. Sirius Black and his friends stood in the frame. The older black brother pointed a knife at you, “Get the fuck away from my brother.”

You immediately fell back, he stormed towards you grabbing your shoulders pulling you up and pushing you up against the wall, feeling the knife against your throat making you gasp.

“Sirius—“

“You think you can get away? You tried to kill my brother.” You whimpered as he pushed the knife harder against your throat.

“I-i know, I’m sorry, sorry. I just- fuck, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do anything, just please don’t kill me. I ha-haven’t lived! Oh my, I really don’t wanna die.” You begged, you knew you sounded stupid but you did not want to die.

Sirius looked at you questionably as you squeezed your eyes shut, he slowly let the knife fall from your neck, you let out a breath without realizing you held your breath the whole time.

You saw Liam move from the corner of your eye, you wanted to kill him. He hadn’t done one thing to protect you like he’d sworn, “C’mon, little one. Come get me out of these things.” He spoke catching everyone’s attention, you scoffed.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” You spat, Sirius cleared his throat.

“We don’t have time for this, we gotta leave.” He spoke, everyone nodded, Regulus didn’t. He continued to stare down at his father, you had taken away someone just like someone had done to you.

Sirius knelt down whispering to his brother, you stared at the other people. You probably looked insane, a dress that had ripped up, makeup messed up, and hair crazy. You also had bruises covering your body, blood smothered everywhere.

“Lets go—“

“Woah! What about me?!” Liam yelled, you stopped dropping the keys onto the floor— too far for him to reach as you followed the group out of the house, everyone stopped once they reached outside.

You shivered at the cool air, “Can I go home?” You said shakily causing everyone turn to you, some of them with hatred and some with pity.

“Yeah, just don’t let me catch you anywhere near us.” Sirius spoke, you nodded, he actually scared you. You looked at Regulus who was already staring at you, you smiled before you turned around and began walking.

Silent tears began to fall, there was a long road but you didn’t care. Everything was numb, you couldn’t fell the concrete on your bare feet. You wished Sirius had killed you or Regulus killed you the first time he’d saw you. There was nothing to live for anymore.

[not-neverland06]

haunted past

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

a/n: WARNING: loose recollection of the movie bc I don’t have the energy to rewatch it lol. I’m not planning on following games/book lore bc I don’t have the time to rewatch the eight-hour YouTube video covering it all. So, forgive me if I take some creative liberty. (Dark subjects following the themes of the movie/games below the cut, including the murder of children)

Summary: You'd thought you'd left the past behind. You never thought you'd be back at this place. It's the source of your every waking nightmare and the worst day of your life. Freddy Fazbear's is the catalyst of where your life went wrong, but when Abby's life is on the line, you have no other choice. Can you survive another night at Freddy's? (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

The door creaks open, one eye peeking through the crack. Mike taps his foot impatiently. He glances briefly down at Abby. She’s practically giddy with excitement as she waits for you to open the door. He knows it's only because you’ll let her watch whatever she wants on TV and don’t enforce bedtime. 

He hates having to resort to bugging you about this. It’s not like he can pay you for all the times you’ve watched his sister. Relying on you for free labor isn’t exactly the best lead into asking you out—not that he thinks you’d actually give him a chance. 

“Christ,” you prop the door open, just barely wide enough for your frame to fit in. You’re not especially welcoming. “What do you want now?”

Abby breaks free from his hold. She shoves through you and rushes into your house. You scoff, turning slightly to watch her. Mike rubs the back of his neck and grimaces. “Don’t tell me,” you stop him before he even gets a chance to start. “You’re back for unpaid labor?”

Mike’s face screwed up, even if it’s true, it still stings to hear. “Look, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t-”

“Do this if you didn’t have to,” you finish for him. With a brief sigh, you close the door and step outside with him. You’re in some of the skimpiest shorts he’s ever seen and an inappropriately flattering tank top. He’s struggling, as he usually does, not to just bolt. 

He finds you hard to talk to. Not just because of his usual aversion to the general public, but simply because of how intimidating you are. Besides your already blunt personality, he’s rarely ever had a crush this intense before. It’s hard to stomach these feelings, especially when he knows there’s nothing to be done about it. 

“I’ve heard the spiel before, Mike.” His face screws up at the bluntness of your words. You’re normally like this but you seem especially annoyed tonight. You take a seat on the rocking chair on your tiny porch and nod towards the other one. He takes it as a win that you’re not just kicking him to the curb.

You’ve made this place a home more than he’s bothered to. You’ve got a few potted plants littered around the porch, chairs, and your little glass table with an ashtray he’s never even seen you use. You don’t seem like a plant kind of girl, but they're doing better than any he’s ever attempted to take care of. 

“What is it this time, anyway? And what happened to your other babysitter?”

He rolls his eyes at the mention of Max. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with her all day. She just left Abby home alone the other night.” Your eyes narrow with anger and you let out a loud huff. 

“What a bitch,” you mutter, tucking your legs into your chest. 

Mike shrugs and picks at the hem of his sweatshirt. He hates talking to you, he doesn’t know how to. He never knows if what he’s saying is irritating you or not, you’re so hard to read. He barely knows anything about you, yet you’re the closest thing to a friend he’s ever got. 

“I’ve got a new job-”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you interrupt, and you almost sound… hurt? He doesn’t want to read too much into it, but he still offers you a whispered apology anyway. 

“I’ve been pretty busy, all this shit with my aunt and rent,” he gestures vaguely to his house across from yours and lets out a tired sigh. His head falls into his hands and he scrubs his hands down his face. He hates burdening you with his problems. It’s not on you to be his on-call babysitter and therapist. 

You place a light hand on his arm and for a moment he thinks he might be dreaming. You lean forward, forcing him to meet your eye. “Rent? Look,” your face screws up awkwardly and you force the next words out, “I’ve got money.”

“No,” he immediately interrupts, jerking away from your touch as his face sets in anger. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a beggar. He’s not telling you this to get a handout. “No, I don’t want your money.”

You scoff and cross your arms, glaring at him. “I’m not offering it freely. Consider it a loan, alright?” He opens his mouth and you cut him off with a pissed-off look. “Just shut up and wait here.” You get up, slipping back inside your home. He hears you through the open window as you greet Abby. 

“How’s school?” You ask, rummaging through something. 

“I don’t know, fine,” she answers vaguely. 

He can hear you scoff in amusement, “Yeah, I hated school too.”

“Mac and cheese later?”

The door opens and you call a, “Sure, kid,” over your shoulder. It’s another reason he likes bringing Abby over to your place. You seem to be the only person she’s willing to give more than two words to. Besides, you can actually get her to eat somehow. 

You approach him with a slip of paper in your hand. You shove it into his unwilling hands and he lets out a rough sigh when he sees it’s a check. “Don’t argue,” you snap, sitting back in your chair and refusing to make eye contact with him. “You’ll pay me back.”

He says your name and you shake your head, clearly uncomfortable. “Forget it, just tell me about the new job.”

He scratches the back of his head, debating whether or not he should thank you for the help. It’s not a lot, he knows you’ve got about as much to spare as he does, and he’ll still need to finish this job. However, it is enough to put some food on the table without worrying about every penny. 

Still, you look incredibly disturbed by your own generosity, so he pockets the check and figures he’ll think of a different way to thank you. “It’s a security gig.”

“Really?” You smirk and turn towards him. “Someone hired you after what happened at the mall?” You give him a disbelieving look and he can feel the way his face heats up in embarrassment. 

“Yeah, well it’s pretty creepy. It’s at the old abandoned pizza place. Freddy Fazbear’s.”

Any amusement on your face is drained and you give him a horror-struck look. “What’d you say?” You whisper, voice stricken by something he can’t decipher. For a moment, he doesn’t even want to answer you. 

You’re completely unrecognizable, the usual stoicism he faces is replaced with absolute terror. “Um,” his brows scrunch in confusion and he clears his throat awkwardly, “Freddy Fazbear’s.”

Abruptly, you jump up from your seat and rush away from him. He watches as you run back to the door, his confusion only rising. He calls out your name but you just shake your head. “I gotta head inside, watch the kid.” It’s a rushed excuse and one he sees right through. “You should go.”

He doesn’t get a chance to question you as you slam the door closed. He gets up, but the lock clicks, and the window slams shut. Mike stands in front of your house, absolutely shocked by what just happened. He’s too confused to be concerned, wondering how what he just told you could have elicited that reaction. 

With a low exhale he turns on his heel and walks back to his car. He throws one last glance over his shoulder at your house, but you’ve clicked off the porch light, completely blocking him out. 

He shakes his head in astonishment, getting in the car and driving off to the pizza place. What the hell was wrong with you?

You’re glad Abby is in the bathroom as you catch your breath. Your back is plastered to your door, chest heaving as you fight off the oncoming panic attack. The last thing you need right now is her pestering you about what’s wrong. 

You clench your eyes shut, but when you do all you see is a golden back and the sharp glint of a knife. Your hand drifts towards your abdomen, subconsciously lingering over the scar. Your eyes shoot open and you shake your head, trying to force the memories of the night away. 

You haven’t heard that name in years, haven’t thought of it. You’d thought you’d gotten rid of it entirely. You should have known better, it was always going to haunt you. If you were less of a coward you would have moved away years ago and let the past be buried entirely. But you just couldn’t fully let him go, could you? 

The sink runs and the door is thrown open as Abby comes back to the living room. You force yourself away from the door and offer her a tense smile. Her eyes narrow in suspicion and it’s the first time you’ve despised how clever she is. 

“What’re you drawing?” You rush the words out, voice tight and panicked. You just need to distract yourself. You need to think about anything but that damn place. 

Her suspicion gives way to her typical eagerness to shove her sketches in your face. You don’t know much about kids, but you know she’s not what people consider normal. Not that you mind. However, you’ve never been a big fan of children in general, they bring about bad memories for you. Watching Abby so regularly was happenstance when you greeted Mike as they moved in. 

You’d never been the type to have freshly baked cookies and a welcome wagon for everyone in the neighborhood. For the most part, you all pretty much steered clear of each other. But Mike was cute and you felt like flirting for a little bit. 

You hadn’t expected him to be quite so awkward, or for there to be a kid. In a desperate attempt to end the conversation and escape how stilted the whole thing was, you offered help if he ever needed it. And he needed a lot. 

Now, your weekends have turned from one-night stands and hanging out with people you barely consider friends, to watching cartoons with a kid. You don’t mind it, but you’d prefer it if her brother were there to join you both. His stunted personality has a certain charm you find yourself drawn to. 

“Here,” Abby takes a seat on the floor and you join her. You tap your fingers against your thigh, trying to soothe your heartbeat back to a normal rate. Your mind is racing in a million different directions as you take the picture from her. 

It doesn’t help, if anything, you feel even worse. Bile and terror make for a bad combination as you stare down at her crudely drawn “friend.”

“That’s Freddy,” she tells you. “Chica, and Bonnie,” she’s all smiles as she points to the different caricatures. All you can do is nod, eyes peeled on the blue bunny. 

“You’ve been with Mike to the new job, huh?” Your voice is airy as you flip the paper over and shove it away. Abby frowns, snatching it back from you and smoothing out the wrinkles your grip left behind. 

“No. These are my friends.” 

Terror makes way for concern as you slowly turn towards her. “What?” You ask quietly, not wanting to believe what you’re hearing.

“They’re my friends,” she repeats slowly, giving you a disbelieving look. She turns away from you, huffing and picking up her crayons again. You scramble to your feet, rushing to get away from her. You grab your phone book and run to the landline. You go over the F’s a million times, but you can’t find Fazbear’s number anywhere. 

The entire night is turned into one long, agonizing wait for Mike to return home. You find yourself unable to eat or sleep. You move like you’re walking through a fog. Make Abby dinner, wait for her to pass out, and put her to bed. Then you sit and stare at the blank screen of the TV, just waiting for a knock on your door. 

At 5:30, you finally hear it. You shoot off the couch, rushing towards the door and throwing it open. You know you must look insane, eyes wide and face drained of blood as you drag Mike inside. 

He stumbles from your grip, giving you an affronted look as you slam the door closed behind him. He glances over his shoulder, making sure Abby isn’t woken up by the noise. “You need to quit!” You shove the words out in one rushed jumble. 

His brows furrow and he shakes his head, not quite understanding you. “What?” He asks, scoffing and looking away from you. He glances towards the messy couch and then back at you. “Have you been awake the whole night?”

“Mike,” you grab him by the shoulders, squeezing until he winces from your touch. “I need you to fucking listen to me, you cannot go back. You can’t go back.”

He places his hands over yours, threading his fingers through yours and trying to ease your grip off of him. Neither of you pays attention to the fact that he doesn’t let go. “What are you talking about? I can’t just quit.”

“Mike,” your voice carries a desperation you rarely let yourself show. You know that it’s difficult for people to read you. You’re aloof on purpose, anything to keep people away. But right now, you need him to recognize how vulnerable you’re being. You need him to see the fear and panic on your face and just fucking listen to you. 

“You need to leave that place behind and not look back, okay?”

He takes a step back from you and you know you’ve gone too far. You should have played it cool and approached the subject like a normal person would. But there’s nothing normal about Freddy Fazbear’s and you need him to know that. 

Instead, all you’ve done is properly terrify him away from you. He releases your hands like they’re hot irons and stumbles a few steps away from you. He has a placating smile on his face as he nods his head shallowly. “Alright, sure,” he mutters, not meaning a word of what he says. “I’m gonna get Abby. Need to get her to school soon.”

He rushes down the hall and you let yourself fall into your kitchen chair. Your head drops into your hands and a hollow pit of despair opens up inside you. You did this all wrong. You always do. Every time you try and help someone it turns back around on you. No one believed you the first time, why would they now?

You hear him walk past you, Abby’s grumpy voice demanding to know why she can’t stay longer. “Now,” he snaps, opening the door and pushing her out. It closes and you finally lift your head, expecting them both to be gone. 

Instead, Mike lingers by the door, he has a concerned look on his face as he approaches you. He kneels and opens his mouth with a low huff of breath, “Look,” his hands hover over yours like he wants to hold them. You tuck them away before he can, not willing to make eye contact with him. He shakes his head, stopping himself from whatever he was going to say. 

He stands back up, glancing down at you with a frown. “Just try and get some sleep.”

That’s rich coming from him, but you don’t bother saying anything. You only nod your head, willing him to just get the hell out of your house and take his sister with him. You tried, you can’t say that you didn’t. 

The door slams closed and you flinch at the noise, a flash of blue darting across your vision. You know it’s not real, it’s just a product of your lack of sleep. You can’t help searching for a pair of blue bunny ears, though. 

Dread sinks deep in your gut as you think of losing the closest thing to a friend you’ve had in years. Preemptive grief weighs heavy on you as you get up and throw yourself onto your couch. You imagine the pain of losing Mike and let it be what lulls you into a restless sleep. 

As insane as you were behaving yesterday, Mike still has little choice but to ask you to babysit once more. He hesitates, something is clearly going on with you. He’s never witnessed anything beyond vague disinterest in your interactions. 

How you acted yesterday would be out of character for anyone, but coming from you, he’s worried that there might be something seriously wrong with you. He doesn’t need to burden you further with his sister, but he needs this job. He’s backed between a rock and a hard place. 

He decides to come over without Abby, just to try and gauge how stressed you might be. Your porch light is on as he approaches the house, but he doesn’t see your car anywhere. He’s hoping it’s parked down the street. 

He didn’t give you much notice that he was coming over, but you rarely leave the house. When he first moved in, you were gone every night and there was a new car besides yours every other week. 

Nowadays though, you seem content to be a homebody most of the time. He’s about to knock on your door when he notices something pink shoved under the ashtray on your table. He frowns, his confusion only deepens when he sees his name scrawled in your unusually messy handwriting. 

He unfolds the paper, eyes roving over the words in disbelief. 

Mike, 

In case you need my unpaid services again, call someone else. I’ve got a date tonight that I’m not gonna reschedule to deal with a kid that isn’t even mine. Maybe you’re right, you really should just give her up to her aunt. God knows you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re a bad friend, but you’re a worse brother. Stop dragging me into your mess and just sort your life out. 

The further he reads, the more angry he gets. The paper is crumpled under his tight grip and he cusses as he tosses it into your rosebush. He doesn’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with it tonight. 

As angry as he is, that you could throw something like that in his face, he still can’t help but worry about you. There’s something very wrong with you, lately. But it’s not his problem to solve, you’ve made that abundantly clear. 

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers, gnawing on your lip as your eyes dart out the window of your beat-up car. The longer you sit in this parking lot, the more guilt you feel. You know you wrote what you did for the best, but it doesn’t ease the sting of regret. 

You wrote some nasty shit to Mike, throwing his deepest insecurities back at him like it meant nothing. But you needed to make sure he didn’t come looking for you. You needed insurance that after all this he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. 

Freddy Fazbear’s dilapidated sign looms over you and you could almost cry looking up at it. You’ve run from this moment for so long. You’ve kept your back stubbornly to the past and refused to look. 

Surging memories have been buried in alcohol and sex. Remembrances of the past have been erased. You cut off your family, friends, and anyone who knew what happened to you. Yet, you couldn’t leave this town. You could never leave him behind, not when you know he’s still in there. 

The taste of bile has laid thick on your tongue since last night. You haven’t had a moment of true rest since hearing that name again, since seeing Abby’s picture. Never, have you labeled yourself as selfless or a hero. The whole reason you’re in this mess is because you’re a coward, through and through. 

Now, in an ironic twist of fate, you sit in the parking lot of your childhood and you wait to sacrifice yourself to some higher entity so Abby might have a chance of surviving. You know that what you’re hoping to accomplish tonight is a pipe dream, that you’re more likely going to die than you are to achieve anything fruitful. But you’re never going to be able to live with yourself if something happens to Mike and Abby and you don’t do anything. 

You can’t have someone else's blood on your hands again. You left Jeremy behind. You’re not going to do the same to them. You check the clock on your radio and suck in a deep breath. Adrenaline rushes through you as the sun slowly sets behind the pizza place. 

Your blood is tingling with the anticipation of being spilled. There’s a phantom twinge of pain from the scar on your stomach. You wince through it, turning off the car and throwing the door open. You’re praying that you’ve left Mike without a babysitter and he won’t show up to his shift tonight. 

You round the back of the pizzeria, frowning at the chain on the handle of the door. You brought bolt cutters for a reason, but you were hoping you might be granted a silent entrance. You cut through the chains and they clatter to the pavement, the noise echoes through the quickly darkening sky. 

You roll your eyes, pushing the rusted door open and slipping inside. So much for the element of surprise. The hinges creak behind you and you whirl around, grasping for the handle. The door slams shut with a loud slam before you can stop it. 

You shrink into yourself, glancing over your shoulder, already expecting someone to be standing at the other end of the hall. Instead, it remains empty. You don’t know if that's better or worse than what you were expecting. 

You pull your flashlight out of your back pocket, shine it down the hall, and step silently over the tipped-over filing cabinets. The place is nothing like you remember it. Gone are the bright neon lights and the sound of children’s laughter. 

Instead, it’s replaced by cobwebs, flickering lights, and a haunting silence that has chills rising along your arms. You keep one hand along the wall, ignoring the way dust seeps into the cracks of your palms. Your light darts between the ground and the cavernous dark before you. 

There’s a suspicious shadow at the end of this hall that you don’t trust. It’s too dark, and you swear you feel eyes following you. But you can’t tell which direction they’re coming from. Something loud cranks at the end of the hall, the sound of gears grinding together stops you where you are. 

You freeze, breath coming in short bursts of air as you slowly tilt the light towards the shadow. Before you can see what it is, a shrill, childish scream rips through the air. “Abby!” You shout, rushing towards the noise, ignoring the noises following quickly behind you. You burst through the door at the other end of the hall and freeze when you see Mike fighting off the cupcake. 

You rush towards him, slamming the bolt cutters through the faux frosting before it rips his fucking arm off. He stares up at you in shock, he’s already covered in blood and bandages and you can’t even begin to wonder what happened to him. 

He mutters your name in disbelief and you stumble back from him, letting the bolt cutters and animatronic drop to the ground. “Mike, what the hell are you doing here?”

He jumps to his feet, speaking to you with an accusatory tone, “What are you doing here? I thought you had a date,” you don’t miss the jealousy in his tone and you scoff. 

“You almost had your arm gnawed off by an animatronic, do you really think this is the time for that?”

He opens his mouth, to argue or concede you’re not sure, and another scream rips through you both. You turn towards the side door and your face screws up in fear. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me that’s not Abby.”

His answer is shoving past you, shouting his sister’s name. You follow after him, barreling through another door and stumbling back as you watch the scene before you. Foxy paces across the room, dragging his hook along the old arcade games. 

Mike dives to the right, ducking behind a booth. You see his head begin to tilt towards you and you rush towards the stage, hiding behind it while you look around for Abby. You can’t see her anywhere and you don’t know if you should be relieved or throwing up. 

Something loud clanks above you and the walls of the stage tremor under your hands. You clamp your lips together, swallowing down a whimper as you slink further down the stage. The wood vibrates again and you can’t help the slight gasp you let out. 

Something clamps down on your shoulder, fuzzy and blue. You feel the metal pushing against the plush of the suit and he squeezes until you hear your shoulder cracking. There’s nothing that can stop the scream from ripping out of you as your bone shatters under his grip. Mike turns just as you're dragged onto the stage. 

You’ve only got one arm you can feel now. The other drags along the wood, longer than it should be. You can’t even feel the pain, your blood is pumping so hard you’re blind to it. You lash out at the hand holding you, groping for wires and pulling the second you feel them. 

It makes his grip loosen just enough for you to wiggle away from him. You’ve got oil coating your hand, blood drips down your arm. You can’t look, you know if you do, you’ll see your bones poking through your skin. If you look, you’ll pass out and there’s no telling what they’ll do to you then. 

His eyes narrow in on you and you scramble weakly on your one good arm. Freddy’s disappeared, and you don’t know where to. You can only look on in horror as Bonnie stalks towards you. Dying at the hands of the friend you’d left behind. It seems poetic, in a way. But you know this isn’t him. This is what that bastard has twisted him into. 

His good hand reaches out towards you and you do the only thing you can think of. “Jeremy!” He pauses, the orange light illuminating his plastic eyes flickering out only for a second. For a brief moment, you can see the frightened child within him once more. 

Then, something latches onto the back of your hair and slams your head down until the world goes dark. 

You glance around the pizzaplex, smiling as Jeremy blows out his candles. His parents hover behind him, bickering silently between each other. Jeremy looks at them, his big smile fading when he sees them fighting again. 

“Hey,” you grab his arm as the other kids dart greedily towards the cake. “Wanna play hide and seek again?” He looks at his cake, but he’s never had a sweet tooth. You know he just wants to keep playing, his parents practically had to drag him away from the stage for this. Only to be too busy fighting to wish him an actual happy birthday.

Jeremy nods eagerly, jumping off the bench and following after you. You laugh, darting underneath the balloon arch Mr. Afton had brought out for him. 

You and Jeremy come here every weekend, you’re practically best friends with his daughter Vanessa. She’s kind of weird, but you don’t hold it against her. Besides, being nice means Mr. Afton gives you both free pizza. 

The only reason Jeremy’s parents could afford to rent this place for his birthday was because Mr. Afton had offered them a big discount. You dart past the stage and hover at the edge of the ball pit. “One-two-three, not it!” You press your finger to your nose, laughing as Jeremy is just a second too late. “You’re looking first,” you command, shoving him slightly away from you. 

“Come on,” he whines, “it’s my birthday.”

“No cheating,” you tell him, practically stomping your foot. The big 8 on the paper crown he wears goes ignored as you point towards the booth behind you both. He lets out a loud sigh, stomping his way towards it and turning his back to you. He starts counting, loudly and skipping a few numbers. 

You narrow your eyes at his back but don’t hold it against him. Someone hisses behind you and you frown, turning to see Vanessa peeking out from behind a curtain on the stage. She gives you a weak smile, waving you forward. 

You look to your parents but they’re not paying attention as they talk to the other adults. You clamber on stage beside her, smiling up at Freddy and Bonnie. She grabs your wrist, not saying anything as she takes you to the back. 

“Vanessa?” You whisper, growing a little scared at the darkness of the room. It’s a stark contrast to the bright lights outside. 

“Shh,” she instructs, holding a finger to her lips and smiling. “Just wait here, okay? My dad says he’s got a surprise for you.” You watch as she leaves the room, you hear the lock click as the door closes and jump in surprise. 

“Vanessa?” You call out again, hoping this is just a stupid prank and she’s coming back. Loud, clambering footsteps ring through the hall outside the front door of the room and you gasp. You look around for a hiding spot, something sick twisting in your stomach. You know Vanessa said it’s all a surprise, but you’re scared. 

There’s nothing but empty animatronics around you. Mr. Afton told you to stay away from them, that the springlocks could hurt you. But you have nowhere else to go. You pop open the stomach of Sparky and curl yourself inside her, your eyes just barely looking through the top. 

“This way, birthday boy,” Mr. Afton’s voice croons outside. He opens the door, motioning Jeremy inside and you can almost see his smile through the golden bunny suit he wears. You’re starting to feel a little silly. Mr. Afton’s always been nice to you, why are you so afraid all of a sudden?

Jeremy walks in, a bright smile on his face as he looks around the repair room. He stops in front of a run-down Bonnie and looks back at Mr. Afton. He’s in your blind spot, covered by a shelving unit. You can’t see what he’s doing, but you see the way Jeremy’s face drops. 

“Mr. Afton-”

A golden hand shoves Jeremy’s face back. His brown eyes widen in surprise, the whites of them the only thing you can see. You can hear his muffled scream against Mr. Afton's paw.

Mr. Afton shoves Jeremy back, pressing him against Bonnie. Something silver flashes under the dim lights and you peek your head up. You watch as Mr. Afton runs a knife through Jeremy’s stomach and he shoves him into Bonnie's open chest. You clamp your hand over your mouth, dropping back down into Sparky. 

Your knee knocks into one of the metal springlocks and you have to fight everything in you not to surge forward as it digs through your intestines. You squeeze your hand over your nose and lips until you feel like you can’t breathe so you don’t scream. 

Blazing hot pain shoots through your stomach and legs, blood pools thickly down your dress and you can feel tears building along your waterline. Mr. Afton looks around the room, he rips the bunny head off and frowns. A vein bulges in his forehead as he calls out your name. 

He wipes the knife off and hides it behind his back. He places Bonnie’s head over Jeremy, “Vanessa?”

A moment later the door creaks open and a sheepish Vanessa pokes her head inside. She looks around the room, frowning when she doesn’t see either of her friends. “Where is she?” Mr. Afton demands. 

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I left her in here.” Her eyes narrow and she looks close to tears. “What was the surprise, Daddy?”

Mr. Afton lets out an irritated sigh and waves his non-blooded paw. “Forget that, we need to get back outside.” He rushes towards her, dragging the bunny head behind him, and shoves her back through the door. 

The second he’s gone, you’re openly sobbing. Hot tears pour down your cheeks as putrid bile shoves against the walls of your throat. You push Sparky’s stomach open and gasp when you see the large hole in your stomach. 

The other springlocks twitch threateningly as you tug at the one buried inside you. You take in a deep breath and rip it out, forcing yourself to leap away just as the others close. Your blood is dragged along the concrete as you crawl towards Bonnie. 

“Jeremy?” You call out, head swimming so much you can’t even feel pain anymore. Your fingers are cold as you dig fruitlessly at Bonnie’s stomach. You tug and tug, falling back as the panel swings open. 

You can’t see Jeremy’s head, you only see the springlocks digging into his small body. “Jeremy!” You scream, you scream so loud, Mr. Afton can’t even stop the parents from finding you before he does. 

You pass out from blood loss before they reach you. In that time he manages to paint you as two misbehaving children. You snuck backstage and messed with animatronics you had no business being around. He said you both must have tried to wear the old suits and there was no way of proving him wrong. 

So much damage was done to Jeremy’s body, that they wouldn’t be able to find a knife wound even if they knew to look for one. No one would believe you when you told them he killed him. They just thought you were trying to avoid getting in trouble. 

Mr. Afton only managed to keep the pizzeria open for a few more years. But you never went back. You couldn’t. You never forgave him and you never forgot your friend. 

The smell of cleaning products and the familiarity of a sterile hospital room greet you as you wake up. Your vision is slow to come back. Eyes foggy and blinded by the bright lights of the room you’re in. 

Your fingers twitch at your side and you’re relieved to find your arm still works, even after it was practically shattered by a haunted puppet. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing them to focus. A messy head of brown hair lays at your side. 

Mike is draped across the hospital bed, completely passed out. You find yourself smiling slightly at the sight. You slowly bring yourself into a sitting position and poke at him. “Mike,” you whisper, voice hoarse from lack of use. 

There’s a throbbing in your head that pulses along your optic nerve. Your face screws up as you reach towards the bandages wrapped around your temple. You’re honestly just happy to even be alive. You can deal with migraines for a few weeks. 

He jolts up, slightly disoriented as he stares at you. You offer him a weak smile and he lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re awake.”

“Apparently,” you mutter. You glance around him, a frown forming on your face. 

“She’s getting some snacks,” he tells you before you can even ask. “Abby’s fine.”

You let out a breath of relief, sinking back into the pillows. Maybe it wasn’t all for nothing, then. “You knew them,” he says. “Or, the bunny, at least.”

You nod your head weakly, any energy you had has been sapped out of you from the relief that both Mike and Abby are okay. “Yeah, I used to.”

“Are you going to tell me how you knew them?”

You take his hand in your own, surprising the both of you. “Some other time, alright? I think I want a date first before we start trading childhood trauma.”

He stutters and stumbles over his words, brows furrowing as he gives you a disbelieving look. “Did you just ask me out? While you’re still concussed?”

“Are you saying no?”

He opens his mouth but quickly closes it. He lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Abby comes rushing back into the room before either of you can say anything else. She smiles at you when she sees you’re awake. She jumps onto the bed, uncaring of the way her knees dig into your legs. 

“Careful, Abs,” Mike scolds. You wave him off and he rolls his eyes. 

“I made you something,” Abby tells you. She hands you a picture and you let out a sharp breath. 

It’s you and Jeremy. Granted, crayon versions of the two of you. But it’s him all the same, as the boy you knew, no longer the monster he was turned into. You feel tears building in your eyes as you tug Abby into a fierce hug. “Thank you,” you whisper, holding the drawing close to your heart. 

You’d like to pretend that you’ve gotten closure from all of this. Jeremy’s been put to rest and you can move on with your life now. Now, you can have a family again, have friends again. But that would be a lie.

You still feel him, as you always have. He’s a shadow clinging to your back, a haunted past you’ll never be able to let go of. He always comes back. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the games/movie Five Nights at Freddy's (FNAF), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[luvrboydave]

Please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!

pairing: ghostface!kirk hammett x fem!reader

warnings: somewhat dark content, stalking, creep!kirk, panty stealing, knives, blood, violence, little bit of a breeding kink, sadism maybe (?), degradation, name calling (slut, whore), pet names (doll), possibly ooc kirk

words: 3.1k

a/n: i did not proof read this so if there are mistakes that's totally on me LMAO i hope you all enjoy bc this was my first time writing anything like this (it ended up being a little less ghostface centered bc my brain went on autopilot)

By the time he has you checked out, it’s a few minutes past closing. He sees you to the door, holding it open for you like the gentleman he is. As you’re leaving, Kirk calls out to you, that sickly sweet smile on his face, “Be safe. It’s dangerous for girls like you to walk the streets at night.”

Kirk first notices you when you strut into the movie rental store a few minutes before closing. You look entirely lost, eyes scanning the store hurriedly. When he walks over to you, he swears that he’s just doing his job, being a good employee and helping out lost customers. But deep down, he knows he’s lying to himself. He puts on that bright smile he hates so much and asks what you’re looking for in his nicest voice. When you tell him you’re looking for Friday the 13th, Kirk knows he has to have you.

Your cautiousness makes it way harder for Kirk to follow behind you. In retrospect, maybe telling you the streets aren’t safe wasn’t the best idea if he wanted to stalk you back to your house, but he’d just have to deal with it. When you look over your shoulder, you see a flit of darkness from the corner of your eye, choosing to brush it off as the shadow of an animal. You speed up slightly, just wanting to get home and watch the movie as quickly as possible. Kirk continues to follow you, dipping back into the shadows when you check over your shoulder.

His words make you feel uneasy. You’d heard that there have been rumors of a so-called ghostface copycat killer on the loose. Some unstable dumbass killing people with that stupid mask on after watching Scream. You’re extra cautious on your way home, checking over your shoulder occasionally to make sure you’re not being followed.

Eventually, you make it to your house, breathing a loud sigh as you finally unlock your door. You step inside, slipping your shoes off and turning the lock behind you before heading towards the living room. You set the VHS on the coffee table and walk to the kitchen, preparing something to eat during the movie. You head back to the living room, sliding the VHS into the player and plopping down on the couch.

Kirk watches you closely through the window to your left. He studies your reactions to the movie, how you jump when a loud noise plays or how you grimace and squirm at the gore; he finds you fascinating. He watches you for the entire duration of the movie, only leaving after watching you get undressed for bed. He leaves your house that night with a painfully hard dick and a plan to have you all for himself.

–

Kirk continues to watch you for at least another week; he’s practically memorized your schedule by now. He knows that recently, it’s become your habit to come into the rental store to rent a new horror movie every night, which is very convenient for him. He can follow you home and observe you as soon as he closes the shop, and on his days off, he can sneak into your bedroom window while you’re away and rummage through your underwear drawer, maybe even take a pair home for his nasty fantasies and return them the next day soiled with his cum. Kirk knows it’s disgusting, but that’s exactly why he enjoys it so much; the thought of you wearing a pair he’s soiled and not even realizing it gets him so worked up.

Kirk smiles to himself as he’s shelving tapes. Tonight, he would execute his master plan. Glancing at the clock, he sets things into motion—11:50 p.m. Right on time, you walk through the door, your previous rental in hand. Kirk nods his head to you in acknowledgement as you drop your tape into the return bin. He eyes you as you head to the horror section to peruse the available films before returning his attention to his task.

“Excuse me, Sir?” You squeak, standing behind Kirk. He whips around to face you, smiling and greeting you, “How may I help you?”

Kirk takes a moment to think; it’d be pretty ironic if he picked Scream for you. You watch his smile widen as he says, “Why don’t you just rent ‘em both?”

“Well, I’m a very indecisive person…so I was just wondering if you could help me decide which movie to rent.” You mumble quickly, holding up Scream and A Nightmare on Elm Street.

You shrug. “That’s my limit. I need to save as much money as possible, y’know.”

He puts his hand on your arm, and you tense up.

“How about I rent Elm Street for you…I’ll let you take it home if you promise to return it by tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen, and you smile at him. “Really? I swear I’ll have it back by this time tomorrow!”

He chuckles at your words, and his hand slips from your arm to your lower back. He guides you up to the counter, hand lingering for a bit too long on your body as he moves to check your rentals out. You think nothing of it, brushing it off as him being friendly.

He sees you to the door again, waving to you and shouting, “Have a good night, stay safe…” before closing the doors and locking up.

–

When the person on the other end replies, your stomach drops. His voice is gravelly, very obviously altered with a voice changer.

You’re almost an hour into Scream when the landline rings. You get up from the couch, stopping the tape before answering the phone, “Hello?”

“Who is this?”

You barely think before answering him, “Is this some sort of sick joke? It’s not very funny.”

“I assure you, this is very real…but you’ve got it all wrong in that pretty little head of yours. I just wanna talk...” he pouts on the other end.

“I don’t care. Bye now.” You state, putting the phone back on the hook and breathing a loud sigh.

As soon as you sit down and prepare to continue the movie, the phone rings again. You throw your head back and groan, standing up again to answer the call.

“Hello?” You hiss, annoyed that your movie time was interrupted by some dumbass playing a prank.

“Well, that wasn’t nice…” The man on the other line laughs, “I only said I wanted to talk.”

“Talk to someone else then.”

As you move to hang the phone up, you hear him growl, “Don’t you dare hang up on me, slut. I’ll slit your pretty little throat if you even think about it.”

Your words get caught in your throat, stunned at the switch from the once calm voice to the threatening one you hear now.

“Now, listen carefully, we’re gonna play a little game. Get one question wrong, and you’re dead, understand?”

You stand in shock, throat tightening painfully and tears beginning to well at the corners of your eyes.

“I said, do you understand? Yes or no.”

You nod, whimpering a soft “yes” through your tears.

You easily answer his first two questions, both about movies you’d already seen.

“That’s not fair! I haven’t finished watching the movie. There’s no way I’ll be able to answer this one correctly!”

“Good…now, who is the killer in Scream?” he asks, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

“Too bad. You better start thinking of a good answer. Otherwise, it’s game over for you.”

Your brain is moving at a mile a minute, trying to recall every detail from the past hour of the movie that could point to who the killer might be. You remember the scene where the character Stu explains how to gut someone, which is quite suspicious. You take a shaky breath before answering, “Stu. The killer is Stu.”

“Sorry, doll…That’s incorrect. I guess that’s game over! The correct answer would’ve been Stu and Billy.”

“Wait, no! There was no way for me to get that one right! You tricked me!” You cry desperately, sinking to the floor and hiding beside the couch.

“Hmm…I guess that one was a bit unfair. Okay, how about this one: where am I?”

As he finishes the question, you hear your bedroom window being forced open and the stomp of heavy boots on your floor. In a panic, you drop the phone and quickly rush to the kitchen to grab anything you can to defend yourself. You grab a knife and duck behind the kitchen island, trying to steady your breath and be as quiet as possible. Holding the knife close to your chest, you peek around the island, catching a glimpse of a pair of black boots in the living room. Slowly, you begin crawling towards the hallway to your bedroom, thinking you could escape from the window he entered through.

Halfway down the hallway, the floor creaks as you take a step. You feel as if your heart is going to burst from your chest. The masked man’s head whips towards your direction, watching you as you scramble up from the floor, dropping the knife, bolting into the open bedroom door and slamming it behind you. Once in the room, you immediately run to the window but quickly realize that it’s closed. Curses fall from your lips as you search for an alternative, ultimately deciding to slide underneath your bed.

Your bedroom door creaks open, the man’s heavy boots sounding like thunder with each step he takes. You cover your mouth with your hand, eyes squeezing shut to keep yourself from letting tears spill down your face. You can hear him open the window again, and you assume he’s checking to make sure you didn’t get away. He moves from the window to the closet, throwing the door open and checking every inch for you.

Your heart is pounding as he circles the bed. And then suddenly, his footsteps stop. You wait a few seconds before doing your best to look over your shoulder in the cramped space. A scream escapes your throat when you see that goddamned mask looking at you all squished under the bed. You feel his hand grab onto your ankle, and before you can even start to react, he’s pulling you out from your hiding spot. Your hands grasp for something to hold onto, legs kicking frantically to try to escape his hold.

Your efforts are in vain as he easily pulls you from underneath the bed. You continue to struggle in his grasp, flailing around, trying to get him to let go. The man makes the mistake of not securing your hands first, allowing you to reach towards his mask and pull it from his head. Your Brows furrow in confusion as you take in the face of the unmasked man–the sweet movie rental boy named Kirk. He’s stunned for a second, not expecting you to be so bold, but quickly snaps out of it and reaches for his knife. He uses one hand to hold you down on the floor as the other presses the knife to your throat.

“I wasn’t planning on killing you before, doll…I was just havin’ a bit of fun.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “But now that you’ve seen my face, I’m afraid you’ve gotta go; I can't have you running around telling everyone my secret.”

“Please…” You whimper quietly, “I’ll do anything; please don’t kill me.”

“Those are dangerous words, slut. Are you sure you stand by them? You’ll do anything for me to spare your life?” His tone is sinister, and you see a dangerous glint in his eyes through your tears.

“Yes. I swear, anything you want.”

His grip slowly loosens on your neck, and he lightly slides the knife's tip down your neck.

“Good.” He smiles, standing up and grabbing a fistful of your hair, “Get on the bed.”

Kirk uses his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor and shoves you back onto the mattress. You watch him, eyes wide and scared as he stalks closer.

“Shirt off, now. Otherwise, I’ll take it off for you, and I promise you don’t want that.”

You pull the shirt over your head with shaky hands, immediately moving to cover your exposed tits out of embarrassment. Kirk growls and reaches forward to move your arms away from your chest.

“Hide yourself from me again, and I cut you, whore.”

Kirk continues making you undress until you're in only your pretty blue panties. When he sees the pair you decided to wear, that dangerous smile returns to his face, “Y’know…that’s one of the pairs I jerked off with.”

He says it so casually that you almost disregard it until you fully process what he said. You respond with a simple “Huh?”

“Yeah, I snuck in here and stole a pair to use almost every time you were gone.” He laughs, “You make it awfully easy for someone to break in…if I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to.”

Kirk unlaces his boots, slides them off, and then climbs onto the bed to hover over your body. His hand slips lower and lower, caressing down your plush body until he reaches your clothed cunt. Running two fingers over your pussy through your panties, Kirk chuckles, “You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re soaked for the man who threatened to kill you…fucking whore.”

You whine as he rubs at your cunt, hips lifting to chase his hand as he pulls it back.

“Look at that…” he teases, “My little doll is already desperate for me, and I’ve barely touched her.”

Kirk finds the knife again, sliding it up your leg slowly before finally letting it rest on your cunt. Your heart speeds up when you see the knife so close to you. He drags it to your hip, slipping it under the waistband of your underwear and slicing through it, mirroring his actions on the opposite side as well. He pulls the ruined fabric away from your sopping cunt, leaving you entirely bare under him.

In an instant, the blade of the knife is pressed to your throat again. He slips a finger into your cunt, fucking it into you painfully slow.

“Better not move too much. We wouldn’t want that pretty throat of yours slit open, would we?”

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, scared that any slight movement of your throat will get you cut. When your hip bucks up into his hand again, you feel a sting where the knife is pressing into your skin. “Whoops!” He exclaims in fake surprise, “Guess I got a little carried away…” Kirk brings the knife away from your neck and up to his lips, tongue darting out to clean your blood from the blade.

You’re absolutely sure he has a few screws loose, but you honestly couldn’t care less right now. You cry out as he adds another finger, stretching you open perfectly. Your hands grasp his hair, threading your fingers to find purchase in the curls. Your vision blurs as he speeds up, the coil in your stomach feeling like it could snap at any second. Kirk makes you cum faster with his fingers than anyone else has ever made you cum.

You moan loudly, body shaking and convulsing as you let go around his fingers. He helps you ride out your orgasm, thumb rubbing lightly at your clit, overstimming you ever so slightly. Kirk drops the knife to your side and begins lifting the black ghostface robe off of himself, revealing the Misfits shirt he wore earlier that night. He unzips his jeans and pulls his boxers down just enough for his dick to bob out.

‘Can’t wait to slip into your tight and messy cunt, doll…so fuckin’ wet for me.” He growls, teasing the head of his cock against your sensitive clit. Kirk pushes your legs up to your chest, practically folding you in half, and uses one hand to keep you in place. His other hand rests on your throat, adding light pressure as he pushes his cock into your cunt. You grip the sheets as his cock stretches you open.

He’s relentless with his thrusts once he bottoms out, fucking into you like an animal. “Fuck, Kirk!” You cry, “So fuckin’ good, feels like you’re in my guts…”

He grips your throat tighter, and the cut from earlier begins to sting again. You can't tell if the tears falling from your eyes are from the pain or the pleasure at this point; all you know is that you don’t want Kirk to stop. The lack of oxygen makes your brain feel fuzzy, and you’re not sure what to pay attention to anymore. Everything feels so overwhelming.

“Mmh, shit…I can feel you tightening up on me.” Kirk groans, “If your pussy keeps hugging me like this, I might just have to fuckin’ breed you, doll.”

Lost in the moment, all you can do is whine his name as he fucks into you faster, lewd sounds of skin against skin echoing off the walls. He moves his hand from your throat, allowing you to catch your breath. The now free hand moves down to play with your clit, rubbing it in tight circles, pushing you closer and closer to your climax.

You see white as you cum around Kirk’s cock, low whines and loud moans falling from your lips. Kirk’s orgasm comes not long after yours, cock throbbing inside you as he empties his cum into your cunt. You expect him to pull out and leave as soon as he’s done, but surprisingly, he doesn’t. Instead, he picks the knife up again, hovering over your left tit. He brings the knife down and begins to carve something into your skin. It hurts like hell, and you tear up as he does it. He pulls back to examine his work after he’s finished, eyes scanning the marred flesh with pride. You look down, trying to see what he carved, only being able to make out the letters ‘K.H.’

Kirk pulls out from your cunt and watches as his cum spills from you with a sadistic smile. “Hope you’re on the pill, doll.” He mumbles as he tucks himself back into his boxers and zips his jeans. He puts his boots back on and grabs his knife and costume before going over to the window and opening it. As he’s climbing out, he looks back at you, who is on the verge of passing out on your bed.

“Thanks, doll…Keep it up like this, and I won’t have to kill you. See ya around.”

Kirk is gone in an instant, and you’re left alone on your bed, pussy filled with his cum and his initials carved into your tit.

tags: @ridethehammett

[cheollipop]

love you goodbye

navi | taglist

pairing: park seonghwa x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.7k

tags: smut, angst, lots of angst, and even more angst

when seonghwa received a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he all but threw himself at it—except, he had to leave you behind. with his plane ticket sitting idly on his bedside, he bids you one final goodbye.

warnings: breakup sex, unprotected sex (boooo 👎🏼), creampie, lots of crying (a LOT of crying), lots of L bombs too bc they're still very much in love and life SUCKS, nicknames (hwa, pretty girl, sweet girl, darling, love, sweetheart)

A/N: I feel the need to issue a formal apology for this one. once I started it, I just couldn't stop —I originally planned it to be around 1k words... but, well. ehem. anyway. this was kind of inspired by 2521 too, soo... enjoy? haha.. ha.

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew from the start that Seonghwa was hiding something from you, but you decided not to address it, not until he was ready to approach you on his own. He was never good at keeping secrets—a rush of nervous energy taking over him at the mere thought of it. He'd stutter when you'd question him, struggle to meet your eyes, fiddle with his thumbs—all telltale signs that he was a crumbling mess on the inside, guilt and anxiety eating at his very soul.

The signs started early this time, and yet, you pretended not to notice. How his mind would wander into unknown territory while you spoke about your day, his attentive eyes and curious nods replaced by a blank stare while he feigned engrossment. How he closed his laptop as soon as you stepped foot into the room, claiming he was suddenly tired and wanted to go to sleep when you questioned him. How he lied awake in bed hours after turning the lights off and kissing you goodnight, tossing and turning and exhaling deep sighs while he wrestled with his thoughts.

You remained patient, still set on waiting for him to take the first step. But when Seonghwa got into bed just before dawn reeking of cigarettes, the stench so strong you had to wash your sheets the next day, you couldn't sit still anymore. Especially so after seeing the ashtray on your balcony filled to the brim with the squashed buds—despite having emptied it two days ago—with two empty cigarette packets thrown haphazardly beside it on the small table.

"They offered me a job in Paris, and it's… it's a really good job," he'd answered when you finally confronted him. Once in a lifetime, he had described it. His dream job; something he had been working towards since before he'd met you. And so, who were you to ask him to stay? To ask him to let this opportunity go, simply to keep him for a little while longer? Before he began to hate you for it, before he realized that he shouldn't have listened to you—that he should have let you go when he had the chance.

So you told him to take it, pushing back the tears stinging at your eyes and plastering a smile onto your face—you could only hope it looked convincing. And yet, Seonghwa didn't look pleased. Quite the opposite, he began to cry, hot tears streaming down his face while he yelled and screamed at how unbelievable you were—letting him go so easily.

In spite of that, Seonghwa listened to you, accepting the offer. You knew you had to be supportive of his decision despite the burning in your chest when he stopped fighting against the idea of leaving you. Part of you hoped he would stay for you and still love you all the same, but it seemed like those two statements could never exist together.

You felt cruel for the satisfaction you felt at his hesitance while you sat down to book his plane ticket, locking in the decision the both of you dreaded. But still, you had to be supportive, even if that meant booking the ticket yourself because Seonghwa's hands wouldn't stop shaking. The breath of relief he exhaled after the confirmation screen loaded made your stomach stir, your dinner mixed with bile and pure despair inching their way up your system and collecting at the back of your throat. You swallowed them down and threw on your best smile, blinking away the tears threatening to fall.

--

"We should set a time to call. By the time I wake up, you would be at work, but if we-"

"Seonghwa," you interrupted, the lump in your throat growing bigger the more you heard him speak about the future.

You knew the second he told you about the job that you wouldn't be able to handle a long-distance relationship. You had been living together for over a year, dating for several more; having him more than ten meters away from you for longer than a day would be too absurd to comprehend. Seeing him less than three times a year? You'd be more convinced with a UFO outside your window.

"What? I promise I'll find the time, I just need to adjust my schedule and-" he continued and the throbbing in your chest almost made you double over in pain.

"Let's just end it all."

–

The slow ticking of the clock on the wall across from you, the suitcases packed full of Seonghwa's belongings, the insistent shuffling of bodies against the sheets—they all wrote themselves into the memory of his last day with you.

Seonghwa stilled above you, the sheen of sweat covering his body reflecting the moonlight where it peeked through the window. His eyes took in your expression, your features, and everything about you; all the while, his hands ran over the curves of your body, stopping momentarily to tweak at your nipples before wrapping around your waist.

"Hwa, please move," you whined and rolled your hips against him, his cock sheathed inside you.

Seonghwa slid a hand down to your hips, stilling their movements before leaning closer to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. He trailed kisses down to your jaw, then back up across your cheeks to your temple. His hips ground against yours, pressing against the gummy spot that made your eyes roll back.

"H-hwa, more," you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your nails digging into his biceps.

"Shh, there's no rush," he whispered against your skin, still placing kisses wherever he could.

You knew there was no rush. The way he made you fall apart on his tongue and fingers over and over again for what felt like hours was enough proof of that; but perhaps part of you was in a hurry to get this over with, this final goodbye that you'd been dreading for weeks. Seonghwa had looked at you with those big eyes, wet and glimmering as he spoke, "Can I have you? One last time. Please, let this be the last thing I ever ask of you." You had to pretend that his words did not shatter your heart, the pieces piercing through your insides every time he looked at you with anguish staining his features.

He's had you in every way possible, but this felt different. The slow grinding of his hips against yours, his cock heavy between your walls—still, he moved slowly, as if chasing his orgasm was the last of his concerns—his feathery touch raising goosebumps all over your skin. It was intimate in ways you never wished it to be, in ways that tore your heart out of your chest and left you bleeding out.

"How am I supposed to just let you go?" He breathed out against your neck while his hips continued their grinding, his pelvis brushing against your clit.

Your hands eased around his biceps, wrapping around him instead and pressing into his back. A bitter smile curled the corners of your lips. "I'm sure you'll find a pretty French lady as soon as you land-"

"But I want you," he pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, his own heavy with tears. "I need you, (Y/n)."

Your eyes burned as hot tears gathered along your waterline. "You need to let me go, Hwa," your voice shook, barely over a whisper.

He wasn't oblivious to the facade you had been hiding behind, concealing your hurt to support his decision so he wouldn't beat himself up for leaving you. Perhaps he willingly chose to ignore it, finding it easier to believe that he was the only one bearing an aching heart. It was only now that he became conscious of his selfishness—leaving you to deal with your sorrow and grief alone rather than being there for you. Rather than being there for each other.

Seonghwa knew he couldn't go back to fix his mistakes, so he resorted to focusing on making you feel good, watching as pleasure overtook your features with every roll of his hips. His hand cupped your jaw, and his lips slotted against yours. You reciprocated, pressing your lips against his, and at that, Seonghwa almost let out a sigh of relief. The kiss was soft, gentle, paired with the easy twist of tongues.

In the few hours he had left with you, he wanted to have you in every way he could think of. Seonghwa wanted everything about you to forever be engraved into his mind—from your features and how they reacted everytime his cock pressed against your favourite spot, to the blush on your cheeks when he told you he loved you.

Seonghwa drew his length halfway out of you, sinking it back into your clenching heat, feeling your legs twitch against his hips as you took him inch by inch between your pulsing walls.

"Hwa, h-hwa, please just- ah," your nails dug into the soft skin of his back and you rolled your hips to meet his slow thrusts.

He reveled in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him, sucking him in down to the base and refusing to let him go. He sucked a bruise under your jaw—something to remember him by; as if you could ever forget.

"Sweet girl," he kissed you, a gentle brush over your lips. "I love you so much."

His words sent a jolt of pain through your chest, tears pooling in your eyes once again. "Seonghwa…"

He ignored the strain in your voice. "Let me take care of you." He kissed away the trail of tears running down your temple. "Will you let me love you one last time?"

You brought your hands to Seonghwa's face, wiping away the wetness staining his precious skin. You nodded, a broken sob escaping you while you spoke, "one last time."

You held each other, bodies flush while Seonghwa pounded his cock into you, grinding his hips into yours before going back to fucking you at a relentless pace.

His eyes never wavered off your face, and he denied every request to change positions—he wanted to see you, to take you in fully, to write you so accurately into his mind he could draw you with his eyes closed.

"Nghhh, Hwa. Fuck- I'm so close," you moaned against his mouth before he muffled your sweet melodies with his lips.

He pressed his hand onto the underside of your thigh, spreading you open and allowing him to stuff you full of his cock with every thrust. Your legs trembled under his touch, a breath away from coming undone.

"Shit, you're squeezing me so well, my love. Oh, my pretty girl, I'm going to miss you so much," he nuzzled his nose against yours while he molded your lips together, swallowing all your moans.

The look in his eyes—so full of love and grief—was the last thing you remembered before you tipped over the edge, your body seizing up under Seonghwa as pleasure rushed through you like a shockwave. His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles around it while he continued to pump his cock into you.

"Hah, J-just a little more, a-ahh," he blew heavy breaths into your open mouth, his tongue slipping out to lick over your top lip. "Where do you want me, sweetheart?"

"I-Inside, please. Fill me up, Hwa," you clawed at his back, eyes shut tightly as the pain from overstimulation mixed with pleasure, Seonghwa's cock punching against the spot that made your back arch.

His hips stuttered, managing a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling his seed inside you, warmth spreading through your abdomen as ribbons of white decorated your walls. A series of I love you's streaming from the both of you as you rode out your highs.

Something hot dropped onto your cheek. Opening your eyes, you were met with Seonghwa's own, bloodshot and glassy with overflowing tears dripping onto your skin. His broken sobs pierced through the stillness in the room, shaking his whole body as they ripped through his chest, and the pain squeezed at your heart so tightly you thought it might arrest.

You held him against your chest while he cried, his softening cock still stuffed inside you. Rubbing slow circles into his back, you waited until his breathing steadied before you spoke.

"It's the right thing to do, leaving," you muttered, afraid to speak any higher.

He sniffled, burying his face further into your chest. "I know," he whispered, voice nasally and hoarse.

A few seconds of silence passed before you spoke again, your bottom lip wobbling as you tried to get the words out.

"Hwa, please be happy-"

"(Y/n), don't."

"Just let me- p-please, I need to-" your voice broke, tears falling into his hair and wetting the soft strands.

Seonghwa remained quiet, and you took it as a sign to continue.

"T-take care of yourself, and make sure you're not s-skipping meals," you sniffled, pressing your lips to his temple as you spoke. "Make friends so you're not alone there, and go out with your coworkers, but don't get t-too drunk because I won't be there to take care of you-" You felt his shoulders shake against you, wetness dripping down your collarbones. "I won't ask you to forget about me, I don't want that either. But at least try to find love, Hwa. I-I want you to be happy," you placed kiss after kiss against the side of his face, carding your fingers through his hair. "Are you even listening?"

You smiled against his temple when he nodded, his voice rough from crying, broken with sobs.

"I'm going to m-miss you so much."

–

Seonghwa lied awake for hours after you had tucked yourself into his chest, breathing out a final I love you before succumbing to the grip of sleep.

He heard the early birds singing outside your window, and yet the joyful melody did nothing to ease the harrowing ache in his chest. He stayed there long enough for them to leave their nest, soaring across the sky in celebration of the new day. But Seonghwa stayed there, lying on his side with his arms secured around your figure, storing every last detail about you—every last blemish scattered across your skin—into his mind. For hours, he studied the angle at which your nose sloped, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers squeezed at his skin in your sleep, how the first rays of sunlight peeked through the open blinds to cast shadows over your features. He wondered how long it would be before he'd begin to forget certain things about you—the scent of your perfume, the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled, your favourite songs, your usual café order. He also wondered whether moving across the globe would even matter, if it made a difference, or would everything that made you so uniquely you be etched into his mind forever?

"Wake me up before you go," you'd told him before you fell asleep, but he couldn't bear having to say goodbye again. So he turned your alarms off, watching your peaceful expression and wondering what you were dreaming about. He hoped it was something nice, something other than him.

Quietly rolling his suitcases outside, Seonghwa walked back into your once shared bedroom, memories dripping off the painted walls. He crouched by your bedside, his eyes finding your face, resting calm and placid on your pillow. He pressed his lips against your forehead, keeping them there for a few seconds and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"I hope you get everything you've ever wanted, my love," he whispered against your skin, eyes prickling with tears. But I hope I never hear a thing about it, he added silently.

As Seonghwa closed the door behind him, his keys left behind on your kitchen island, he finally allowed reality to seep into his mind. He was leaving, and you were letting him go. He walked down the hallway while he tried to process the emotions rushing through him, his plane ticket sitting idly in his coat pocket.

There was no place for you and him in this world, not if the both of you wanted to be happy. But perhaps in another life, you would finally get your happy ending.

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[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 17 - Mulled Wine

Treat

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k (on the dot)

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, fluff, daddy kink, piv sex, DIRTY dirty talk, soft dom joel, but also degrading nicknames (in a loving way), idk y'all its 2:00 am rn, frottage, stuff i'm forgetting

Summary: Joel thanks you for your consideration

A/N: I'm so tired, but I think this turned out pretty good. Lots of dirty talk. Idk. I'm putting this in my queue and passing tf out. Idk what happened bc this was supposed to be sweet and then it turned so dirty.

****

You watch Joel from the window as you finish stirring your ingredients one final time. It had been a bit of a struggle to get everything you needed to create a mulled wine, but you had done it. 

Joel had mentioned to you in passing how he used to drink it around Christmas time before the outbreak. He’d invite Tommy over and the brothers would sit at the kitchen table with Sarah. 

Joel would sip on his wine while Tommy indulged on his usual beer, absolutely refusing to touch Joel’s “sissy drink”. Sarah had asked once if she could have a mug of it, and so she ended up with a warm apple cider. 

The story had made you laugh, you could almost see Tommy teasing Joel while Sarah whined for her own “sissy drink”. 

They would sit around with their respective drinks after decorating the tree and recall fond memories. It was one of Joel’s favorite traditions back then, and you could tell he had a hard time opening up about it. 

He’s been doing so much better with it lately–opening up to you. He used to not let a thing slip, but since you’ve settled in Jackson with Ellie, he’s been able to relax a bit. You don’t try to rush it, but you’re happy that he’s finally able to do so. 

You sigh contentedly as you divide the wine into two steaming mugs. Looking back out the window, you can see Joel coming back up from the shed where Ellie had insisted on living. He’s halfway back to the main house now. 

You think it’s cute, but also good for her, that she wanted to be independent. Though you would hate to be any farther from her. You know Joel feels the same way with how much he talks about it and goes over there to fix small things for her. 

Just now, he had been over there re-caulking the window frames. He’s been worried about how cold it might be getting in there lately with all the snow outside. 

Just then, Joel opens the door, a blast of frosty air blowing in with him and making you shiver. He notices you immediately, a smile adorning his rosy features. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he starts to pull his gloves off. “What’re you doin?” 

You step to him, starting to help him with his thick leather jacket. He sets his gloves down on the kitchen counter and allows you to pry the coat off. 

“Just making a treat,” you say, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. 

“Oh?” Joel questions with a slight chuckle at your vague answer. “What kinda treat?” 

You bite your lip to suppress your smile as you hang his coat up on the rack by the door before backtracking to the stove. You pick up the two steaming mugs of wine and walk back to him. 

Joel knows what it is as soon as you pass him his mug. He looks down at it, then at you with nothing but love and gratitude. Not only had you remembered him talking about how much he enjoyed it, but you had gone out of your way to do something nice for him. 

You watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. It did cross your mind once or twice while making it that he might not appreciate it because of the memories. That it might bring back things he didn’t want to think about. It didn’t seem likely–maybe a few months ago it would have–but not now. It had still been nagging you nonetheless. 

It definitely doesn’t look like that’s the case, though, with the way Joel takes both of the mugs and sets them down to engulf you in a hug. He holds you close to him and whispers a small “thank you, baby” into your hair. 

You smile into his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him. 

“You’re welcome, Joel,” you say, pulling your head back. He dips down to kiss you slowly, and you bring one of your hands up to thread into his fluffy graying hair. Joel groans into your lips and keeps ahold of you as he leads you backwards into the living room, your lips staying together as much as possible. 

Once he reaches the couch, he sits down, pulling you on top of him. You shift to get situated in his lap, the two of you separating to catch your breath. Keeping eye contact, you grind down on him, making him groan as you pass over his bulge. 

“Careful, darlin’,” Joel warns. “Keep that up and I ain’t gonna go easy on you.” 

You smile mischievously at him as you do it again, and this time as he groans, he puts his hands over your hips and helps you do it. You allow him to drag you across him, his dick hardening with each pass. 

Your clit catches on the fabric of his jeans, making you moan sweetly as you place your forehead on his shoulder. 

“Feels good,” you whine as the pressure increases. 

“Bet it does,” Joel teases. “My whore’s so starved she can get her little pussy off rubbin’ on my fuckin’ jeans.” 

You moan louder at his words as you gyrate your hips, feeling a warmth starting to take over in your belly. 

“Yeah, you gonna come like this?” Joel asks. 

You just nod, letting him feel your agreement. You’re so close, just a couple more seconds. 

“Alright then, go ahead, baby. Come on daddy’s lap with that slutty little cunt.” 

And you do. You moan loudly as your movements grow more frantic, your cum seeping out and slicking up your clit to make the glide more pleasurable. The feeling of your pussy throbbing around nothing is almost a tease when you have Joel’s cock within reach. 

He seems to know what you’re thinking, because as soon as you stop moving, he reaches for your pants. He unzips them and pats your thigh to make you get up before pulling them and your ruined panties down your thighs and having your step out of them. 

You quickly get back onto his lap, covering his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss as he begins to work at his own pants. You can feel the moment he pulls his cock out, and you look down to admire it. You’ve always thought he has such a beautiful cock. Seems fitting for him. 

His tip is already an angry red, leaking pre-cum which lubricates his thick shaft as he pumps himself a couple times. 

“C’mon, baby, get up here on daddy’s cock. Don’t make me wait.” 

You quickly obey, sitting up on your knees to notch him at your entrance. You sink down on him, moaning as he grunts. Your hands fly to his shoulders as he bottoms out, allowing you to adjust for a second. 

It is only a second though, before he starts to thrust up into you. You moan at the first punch of his cock against your cervix. He places his hands back on your hips and assists you on bouncing on him. 

“Tha’s it, baby,” Joel praises. “Never get tired of this messy fucking pussy. She’s always so hungry for me.”

You whine in agreement as you lift yourself up and down, a wet squelch coming from between your legs each time you fill yourself. Joel gazes into your eyes as you struggle to keep yours open. His teeth grit each time he hits a spot that makes you squeeze around him. 

“Feel so good, daddy,” you tell him as you admire the thin sheen of sweat beginning to cover his golden skin. “I-you-I–”

“I know, honey,” Joel cuts you off. “Cockdrunk already.” 

His condescending tone never fails to get you going. You fucking love it when he treats you like this, because you know that it’s not real. Just for now, you get to be his slut, his little fuck toy. Joel would never dream of speaking to you like this any other way. 

You just nod at him, feeling your second orgasm approach. Joel begins to thrust quicker into you, making you whine with each punch. 

“Yeah, I can feel it, baby. Let go for me.” 

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming around him, flooding his cock with your cum. The extra lubrication makes it even easier for him to slide in and out of you, and he takes full advantage of that, fucking your thorugh your orgasm at full speed. 

“So damn tight n wet,” Joel grits out. “Poor pussy just can’t control ‘erself.” 

“Mnm, she needs you, daddy,” you confirm, your eyes closed now as you rest on his shoulder again. Your legs are starting to ache, but you continue your movements as much as you can so Joel isn’t doing all the work, though you’re sure he wouldn’t mind too much. 

His pace begins to falter and get more frantic as he gets closer to his own end. 

“G-Gonna come on this little cunt,” he tells you through tight teeth. “Mark you all up n watch it drip off’a you.”

“Please, Joel, want your cum so bad.” 

You can feel the way he pulses as he gets closer, watch the way he bites his plush bottom lip to contain himself. 

He suddenly pulls you up hard, his cock falling out of you just in time to coat your pussy lips with his warm cum. He groans as he runs his tip just barely onto you, letting the sligh friction lengthen his high. 

When he comes down, he places you gently back on his lap, his spent cock nestled between the two of you. You both breath heavily in a comfortable silence, and you almost fall asleep until you remember the wine. 

“Wait, Joel–” 

“It’s good room-temp too,” he says, his eyes cracked open just slightly. You scowl playfully at him, slapping his chest lightly. 

“Or we could warm it back up. Jus’ sit here a minute, darlin. I’m too damn old for this shit.”

You giggle at him but comply, resting your head back on his chest. The wine will just have to wait.

****

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