#I slammed my knuckles on the back of her palm

[pridoo]

Just had the worst fist bump of my life

[yannawayne]

not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

SYNOPSIS: You get kidnapped and Damian snaps. TAGS: Graphic Depictions Of Violence! Genderneutral! Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Kidnapping, Childhood Trauma, My Mother is the Worst Woman Alive and I'm her Favorite Son, Damian is Eighteen.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

YOUR PALMS WERE PRESSED tightly against your eyes, wrists raw and burning from the rope that had bound them just minutes ago. Sobs slipped from your lips, eyes bloodshot, and mouth parched dry.

The rotting smell of the warehouse was an assault on your senses—an acrid mix of trash, harsh chemicals, and the faint tang of gunfire that lingered in the air.

There was a hushing in your ear as you leaned against a cloaked figure—Batman. Bruce. 

His hand rubbed at your back, firm and steady, a grounding presence amid the chaos. His cape, dark and imposing, wrapped around you like a shield, blocking out the violence unfolding just in front of you.

Shadows danced erratically on the walls as Robin moved with lethal precision. Bodies fell unconscious, thudding heavily against the concrete floor. Blood splattered. Screams echoed. Each punch landed with a sickening crunch, bones breaking. Crates and debris were scattered haphazardly, wood and concrete slamming onto the floor. 

Damian couldn't see anything but red.

His vision was tunneled, focused solely on the next target, the next blow, the next scream. 

A swift roundhouse kick sent one assailant crashing into a stack of crates, the wood splintering under the impact. One punch connected with a jaw, the sickening crunch of bone breaking echoing through the air. Blood sprayed on his fist. Another one rushed toward him, brandishing a knife, but he disarmed the man with a swift twist of the wrist, jamming the blade into the attacker's palm. The man screamed, clutching his arm as red streaked his skin.

Damian's eyes flickered with a dark satisfaction as he watched the thug stumble backward, clutching at the wound.

One last man remained. One who had lunged at him from behind, grappling onto his back. Damian scowled and surged backward, driving both himself and his attacker into the wall with bone-crushing force. The man's grip loosened, a pained gasp escaping his lips as the air was knocked out of him.

"Fool," Damian spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?"

The thug whimpered, trying to scramble away, but Damian was relentless. He twisted sharply, dislodging the assailant and slamming an elbow into his ribs. The man crumpled against the wall, clutching his side, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

"You think you can touch those I care for and get away with it?" Damian growled. He didn't give the thug a moment to recover. He swung a powerful fist into the guy's face, the impact sending a spray of blood and teeth into the air. 

"F-Fuck you, man!" The man yanked a gun from his waistband, but before he could even line up a shot, Damian’s foot kicked out, sending the weapon flying through the air. The gun clattered against the concrete with a deafening clang. With a snarl, Damian lunged forward, grabbing the thug by the collar and slamming him into the ground.

"H-Hey! Mercy! Mercy! I'm a-already down!" the assailant wailed, his hands clawing at Robin's uniform in a desperate plea. "The Bat don’t kill! You—you ain't gonna kill me!"

Damian's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as his voice dropped to a low, menacing growl.

"I'm not Batman," he spat, the tone amplified and darkened by the modulator. "Every breath you take is a mercy I choose to grant. By the time I'm finished, you'll be begging for death."

He raised his fist, the tension in his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. The thug’s eyes widened in terror, his pleas growing frantic as he braced for the blow. However, just as Damian’s fist was about to land, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, grabbing onto his hand with a vice-like grip. Before he could react, Batman—Bruce—had tackled him, pinning him firmly against his chest. 

“Robin,” Batman’s voice was firm, concern barely concealed. “That’s enough.”

Damian's struggle was fierce, his body thrashing under his father’s strength as he roared in fury.

“Let me go!” he screamed, his voice raw with anger. “I’m going to kill him for what he did to them!”

The anger engulfed Damian like a stormy ocean, dragging him beneath its violent waves. Visions of his mother’s face, his grandfather’s form, and accusing shadows surged from the depths, all condemning him. Damian’s cries erupted into a raw, guttural scream, gradually dissolving into ragged gasps as he battled the relentless tide.

Though Bruce had shaped him into a hero, a beacon of justice, and his family had offered him a fragile semblance of belonging, Damian was still his mother’s son.

The violence and anger roiling within him were like roots twisted deep within his soul. There was not a thing that could purge the primal rage and pain that had taken root before his first breath.

When he finally broke through the surface, baptized in blood and weighed down by sins that clung to him like chains, he sought you out with an urgent, almost desperate need.

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

Your hands were carefully peeled away from your eyes, and you met soft emerald eyes through a veil of tears. His hands moved to unlatch his cape, the soft fabric pooling around your form. His lips, speaking in his mother tongue, murmured a soothing litany of comfort, Arabic endearments flowing like silk. He pressed your head against his chest and you found refuge in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Bruce watched the scene with a pensive look. His son's body had dwarfed you, broad shoulders and strong muscles enveloping your form like a shield. His head was tucked into your hair, his hands raking all over your tense and sweaty skin.

Damian had momentarily shed the hardened exterior he so often wore—a soldier with a heart that, despite its armor, occasionally revealed cracks. This was a side of him that often surprised people.

Because Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

He was all sharp edges. Poisonous, scalding words that could sear through the thickest armor of patience. Rough, nearly violent in his touch, like a blade pressed against skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, no softness in his gestures, only the relentless precision of a trained killer.

From the earliest moments he could walk, his life was an unending series of tests, each more grueling than the last. Each cut and bruise was a lesson. Failure was met with harsh punishment, success with silent approval. Affection and praise were as rare as mercy. 

The League’s doctrine was ingrained in him: emotions were vulnerabilities, attachments were liabilities, and loyalty was owed only to the mission and the League. His purpose in the League of Assassins was clear—to be the perfect instrument of their will, a living embodiment of their principles. 

Emotion was his enemy, a weakness to be purged.  He was taught to suppress his feelings, to turn them off like a switch. Pain was an illusion, fear a phantom to be banished. He learned to compartmentalize his thoughts, locking away his humanity in the deepest recesses of his mind. 

By the time he reached ten, he was a finely honed instrument of death.

A living weapon in a world that knew no peace.

It had taken Bruce eight grueling years to begin undoing the damage. And even then, he had barely scratched the surface.

Then there was you.

The trembling, warm-faced student Damian had introduced during his senior year—his partner for a science project, he said. 

At first, the interactions were subtle—a fleeting glance here, a hesitant smile there. But as time went on, it became impossible to ignore the way your presence began to soften the sharp edges of Damian's demeanor.

Bruce had seen you both fall for each other over the months. And he saw hope. 

You were the opposite of every lesson Damian has ever been taught.

To him, you were soft, in every sense. Soft movements, soft features, soft voice. Everything about you exuded comfort.

You made something he had always pushed down and shut away come to the surface.

You made him feel things—things he should not.

When you touched him with your soft hands, everything in him burned. The gentle brush of your fingers against his skin ignited a searing heat, a raw and unfamiliar longing that clawed violently at the walls he had worked so hard to maintain. Each touch chipped away at the concrete barriers of his training, breaking them down and leaving him exposed, aching for something he couldn’t quite name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

Mania. Drake had called it, a wild obsession of his that could consume and devour.

Damian's arms encircled you like a lifeline, holding you close as though he feared you might slip away. His lips brushed against your temple, warm and tender, while his biceps pressed firmly under your chest, anchoring you in his embrace. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, blood, and the lingering residue of fear. 

And yet, amidst these odors, there was an underlying, almost imperceptible hint of Damian’s cologne—Arabian oudh. It was rich and smoky, with notes of aged wood, a faint earthy sweetness, and subtle undertones of leather and spice.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the fabric of his suit brushing against your cheek.

A Crush. Todd had chalked it up to puppy love, something that would eventually fade with time.

He lifted you effortlessly from the floor, his strength evident in his smooth, controlled movements. The way he adjusted his hold with such care to ensure your comfort spoke louder than any words could.

Warmth enveloped you—Damian had always run hotter, like a human furnace. On sweltering days, his clinginess (no matter how much he denied it) had been a nuisance, his heat making you feel as if your skin might melt off. But now, that same warmth was a comforting embrace, a welcome shield.

Infatuation. Grayson had suggested, thinking it was just a fleeting, intense passion. But there was something deeper in the way he looked at you, something that felt permanent and unshakeable.

“I am here. I am here, beloved," he spoke to you lowly. "It's alright now."

Love. His father called it.

In an instant, everything seemed to collapse around you. Tears welled up and streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed into his chest, each shudder of your body sending waves of anguish through him. Damian’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of you. 

He has seen suffering—he has inflicted suffering. But this was different. Your pain was a torment he was helpless to alleviate. 

Face twisted in guilt, he pulled you tighter against him, as though he could hold the world’s pain at bay if he just held you close enough.

A hand tapped at his shoulder, and he flinched, turning to see his father.

“The Batmobile is just by the docks. We can—”

“They're in shock,” Damian scowled. the fire back in his eyes. “Do you honestly believe they're in any state to be moved at this moment?”

Bruce’s gaze was firm. “Damian, we don’t have time to—”

“They need to be stabilized first,” Damian cut in sharply, his tone brooking no argument. He turned abruptly, striding towards the exit. “If you want them to survive this, we need to take care of them properly, not rush them into a car. I shall be outside.”

Without waiting for a response, Damian moved swiftly, the clatter of his boots echoing as he stepped into the cool night air with you. Once the warehouse door closed behind him, he turned his full attention back to you, his hand gently brushing your tear-streaked face. 

He moved to press his forehead gently against yours, the warmth of his skin meeting yours in a tender connection. He could offer no verbal comfort anymore; words seemed woefully inadequate. Your cries gradually subsided as you drew comfort from his presence.

Love.

He lifted his hand to the side of his face, pressing a button. As his mask retracted, his eyes met yours. Damian knew that more than anything else, you loved his eyes.

Time and again, you found yourself drawn to them, unable to tear your gaze away. They were hypnotic—an exquisite blend of emerald green, green as vibrant as the leather cover of his sketchbook, flecked with gold and streaked with brown paint.

His eyes were windows to his soul, offering the only genuine glimpse into the depths of his emotions. In them, you could see his anger burning like a stormy sea, joy dancing like sunlight on rippling water, embarrassment flitting like a shadow, and pain etched as deep as his scars.

At times, his eyes grew gentle, revealing something much softer—something that made your heart swell and your knees feel weak. A love so pure and unexpected that it could melt the coldest of hearts.

Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

But in these soft, fragile moments he shared with you, where his heart beat in sync with yours, Damian found an unexpected calm. It was in these rare interludes, away from the brutality and darkness that defined his world, that he could truly be himself.

Here, he was not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

ao3: yenwayne

NOTE: I want to delve into the line I wrote: 'Damian is still his mother’s son.'

It's just to show his trauma, I despise Talia with all my guts.

Talia's control over Damian is a textbook example of manipulative conditioning at its most extreme. In psychological development, early experiences and parental influence are crucial in shaping one's self-concept. From his earliest days, Damian was deprived of a normal childhood. His personality, thoughts, and desires have all been sculpted by the League of Assassins from day one.

His anger, protectiveness, and sense of duty are manifestations of this—a child raised to be a killer, now struggling with the fragments of a humanity that was never fully allowed to blossom.

I'm not saying he hasn't changed!!! He has turned into so much more than the weapon they intended him to be. He is genuinely good. But the impact of such deep-seated trauma cannot be easily overlooked or resolved. It’s not something that can simply be swept under the rug or fixed overnight.

So, this was my attempt at capturing his character! I’m very open to constructive criticism since I’m new to the fandom. Please be kind and gentle with your feedback :)

[throneofsapphics]

brush away the dust part 2

Batboys x f!Reader

(part one)

summary: after returning from Under the Mountain, you found things weren't quite the same between you and your partners. years later, painful memories are brought back up.

warnings: angst

word count: 2010

a/n: I'll admit I did write the original version of this back in October 2023, so its been hiding for a while. thank you to @whisperingmidnights for helping me give it a face lift

original song Inspo: Cocaine Jesus by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

What happened to your friend, y/n? Feyre asked innocently. Rhys’s entire body stiffened, and she frowned. The female had popped into her mind recently, an offhand comment by Mor about visiting Vivian and her. She knows they were introduced once, as Rhys’s friend but she hadn’t heard a word of her since. 

“She moved,” he said curtly.

“Where?” Feyre pressed. There was something else about her, and she was determined to figure out what. 

“Winter.” His fingers clenched around the pen, white knuckling as he tried to write, the ink ripping through the paper instead. She reached out to try and take it from him, to hold his hand, but he held onto it with a death grip.

“Tell me what it is,” Feyre sighed. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Bullshit.” Feyre knew she was pushing, and treaded carefully. “You said no secrets between us.” That seemed to flip something in him, because he dropped the pen and leaned back. Grief flooded his features - and surprised her. 

“We were in a relationship,” he said curtly. Her mouth parted, she’d never expected … “She was with Azriel, Cassian, and I. For centuries.” 

Feyre blinked several times. Surprisingly, no jealousy flooded through her. She knew he’d had lovers before but hadn’t thought all three of them would have the same one. 

“What happened?” she asked quietly.

“I found my mate.” He didn’t meet her gaze, and it wasn’t out of shame for them being together. Feyre easily but the pieces together. 

“Rhys,” she hissed, “tell me you didn’t toss her aside.” 

He didn’t meet her eyes. “She was there, Under the Mountain. Healing. We couldn’t risk being seen together, or speaking much.” She hadn’t known, she’d known nothing of this. “When I came back,” shame - she scented shame and a tiny pit of anger growing in him, “I knew you were my mate, and it wasn’t fair to her.” 

“What about Cassian or Azriel?” 

“It wouldn’t have … it wouldn’t have been the same without the three of us. Cassian has Nesta, and Az was fine.” 

His mental walls were wide open, and she didn’t try to invade, but the strength of his memories sucked her in. The joy of the four of them together … ‘we can keep a spot for her for now.’ 

She reached out and called for Cassian and Azriel, and her tone left no room for bullshit. They were there within minutes. 

Feyre slammed her palms against the desk, rising to her feet. “Look at me. All three of you.” They did, and she spoke to them as their High Lady. “You threw her out, after centuries of love - of her giving every fucking thing to you.” The two of them didn’t need to question who she was speaking of. In fact, they didn’t look too surprised. She wouldn’t be surprised if Rhys warned them. 

“I didn’t throw-” Rhys began. 

“You offered her a spot,” Feyre spat, “in the home she just returned to - after half a century ripped away from her home, from her family, and everything she loved. None of you,” she made sure to meet each of their eyes, “even tried to make things right.” 

“Feyre,” Cassian said carefully, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, “it was complicated. She,” he glanced at Rhys, “they had been gone for so long - she came back different.” 

“Mother above. You’re all idiots. She came back traumatized, and I guarantee she thought the three males she loved would help, and you may as well have thrown her back Under the Mountain.” 

Silence radiated throughout the room, and she went to find Mor. She’d seen a glimpse of their friendship, and needed some way to apologize for the three bastards, if they wouldn’t do it themselves. 

-

The High Lady of the Night Court showed up at her door, and she couldn’t refuse her. So, she did what she’s always done - and offered her a cup of tea and some pastries she’d baked that morning. Feyre took them all with a gentle smile and thanks, but she could feel the anxiety roll from her. 

“I know why you’re here,” y/n sighed, gripping the warm mug as if she might get some strength from it. 

“Please,” Feyre said gently, “I need to explain.” 

“You’re not responsible for them,” she assured her. Feyre’s lips pressed into a tight line, obviously she disagreed. “I know it wasn’t your fault,” she continued when she didn’t interrupt, “I hold no ill will towards you or them- ”

“That makes you a better female than me,” Feyre huffed and she let out a laugh. The High Lady smiled at her. She could see how she matched with Rhys, could sense how they would fit together. “I did lecture them.” Y/n’s returning smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sorry to open old wounds, but I … I want you to know they were wrong. How they treated you was unacceptable, and I’m ashamed you were driven from your home.” 

She blinked back tears. Feyre had said the things she didn’t dare even think anymore. The feelings she’d worked through and discarded, trying to replace them with gratitude for the learning opportunity. “After what you went through, how you still came back to help all of us in the war, not expecting a thing out of it.” Feyre paused, as if trying to gather her thoughts. Somehow, she’d learned about the healing. Did Madja tell her? She let her continue, mostly because she had no idea what to say to her. “You still have a home, in the Night Court if you ever-”

She held up a hand, interrupting her words. “I appreciate the sentiment, and your kind words and understanding. But, the Night Court is not my home. It hasn’t been for years and I’m happy with my life here.” Then, it was too much - having her here, digging up things that were better left buried, even if it came from a good place. She stood, turned to the kitchen and a petty part of her flared. Quickly, she put together a small basket of all of the things she knew the three of them had loved, that she would usually make. Some pastries, preserves, and honeycomb jelly. She knew Feyre was watching her every move. 

Y/n glanced at the clock. She had agreed to pick up a shift tonight. “I have to leave for work soon,” she said apologetically. Feyre rose with her. “Here,” she handed the basket. “Some gifts for friends.” Feyre’s eyes flashed as if she recalled a memory, and a mischievous look danced in them. A look that told her she’d make sure they encountered her little gift. She could picture Feyre leaving it in a common area, knowing all too well her scent would be all over it for them to see. 

“Thank you for coming,” she added - and Feyre took the dismissal. There wasn’t an invitation for more, for a return, and she left gracefully, thanking her for inviting her in and listening. 

-

The three of them showed up at her house. She should’ve slammed the door in their faces, but she knew they would wait outside until they opened again. Their High Lady was likely behind this. 

Her hands moved in familiar patterns, throwing a kettle on for tea - warming up a few things she’d baked this morning. Maybe she slammed the cups down a bit harder on the counter than normal. Or sliced the bread with something else in mind. She didn’t need to look to know at least one of them, probably Cassian, had winced. 

“I hope you find your mate one day,” Rhys said as they’d finally settled down. The Illyrians looked vaguely uncomfortable, chairs not designed with wings in mind. Good. 

“I don’t.” she snapped back at him. The bit of leftover anger - the part she never let herself feel - started bubbling inside of her as soon as she spotted them. It was ready to boil over. “I hope I never toss someone to the side without so much as an explanation. We went through …” Her throat restricted, and tears started falling - but she refused to be ashamed of them. It had taken her this long to be comfortable showing outward emotion again, and she wouldn’t apologize for it. “Fifty years of hell and you left me. Left me by myself. If Mor wasn’t there …” 

She didn’t let herself finish the sentence, thinking about what it would have been like if her friend hadn’t dragged her out of the pit of misery. 

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said weakly. 

“We’re sorry,” Rhys added and Azriel gave a nod. 

She scoffed. Too damn late for any apologies.

“We thought it would be easier for you that way.” Azriel said quietly, his expression contemplative.  

“It wasn’t easy for us,” Cassian added. Rhys shifted. It was easier for him, that much she could tell. If things had been different, if they’d at least been more direct … Maybe in an alternate timeline they’d still be friends. She would still be in the City of Starlight, working under Madja and growing in her role. 

“Well,” she let her expression morph into a cruel smile. “Thank you for clearing that up. You never really knew me at all,” and strode of the door, swinging it open and motioning for them to leave. 

None of them moved. “We still need to talk.” Rhys almost sounded like he was pleading. 

“Get out of my house.” She hissed at them, throwing as much venom as possible. They still didn’t move. Maybe the years made her forget how gods damned stubborn they are. Pigheaded males. She slammed the door shut instead. “Say your piece, and get out.” 

-

Azriel didn’t know what to expect coming here, but it certainly wasn't pure anger and resentment. The absolute venom and distaste she looked at them with. It made him uncomfortable. 

”It’s been a decade, why can’t we-” Cassian started. 

”And we had centuries together. It might take a few more for me to look at you without wanting to break something.” 

A lie, he could almost taste the lie spilling from her lips. Still, he didn’t verbally call her out, but when she met his gaze, he could tell she knew. Her eyes rolled and she stood again. 

“Sit down,” Azriel said, the first thing he’d said to her after so many years.

She didn’t listen. He resisted the urge to send a shadow to tug you back into her seat. That, he knew, would only piss y/n off. 

“Please,” he added with a touch of strain.

It had the effect he desired, and she sat back down - still watching him cautiously. Almost like something was wrong with him. He frowned. Had he never said that one word to her? Something ugly like shame blossomed in him. 

He had centuries of training in patience, but he could tell the others were frustrated by how the rest of the conversation seemed to spin in circles without ever going anywhere. In another universe, he might have laughed to himself about it later. In this one, their own emotions seemed to leak into his own, infecting him. 

“This is going nowhere. This went nowhere. It won’t ever go anywhere,” you finally said, words almost frenzied. 

They’d worked you into that state. Guilt brushed against him. A cat hissed from somewhere. 

“We should go,” Azriel said. Probably one of the first smart things said during this conversation. Their presence here had only grown to distress you further. 

“Just wait,” you had a look he recognized about you - one where you were about to do something you may regret. He was too curious to stop you. 

Her hand hesitated on the drawer. The room went still. It slowly slid open, and he watched you pick up a small �� portrait, gently wiping away the fine layer of dust coating it. It was a shame, he thought, that he’d never be able to brush away the dust coating your relationship. 

[emsgwenstan]

Why not me?

Larissa Weems x fem reader {angst}

words: idk 2.5k?

warnings: language.

note: ok idek what this is, i haven't written anything in months because of burnout, so really just something i pulled from drafts.

“Don’t.” It was to the point; it was sharp and clear. I picked up my handbag, coat and gloves and evacuated the room as swiftly as possible.

Slamming the door behind me, I could feel its vibration, the loud noise echoing through the halls and corridors, just like every one of my steps down the marble stairs. Frustratedly, I rummage through my bag to find my car keys, desperately needing something to just go my way, I plucked them out and balled the abundance of jagged metal in my fist while storming across the cobblestone to reach my car.

The second I sat in the driver's seat, tears started to roll down my cheeks and my nose started tingling, I shove the keys into the ignition and reverse out of the staff lot before practically doing a burnout when setting off. Where to go now is the question. Where to go indeed. The only home I’ve ever known is nevermore, the safe place I retreat to when the outside world is far too cruel, when normies are unkind and when life gets too much.

Every possible place I think to go isn’t an option, they are all riddled with memories of her, there’s nowhere in the whole of Jericho that I haven’t been with her, the park benches and weathervane after getting hot chocolates on a sunny winters day, the local bookstore on a windy spring morning, the clearing just off the road in the woods on a gloomy autumn afternoon, or the empty fair ground on a cool summers night.

“Oh, you would love her y/n, she very pretty and quite the catch, she flatters me all the time and is very sweet-.” “Don’t.” The conversation plays on a loop, God why? Why wasn’t I enough? The trees reflections whipping across the windscreen seemed to become faster. “Goodness, can you believe she asked me? I haven’t been on a date in years.” She had said. “Help me find something to wear dear?” She asked, and, without question I did.

My grip on the wheel becomes tighter until my knuckles turn white and crescent shapes are imbedded into my palms. Did she not know? Didn’t she realize? Has she not seen the way I look at her? Before I drive myself out of the town ship I stop on the side of the road. I just sit there, I sit and cry for a long time, even as dusk falls and night comes, I sit and cry.

Many cars have passed my own, however none caught my attention until I heard one ripping down the road sounding like it’s going a million miles an hour, when it passed the brake lights almost immediately illuminated my skin and the tires screeched as it stopped, my brows crease in confusion until it reversed back alongside me. Quickly I came to realize who it was. Larissa.

Without second thought I tried turning my car on though it wouldn’t turn over, how bloody convenient. I looked to my side to see her get out and run to my door. “Shit.” I breathed. She reached for the handle and was stunned when she couldn’t open it a dumbfounded expression overtook her pale features. “Open the door.” She pleaded I didn’t look at her, I kept my eyes in front of me still trying to start the engine. “Darling open the door.” She begged, her voice cracking and muffled by the glass.

“Y/n so help me god I will smash this window if you don’t open the damn door.” Her accent became thicker as she yelled. I just wanted her to go away, I rest my temple on the headrest in defeat. For a moment it was quiet- too quiet, that was until I heard her door slam close. I peeled my eyes open and saw her wrapping a cashmere scarf around her wrist, immediately in rage I unlocked my door and stepped out. “What the hell are you doing!?” I seethed. “What am I doing!?” She asked incredulously unwinding the material. “What the hell are you doing!? Where have you been? I called you close to forty times with no answer, I thought you were hurt! I thought something bad happened!”

“Why do you care?” I spat, the bitterness rearing its ugly head. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend, of course I’d care!” There it was friend. Somehow that made it worse- another kick to the guts. “Yeah, ok.” I murmured, twisting around and pulling out my bag, closing the door and storming down the tar road. “Where are you going!?” She shouted. “Away, far away from you!” I bit back.

“Stop!” She growled frustrated and confused. I ignored her request and continued walking. “Y/n!… oh, for fuck's sake.” Her voice died in her throat as she came to the conclusion that I in fact didn’t care for what she had to say. Larissa threw down the scarf and started power walking towards me, her heals clacking hard against the ground, her stride quick and harsh. “Hey-… hey! Christ just stop.” She said exasperatedly reaching my shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I shrugged her off ripping out of her grasp. “Take the hint! Larissa, I’ve made it clear enough that I don’t want to be near you!” I yelled whipping around to face her. “What have I done? What is going on? You don’t do this- you don’t pull this kind of childish behavior; I expect this from a student not you of all people.” She reacted. “Thanks, truly.” I sarcastically remarked and resumed walking.

“Fine I’ll just follow you then.” She said as if she was one upping me. “Piss off.” I said starting to walk faster. “Tell me what is going on! Please.” She asked her voice a little calmer and more desperate. I once again ignored her. “Y/n. I’m not going to stop until you tell me what has gotten into you.” She said starting to slightly limp from the ache in her feet. “What has gotten into me?… what has gotten into me?” I stopped abruptly.

I spin on the spot facing her again throwing down my bag in the middle of the road. “You.” I said creeping towards her with my finger pointed towards her chest. “You have gotten into me!” I yelled. “Me?” She asked, her brows furrowing and voice shaking. “Yes you! Day in day out, I’m sick of it!” Larissa’s posture straitened and head slightly dropped to the side in question. “Can you elaborate?” She said her eyes flicking about showing her confusion.

“It would be my pleasure. Let’s start shall we. “I’m not sure where I’m going wrong, I just wish someone would want me.” Or “I’m not good enough.” Or “y/n, why doesn’t anyone fancy me? Is it because of this or that'…or some bullshit reason.” I started, quoting just a few things from her. “What? Are you annoyed now that I actually have someone who could potentially be interested In me?” She asked furiously.

“No, I’m annoyed because of how ridiculous it is.” I retorted. “Ridiculous?” She growled through clenched teeth. “Yes. Ridiculous. How many times was I there to say those things aren’t true? How many times have I reassured and helped you? How many nights did I spend being by your side trying to make you happy!?” I asked. “What are you getting at!?” She asked, her eyes wide and lips twisted. “Months… years actually! Listening to you talk absolute garbage about yourself and continuing to do so after me telling you I’m here! - and, and now… you’re settling? for some waitress who thinks you’re pretty?” I explained looking directly in her eyes.

Larissa recoiled and looked as if she had been slapped. “Tell me how you really feel.” She murmured crossing her arms over her chest. “Jesus Christ, get a grip! Are you that thick!? I’ve been tryi-” I began. “Don’t even start, what about you! As far as I’m concerned you don’t have a great track record in relationships!” She yelled, her anger taking over once again. “Just fucking listen!” I screamed, rendering her completely silent.

When I realized she had bit her tongue and no longer wanted to argue, I started to speak again in a more relaxed tone. “I haven’t spoken, been with or even looked at anyone else. I’ve said nothing, but I’ve tried in many ways to show you, to tell you… every single time you have had a problem, a bad day, needed help, needed comfort, who’s been there? Me. I have. I know you better than anyone and I’m telling you that, that woman isn’t for you.” I stated.

“Right. So, your jealous that you're not the one who’s getting the chance with her, is that what you're saying? Because I thought you would be happy for me, out of all people y/n.” She said quickly and bitterly. “No that’s not-” I try. “I’ve heard enough, you want to be left alone fine, go ahead.” She said rolling her eyes and turning around to walk back to her car. “Larissa.” It’s her turn to ignore me. Before she got too far, I reached for her wrist without thinking and stopped her.

“I am.” I said quietly, pulling her to turn back toward me. “Your what?” She asked back. ��Jealous.” I express timidly, looking away from her but keeping the firm grip. “But not of you… of her… I’m jealous of her.” I said just above a whisper. I look back up, my gaze trailing from her shins to the hem of her dress, to the waist belt of her grey coat, to her neck, lips and face, her very confused face.

“I’ve tried to tell you… I’ve tried everything apart from actually saying it.” I said loosening the grip on her wrist. “Do you have any idea how hard it was? How hard it is to listen to you talk about someone else making you happy? Someone else who can see the side of you I’ve only ever wished to be privileged to see?” Larissa’s face dropped; her angered expression melted away as I continued.

“What?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.” I said in the same level of tone, goosebumps forming over my body as a shiver made its way down my spine, right there I knew I ruined everything. I close my eyes and let go of her wrist, I could hear her take a step, but it wasn’t back towards her car, it was to me, my eyes snap open as I feel her entire body engulf mine, in all the years of our friendship we’ve never hugged like that. Not once.

Together we stood planted in the middle of the road not daring to move an inch, it felt like it lasted a lifetime but in reality, it was only a few moments. My head and my heart were reeling, so many emotions, so many feelings, so many memories, so many 'what ifs'. “Larissa.” I said into her chest. “I know.” Was the reply. “Let me say it.” I murmured, Larissa’s chest heaved and contracted deeply, she guided one of her hands to rest on my temple and forehead moving the fallen hair in front of my eyes. “Look at me… please.” She asked pulling back just a little.

I lifted my gaze to her eyes and held the lapels of her coat, smoothing them and giving myself time to breathe. “I…” I swallowed. “I, love you.” I said quietly, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “I have for so long.” I breathed, finally after God knows how long I finally said it, although my relief was short lived when I saw Larissa face slowly revert back to one of distain.

“This isn’t fair.” She said pulling away and taking a step back her brows furrowing and unable to look me in the eye. “What?” I asked in disbelief. “I-… I liked you for a long while y/n, but now you choose to tell me?” It took every inch of me to not cry immediately. "What are you saying?" I asked dumbfounded, feeling bile build up in my throat. Completely taken aback, I recoiled and was in such a state of disbelief that I turned around in utter shock, plucked my bag from the ground and resumed trekking down the road.

The whole world felt like water filled the atmosphere and I was drowning, my limbs felt heavy and the cold seeped into my bones, I heard her muffled voice call out to me, but it was far too late, the second I looked up a pair of headlights were set right towards me...

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Finish Line

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Buck x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Notes: Hmmm….. this is a good one🤣🤣 obviously this is not true bdsm care please don’t think it is. But like I really cracked my knuckles with this one like?!! Good work me

“I’m just saying, Age of Extinction was total ass,” You say as you unlock the door to the loft and push it with your shoulder 

“No literally! We wasted so much-“ 

You and Eddie stop at the front door, Buck is on the couch, his head tilted to the side, his face twisted in confusion as he stares at the TV. You do a double take as you’re sure you can clearly hear someone being absolutely railed

With the loudest, fakest, moans any of you have heard 

Eddie pushes you the rest of the way in and practically slams the door shut behind you 

“Dude?! What are you doing?!” 

You set the grocery bags on the counter and come running over to Buck on the couch, a giggling mess. 

“Whaaaat is going on??” 

“I didn’t mean to pay for this I fucking swear but I did on accident and I was like fuck okay I’ll watch it I paid for it and how the fuck is she doing that?!” He points to the woman on the screen and your mouth drops open. Eddie walks over and covers your eyes 

“Buck!! Not in front of the children!” 

You slap his hands away from your face and roll your eyes 

“I do that pose in yoga anyway” You mutter as you turn to walk away but you’re stopped in your tracks by Eddie putting his arm around your waist and Buck pausing the movie 

“I’m sorry, you do what now?” 

“I’ve been doing yoga for years” You shrug “That’s called “King Pigeon” I’m pretty sure” 

You look it up as Buck hits play and one man absolutely rails her as she sucks off the other guy beneath her 

“Yeah see” You show them and they nod slowly 

“And you- you can do that?” Buck's voice is a little squeaky 

“I mean yeah, it took a long time to be able to do it though!” 

“Can-“ Eddie crosses one arm over his torso and bites his knuckles “Can we see it?” 

“Sure!” You unbutton your jean shorts and kick them to the side before removing your top 

“Can’t do it in those pants and you know I just thought I’d give you a thrill with my shirt off” you wink as you walk over to the side of the entertainment center and grab your yoga mat. Buck pauses the video again and they both focus on you intently as you roll out your mat and do a few stretches 

“Alright, one King Pigeon coming up.” You get on your knees and carefully start to bend backward, stretching properly as you get into position. You wiggle your toes as you grab your heels 

“Tada!!!” 

You hear the shutter of the camera and snort, staying completely still 

“You got your pictures?” 

“I’m going to draw clothes on you,” Buck says “But holy shit Y/N” 

“I can see why he wanted her in that position” Eddie mumbles and you hum softly, your interest peaked 

“I heard that Diaz,” you say as you slowly come out of the position, placing your palms flat on the floor as you let the blood in your head go back to where it’s supposed to 

“Are we gonna try that position? I feel like we’re gonna try it” Buck says as they both stand over you. You look up, biting your lip and smirking 

“Hi” you giggle dumbly and put the tip of your finger in your mouth 

“Jesus Christ” Eddie laughs as he walks away “You’re ridiculous”

Buck shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest “I’m horny as fuck and we’re getting nowhere… I think she’s got a great idea here”

Eddie looks at them as he starts putting the groceries away “You always think she’s got a point when she’s on her knees” 

You crawl closer to Buck, sliding your hands over his thighs “I’ve got an idea” 

Buck looks down at you dreamily “Anything you want Princess” 

“I told you not to indulge her” Eddie’s voice comes from the bottom cabinet 

“What if we had a little race?” 

Buck stops for a second, and so does Eddie. He places his hands on the counter in front of him 

“Go on”

“First one to cum wins,” You say, getting up and going to the couch, you drape yourself over it, putting one leg over the back and one foot on the floor, your body on display 

Eddie comes over, cracking a beer and handing one to Buck 

“You know what I think is a better idea?” He unbuckles his belt with one hand and steps in front of you, nodding at you to help pull his pants down. You lick your lips and do as he says while Buck takes a long swig 

“I think whoever cums first loses… the consequences? Well. I think I’ll keep those to myself for now” He cups your chin in his hand, tilting it upward 

“That sound good to you?” 

Buck comes over and takes your hand, putting it on his belt and you hurriedly undo it, pushing them down over his hips 

“O-okay” 

Eddie takes the remote and switches over to your guys' favorite video, the one none of you ever make it to the end of. He hooks his thumbs in his boxers, pulling them down slowly, letting his cock spring out. Your mouth is already watering 

“So we all go until one of us loses?” Buck does the same, tossing his boxers to the side 

“Mhm” you nod slowly, dreaming of just getting your hands on them 

Eddie goes to grab lube from upstairs and Buck plops on the couch next to you, reaching over and stroking your thighs 

“So like when you lose, I promise I’ll go easy on you” 

Your mouth drops open and you slap his hand away “When you lose I promise to give you back your soul once I’m done sucking it out!” 

Eddie hands you each a bottle and smirks “When you both lose I promise I won’t laugh” 

He sits down in the chair and gets comfy, putting his feet up on the coffee table and hitting play on the movie. 

It’s easy at first, keeping your hands off. Buck is the first to break, pouring the lube into his hand and sighing as he grabs his cock, stroking slowly. You giggle and he glares at you, reaching over and smacking your clit. You gasp loudly, snapping your legs shut and bat at his arm 

“Eddie!! He’s cheating!!!” 

Buck snickers and rolls his eyes “You’re such a fucking baby” 

“Your mom’s a fucking baby” You stick your tongue out at him and he’s on you faster than you can blink. He kisses you hard, sinking you further into the couch, and grinds down on you roughly, his cock slipping easily through your folds. You hold him to you for a minute, your eyes rolling back in your head before Eddie clears his throat. You snap back to reality and shove Buck away 

“Eddie!!” You shriek and he lets his head fall back against the chair as he bursts out laughing 

“Buck that’s totally not fair”

“In theory- hear me out-“ He puts his hands up, pointing at Eddie “I was grinding on her thus also cheating myself” 

Your mouth falls open as Eddie shrugs at you “He’s right” 

“You guys suck!!” You huff as you turn on your side and start pouting 

“I mean we could if you wanted” Buck wriggles his eyebrows and you kick his leg. 

It’s another half hour before any of you say anything, and the video is starting to get to your favorite part. You gulp, shifting a little and both Buck and Eddie look over at you for a second 

Your hand snakes between your legs and suddenly it’s all both men can look at. Their prized possession, because they both owned you. Mind, body, and soul. Eddie gives Buck a nod and they both let go of their cocks, you’re too busy watching the screen to notice, your fingers working your clit slowly. 

It’s your favorite part, when the first guy lays on top of the woman, making out with her before sliding his cock in, he pumps a few times as she moans, the wet sounds of their bodies slapping together. The other guy comes over, rubbing the first guy's ass before sinking his cock inside him. The harder he thrusts into him, the harder the middle guy thrusts into the woman on the bottom. It’s got you practically drooling as they go at it, his hips jackhammering in and out as she screams below them. The top guy pulls out and you’re moaning in time with her as she’s rolled onto the middle guy's chest and he stuffs his cock in her ass now. Your fingers speed up as she’s double penetrated, her eyes shutting as she holds onto the man on top of her, clawing at his back as he plows into her. It drives you crazy when Buck and Eddie fill you like that, stretching you so much you can’t walk the entire next day and they have to carry you 

You don’t notice Eddie coming over to sit on the armrest and glaring at you with a predatory gaze. Your leg opens up, your soaked pussy on display for them as you touch yourself, whimpering as you get closer. You slide your fingers through your folds before slipping them into your tight hole, feeling it grip them as you stroke that little spongy spot that makes your toes curl 

Buck looks up at Eddie and Eddie looks over at the video, they both know what’s about to happen next and exactly what’s about to happen to you. Buck moves a little, facing you now and crouching down a bit, like a tiger about to pounce on its prey 

Because that’s all they ever saw you as most of the time. Prey. 

The woman on the screen screams out as she’s cream-pied in both holes by the men at the same time and Buck pounces, ripping your hand away and shoving you flat on your back. Eddie stands over you while Buck’s mouth attaches to your clit, sucking as his fingers plunge in and out of you. Your back arches off the couch as you scream, grinding against Buck’s mouth as he drinks your sweet nectar. Groaning loudly while you cum over his tongue 

Your entire body feels like jello as he sets you back down and reaches for Eddie. Eddie gets down on his knees and Buck grabs his chin, spitting in his mouth before kissing him, passing your juices back and forth in a messy kiss

You stare at them, dazed and incredibly satisfied. Not really caring much that you came first 

Until you remember.

You don’t know the consequences of losing. 

Your heart starts pounding harder for an entirely different reason as you shakily get up 

“I-I have to go pee,” You say and Eddie pulls away long enough to give you a look 

“Hurry up” 

It’s short and demanding as he goes back to kissing Buck, who’s grinding their cocks together. 

You take a little more time than necessary, splashing cool water over your face and just trying to get your anxiety to calm down, because what the hell is Eddie about to do, and what is Buck one hundred percent gonna go along with?

You walk out of the bathroom and the boys are gone, you gulp as you look around. You’re just turning around from the kitchen when you look up, Eddie is standing at the top of the stairs. He gives you a little come here motion and you make your way to the bottom of the stairs 

“Hi” you wave shyly and he looks down at you, crossing his arms over his chest 

“Hello little one” He purrs and you know that voice and that name and god are you fucked. Buck appears next to him, biting his lip

“C’mere Bunny. We just wanna play” 

You walk up the stairs slowly, your legs are jelly, your heart is basically in your ass, and you’re starting to sweat. 

A nice Eddie is a dangerous Eddie. 

A wolf Buck is a dangerous Buck. 

“Sir” and “Daddy” let you walk past, eyeing you hungrily as you stare at the bed. The cuffs are hanging there, pink and fluffy, and there’s an assortment of toys at the end of the bed 

“Lie down” Eddie instructs and you do as you're told, putting your arms up and looking at Buck as he fastens them. You give him the sweetest, cutest, wettest, eyes you can muster

“Daddy?” You whimper and Buck nearly caves right there before anything is even started 

“Don’t you dare! She came up with the game herself!” Eddie yanks Buck away and he tumbles onto the mattress whining 

“Why do you have to play so dirty bunny?!” 

Eddie finishes tying you down, including carefully tying your legs together which is definitely new 

“Is this comfortable?” he asks as he finishes the knot and you nod 

“Yes sir… why-“

“That’s the surprise” He interrupts you as Buck messes with some stuff on the bed that you can’t see 

“I know this is also a new position, so if you’re that nervous I’d be glad to tell you what we’re about to do. But only if you feel you need to know, I want you to be honest with me”

You sigh, taking a minute to consider your options, you’re not sure why your thighs are tied together if it’s not really bothering you in that way. So you shrug and give him a little thumbs-up 

“I’m okay. I can wait” 

“Good, Now remember your safe word?”

Buck comes over to sit on the other side of the bed and you look at him, batting your eyelashes. He rolls his eyes and smirks as he strokes your side 

“He asked you a question”

You look at Eddie who’s got a little glare on his face and smile sheepishly 

“Hugh Jackman” You snort and Buck giggles because he absolutely came up with that and Eddie rolls his eyes 

“You two are ridiculous. Are you ready?” 

Buck holds up a small pink toy, waving it at you and you look at it suspiciously

“Yes Sir” 

He nods over at Buck who smiles cruelly, you hear the toy click on, vibrating in his hand as Eddie comes over and kneels on the bed, he taps your lips with his cock, still hard and flushed red from earlier. 

“Open up pretty girl” 

You eagerly open your mouth moaning around his cock as he moves his hips slowly in and out of your mouth.

“Jesus you feel good” He groans as you suck his cock, your tongue dragging over the thick vein running through it. You’re so distracted by Eddie that you don’t realize Buck's hands feeling your thighs, not until you feel that weird toy he had suddenly sucking at your clit. 

You writhe beneath Eddie suddenly shaking your head and he slaps your cheek. Your eyes widen as you stop squirming and he holds your face 

“Concentrate on the important things Y/N” 

He leans over you, forcing his cock further down your throat and you choke for a minute, your hips coming off the bed as Buck turns the toy up and Eddie smacks your cheek again, giving you light taps so you’ll look at him 

“Hey, hey, hey breathe. Focus on breathing. And remember, bite if you seriously need me to stop” You nod at him, giving him two thumbs up and he goes right back to fucking your face, his hips thrusting faster as he moans. 

“Fuck I love when she sounds like that,” Buck says as he turns the vibrator up again, and your body jolts 

“You want a turn?” Eddie turns to him and he shrugs, getting up 

“Yeah why not” 

They switch places, Eddie pulls away from you, laughing at your blissed-out face and the string of drool as he slaps your tits with his cock. 

“Be careful with her, you know how excited you get” 

“She can take it” Buck doesn’t waste time, immediately pushing his cock past your lips and leaning forward as he fully stuffs his cock down your throat 

“Jesus fuckin-“ he holds it there for a minute because he really doesn’t want to cum that fast. But he loves choking you on his cock and he’s knows it’s hopeless. He shifts himself, straddling your shoulders and Eddie shakes his head 

“You’re gonna cum” 

“You think I care?” He looks down at your pretty face, your makeup running, your mouth stretching to accommodate his size, your glazed-over eyes. He smirks as he pinches your nose shut and you shake your head back and forth, he moans hopelessly as fucks your face harder. He holds the sides of your head, his eyes shutting as he listens to the wet choking noises 

“You gonna swallow it for me bunny? Gonna swallow every last drop?” his voice is breathy and heavy with lust as he growls, shooting his load down your throat, he lets go of your nose and you gasp in air as he pulls away, spilling his cum all over your face. He flops back on the bed and you tug at the restraints, your body completely overwhelmed 

“I-I’m I’m gonna-“ 

Suddenly the suction toy is taken away and your mouth drops wide open, you buck your hips uselessly, trying to follow Eddie’s hand as he sets the toy down, but he just pushes your hips back onto the bed 

You nearly cry as he adjusts the ropes on your thighs and smacks your throbbing pussy 

“Awww but you’ve already cum little one, remember? You’ve already had your turn!” He smiles sadistically as he grabs a washcloth from a little bowl on the side of the bed, wiping your face clean 

“You wanna pick another one babe?” He looks at Buck who blindly stretches his arm out and grabs another toy. Eddie takes it from him, a large purple wand

“Ooh, this one’s double-sided!” He pulls the ropes back, clicking the toy on and spreading your soaked folds. He slots the toy in the ropes and pushes it right against your clit 

“No! No please no!” You’re nearly crying as the toy is trapped between your legs vibrating against your clit. You curl into yourself your hips grinding down on it as you make a high-pitched whining noise and Buck laughs 

“Awwww, you poor little baby. You need help?”

“Daddy, please, please Daddy” You’re begging now, feeling that coil tightening up in your belly again 

“She’s right Eddie, we should give her clit some rest. It’s double sided right?” 

“No- that’s- that's not what I me-“

Buck turns on the wiggling function and you scream as he sinks it deep in your pussy. You nearly roll over, fucking the air helplessly and they both laugh at you

Eddie comes over to the end of the bed, kisses up Buck’s torso, and opens his legs, laying between them 

“Since she’s oh so busy…” He looks at you, rolling your hips helplessly and you tug at your restraints again 

“And seeing as how I’m the last one to cum” He whispers in his ear, lining his cock up with his hole. Buck opens his legs more, wrapping them around Eddie’s waist 

“She’s about to cum” He murmurs, kissing Eddie slowly Eddie reaches over, pulling the vibrator from you, watching as you clench around nothing and scream in frustration 

“How did you know that!!” You squeak out as he tosses that toy aside and grabs a rose with a longer tongue than normal 

“I know your body better than you do gorgeous” He winks as Eddie traps the rose between your legs and the ropes, he pulls away from Buck for a moment and smiles when he whines. 

“For your own safety, since we’ll be busy” He frees your hands and pins them above your head 

“But if you touch yourself… even once” his voice is deep, threatening “I will make you pay for that… you understand me?” 

You gulp, biting your lip “Y-yes sir”

“Good girl. Now sit up and watch us” He winks before going back to Buck who captures his lips eagerly, running his fingers through his fluffy dark hair and tugging roughly. Eddie lines his cock back up again and thrusts into him, his head falling onto his shoulder 

“Fuck you feel so good” he moans lowly as his hands grip Buck's hips. Your mouth drops open as you watch your boyfriends going at it, Eddie pushes Buck's legs up to his chest, his cock plunging in and out harder each time as they both completely ignore you and the way you’re struggling against the ropes 

Eddie chases after his own high now, an animal-like lust taking over as his hips snap into Buck’s over and over again. His hands slide over his hard body, stretching across the gorgeous plains of smooth skin, enjoying the way his body flushes with need. 

“That’s my good boy… take this cock” 

You fall over onto your side, panting harshly, as you watch Buck wriggle and moan under Eddie, he looks over at you, reaching for you and you take his hand 

“You wanna cum now baby bunny? Hm?” He looks just as blissed out as you do as Eddie fucks him, his thighs slapping against Buck’s 

“P-please Daddy please I can’t take it a-anymore” 

“Too fucking bad” Eddie pulls your hands apart and pins Buck’s against his chest 

“Not until I’m done” his breath hitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. Buck arches his back, his legs wrapping tighter around Eddie’s waist and shoving him in deeper 

Eddie reaches over, turning your toy up all the way and you scream again, rolling over and trying to grind yourself into the bed, your body moves in sync with Eddie as he cums in Buck, slamming his hips into him and holding it there, letting out a loud growl as he falls over onto him, still slowly, sloppily thrusting. 

Buck cums just as hard, thick, hot ropes splash over his chest as he cries Eddie’s name, his hips thrusting into nothing.

“I think I’m in love” He smiles deliriously and Eddie laughs, nuzzling his head into Buck's shoulder 

“Yeah me too” 

They both finally look over at you, panting harshly. The toy is still going and you’re on your back again, your legs bent, you don’t even look coherent anymore. 

“I think we killed her” Buck mumbles and Eddie coos at you while pulling out of Buck. Your eyes go down to the way tendrils of his cum drip between the two of them. It’s messy and it’s hot. 

“Awww I’m sorry baby girl did we forget about you?” He pulls the toy away and your body shudders under his touch. Your body taught and overly sensitive 

Buck rolls over gingerly and helps Eddie untie you, your limbs relax as they rub them gently, working out any soreness. Your eyes follow each move, they’re so slow and dazed 

“Can you even speak?” Buck chuckles as he rubs your thigh, nuzzling his nose against it. He can smell your sweet arousal, dripping and never released. You’ve practically made a little puddle underneath you. He kisses across your thigh, burying his nose against your clit and inhaling slowly 

“Fucking hell” He moans, languidly lapping at your clit. It’s so puffy and overstimulated at this point all you can do is cry, the tears fall and you cover your face, sniffling into your hands 

“What did we say about covering those pretty tears…” Eddie pulls your hands away, leaning down and kisses your tears, licking them away as he holds your chin in his hand 

“You deserve a present” He whispers in your ear “Doin' so fucking good. You haven’t cum once…” 

You look up at him, a little whimpering noise coming from your throat and he smirks, laying down on his back and maneuvering you on top of him with Bucks help. Eddie’s cock, still creamy with his earlier release slides into your ass with ease. He groans deeply, holding you there for a minute before Buck crawls in front of you two 

“You ready baby girl? It’s your turn” Buck gets on his knees, stroking his cock and tapping it against your poor abused clit. You reach out for him and he grins, leaning down over you and kissing you. He holds your face like Eddie had, pulling away a bit and spitting in your mouth 

“God you look so fucking stupid” He whispers, kissing down your sternum “Like a sweet little whore, just waiting to be used….” 

“We should get her in a glory hole one day” Eddie snickers as Buck rubs your thighs, spreading them slowly and lining his cock up with your entrance. He pushes the tip in, feeling you suck him in greedily 

“God that would be the dream, seeing her full of cum?” Buck sighs and thrusts into you, causing you to cry out, finally making a noise 

“What if we got that fake cum stuff and just… covered her in it?” Eddie thrusts after him and they start a smooth rhythm, thrusting in sync 

“I’ll look into it” Buck agrees as he captures your nipple in his mouth, sucking on the hard little nub and massaging the other. Eddie reaches over to the pile of toys and grabs a little riding crop. He hands it to you and grabs your tits, squeezing them together 

“Make him go faster” He whispers in your ear and Buck looks up just in time for you to bring it down on his ass. He gasps, his hips speeding up immediately and Eddie laughs wickedly 

“You’re such a good little doll” 

He speeds up in time with Buck and soon all three of you are moaning, it doesn’t take long, as soon as Buck's hand comes down on your clit you’re screaming for them, your back arching off of Eddie’s chest, squeezing his cock tighter as you squirt wildly, your juices dripping down the front of Buck’s body. The second you explode he does too, cumming in you at the same time Eddie cums in you with a shout. 

You’re so overstimulated you keep coming, over and over as Buck and Eddie ride out their highs inside you. You desperately cling to Buck, clawing deep into his back, his grip on your hips is bruising, leaving sweet purple marks of how hard they’d been fucking you and torturing you

Buck pulls out of you with a wet pop and you fall off Eddie and onto the bed, sobbing into the blankets

Eddie pulls you into his arms, chuckling softly and rubbing your back as you cry into his arms. 

“Awww lo siento mi vida… did we go too far?” 

Buck comes around and lies on the other side of you, his body conforming to yours and wrapping his arms around your torso 

“You need anything?” He mutters into your neck, rubbing your thighs and you shake your head, wiping at your eyes 

Eddie pulls away from you long enough to get your favorite blanket and the teddy bear you keep next to Buck’s from his childhood so they can be friends. He stops for a minute and rolls his eyes, grabbing Bucks too. 

He eases back into your arms and hands you the bear as Buck pulls the blanket over you, tucking you in. 

“You okay baby girl?” Buck holds his bear up to your face, giving you little kisses and you snort, hiding your face in Eddie’s chest 

“I’m not a baby!” 

“You’re our baby,” Eddie says, tilting your head up and kissing your nose “Now accept your teddy kisses” 

You facepalm and awkwardly turn on your back, taking the teddy bear and giving it a big dramatic kiss 

“Happy?” You look at them and Buck kinda giggles a little, shaking his head 

“Okay. Hear me-“

“Shut the fuck up” Eddie reaches over beating him with the pillow and Buck screams, yanking it from him 

“You have the fucking audacity when I caught you jerking off into her third favorite pair of yoga pants that she’d taken off with her underwear to go shower!” 

Eddie’s mouth drops wide open because those had been ruined that day and neither man would own up to it or tell on the other and you’d received four new workout sets as an apology and enough orgasms to forget all about it

“You did what?!?!!” You whirl on Eddie and Buck screams, already running down the stairs 

“I’m gonna kill you!” 

[eddiesghxst]

eddie fucking reader doggy style n pulling her hair🤭

YEAH😃

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

Eddie is fucking you like he needs it to breathe. He’s fucking you like he was born to do it, like every cell in his body was made for the sole purpose of fucking you.

It’s so good you can’t form any words, can’t even tell him how good it is when he asks because all you can do is nuzzle your face into his pillows and moan. You’re breathing in short gasps, body jolting with each powerful thrust Eddie is giving you. His fingers are digging into your hips deep enough to leave prints and it has you shaking in his hold, hands curling into fists against his sheets.

“Fuck,” he moans, “keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna fucking blow.” He squeezes your hips, thrusting deep into you to where the curly hair at the base of his pelvis kiss against your ass. You draw out a moan, pushing up against him as he runs his hand up your sweat-dampened back, humming as his fingers sink into your hair.

“I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby,” He says, knuckles curling against your roots to pull you up from the bed, back arching until you’re palms are pressed into the soft sheets. “Don’t hide them from me, let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” He hums.

You pant, chest heaving as you breathe in the sex-filled air of his room. He pulls out, glancing down to marvel at the way your slick pussy clings around him, dick wet with your arousal and proof of previous orgasms. He slams into you, hard enough to have you choking on a moan, “Oh my god, Eddie.”

“There we go,” He drawls out, “Keep moaning my name, sweetheart.” He pants, glancing down to watch your ass bounce with each of his thrusts.

Your neck is craned so far back you can already feel the ache it will leave when Eddie is done fucking you, but the sting of his hold feels heavenly.

Eddie‘s gaze is still stuck on your ass, dick twitching inside of you when he thinks about what it’d be like to actually fuck your ass. He can’t help it when he sticks his thumb in his mouth and brings it down to smear his spit around the tight rim of your ass, groaning when you squeeze him harder.

He sinks his thumb in, just down to his first knuckle and you gasp, clenching around him, “E-Eddie,”

He grins at the sound, tightening his hold on your hair and pulling you closer to where your pressed against his chest, “So pretty, baby. Gonna let me fuck you back here someday?” He grits into your ear. You pathetically moan, nodding your head as best as you can, “Yeah— want it. I want it so bad, please.” You beg.

Eddie’s grin widens, “Atta girl. Always knew you were a slut just waiting to get your ass fucked.” He removes his thumb from your ass, basking in the moan you let out, loosening his grasp on your hair and less-than-gently pushing you forward to fall back into his sheets.

He cracks a hand down on your ass cheek and you cry out, body jerking from the impact as he hums, “Ass up, baby— I’m not stopping until you’re pushing me away.”

[hearts-4-vicky]

PT.2 WITH KKURA AND CHAE??? omg.. u just got back and it was so good

CALL OVER YOUR HOMEGIRLS ★

Sakura Miyawaki x Fem Reader + Kim Chaewon

Sequel to IN FOR IT

warnings: dom kkura, pillow princess reader, overstimulation, possessive kkura, fingering, MOMMY KINKKK, they’re competitive, petnames, tits i fuckin love boobs, uh chaes jst there, jealous chaewon, edging kinda.., oral, smut(duh), slight angst, chae n reader r bad at communication, thats it…

Wc: 1k

not proofread 😞

“shhh.. shut the fuck up.. anyway, got more for me sweet girl? cmon baby, let mommy hear your pretty voice..”

Sakura started making way to you, stripping herself of clothing with each step. you stiffened, fascinated by her gorgeous body “gonna be a good girl and let mommy play with you?” she grabbed your thighs and pulled you til your lower half was near the edge of the bed. kkura kneeled between your open legs before looking at chaewon, seemingly asking her for permission to begin.

kkura started leaving soft, feather like kisses on your inner thighs, before kissing around your clit. chaewon, wanting to be included, crawled over to you. latching onto your puffy nipples, her tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. you whimpered, but what left your mouth was not chaewon’s name, but sakura’s.

both girls met eyes, seemingly exchanging thousands of words in a couple of seconds since sakura had started licking at your leaky hole. you squealed, pushing chaewons head further into your tits. though, she felt someone push her away just seconds after

Chaewon left your nipple with an audible pop, leaving it swollen and coated with her spit. “wha- kkura unnie! what’s your problem!-“ she confronted the older, before getting cut off “you said she was mine for the night, huh? don’t break that promise chaewon..” sakura went back to teasing you pussy, never pushing her tongue any further. it pissed her off, yeah, but chae wanted you to cum first. she set your head on her lap, watching you squirm around from delicate touches

“mommy… please! jus wan your pretty mouth on my needy cunt!” you whined out to the older woman,

sakura parts from your cunt, sitting up to look you in the eye “hmm? so bossy baby.. mommy doesnt think you deserve it yet.. gonna let her play with your pretty boobs and finger your cute lil pussy?” she moved one hands toward your neglected nipple, rolling it between her fingers. the action earned breathy whines from you, which made chaewon more frustrated.

sakura had her left hand circling your cunt, before putting her pointer finger in, rubbing her thumb against your clit. she never moved the finger in your pussy, wanting to edge you a bit

“ mmhng!—fuck—mommy! s’too much f’me!” your squeals were too cute to her, barely able to contain yourself and you haven’t even started yet?

“oh? m sorry baby but your moans are too pretty for me to stop now..” kkura pinched your nipple harder and started rolling your clit between her fingers, making you cry out in chaewons arms. the latter couldnt help but scowl at the elder girl, how could she make you melt this quickly?

sakura ignored the jealous pupu, shoving her fingers knuckles deep into your needy cunt, using her palm to rub against your clit. she retracts her fingers slowly, loving how you whine out her name before slamming her fingers right back in “gha!- mm.. mommy- so.. soo good” your back arched off the bed, burying your head into chaewons stomach. kkura giggles at this, she loves when a pretty girl turns to putty in her hands. your pretty noises had her creaming her panties, she wanted nothing more but to have you ride her cunt while chaewon watched. maybe next time.. she thought, “ my princess so cute like this! gonna cum for mommy, baby? go ahead..”

with that, you squirted all over kkura’s fingers, leaving no area uncovered. she rubbed circles around your arm, comforting you as you squirmed around.

chaewon watched all of this, feeling a pit form in her stomach each time you moaned another woman’s name. she didn’t introduce you as her girlfriend and this is what she gets. her pretty girl or, sakura’s pretty girl makin a mess on the sheets. she had enough, she didnt wanna share anymore.

“get out.”

“huh- excuse me?”

“you heard me.”

sakura scoffed, muttering a quick ‘cockblocker..’ before gathering her clothes and leaving the bedroom

chaewon let you catch your breath before confronting you, since you were so distracted by your orgasm that you didn’t even notice sakura leave.

by the time you fully recovered, you quickly searched for sakura, the woman responsible for the mind numbing orgasm you just had,

“where’s-“

“the fuck was that?” chaewon was livid, seeing you melt in sakura’s embrace made her feel weird. maybe it’s because your hers, only hers. “what was what?” playin dumb only pissed her off more “you were whoring your pussy around…” she was up in your face now, visibly shaking before you. “thought you were mine? what the fuck happened to that!?” she gripped your shoulders, hard, hard enough to leave deep red marks. “none of this would’ve happened if you— had just introduced me as your damn girlfriend!” you trembled in her hold, terrified of the look in her eye.

“stupid fucking bitch..” chaewon muttered, before turning on her heel towards the door, swinging it open.

“wait! chae-“ the door slammed shut.

hi my lovesss🩷 im so sorry i havent posted that much this month :( ive been busier and had little to no motivation to write.. but i hope this makes up for my absence 🎀 thank you for the support you guys 🫶🏼🫶🏼 theres over 400 of you .. like damn. if you ever wanna ask anything, please go ahead !! (as long as its not weird like some of the anons on here..) i promise that ill post another fic this week and to be more active in the upcoming month ! might make this a lil series this is so silly >.<

stay safe and i love you guys soooo much

- Vicky 💋

[sol-aranea]

Jealousy

Leto Atreides x Ex-Wife! Reader

pairings: Leto Atreides x Ex-wife! Reader summery: When y/n spends the night of Leto's inauguration party with another man, he can't help dragging her away. warnings: uses she:her pronouns, mother! reader, jealous Leto, possessive Leto, Non-canon compliant, choking, breeding, cunnilingus mention, voyeuristic if you squint REAL hard. Words: 1.7k

Y/n’s hips were guided grotesquely against a stranger's crotch, drunken babbling tumbling from his lips. The wine in her glass had been spilt and emptied long ago, the red liquid having stained her dress. She didn’t care. She kept her eyes on the new Emperor, hair perfectly styled, beard immaculately trimmed, suit crisp and void of Arrakkis’ sand. She hadn’t seen him since they lived there. After Paul gained the title of Emperor for his father, Leto disappeared, taking Paul and their daughter. This was six months ago. As his coffee eyes burned into her skin, she thought of how he’d avoided seeing her as much as possible, passing their child to her through servants. Now though, he couldn’t avoid her. And it was killing him. She looked perfect, the stain on her dress adding to the gorgeous mess that was Y/n.

Leto Atreides hated her for it.

He stormed up to her, snatching her arm and pulling her away from the stranger.

“What the fuck, Leto!” She yelled over the hustle and bustle of the inauguration party. Leto dragged her through the halls of his new palace, opened a door, and shoved her in. When Y/n observed the room around her, she realized it was a very fancy bathroom.

Y/n glared at Leto. The wine on her dress was her fourth glass, and, gauging by the way she was swaying, she was wasted. Leto looked down at her as rage rose in both of their chests.

“You need to go home,” he stated.

“Why do you care what I do?” She snapped.

“I care that my ex-wife is fucked up in a ballroom of a house that isn’t hers.” The Duke took a dangerous step toward her, his own drink spurring him on. “I care that the bitch I’m forced to call the mother of my child is grinding on random men.”

“Oh my god!” She laughed. “I only call you when it’s late, Duke Atreides. You think I give two shits about your jealousy?” Her words struck a nerve in him as she slurred them out. “I only care about you when you’re fucking my brains out.”

He snapped. Leto’s hands slammed against the counter, his body shoving hers against the extravagant sink. She gasped, legs automatically falling open around him. He loomed over her, rage seething through him. His knuckles were white from his grip on the sink, barely holding himself together. He thought the expensive porcelain would crack under his palms as he leaned closer to his ex-wife. With inches between them, he knew she’d try to kiss him. His plan was dependent on it. Like clockwork, she angled her head up, her lips grazing his before his hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her back. She huffed as he scowled at her, but it was turned into a yelp when he forced her to turn around, bending her over the sink by her neck. He tilted his head at her in the mirror where she glared at him. He didn’t break eye contact as he hiked up her skirt, baring her panties to him. The red fabric matched her dress and her now blushing cheeks.

Leto’s hands snaked around her hips, pulling her back against his clothed erection. She hummed lightly as her hips rolled against him, pulling a small groan from his throat. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear as he tore her panties. “You’re a little slut, you know that?” He leaned back again, nearly salivating at the sight of her bare before him. “No better than a cheap whore.” Her cunt was glistening and had Leto resisting the urge to kneel before her and devour her. His mouth watered for the taste of her, having laid between her legs until the hot Arrakkis sun rose in the sky many times. That was long ago, before he was Emperor. Before he divorced her. For a man who prided himself on his independence as Emperor, he knelt quite often for the woman who vexed him. 

She writhed against the sink as he let his fingertips trail lightly around her thighs, avoiding the place she actually wanted him. He pinned her legs to the porcelain, stopping all movement while he teased her. He leaned forward once more, growling in her ear. “You want this?” He let his middle finger enter her just a little, making her cry out in her desperate haze. Y/n nodded vigorously, and for once, Leto complied. He shoved one finger inside her to the knuckle, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. A curse slipped from his tongue, already weak at the knees. Leto Atreides was–and had been for years–wrapped around her finger. Should she ask him to kneel, he would kneel. He desperately hid it from her, but he knew deep inside just how far his devotion went. If she told him to take a knife to the throat, he would enthusiastically if it meant pleasing her.

Leto moved quickly, adding another right before he knew she’d be ready. After decades of bedding her, he knew her body like his own, and her squeak made him twitch in his trousers. He pumped his fingers into her pussy at a cruel pace, too fast to ignore the pleasure, but too slow to get off. She whimpered and cried under him like a pathetic little kitten, palming at his forearms to get him to stop. He bit her neck as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt. He ripped it from his trousers and unbuttoned the damned pants. Y/n started to protest when his fingers slipped from her wet cunt, but went silent quickly when she looked in the mirror to find him indulging himself, his fingers in his mouth. As he tasted her, he slid his boxers down his hips. She watched hungrily as more of his body was revealed to her. His cock sprung free proudly, and she found herself staring. He grabbed himself, moaning when he slid his hand from the tip to the base, the way she did when she used to pleasure him. His wrist twisted just once before he slid back down to the base, teeth grit as he watched his ex-wife in the mirror. For a moment both were mesmerized by the other. The Emperor found himself admiring her skin and her eyes before he snapped out of it, anger coming back. 

She seemed to have the same epiphany as he lined himself up with her. He slid into her easily, and she tightened around him as he entered. He fell forward, holding himself up over her shaking body. He cussed as he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming himself back in. Y/n cried out under him as he set a brutal pace, one hand slipping to her hip.

“Fuck-!” She whined, pressing her face to the counter to cool it.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.” he gritted out. She obeyed, hands slamming against the mirror and providing more stability to the pair.

A knock hit the door, making Y/n jump. She began to stand up, but Leto shoved her back down by the back of her neck, boot slamming against the door to stop it from opening. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” He snarled. His hips didn’t stop thrusting relentlessly into her as the intruder spoke through the door.

“Emperor Atreides, you must give your speech!”

Leto ignored him, speeding up. Y/n shrieked, legs shaking as he fucked her. His hand slipped to her thigh, forcing it up on the counter and allowing him deeper. He braced himself over her, moaning into her shoulder.

“Show me how much you missed me, baby.” He grunted. She whined under him, brain not working properly. “Do I need to tell you what you already know?” he demanded breathlessly. Y/n gasped as Leto’s hand buried in her hair, yanking her up against his body with his arm around her throat. The mirror loomed in front of her. Leto studied her tear-stained face, her mascara running as he refused to stop moving. She watched his cock disappear into her weeping pussy, her face bright red. “Look how good you take it.” He groaned, watching as his cock reappeared each time, shining with her arousal. Lewd noises filled the bathroom as he ravaged her, as he claimed her.“You’re mine, remember?” he spoke, his voice low and rough in her ear. “This body is mine. This cunt is mine.” Y/n nodded, hands clinging to his arm. “Other men don’t get the privilege of what is mine.” She gasped as his arm tightened around her throat, just barely choking her. 

“Yours.” She moaned out. Leto fought the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. He groaned as his stomach tensed, his orgasm coming fast. Y/n clung to him as she came, crying out his name.

“That’s it, darling. Come on, let it out.” He grunted, arm moving from her throat to her waist to hold her up when her legs gave out. Her eyes rolled back, brain numb from the wine and his cock. Seeing her stupid made him snap, moaning as he came deep inside her. She whimpered in his arms, shaking. He rode out his high, groaning into her neck until he came down. He let her down slowly, letting her brace herself on the sink before pulling himself out of her.

He didn’t bother tucking himself away, not until he watched his cum seep from her pussy. As it did, he ran his fingers through it, scooping it back into her and shoving his fingers as deep as they’d go. She cried out, oversensitive. Leto hushed her, running his hand over her back and kissing her cheek.

“I know, my love,” He hummed, still fingering his cum back inside her. “But you know the rules.” Y/n nodded, gaining some feeling back in her legs as he slid his fingers from her. He licked each one individually, savoring the taste of the pair mixed together. His tongue slid over his own skin meticulously as he used his other hand to tuck himself away, refastening his belt.

Leto looked for Y/n’s panties, but only found the scrap of what he’d ruined. Shit. They were going to have to do a raincheck on the inauguration speech. Especially with her current state. Leto gently lifted her into his arms after pulling her dress over her. His past lover automatically snuggled into his neck, arms around him. Emperor Atreides smiled as he planned their escape.

[chelseeebe]

there’s a honey

title based on there’s a honey - pale waves

i would give you my body but am i sure that you want me?

the one where eddie’s probably in love with you and yet you can’t even be seen in public with him.

kinda really angsty and sad i’m sorry

18+. mdni. smut. r is kinda very mean to poor eds here, maybe there’s a ltitle redemption/hope at the end.. who knows. modern au i guess.

eddie’s not supposed to be doing this, your number had been deleted and he knows he should’ve just let it ring out.

but he’d recognised those last three digits and hadn’t be able to help himself. at least this time he’d let it ring out a couple of times before picking up.

and now here he was, hand fisting your shirt, pulling it tight around your waist as he slams his hips against your doughy ass, the bed frame matching his pace as it slams against the wall.

he felt terrible.

chrissy was probably somewhere across campus waiting for him to text back while he was here, balls deep in the girl he’d sworn off last week.

they weren’t together, he’s not even sure if they’re talking but he knew he at least liked her. thought she was cute and not mean to him, but truthfully, she’s not you. she’s never going to be you.

and he’s not stupid enough to think that while you’re still in his life, they could ever be anything.

nobody else that he had ever had sex with had ever felt like this, not that it were a long list of people but still. he thinks that’s what keeps him coming crawling back every single time.

“oh my god,” you whine, arms collapsing underneath you as you fall into the mattress. moving back against him in unison, his palm coming to slap your ass, his handprint lingering.

he takes that as a sign to keep going, slamming into you with such ferocity that the sound echoes through the tiny room. the wooden bed frame close to smashing through the drywall.

“fuck,” he grunts, keeping his grip tight on your shirt, “you feel so fucking good,” unable to contain his babbles. breath becoming laboured as you squeeze around him.

your noises are muffled, face pressed into the blanket as you incoherently mumble what he thinks is his name. he can tell you’re close just by the way you’re breathing. he’s had years of experience, learnt every trick in the book to get you there before he was.

he lands another smack to your ass before pressing his chest to your back, lips sloppily connecting to the back of your neck, pressing you further into his rocking bed.

this new position allows him deeper, nudging himself against your sweet spot, just about able to keep his body hovering over yours.

“shit.. i’m close eds don’t stop,” you whine breathlessly but he already knows that. can feel himself teetering on the edge though it is absolutely necessary that you go first.

“i know.. i know,” he pants, sweaty body melting together as his pace falters, giving you everything he had for the last however many seconds.

your legs begin to shake from underneath him, fist balling his tousled bedsheets while his name falls from your lips like some kind of prayer. eddie will never tire of hearing you whine and cry his name nor the way you clench around him, turning to mush right before his eyes.

it’s the only time you’re ever soft, malleable even.

“that’s it,” he soothes, open mouth pressed to your clammy skin, hand finding your hand and resting his palm on your white knuckles as he topples over.

“fuck.. oh fuck,” he pants, slamming into your quivering cunt, painting your walls with his load, his forehead falling to the skin between your shoulder blades, head spinning a hundred miles an hour.

his arms let out, collapsing on top of you, breathing into the crook of your neck as he regains any sort of semblance of control. he eventually rolls off, outstretched on the tiny slither of bed as you come to.

“jesus,” he weeps, pulling his boxers back up around his waist, the elastic dealing a harsh snap to his skin.

you don’t honour his words with a reply, turning to lean back against the pillow, readjusting your t-shirt. you’d be off soon, he can sense it. not so long ago, you’d maybe stay the night but now it was out of the question.

eddie misses it dearly, maybe it was his fucked up way of playing make-believe for a little while but he missed it nonetheless.

“you going to tina’s party?” he asks from the pillow, eyes narrowed as you shift around.

“yeah i think so,” you shrug, readjusting your bra straps. you’re itching to leave, christ, you won’t even entertain him with a little pillow talk now.

“who’re you going with?”

you sigh, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, not willing to entertain this conversation, “i’m not sure yet,” grabbing your discarded clothes with a haste.

“why don’t we just go together?” he asks, knowing that it’ll probably push you over the edge. he can’t help himself, has never been able to understand why you’re so evasive about your relationship.

“oh my god eddie,” you frown before slipping into the connected bathroom, eddie jumps up from the bed, he’s not gonna let you run away from him again.

“oh so you are still doing this?” eddie asks, following you into the bathroom. he stands in the doorway, watching as you comb your fingers through your hair.

“doing what?”

“pretending that you don’t want me,” he pokes his finger into his temple, “playing your weird fucking game that nobody else understands,” he should stop there, but he doesn’t, “you know, nobody cares if you fuck the freak, we’re in college now, right? you’re the only one that gives a shit,” it’s truly cathartic to get it all out but he knows he’s going to regret it.

“what?” you mutter, speechless. confused why he’d just unloaded all of this onto you seemingly out of nowhere. spinning on your heel to face him, still half-dressed and disheveled.

“you heard me. and you know what? maybe i understood why you didn’t want anyone to know in high school but we’re adults now, you can’t pretend that you’re still worried about people finding out,” the scowl deep-set and unbudging on his lips.

“well i don’t want you eddie,” your face turning sour, jabbing your finger into his chest. “maybe you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that this- the sex, means more than it does, but it doesn’t,” you’re angry now, he’s got you riled up, exactly how he wanted, “i don’t care if you’re a nerd or you play board games or whatever the fuck it is that you do, i just don’t want anyone to know that i’m fucking you.”

your words are bitter, sharp even. slicing through his chest with harsh force. it’s not true, he knows that much. it’s no secret that you do care about that shit, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.

he just can’t understand why you still think anybody else cares. everybody’s too busy to give a shit about outdated cliques and who’s fucking who. it’s your worst-kept secret anyway, by the end of the night you were always hanging off of his arm or pulling him out of whichever bar you’d both coincidentally fallen into.

“you’re a liar,” eddie bites, levelling his eyes to yours, “even you don’t believe that,” he steps closer, brows knitted together as you rage on.

“fuck you,” you spit, deciding to do something he could’ve never expected. smashing your lips to his, it’s a short, passionate kiss, your fingers twisting into his shirt before he pushes you off.

“you’re fucked in the head,” he utters, voice full of sorrow. he pities you, truly. because he knows that if you’d just shake whatever weird self-doubt you still carried, that the two of you could be good together.

you push past him, pulling your jeans on as you grab the rest of your belongings. you’ve done this before, plenty of times. stormed out of here because eddie had asked you a question you didn’t like, only to call him up next weekend begging for his attention.

and he gave it, time and time again.

at your mercy, completely.

it’s the only way he’d known, not enough self-respect to end it completely. and even now, when it feels different, permanent somehow, he knows you’ll be back.

“don’t call me again,” eddie calls out, still lingering in the doorway, “i mean it, delete my number, block me, whatever. just don’t fucking come back,” his arms folded over his chest, like he meant it this time.

“oh i won’t, don’t worry,” turning to face him one last time, eyes full of spite before you disappear into the hallway, not for the last time.

-

unbelievably, the two of you had gone weeks of no-contact.

not even a drunken text to lure him over. nothing. nada. zilch.

eddie had taken that as a sign and asked chrissy if she wanted to go to the party together, at least this time he hadn’t been met with slamming doors and a screaming match.

she’d helped him do his makeup, dotted fake blood around his mouth and made them take a picture for her instagram, an incredibly foreign experience to what he’d ever had with you.

you’d taken selfies before, stupid ones that never saw the light of day. lounging in bed with a joint hanging out of your lips, refusing to ever send them to him incase he did something unthinkable. like post them or dare show anyone.

he shakes his head as if to rid his brain of the memory, trying to zone in on whatever bullshit chrissy’s friend heather was droning on about. he can’t focus, not when he knows you’re here.

see, it’s different when you’re apart. he can compartmentalise you, all of your memories, bury you in the back of his brain and enjoy the time he had with chrissy. it’s like you’ve infected him, weaving your web throughout his mind.

eddie’s phone buzzes in his pocket, pulling him out of the hole he’d burrowed himself into.

those familiar three digits flash across the screen.

bathroom 5 mins

he hasn’t even seen you yet, not that he had been keeping an eye out (he had). he shifts over from where he and chrissy sat squished on the couch, too engrossed in the conversation to have seen his phone.

“i’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” he smiles, guilt running through his veins, “get me another beer?” using that as an excuse to not do anything stupid.

though he knows himself, knows you too and most certainly knows that won’t happen.

“okay,” she grins, none the wiser, making him feel so much worse. her halloween costume was completely different to anything you’d ever worn, opting for a cute little rabbit as opposed to the ridiculously sexy getup you usually had on.

he wonders what you’ve chosen for this year, what low-cut, revealing outfit will have him on his knees, regretting his decisions this time around.

there are hoards of people everywhere, crowding the hall as he tries to shuffle through, not even bothering to knock as he reaches the bathroom.

he slips inside, quickly locking the door behind him as you sit perched against the sink. he was right. you’re in some tiny red dress, horns adorning your head. it’s fitting, really.

“so you didn’t block me,” you state, smug as shit as you lean against the white porcelain.

eddie just rolls his eyes, “is that all you wanted to say?” his hand already clamped around the door handle. it’s an empty threat, he’s not going without a fight, or a kiss, but probably both.

you bite down onto your bottom lip, the red lipstick already slightly smudged, “i missed you,” squeezing the words out, as if they physically hurt to verbalise.

“me? or my dick?”

“can’t it be both?” you smirk, pushing yourself from the sink to near him.

“not if you’re lying about the first one,” keeping his head stood tall, not letting his gaze wander, no matter how much he wanted to peer down your dress.

“i’m not,” placing your hand on his chest, looking at his lips rather than his eyes, “you didn’t miss me?”

you’re so.. so terrible. for him. as a person. whichever.

because he knows that you know he can’t resist. all you have to do is bat your eyelashes and speak softly to him and he’s right back at your feet. eddie wants to be stronger this time. to turn around and march out of here with his dignity still in tact.

but then your hand creeps lower, fingernails dragging down his unbuttoned shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake and he knows he’s fallen for it again.

“of course i did,” he whispers, barely audible because even he doesn’t want to hear it.

“who’s that girl you’re with?” you question, fingers lingering at his belt buckle, gaze flickering between his eyes and his parched lips.

“chrissy,” he feels like a dick for even speaking her name right now.

“she’s cute. she your girlfriend now?” teasing him, drawing a line down to his crotch your finger.

his breath hitches in his throat, wetting his lips, “no.. she’s- uh,” stuttering when your palm meets his dick, already rising in his pants.

“she’s what?” grinning devilishly, hah.

“she’s waiting for me,” he chokes out, just about remembering that he’d asked her for another beer.

“why don’t you run along back to her then?” knowing full well that he wouldn’t. couldn’t even.

the words tangle in his throat, coming out in a squeak, “tell me- tell me that this is just sex and i will,” finding a spurt of courage from somewhere deep within.

you don’t reply, keeping a firm hand on his shifting jeans, “eddie,” more as a warning than anything else.

“or tell me you want me,” swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, “and i’ll stay,” he’s pathetic, begging for an inch of your love, just a little of your heart.

“i can’t.. i can’t be who you want me to be,” you choke, dropping your palm from his zipper, hanging limp as you back away.

“why?” reeking of desperation, pitying himself more than you ever could, “i don’t.. i don’t understand,” the party bounces on outside and eddie can’t think of anything worse than having to go back out there with teary eyes and a tent in his jeans.

you turn away from him, keeping your palms pressed to the porcelain as you stare into the basin, “why don’t you just leave? i’m not going to have this conversation with you again,” point blank refusing to even look at him anymore.

eddie scoffs, swallowing his despair to make one last statement, “you’ve ruined my life,” choking back his cry before swinging the door open, elbowing his way through the crowd.

he pushes past drunk assholes until he reaches the front door, storming out onto the sidewalk, gasping as the fresh air hits his nose. all he wants is to scream, or puke or maybe both. he can feel the eyes of concerned partygoers as he stumbles out onto the street.

everything sounds weird, metallic like ringing through his ears until a familiar voice calls out from the doorway.

“eddie?”

[kittenlittle24]

A/n:

Recently started watching House MD and instantly fell deep into the fandom. Please forgive any mistakes, might be ooc, I didn’t write anything in a very very long time! As well as this is my first time writing a Gregory House imagine! Not good at writing summaries!

Summery: Reader and House used to date, and like a little boy now that someone else has his toy he wants it back.

Masterlist

The door to her office slammed open, she didn’t bother raising her eyes, “Yes Gregory?”

Frowning, “You know I don’t appreciate being called like that.”

She smiled, lowered the file she was reading onto her desk, and placed her hands on it, “Ah. Just like you know I don’t appreciate people barging into my office like that.”

He pulled out the chair opposite of her and sat down, he put his legs on her desk and started to play with his cane.

“Nice bling.”

She sighed and lightly smacked his feet, not wanting to hurt him but signaling to take them off.

“Are congratulations in order?”

She stayed silent for another moment, he wasn’t done, she figured.

“Though I really don’t understand why you would do something so idioti-“ he didn’t disappoint.

“House. Say why you are wasting my time or get out.”

Putting his legs down, he sat up, “5-year-old girl, fever, loss of appetite, irritability, and shortness of breath.”

“Did you run an EKG?”

Hitting himself in the head with a fake gasp, “Why didn’t I think about that?”

She got up and walked around the desk to open the door for him.

“You don’t need my consult, you know what it is. I don’t know what the hell it is you want from me, but I want you to leave.” She told him before returning to her desk and resuming her paperwork.

She heard him get up and limp to the door, only looking up when she heard it close, but just to see he was still there, her door closed once again and he was leaning heavily on his cane and looked deep in thought, eyebrows scrunched together and knuckles almost white from his grip on his cane.

“So expect me to watch you walk down the aisle, wearing all white and what?”

She leaned back in her chair and quietly replied, “I’m not sure why you think you’re invited.”

His mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows raised to a shocked expression.

“My fiancé doesn’t want me to invite an ex to our wedding.”

“Who cares what he thinks?” He yelled.

Getting up and walking to stand in front of him, “I do! And frankly, I understand him. House, you want to be miserable, fine, have at it. But please, leave me out of it! I’m done with whatever this is!” She answered with her hands moving between them.

“I don’t think you can be more done with me than not even inviting me.”

“You broke up with me! Don’t you get it? How could I marry another man when you’re sitting right there? I’m marrying him and then I’m leaving the hospital.”

“Leaving me,” he added defeatedly.

She nodded and looked down. Not able to look at his blue eyes.

“Marry me instead.”

Her eyes shot up to him, shocked and so each speechless.

“You don’t want to leave the hospital, you love me, I love you, I’m an asshole and you could tell me that everyday for the rest of my miserable life. Please, be miserable with me.” He asked in a low voice, half jokingly.

Against her better judgment, as if forgetting the pain he put her through when he broke up with her because she got too close and he was too afraid of intimacy and letting anyone break his walls down, she took his scruffy cheeks in her soft palms, raised his head to lock their gazes and whispered, “I guess I am an idiot.” Before she placed her lips on his, kissing him passionately, feeling his salt and pepper beard scratch her chin in the best way possible.

[astralnymphh]

im scared cus this is my first req buttttt.. ellie fucking u w a breeding strap but keep stopping to watch the fake cum ooze out and make her dirty comments 🫣

+bonus ugh it would be so hot if she made u suck it first then gave u a facial!!! or she gets carried away n it gets ALL OVER u (and in u lollll) like back thighs face UGH I NEED TO BE STOPPED

apologies for taking FOREVER but omg ELLIE GIVING YOU A FACIAL. lemme expand on this. MDNI. 𐙚

𐙚 ellie gives you a facial

"yeah–ha? too big for you?" she cooed in that conceited tone, the one she curls and swirls whensoever you can't take her in sheer size, hence now. a tone that ensues to badger you, inflame you, to thrust your throat faster. you bob your head, like all hell you bob with might– shaking fingertips pressing gently into her soft, pliable butt, inching her in further. her silicone cock, it's veiny shaft scrapes in tiny grooves along your gullet walls, puncturing the very depths with a brazen cockhead so feckly– you gag. a series of 'uuaghhs' and 'bhhhmms' that buzz like a bee on her dick ellie could only hope to phantom feel. cold, webby spit is all your taste buds could swill, a bland taste in frothy soaks. her cockhead presses against your inner–most gullet wall– uvula if you want terms, the bulbous mass getting you to gag once more, akin to thrusts and thrusts hence. you spit, detaching your pouty wet buds, "guuhh–ah, ack!" and tightropes of beady sap–like consistency leashes from your lips to your throat, laying like strings of spaghetti over the plush of your bottom lip. ellie giggles with smuggish pique, cooing at you more, "hehe– fuck babe, makin' me wanna fuck your pretty mouth.. ohh~" her brows pinch in rumination of that appealing enigma, to fuck your throat. you raise, throat clearing roughly, "I've been sucking it for minutes now, is it not go–" she cuts you off, large palm swinging around your head to tangle knuckles to knots in your locks, "scuse' me, m'not finished yet–" she slams your caving mouth over her cock, sheathing it wholly, "–that's why." she replies with wit staining that voice. goddess damn it. pump, pump, pump– the more your hair tousled, the harsher her pumps glide. those dauntingly sexy hips you cradle in two measly grasps fuck into your slobbering gob like there's no tomorrow. wetness amalgamates in bubbly drops in the pit of your lap, sweat cakes on your tense forehead, and your gags remain punted back by the force of her cocktip seeking a gushy release in harsh strokes. moans echo, they rattle your skull, flowing much like grunts of bestial nature– grizzling out of her lungs. "unhhh– yeahhh baby, take me in there, take me in– mghhh." it's ruthless, yet ruthlessly hot, not a big feat for ellie though– she has no qualms when it comes to being effortlessly hot. one tightly drawn squeal with grit, and she's cumming– everywhere. no use paying a cell of your mind to focus on the rivers of clear cum that trickle from her engorged pussy lips, because inversely, her stinging grip tugs your head off and slinks over to grab taut hold on her girth, oozing out all that delectable– pearly white serum all over your face. it saults beyond your brow ridge, groups of globs beelining for your chin. snail trails of sticky glue emissions paint you like an abstract canvas, dripping with strings onto your chest and your belly– and your thighs. ergo, everywhere. ellie continues to aim her cock in patterns, purposefully smothering you with her gloopy release– cause fuuck was it lewd to see you glossed like a glazed donut. a stifled, "cummin' all over that pretty face, yeah– take that." gusts through the tight gaps of her teeth, living as the only sound to overrun the squelching of her sleek bulging out of that cocks' tiny little hole. a final bead purls from the hole, diving straight for the tip of your nose. her grasp given, she loosens up, slinking a curved finger over to smear any leftover cum over her cock's size. giggling like a dork, in rasp, "oh god," fakely gasped, "she cum all over you? shit babe–" you scowl in feign at her, pursing brows, "you clearly intended to do that." you snap, to which she replies dumbly, muttering, "mh– noo, just lose control of 'er, fuckin' hot though right?" her thumb presses a dent in the rubbery thickness, slapping the cock down on your coiling lips. you giggle, "really fucking hot." with intentional foxiness pitching your words, thereafter flattening your tongue out for her to slap on– which she does, bouncing her pretty cock on your pretty tongue. ౨ৎ

ellie definitely enjoys this, too much.

will orbly write a fucking u w a breeding strap another day lol. gotta finish this fic!!

[princessbrunette]

moony mentioned pope enjoying being edged on her blog and it’s got me thinking about drummer!pope who is an obsessive perfectionist who forced you to test his stamina and endurance by edging him. it’s almost like torture at this point. self inflicted harm.

he always saw sex as something like pounding out an hour long non stop drum solo, full on whiplash 2014 style. your arms are aching, at first its this pleasurable sort of tingle that sparks all down your spine and dwindles in your biceps, pushing you to slam harder against the drums and smash the cymbals like your life depends on it — but as time goes on, you look for moments of relief. you start to really ache, and that was his weakness. what kind of musician would he be if he constantly yearned for the break? the relief? you told him it was okay to give yourself moments to recover. he responded that he wanted to be perfect. you told him it was his virgo placements. he nodded like he understood. pope was always more of a science guy anyway.

so there he is on his back, jaw clenched in determination as you milk his cock dry of precum, unsurely taking your hand away each time he’d tap you.

“nah, keep on going.” he strains, squeezing his eyes shut because each time he looks into your doe eyes that border on concern, he’s pushed closer to eruption.

“pope…s’okay to let it go. want you to—”

“shh, shush… please. i’m sorry just… i need to focus. please keep jerking me… yeah, just like that.” you’re instantly silenced, both hands wrapped around him starting to move once more. your knuckles are all slicked with his precum and then added coconut oil you were jerking him off with— the wet schlick-schlick-schlick sound of the moment making you shift around in arousal, your panties wet and neglected.

you take one hand off him to massage his balls. “s’so heavy popey.”

his eyes are closed and his hips roll upwards, fucking into your hand. he looks concentrated, but replies anyway.

“mhm, practically blue, i know it.”

“wanna lick every drop of it—”

“don’t.” he warns in practically a whimper.

“wish you’d just do it inside me. m’so wet for you, popey. want it in me…” you complain as he pants, squinting an eye open with his brows furrowed.

“m’tryin’ to— baby you gotta stop talking—”

“jus’ want it leaking out of me ‘til my pussy is all fat n’ sore ‘cus you fucked it all night—”

“ssssshit, fucking shit!” he practically yells, before his jaw drops with a devastating groan and he shoots ropes all over his bare stomach. you keep twisting your hand around him until he’s twitching in overstimulation, unable to catch his breath like he’s having an asthma attack. when you roll the flat of your tongue over his tip to taste him, he throws a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and groaning against his palm. eventually, he musters the strength to bat your hands away. “you killed me. you just fucking killed me.” he speaks, hilariously monotone as he catches his breath.

“you’re not the only horny one, you know.” you mewl pathetically as he opens his eyes.

“and i’m a selfish asshole. c’mere. i’m eating you out.”

[hotxcheeto]

I loved your double trouble fic, could you make another ellie x reader x Abby? No specific plot, go crazy w it <33

━ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader x Abby Anderson

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, SMUT, porn w/ no plot bro, vaginal fingering ( r! receiving ), strap on use ( r! receiving ), kissing, make outs, descriptions of c*m, oral ( r! receiving ), slight degradation, dom/sub mechanics, slightly mean ellie and abby, dom!ellie, dom!abby, sub!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - ooo bae I'm sorry this took so long but it was def fun to write!!! the title is based on the brittanny spears song "3" because for some reason threesomes always make me think of that song that I should not have been singing at such a young age LMFAO. I'm glad you liked double trouble, ily!!

PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK!! ITS APPRECIATED!!

"Don't stop, please Abby–"

The room was dark besides the sun peeking in from the window, setting below a horizon none of you cared to see.

Instead all you could focus on was the girl between your legs.

Her fingers making an obnoxious sound as she fucked into you, kissing your knee before leaning back down to return to her assault on your clit and then tease the outside of your hole where her fingers were currently occupying.

Abby's palms pressed hard against the fat of your thighs keeping them almost impossibly far spread. Fingers keeping you so full and going so fast that it made your mind melt and mouth run dry as you struggled to catch your breath.

But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried, clawing at her, leaving fresh marks on her skin for her to admire and tease you for later.

Your chest heaved heavily, your head absentmindedly turning to the face the other girl that leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed. Watching your body move and squirm with a smirk on her face.

"Ellie.. Ellie c'mere– please, please–"

It was pathetically adorable, she thought as she pushed herself from the wooden frame and took the few short steps towards your outstretched arm.

"Shit." Ellie whispered to herself but no longer was she looking at your face and was instead admiring the way your hips bucked up into Abby's mouth. The blonde not hesitating to slam you back down into the mattress with her free hand and getting you to whimper.

"Oh– m–m'gonna cum–mm–" You cried, Ellie's stare moving up your body that had been covered in your own perspiration. Shuddering and tensing all while holding back just for her.

Abby hadn't slowed nor stopped even in light of your efforts, fucking her hand knuckle deep into your cunt while her warm tongue circled your clit. Her eyes scanning your face as you gasped and choked at the feeling of the tips of her fingers running along your most sensitive spots.

"Gotta ask Abby nicely.." Ellie finally spoke as she kneeled onto the mattress beside your head, letting you grab out to her and squeeze as hard as you wanted in a desperate attempt to release some of the tension that had spread its way through your body.

"Please Abby– plea–" You continued on, babbling incoherent asks of your girlfriend which made her smile.

"You gonna be good? Can't give a brat a reward baby, y'know that."

You nodded quickly, still clutching onto Ellie.

"I'll be good, I promise– please.." Your voice died out, throat sore and scratchy, pleading eyes moving from the one laying down to the one hovering above you.

"I promise–"

"Up to you." Ellie tilted her head and shrugged at Abby, getting off the bed and disappearing towards the toy she'd been using earlier.

Barely a second passed that her words had left her lips that Abby began to fuck you with her tongue, thumb pressing down on your clit.

"Go on pretty girl.." Abby teased, continuing to play with your hole with her warm muscle. "You earned it."

You came against her mouth, legs shaking and mind becoming as heavy as a ball of cotton. Your screams and sobs like music to their ears as Abby fucked you through your orgasm.

Head digging back into the pillows, your entire body arching in a bad attempt at getting away from the overwhelming pleasure. It all became too much too quickly.

Your loud mouth, as Ellie called it, only becoming quieter when Abby pulled hers from your cunt.

She kept you on edge though, not wanting you to lose the feeling and instead slowly moving her fingers in and out of your pussy.

Just then, after a moment, she had sat up to look over at Ellie, letting out a puff of air while listening to you try your hardest to catch your breath.

The only thing you could feel though, in your dazed state, was her leaning on your knee and playing with you like you were just a toy for her. In and out, then she'd run her fingertip around your hole and circle your clit, all to keep you waiting.

You'd learned your lesson in complaining though.

"You ready?" Ellie rolled her eyes at the sound of the question.

"Is she?"

Abby wiped her mouth with her knuckle, glancing at your wet cheeks and then your watery, half lidded eyes. Chest moving up and down much slower now, glistening in the orange evening glow.

It reminded her of a painting.

"You ready for Ellie to fuck you?" She moved up, leaning down to you in order to give you a kiss. The interaction making you forget the fact that it wasn't over just yet.

"Huh babe?" She asked as she pulled back, holding your cheek in her palm. You nodded at her, leaning into her touch as you did so.

"Roll over for her then."

You did, whining at the feeling of being empty and sore but you continued moving to get onto your stomach without much of a fuss, Abby's hands gripping your hips to lift your ass up.

"Fuck." Ellie muttered as her eyes raked over your fucked out form. Doing so as she came over to kneel behind you, her strap bumping your thigh.

"Look at that pretty pussy, you're all wet for me." The fat tip pressed against you making you shove your face into the pillow that you'd gathered in your arms. "All ready to be full."

She watched in awe as you sucked her in, pushing the silicone cock into your cunt with ease at how horny you still were. Quickly bottoming out and grinning at how your ass looked pressed against the plastic harness.

Abby watched just the same, only from her spot against the headboard where she got to admire how your whole body jerked forward with each of Ellie's thrusts.

Going from slow to quick before your mind had a second to catch up with the rest of you. Squeezing your eyes shut while her movements got deeper and faster while you could only gasp and choke on your own air.

It was their favorite sight. Tits bouncing, skin slapping, the sweat forming on your forehead reminding both of them how long you three had been at this. The room hot and stuffy, thick with the smell of sex.

Your cries and moans were swept away soon after when Ellie grabbed your neck and then your face, squishing your cheeks.

"Look at Abby, look at Abby baby." You met the blondes eyes, her expression blank but her eyes told another story. "What do you say to her for letting you cum?"

"Than–thank you Abby.." You dragged her name out, seeing a smile appear on her lips. "That's a good girl."

"You're taking Ellie so well baby." Abby then said, wiping away your tear stains from your cheeks, caressing your face in her palm. "Yeah? You like when she fucks you like this?"

You nodded exasperated, sniffling in but it was almost inaudible by the loud sounds of skin on skin bouncing off the walls. Filling the room to the brim making it the only thing you could really hear.

"Fuck, you're doing good." Ellie stared down at the fake cock disappearing in and out of you, a white ring forming around the base where your ass met her pelvis. Smearing up and down as you bounced on her.

The silicone bumping into your clit again and again bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Abby's hand then grabbed your ass cheek making you turn to look back to see what they were doing. Barely able to though from how shaky your arms were, and how hard Ellie kept you pressed into the pillows

She was watching how Ellie's strap was being swallowed up by you, both girls smiling to themselves at the sight. Cum soaking your thighs and coating the fake cock.

"You're doing so good babe," "Fuck yeah she is." Abby's fingers then slipped underneath your body, toying with your clit. "She's taking it like a pro, right baby?" Ellie added, her hair sticking to her face.

You muttered an incoherent string of words that neither of them could understand, gripping the sheets until your knuckles went sore and your eyes rolled back

"What was that?" Abby asked, taking her hand away and moving to look at you again, lifting your head from the pillow with her hand.

"Think she's had enough?" Ellie mocked, Abby giving her a look. "Leave her alone, she's been good." But her voice lacked the sincerity that Ellie's lacked as well, but your mind was too far gone to realize it.

"Can–can I cu–cum now please. I'll b–e good, I promise, I promise.." You said it again and again, Abby only staring at your fucked out face and pleading eyes with no readable expression.

"Ellie?" The blonde raised her eyebrow, dropping your head.

"Go ahead pretty girl, but what do you say?"

"Thank you– oh– thank you, thank you–" You said it over and over like a mantra as you came, cum dripping from your cunt and onto the bed while your legs officially gave out.

But Ellie kept you up, shoving you back against the dick while staring forward at your face in Abby's grip. Feeding off of each reaction you had while trying to form sentences that only came out as noises.

Her green eyes then focused on the way you clenched around the toy and cried as you did so. Your entire form finally dropping when she let you go.

It was quiet for a moment, Abby pushing away your baby hairs while kissing your sweaty forehead. Comforting you and quieting your whimpers when Ellie slowly pulled the strap from your abused hole.

"You took that so well babe." Abby spoke as her thumb rubbed comforting circles on your cheek. "Of course she did, she's our good girl." Ellie's head appeared beside yours, her lips lightly kissing your forehead.

"Ain't that right?"

PLEASE REBLOG!!! Liking does nothing to boost and I like when people actually get to read my stuff!!

[babyflorencee]

Sleepy

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

I was currently on my way to pick up my boyfriend Timothée from his house, because we both made plans with a few of our high school friends a while back. I was really excited to hangout with them since I haven't seen them for a while due to Timothée's hectic acting career.

Once I pulled up to his driveway, I pulled my phone out to text him that I was here. Once I sent the message, I picked up my water bottle, about to take a drink, when I heard the passenger door open, then slam shut. I looked to the side to see Timothée slumped down in the seat with his head resting against the car door.

"Hey baby," I said, but got no response in return.

"Baby?" I said again, but this time he turned his head to look at me, a weak smile plastered on his face.

Once I got a good look at his face, I immediately felt bad for him. He looked like he hadn't slept in ages; he had blood-shot eyes, he was slightly paler than usual, with terrible eye bags, and to top it all off, a bad case of bed head. But I still thought that he looked absolutely mesmerizing. "Hi mon amour," he said quietly, almost in a whisper.

I leaned over to place a small kiss on his cheek, which earned a small smile from him.

"I've missed you," he said, grabbing my hand and interlocking it with his own, bringing it up to his mouth and placing a kiss to my knuckles.

"I missed you too," I replied, starting to back out of the driveway.

Once we arrived at the cafe where we would be meeting our friends at, I looked to the side, to see Timothée sleeping; so I leaned over to him, unbuckling his seatbelt and slightly shaking him, trying to wake him up. "We're here."

I heard Timothée let out a groan, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What's the matter, Tim?" I asked him, moving a strand of black hair out of his eye, then pressing the palm of my hand to his cheek.

He placed his hand over mine, leaning into my touch. "Oh nothing much, I'm just tired." He replied, letting out a sigh.

"We can go home if you're not feeling good."

"It's okay, mon amour, I'm feeling fine, just a little drowsy, that's all," he said, giving me a reassuring smile.

Once we got out of the car, Timothée interlocked our hands together, placing a kiss to the side of my head. "Timmy look, it's them!" I said excitedly, running a little to get to them quicker, pulling him along with me.

Once we reached their table, my friend Sally immediately got up from her seat, running up to us and engulfing me in a tight hug. "Finally, you guys are here. I was starting to think y'all were gonna stand me up," she said, laughing.

"Hey," I said back, laughing a little before all three of us took our seats.

"Wasn't Mike supposed to be here?" Timothée asked.

"Oh yeah, no, he was supposed to come, but he got held up at the office," Sally said, shaking her head a little with her words.

Once the waitress came and took our orders, I turned to Timothée, seeing that he was struggling to keep his eyes open. After a few minutes, I felt a heavyweight go on my shoulder. Looking up a little, I saw Timothée's head resting on my shoulder. I quickly kissed his forehead, mumbling a quick 'I love you' before continuing my conversation with Sally.

After a few minutes, I felt his hand unlock with mine, and I could feel him fiddling with my rings. After an hour goes by, and we finished our coffee and caught up on everything, I decided that it was time to get Timothée home. "Okay, well, we should probably head home," I said with a pout on my face.

"Yeah, of course, of course." She said back, as all three of us stood up.

"Well, we definitely need to do this more often," I said, pulling her into a tight hug.

Once we said our goodbyes and parted ways, me and Timothée walked back to our car, getting inside, and interlocking our hands once again. "Did you sleep at all last night?" I asked Timothée, turning my head to look at him.

"Not really." He quietly said, kissing my lips before resting his head against the door.

Once we arrived at his house, I turned the engine off before turning to face him, "We're here darling," I said, placing multiple kisses on his cheek.

He let out a groan before lifting his head up and unbuckling his seat belt, "Can you come inside, I wanna cuddle," he said with a pout."

"Of course," I said, smiling.

We opened our doors before walking to the front door. Once we made our way to the bedroom, he immediately pushed me onto his bed, situating himself onto of me before burying his head into the crook of my neck. "Je t'aime," he said.

"I love you too,"

[superblysubpar]

series masterlist | <- Prologue | Chapter 2 ->

chapter summary: As terror reigns in the food court when the Mind Flayer comes to collect, an old friend returns to Hawkins.

🎧 : tracks 02-12

7,615 words // my blog is 18+ // please see the masterlist for warnings - this chapter contains canon-typical gore, mentions of alcohol, blood, vomit, nausea, and parental death // spiderman divider made by @saradika-graphics

“Hey,” his voice cracks, the back of his hand wipes at his nose.

“Hey,” you echo, looking down at the duffel bag at your feet.

A trunk slams closed, knocked twice by your dad’s palm in case you didn’t hear it the first time.

When you look up, he’s smiling at Steve and that same palm is clapping him on the shoulder. “Hey, son, you coming with to the train station?”

Steve still hasn’t looked at you, and a mumbled, “No Sir,” and your mom’s unsubtle glare at your father and frantically waved hand from the porch makes him finally catch on.

“Oh, right…um…” he looks at his watch then you and Steve apologetically, “We gotta get going soon, kid, okay?”

“I know,” you nod along with the words and blink about a billion times to keep them at bay, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Your dad squeezes Steve’s shoulder before he jogs up to the front steps and raises his hands in surrender to your mother, the pair ducking their heads and hissing whispered scolds and apologizes at each other that you try to ignore.

“Did you, um,” you clear your throat and kick the toe of your converse against the crack in your driveway, desperate to say anything impressive, lasting, monumental in terms of your feelings and the moment, but nothing seems right. “You…um…”

Steve doesn’t give you the chance anyways, stealing the air from your lungs when his arms wrap around you quickly, tightly, and like they have no intention of ever dropping. Yours move just as fast, wrapping around his waist and pressing you as close together as possible, your nose squished against his shoulder that dampens beneath your cheek.

He squeezes you harder, a shaky breath slips out of him as your fingers curl into his shirt, knowing what he’s about to do and you can’t stop it.

“Don’t,” he gasps, like speaking is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, he sniffles, and he lets you go, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Steve-“ your tears slip further down your cheeks, turning the cement at his sneakers a darker gray.

His fingers press to his eyes as he quickly jogs down your driveway, a small shake of his shoulders, and then he’s around the corner and gone from your sight.

Your hand presses to your mouth, but the sob still escapes.

It’s all a blur after that.

The getting in the car, arriving at the station, the getting on the train and resting your temple against the cold glass of a window as your mother’s thumb soothes over your knuckles.

The town of Hawkins, Indiana turning more blurry each second, like it’s a distant and underwater memory, until it disappeared altogether.

Your eyes snap open as your forehead smacks the glass window, hard, as the brakes beneath the bus scream in protest at the sudden stop.

Simple Minds blares then fades from your ears and as you push down your headphones to just catch the driver’s apology.

“…‘Bout that. Looks like we got some kind of road closure, let me go see what’s going on folks.”

By folks, he means you and two other passengers who are rolling their own necks and rubbing at bleary eyes.

Around your neck, Simple Mind fades, whispers of We Belong tickle your ears as you look out the window.

At first, you just blink at what you see. A weary and anxious version of you stares back, one with frizzled hair and sunken skin under her eyes and stained and wrinkled clothing. The night beyond her too dark to make out more than the top of a tree line and the edge of a road sign. But then you catch the faint trail of dark clouds against the darker sky.

Not clouds, but a plume of smoke.

“Hawkins!” The driver’s voice whips you and your reflection’s attention to the front of the vehicle, not realizing you’ve stood while staring, hand now gripping the seat back in front of you so tightly, your knuckles hurt.

A uniformed soldier stands next to the driver, solemn faced and waiting.

The bus driver waves his hand at him and says, “Maybe you should have missed the bus, kid.”

“I’m sorry…” your finger slams the stop button on your walkman as you step into the aisle of the bus, “What’s going on?”

The bus driver rolls his fingers at you and your things, motioning you to pick up the pace so it seems as he sighs. “You’re getting off here, since your destination is Hawkins.”

The military man starts towards you, his boots heavy and thunking the whole way down to your seat ominously as the other two passengers just stare and don’t offer any of their help or even a reassuring smile.

“What do you mean I’m getting off here? What am I - hey don’t, what do you think you’re…” your tone sharpens as the uniformed soldier picks up your bags. Feeling as if you have no choice but to start following behind him as he walks back the way he came with each of your bags slung over his shoulders. “Excuse me? Where are you going with my things? Hello? What’s going on?”

“Some sort of fire or something blocking the road,” the driver’s tone attempting to assure you but doing the opposite as he adds on, “The military will escort you the rest of the way into Hawkins.”

“The military will…” you start, confused, as you’re basically shoved down the steps of the bus and you turn back to face your driver with wide eyes as your feet hit the road, “Why is the military in Hawkins?”

The driver snorts and just yells, “Good luck!” then the door slams closed in your face.

Your hands run through your hair as you watch the bus continue without you, watch as it turns down the road it’s directed towards instead of going straight - a blockade made out of olive and tan vehicles and accompanied by flashing blue and red lights in it’s original path.

“Miss,” a deep voice to your left makes you jump, a hand flies over your heart to settle it.

“Sorry,” the uniformed man apologizes, but his hand gestures to an open military Jeep, your bags in the back already as his brisk voice urges you, “I’ll be driving you to where you need to go.”

Your feet carry you a step towards him, seeing now that he can’t be much older than you.

“What’s going on? Why is the military here? Why…”

“The National Guard is usually called in for these sorts of things miss,” he encourages you forward with a gentle tug of your elbow, voice less severe and more soothing.

“These sorts…what? What happened?” You blink at him as he helps you take a step up into the jeep while holding your door open.

“Relief aid after a disaster, miss.”

“Relief aid after a disaster?” You clarify, certain you’d misheard him.

“Yes.”

Your hand stops him from closing the door as you frown, narrowing your eyes.

“What sort of disaster?”

“A fire,” he sighs, eyeing your hand, and you think he might honest to god be considering slamming the door anyways.

“The National Guard was called in to help after a fire?”

“A big one. Can you please-“

“Where?” You accuse, pointing to the smoke, “That’s not Hawkins. Why can’t we drive into Hawkins on the bus?”

“The mall just outside of town. The new bus route to Hawkins goes by the mall. There’s a stop there. Can we go now?”

He glares at your hand until you move it to your lap, then slams your door closed, like that’s all he’ll be saying on the matter.

Turns out, it was all he’d be saying period.

The entire twenty minute drive into town is silent after your several follow up questions go unanswered. And when he lets you out at your unlit and locked house, he quickly climbs back into the driver’s seat and goes back the way he came.

Your fingers brush your temple before they drop in a half-hearted salute as you scowl and mutter under your breath, “Protect and serve, alright.”

You’ve been awake for nearly twenty-four hours now, save for your nap on the bus that left you more unrested than rested. And now, standing on your front porch, no keys and no lights on and no car in the driveway, you’re beyond stressed, tired, and in need of a gallon of coffee and a hug from your mom.

As you stare up at the stars and think of some sort of plan - it dawns on you what day it is and why your parents might not be home. Your legs and back ache and beg you to sit as you make your way down the driveway once more, leaving your bags right there on the porch - nobody is going to steal your shit.

This is Hawkins.

The worse thing that’s ever happened here is when Sarah Gillespie’s mom had that owl fly into her hair in 5th grade.

As your feet bring you around the corner of Cornwallis, you see the big house at the end of the street is just as dark as your own.

There isn’t a line of cars down the block or kids playing with sparklers or running around with flashlights for night games. There’s no adults all boozed up and laughing around a bonfire, waiting for fireworks. No grill smoke in the air or splashes from the pool in the backyard.

Just one woman, mumbling to herself in a matching skirt and blouse as she yanks a large trunk down from the brick step to the curved walkway.

“See how you like it when I’m not here to buy the groceries, or take your car in for its wash, or pour your whiskey and tell you dinner’s ready you lying, cheating, son of-oh!”

Vivian Harrington’s hand jumps to her chest as she turns to see you next to her car. A mess of your old best friend’s hair and eyes and a few of the same freckles as she blinks at you for a few seconds and then gasps your name and envelopes you in a surprising hug.

Not so surprising though, when you smell brandy on her red lips as she takes the smallest of steps back and asks, “What on earth are you doing here sweetie?”

“I…” It’s a shock to hear her voice after so long, shocked that she’s still Mrs. Harrington, though a slightly more tipsy one, but maybe that was just naivety shielding you from that before, “I was looking for my parents. You didn’t have your party for the fourth?”

“Gosh,” she says, grunting again as she bends to pick up her luggage, offering you a charming smile when you pick it up easily for her. She wipes her brow before resting her hands on her hips to watch you with the next two matching bags. “Honey, I think they might still be at the carnival? Larry threw a whole big thing this year. And we haven’t had one of those parties in…four years? Five? Whenever…John,” she grits out his name before continuing, with a smile you can hear her teeth grinding in, “Started going to the office in Chicago more.”

She slams the trunk down as if it’s an axe and the closure a head.

A shiver drips down your back as she glares at the house.

“Chicago?”

“So he tells me,” she waves a hand and sniffles, dramatically, scrunching her nose as her forehead furrows in a way that you’re sure she’ll be pulling and tugging at in a mirror and fretting over later. “Anyways, that’s where John is and I,” she huffs as her heels sink in to the gravel over their driveway before she tugs open the driver’s door, “I will be in Michigan. At my sister’s house on the lake for the rest of the Summer.”

She makes a little oof noise as she misjudges the seat distance from her butt, righting herself and patting at her hair.

“Mrs. Harrington, are you…” you trail off, unsure if it’s really your place to ask her if she should be driving. Especially when she eyes you cooly and her tone is icy.

“Am I, what, dear?”

Your mouth clamps closed as your clammy fingers flex at your sides before they close the door for her.

“Um, before you go,” you force your best smile and polite tone, “Would you happen to know where Steve is?”

Her fingers turn the key and the car rumbles to life loudly as she squints her emerald eyes at the windshield.

“Work? Could be still at work I suppose probably not at this hour…maybe a date? The carnival perhaps? I never know anymore with him, he’s very…moody, lately.”

“Moody?” You ask, your smile turning into a frown.

“God, yes,” she moans and leans out the open car window, forehead in her palm as she stage whispers to you, like she’s told this secret to everyone, “Just sits out by that pool but never swims in it anymore. Ever since that Wheeler girl broke up with him. It’s honestly been a terrible time trying to fix it all. I mean, I’m well respected, as you know, but there’s only so much I can say and do, you understand?”

“Su…sure,” you nod along like you know what she’s talking about and she reaches out and grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze.

“You’re welcome to wait here for him if you like, I’m sure he’ll not be too long and he can give you a ride to look for your parents? I would, but…”

When she trails off and smiles at you, you take a step away from her car, message clear.

“Thank you, Mrs. Harrington, drive-“ She’s already halfway down the driveway, fingers waggling out the open window as you finish, “Safely,” with a wince of your shoulders as she nearly takes out the mailbox.

Your shoulders fall as the taillights burn red, then disappear and the quiet night returns. A pricey perfume lingers in the air and floats on the warm Summer breeze. An owl hoots as you sit on the brick doorstep and lean your head against the post, wondering what in the world you’re going to say to him.

Originally, you thought you’d have so much more time to prepare. Thought on the bus ride from New York to Chicago you’d think of something. When you didn’t, you were sure from Chicago to home you would. And even then, you were supposed to be home - supposed to see your parents, sleep in your childhood room and wake up to pancakes with a smiley face made out of bacon and whipped cream before attempting to go find Steve.

And why hadn’t your parents told you about the carnival? They were expecting you, shouldn’t they have been home? Though your dad can’t pass up a corndog, so maybe they just lost track of time. It’ll be fine. Once Steve is home, you’ll…

“You’ll what?” Question muttered under your breath as your head falls into your palms, elbows resting on your bent knees. “Hey Steve, remember me? No? Cool, can I have a ride home?”

A frustrated laugh and groan slip past your lips as you knock your head against your knees and fight off the urge to scream. You know it’s not reasonable to think he wouldn’t remember you at all, his mother did and who knows how much she’d had to drink.

But you know it’ll be weird. Know you’re both very different people than the ones who saw each other last. Know you’ve had lives outside of one another for a very long time.

You’ve gone to school and graduated. Had jobs. Dated, and thensome, multiple people in the years it’s been. He probably made new friends. Has a social life you don’t fit in to anymore - that was already becoming clear the last time you were here.

The words ‘that Wheeler girl’ and ‘moody’ make your teeth scrape against your bottom lip, cheek to your knee as your back rests against the post and you keep your eyes on the end of the driveway, waiting.

The sound of loud, dragging footsteps makes your eyes pinch closed harder before they start to flutter open. Your mouth is dry and your back and neck may be permanently curved from the crouched position you had been sitting in for -

Every bone in your body protests in the snap of you standing upright, blinking at the dark blue sky just starting to turn lighter, pale pink brushed across the top of the trees. The sound of birds chirping barely breaking through the cotton in your ears until you hear a low, deep laugh that pulls your attention to the end of the driveway.

A boy who looks familiar and yet not at all is walking up his driveway. Longer than you’ve ever seen it brown locks all pushed back in a futile attempt as strands fall over his forehead when he smiles at -

“Oh fuck,” you whisper to yourself and blink your eyes closed then open as your tongue wets your lip and you wonder how the hell you’re going to explain just hanging out at his doorstep as he’s showing up with a girl after being gone all night long and -

Your stomach clenches at the sound of his voice, clearer as he gets halfway up the drive.

“That asshole better have my car in the driveway by tomorrow, is all I’m saying, okay?”

Steve’s got his arm slung around the girl’s shoulders, her’s around his waist as they walk slowly, like they need help themselves, but they’re supporting the others weight too. She stifles a yawn with a free hand before speaking.

“I just think you need to sort out your priorities and also…”

The girl’s voice is a little raspy, tinged with sarcasm and sleep as she trails off when she looks up and spots you.

Steve looks at her, the same furrowed lines his mom had hours ago forming on his forehead and the corners of his mouth curved down in a frown when his gaze leaves her eyes to follow their line to you.

He stands up straighter, his arm lingers against her but then falls limply at his side as he takes a step towards you. He scuffs his heels over the loose gravel of the walk and blinks at you.

Steve’s entire body is one big bruise from what you can see, the worst of it all being one of his eyes swollen and dark purple, his lip split fairly fresh from the way the red on his chin and cheek are so stark against his tan skin. His hands go to the top of his head, all of his knuckles broken, blue and purple or dried maroon and the gesture makes his shirt that’s covered in something that looks like a foul mixture of puke, blood, and something slimy lift, exposing the faintest line of skin and dark hair that disappears into his very short shorts.

It all makes your stomach burn and your chest feel so tight when he swallows and he just keeps staring at you. Part of you wants to find whoever did this and strangle them with your bare hands and the other part of you is…well you don’t know what it is except confusing, and all you can think to say is:

“What are you wearing?”

The girl’s laugh barks out of her in one short burst before her hands slap over her mouth. Until she’s letting them drop and saying, “Steve? Steve!” As he takes off in a run.

His shoulder slams into the gate of his backyard as you and the girl run after him, only skidding to a stop on his back patio as he falls directly into his pool, fully clothed.

Turquoise water illuminated by the underwater lights splashes up and out over the lips of the pool as his body sinks to the bottom. A dark blue Adidas hits the bottom and pushes him back up forcefully, his body shaking as he gasps loudly when his head breaks the surface of the water.

“Fuck! Shit! Oh my god this hurts!”

“Yeah no shit, Harrington! You’re covered in cuts and you just dived into chlorine!” The girl throws her hands up into the air.

Steve’s hands push him up and out of the pool so he can roll out of it ungracefully. He lays with his back against the cement, chest heaving while he keeps his eyes closed.

When he opens them again, he looks at you, then stands with difficulty it seems. Water drips off of his outfit, it curls his hair behind his ears, and pools in his cupid’s bow.

He swipes at his eyes, wincing, and blinks at you but talks to the other girl, “Rob-Robin,” he shivers through the words, teeth clicking together, “You see her too, right? I’m not…this isn’t like a weird dream, right?”

The girl, Robin, looks at you, then Steve, “Yeah, I see her. Who’s…her?”

“I’m-“ Your voice breaks when he gasps out your name in a barely choked back sob.

He falls forward, head landing heavily on your shoulder as his body curls into yours, while shaking fingers grip your shirt at your hips and he just sobs. Cool pool water and his warm breath compete to make you shiver as you run a hand over his spine.

Your eyes widen as they stare over his shoulder at the girl who’s watching him with as much worry as you feel. It’s a whisper against his temple, and it’s all you can think to say, “Hey, stranger.”

His sob rattles your chest as he holds you tighter, like he has no intention of letting you go.

Steve’s staring at you.

And, to be fair, you guess he doesn’t really have anywhere else to look and you’re staring at him too.

“Take a picture,” you soak another piece of cotton with alcohol as you whisper, “It’ll last longer.”

“Sorry,” he clears his throat as he looks down at the floor then immediately back up into your eyes. His one good eye bounces between yours before his tongue pokes at the cut that just won’t quit on his lip as his adam’s apple bobs and he says, “You shouldn’t have come back.”

The words make you flinch, just barely, but enough for the cotton next to his eyebrow to nudge against his skin just a little too hard.

“Shit,” he hisses, grabbing the hem of your shirt and tugging while his lips pout, and he whines, “That’s not what I meant. Don’t attack me.”

Your eyes roll as your fingers go back to tenderly swiping over him, being more gentle with him than you would an egg you don’t want to crack just yet. Each second you slowly patch him up a new discovery about the boy you don’t really know anymore reveals itself in forms of facial hair, freckles you’ve never seen, something that smells an awful lot like your mom’s hairspray, and eyes that haven’t changed one bit aside from almost swallowing his pupils whole because they’re so dilated.

“Glad to see you’re still a dramatic baby,” your voice is as soft as the touch of your fingers against his jaw. Your pulse quickens when he leans his weight into the hold more, his eyelashes fluttering while you turn his eyebrow into the light. “Maybe if you sat still and kept your mouth shut for more than two seconds I could finish this.”

“I like her,” Robin’s voice rises with the steam from behind the closed white shower curtain directly across from the counter Steve is leaning against. Her words breaking up the quiet ‘Never-Ending Story’ theme she had previously been humming.

Not for the first time tonight you wonder, a) if Steve didn’t have something to lean against, would he collapse, and b) how long Robin and Steve have been dating.

You still aren’t sure what is going on. Why they are so beat up. Why Robin didn’t want to shower alone or why the silence seemed to make Steve crazy until his shoulders relaxed when you suggested turning the stereo in his room on. The voices and music of Journey faintly coming from the other room as Robin threw clothes over the shower curtain and Steve spread his legs for you to stand between while he dripped pool water all over the white tiles. All mumbled apologies as knees and thighs bumped, as his hand squeezed at you whenever you started on a new injury.

Like now, as some sort of healing ointment rolls over his brow and his fingers dig into your hip. Your murmured sorry lost as he frowns at the air and sarcastically asks, “Oh do you? Nobody asked for a comment from the peanut gala Buckley.”

“Gallery,” Robin and you say together.

Steve’s frown turns more pout and you sigh when his lip starts bleeding again. He holds an arm over his stomach, fingers twitching at his ribs when you carefully place a bandage over his brow.

“I’m pretty sure it’s gala.”

Your thumb gently swipes over his lip with a towel, his gasp warm against your nose as you lean in to inspect it.

“Dingus,” Robin’s sigh more dramatic than his, “Please, I have to hear, why you’re so certain it’s gala. Peanut gala? Why would peanuts be going to a gala?”

“Oh,” he speaks around you trying to get his lip to stop bleeding, a useless attempt since he won’t stop moving, “And gallery makes so much more sense? At least mine gives Mr. Peanut a reason to wear his top hat and coat and eyeglass thingy.”

“Monocle,” you offer quietly, taking his hand from your elbow and assessing the damage to his knuckles. “And I don’t think peanut gallery is about Mr. Peanut at all.”

Steve’s hand pulls out of your hold, his fingers curl under your jaw and nudge it up, so you’ll look at him. He shakes his head no. “You shouldn’t have come back. Why’d you come back? Why are you here?”

Your pulse races, far too close to his fingers, and you wonder if he can feel it. Wonder if he can see it in your eyes how scared you are and how brave you’re trying to be.

“Why shouldn’t I be here?”

He seems to think you thought he meant here, at his home, and not Hawkins, because his jaw clenches as his thumb taps at your chin and you wonder if he even realizes he’s still holding your face.

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t be here. I asked why you’re here. Because,” he laughs, he shakes his head like he can’t really believe it, “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it. And sure, I’m not the smartest guy around and I took some pretty hard hits tonight, but even I know that it’s weird for a girl, one who I haven’t spoken to in over three years, to have been here, sitting at my doorstep, waiting for me, and is now patching me up like…like…”

“Yeah?” Your voice cracks as tears threaten to spill over your lash line. Body too hot as steam from the shower clings to your skin and anger starts to boil over inside of you. “Well I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around why that boy who doesn’t understand why the girl, one who he used to call his best friend until he stopped calling her and never once came to visit her, started sobbing when he saw her and is covered in injuries he won’t explain!”

“I’m sorry,” Steve laughs, and stands up, toe to toe with you as he looks down his nose and huffs a breath out of it, hand letting go of your face to grab your shoulders and shake, “But when he stopped calling her? And yeah, I didn’t visit! Because you stopped visiting, because-“

“I only stopped calling because it was embarrassing!” You shout at him, shoving his chest and watching his face twist in pain when you do.

Steve gasps and you swipe the tears falling down your cheeks away as you both glare at each other. He rubs his hand over his chest and side with a grimace.

“Take off your shirt.”

He shakes his head no.

“Take off your shirt right now Harrington or I swear to god I’ll-“

“You’ll what!?” He pouts at you.

Your fingers tug at the hemline of his shirt, yanking at it as you grumble, “Still so fucking stubborn, I can’t stand you-“

He swats at your hands and grumbles right back, “I can’t stand you…”

His name is gasped out of you as you get his shirt up and over his ribs. He gives up, arms falling limply at his sides as you continue to pull at the shirt until it’s around his neck. He stares at you, both of you not saying a word but understanding as he slowly raises his arms with a wince and you pull the fabric carefully over his head.

It falls at your feet as tears fill your eyes, your fingers brush over purple and red splotched and angry skin. Steve flinches as your fingers glide over his collarbone, hands instinctively going to your hips again and squeezing. Goosebumps rise to the surface of his skin as your tears fall down your cheeks once more.

“Hey,” he whispers, he pulls you into his chest, one that you can’t believe is covered in dark hair. Arms that ripple with muscles you’ve never seen circle around your waist as he mumbles into your hairline, “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

Your nose presses to his neck, dragging against his skin as you shake your head no and pull away from him.

“You tell me who did this right now.”

Steve stares at you and then he runs his hands through his hair and closes his eyes.

A throat is cleared and you jump, hand over your eyes as Robin’s voice cracks behind the curtain, “Sorry, didn’t really know when to break that up, but I’m getting pretty cold in here…”

Neither of you had heard the water turn off, or noticed the mirror was growing far less foggy during your screaming match. Steve’s cheek blossom pink as he throws a towel over the curtain.

Your arms cross over your chest as Steve’s do the same while she pulls the shower curtain back.

Robin smiles shyly at you and then looks at Steve.

“You got cocoa?”

His brows furrow together and he looks at her like she’s crazy when he asks, “What?”

“Hot cocoa,” she clarifies, holding the towel to her chest and then walking into his bedroom.

She starts pulling open drawers until she finds what she’s looking for. When you both just stare at her, she whistles and turns her fingers for you to spin.

Steve rolls his eyes but does as she asks and you do the same. A towel drops and clothes slip over skin while the radio plays quietly.

“Conversations like this are always easier with cocoa, I think,” she says, much closer now and you turn to find her digging around in his drawers for a comb, a sweatshirt and shorts on.

Steve hands her one as he asks, “Conversations like this?”

Robin shrugs her shoulders, looking at you in the mirror as she detangles wet hair easily and mumbles, “Understand why you got your nickname now. Top tier products, dingus. I approve.”

He rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Robin. Focus.”

“Right, well she,” Robin nods her head back towards you, “Wants to know about all of this,” she gestures to all of Steve’s face and bruised body with a hand. “Christ, you’re hairy. And after tonight, I think I deserve to be filled in on quite a bit, don’t you? So. Cocoa? Marshmallows?”

The way Robin raises her eyebrows at Steve and doesn’t leave much room for arguing has you rolling your shoulders back and asking him, “Your mom still keep that fancy cinnamon kind on the top shelf in the back of the pantry?”

Steve’s a terrible story-teller.

He paces while he talks, he gestures with his hands and leaves sentences hanging in the air as he waits for you to fill in gaps he doesn’t quite remember or know all the details of himself. He asks you to give him a second when he sips his own cocoa and closes his eyes trying to remember things, rubbing at his Hawkins Phy Ed sweatshirt while he thinks. Steve bounces around in a non-linear, confusing timeline order that has you and Robin asking question after question and him clenching his jaw and telling you that, “He’s getting there, alright?”

And none of it makes any sense. None of it.

Not Will Byers going missing but not missing. Not the spray paint on the theater and Nancy Wheeler sleeping but not sleeping with Jonathan Byers. Not the dinner with Barb’s parents and oh yeah his party with the pool and Nancy and Barb going missing afterwards. Not the supernatural dogs that are actually lizards. Not the gray fleshy human not human that he hit with a baseball bat full of nails while Jonathan and Nancy set it on fire in a bear trap and the Christmas lights talked to Joyce Byers. Not the world that’s somehow underneath you but not anymore because the gate, whatever the fuck that is, is closed. Not the girl with superpowers who doesn’t have superpowers anymore though, you guess.

Because that’s what Steve thinks, now, caught up to tonight and the few days leading up to it. He’s just finished telling you about the creature, the giant thing made out of people that destroyed the mall and caused the so called “fire” the National Guard was called in for.

Your name is barely heard through the ringing in your ears as you frantically search his entryway for keys.

His hand shakes your shoulder, hard, and you stop, blinking tears away as he asks you, “What are you doing?”

“Keys,” you gasp, fingers rubbing at your eyes, “I need your car keys. I need to go home, I-“

Steve shakes his head, “I don’t have my car. They had to keep it to sweep it for bugs and explosives and-“

Your head shakes as you rip your shoulder from his hold and yank his front door open. Heartbeat thudding in your ears in time with the soles of your sneakers against the pavement as you run down his driveway.

Sprinklers tick on lawns and mowers wave to you as you run down the street. The town of Hawkins oblivious to what’s been happening underneath them, around them, oblivious that their loved ones could be gone, could be in danger.

Your stomach heaves at the thought, anger with yourself fueling your sprinting legs to go even faster. How could you stay at Steve’s so long? Why’d you go there in the first place? What if-

Your feet only slow when you reach your house.

The driveway still sits empty.

Your bags still rest on the porch.

A sob rips out of you as you run around to the back of the house and search the ground. A large rock hits your fingers, and you don’t think twice about grabbing it and throwing it at your back door.

Your hand pushes through the shards of glass as you unlock the door and push it open.

Steve finds you on the ground, clutching your stomach and screaming, chemical bottles open and drained on the tiles around you, bags of your mother’s gardening soil ripped open on the table and his stomach heaves.

He pulls you into his chest and tries to get you stop, pressing his nose to your cheek and rocking you as he pleads, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you have to stop. You have to stop screaming. Please be quiet, don’t-“

Your hands shove at his chest as you scramble over your bags and boxes that had been shipped a week prior, left in the entryway unopened.

“Get away from me,” you sob, rushing to the stairs as you yell, frantic, “Mom! Dad!”

Photos of you and them stare back at you each skipped step up the staircase as you turn on the lights with shaking fingers and beg the universe for this to be some sick and twisted nightmare. When you push open their bedroom door and find the bed unslept in Steve says your name softly, behind your shoulder.

Your hands shove at him when you turn to face him, smacking at his chest and hoping it hurts as you sob, “Why didn’t you check on them! Why didn’t you call me!”

Steve’s eyes fill with tears, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone! I shouldn’t have even told you! I could get in a lot of trouble, I could-“

“We have to call the police, we have to call-“

Steve shakes your shoulders, begging you to listen to him. “We can’t. Hopper knew. He’s dead. There’s nobody else to tell. The government already knows. It is the government.”

“Why’d you stop writing to me! Why didn’t you come with them to visit! Why didn’t you…you…” Your hands shove at him harder, tears and snot all over your face as your fight drains out of you. Anger turns to grief turns to hatred turns to hopelessness in seconds within you, not even knowing what to be the most upset about anymore.

“You stopped coming back,” Steve chokes out, grabbing your hands and pulling you towards him slowly. “Because every time I ran into your dad at the store and he asked me if I wanted to come over for dinner I knew I had to say no because I’d feel like a loser. Coming over here and pretending I was a part of your family still, knowing you didn’t want that anymore. Would have to pretend like the pictures of you and hearing about how much better your life was in New York wasn’t killing me because you didn’t need me or Hawkins anymore, okay?”

He falls to the ground with you in his arms as you sob, clutching his shirt in your fingers and pressing your screams to his chest so they’re muffled.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffles into your hairline as his arms squeeze around you tighter and he presses his cheek to the top of your head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The key to your dad’s Bronco swings loosely from your fingers as you hop up the step to the door and tap your knuckles against it.

When he doesn’t answer, you let yourself in and close the door softly behind you as you glance up the stairs.

Music plays loudly from the cracked door of his bedroom and when you hear his voice singing along, you lift the camera from around your neck and start fiddling with the settings, pulling the shutter back as you climb the staircase quietly.

As you peek through the ajar door, you find Steve in front of his mirror, twirling a can of Farrah Fawcett spray in the air while his other hand runs through damp, not wet, hair, before he catches the can in the air and sprays twice.

Then, he sings directly into the can and you snap a picture of it.

He spins at the sound of your laugh and frowns at the held aloft camera in his face.

“Please,” you smile timidly at him as your shoulder rests against the doorframe and the toe of your sneaker nudges the door open wider. “Don’t stop the performance on my account.”

Steve quickly presses the power button on his stereo and picks up a vest from his desk chair. His cream colored shoulders slip into the maroon vest and your lips twitch at the coincidence of the song and outfit he’s chosen today.

“They don’t knock in New York?” He asks, pulling on a pair of Nikes. Lacing them up and avoiding your gaze as he looks around the room, eyes landing on a sheet of paper and nodding his head, like he’s reminding himself of its location.

“Oh they do,” you shrug your shoulders, “ S’why I left.”

“Ha-ha,” he bites his cheek when he stands, hands finding a home on his hips, “So what’s up? Why are you here?”

Something in your chest tightens at the question, especially when he grabs the sheet of paper and looks at you with a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes and adds, “Don’t you have work?”

Your head shakes no, as you beg yourself to say something, anything, to let him know how sorry you are. To let him know even an ounce of how you’ve been feeling lately. But nothing seems right and it’s selfish to want to have this conversation right now, so you just say, “I start on Monday. Wanted to come say good luck on the interview today.”

He sighs, cheeks and tips of his ears pink as he walks past you out of his room and down the stairs. “Thanks.”

“Family Video, right?” Your tone forced into something light and pleasant as you follow him. “Sounds like a good gig.”

Steve snorts as he grabs his car keys from the table. “Yeah, okay.”

He holds his front door open for you as he walks out it and you follow with a confused, “You don’t think so?”

“No, I do,” he locks the door behind him, shoulders staying up at his ears even after the shrug of them is over, “I just don’t think you, the newest photo journalist and first female one at The Hawkins Post, actually thinks being a clerk at Family fucking Video is a good gig.”

“Well, I do, and that’s all I wanted to say so…” your sweating fingers fiddle with the key as you try to catch his gaze and smile at him, deciding that everything you actually wanted to say isn’t worth it, not when you’re not even sure he’ll want to listen to you. “Good luck, Harrington.”

Your back turns to him as your hand waves pathetically when you start down to his mailbox and Robin Buckley bikes up his driveway.

She smiles at you and hops off her bike, “Hey! How are you?”

“I’m good, good…” your tongue licks over your bottom lip as you squint from the sun at her friendly smile, shielding your eyes with your hand, “Good luck on the interview, today.”

“Thanks!” She turns to Steve behind you, “Ready, Dingus?”

He must nod or something because she waves at you and starts guiding her bike up the rest of the driveway.

When you hop into your dad’s car and turn the key in the ignition, the cassette you’d been playing starts blaring loudly. Your fingers curl around the steering wheel as you inhale then exhale, trying to find the courage to face another day without them and without the Steve you desperately needed, but weren’t even sure existed anymore.

Things weren’t the way they had been with you two, maybe they wouldn’t ever be that way again.

Your head smacks the roof of the car when Steve says your name at your open window, breathlessly.

He winces as your hand rubs at your temple and the other turns the stereo down.

“Sorry, but do you…” he swallows and crosses his arms, uncrosses them and shoves his hands in his front pockets and rocks back on his heels.

“Do I…?” You offer, heart thudding in your chest when Steve looks up from where his sneaker kicks at the gravel and smiles at you.

“Would you um, if I get this job, I’ll get free rentals, and I was just thinking that maybe we could, if you wanted to, have a movie night this Friday? Grab a pizza or something and…talk?”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat and sniffle, blinking your eyes about a billion times and telling yourself to just wait until he’s gone to start crying. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“Cool,” he smiles around the word. A real one. One that meets his eyes.

“Cool,” you echo with your own smile.

Steve taps the roof of the Bronco twice and it makes something in your chest tighten and melt at the same time. He hooks a thumb over his shoulder and starts walking backwards, “Well I should…”

“Right, yeah, good luck,” you tell him again, yelling it out the open window.

Steve smiles at you once more and then jogs up to his car, whistling along to the song playing out of your car. Robin stands at the door on the passenger side of his BMW, pretending not to watch but blatantly watching while Steve says something you can’t hear. His arms held out in a gesture that seems to say, ‘what?’ ,before he’s clapping and motioning for her to get in the car. Even from this distance you can see her eyes roll.

Your smile is barely hidden, bottom lip squished between your teeth.

Maybe things not being like they were between you two will be a good thing.

Change is inevitable, and time will keep ticking by whether you’re ready for it to or not.

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 7 The Past

Summary: Memories of the past suspended in time. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: *THIS CONTAINS SERIES SPOILERS* Pre-Outbreak AU, mentions of past trauma, mentions of loss and grief, mild violence, language, mentions of alcohol, yearning, angst A/N: Dare I say, this is my favorite chapter yet. If you haven't connected the pieces by now, then this will answer every question you've had. There were so many signs along the way, and I encourage you to go back and find each and every one. I know this doesn't soothe the heartbreak of the cliffhanger but please know this chapter is IMPORTANT. And we can all agree that Joel is the STANDARD. * I want to thank @loonmartell for helping me navigate this idea and creating a beautiful story that is slowly coming to fruition. You are truly a mastermind, and I give you all my thanks and love*

Masterlist | Ko-fi

~Three and a half years ago~

Joel paced the waiting room, consumed with guilt and anger. He shouldn’t have let you leave that night. Bennett had called you asking to meet for dinner under the guise of wanting to give back the things he still had been holding onto. Joel should have gone with you, should have told you to stay, should have broken Bennett’s jaw. Joel couldn’t have forced you to stay; he knew you needed closure. After the downfall of your relationship with Bennett, you deserved answers.

Whatever happened between leaving his house and the accident would remain a mystery, and Joel was ready to track Bennett down to find out the truth, but right now, all that mattered was you. 

Your mom rounded the corner, followed by the doctor, both of their faces grim. Joel’s knees threatened to buckle under him, the worst possible scenarios running through his head. 

“How is she? Is she alright?” He asked, the words jumbled together and confused.

The doctor raised a hand to slow Joel’s frenzy, and your mom’s eyes stared at the floor.

“She’s awake,” the doctor started. “But there were some… complications. We just finished taking her for some tests, and we’ve determined she’s sustained a form of retrograde amnesia.”

“She can’t remember the crash?” Joel questioned. He swiped his sweaty palms over the denim of his jeans, anxiety bubbling in his chest.

“After analyzing her CT scans and running some cognitive tests, it looks like she’s lost a large chunk of her memory,” the doctor explained.

“How large are we talkin’, doc? A few months?”

Your mom stepped forward, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. 

“She asked for Bennett when she woke up,” she whispered. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Joel snapped. 

“She has no recollection of the last two years,” the doctor said.

Joel staggered back, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening.

“You’re tellin’ me she has no memory of me?” Joel shouted. 

“Joel, calm down,” your mom hushed, her eyes darting around the crowded waiting room. 

“Calm down?” He echoed. “Jesus, she doesn’t fuckin’ remember me! I need to see her. I need to—I need to tell her.”

The doctor stepped forward, a frown creasing his face.

“It’s imperative that we don’t disrupt her current condition. Any interference with her memory may cause more complications with the amnesia. If we force these forgotten memories on her, it’ll cause too much stress on her brain and ultimately lead to permanent damage. If we want her to regain her memory, we need to wait.”

“How long?” Joel pleaded. “How long do I need to wait?”

“We don’t know,” the doctor sighed. “With amnesia this serious, it could take weeks or even years. There’s no way to determine the timeline right now.”

Joel’s anger flared up, and he slammed his fist into the wall beside him. The pain radiating up his knuckles and hand was nothing in comparison to the pain splintering inside his chest. He was losing you, and you didn’t even realize it.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” the doctor said. “I know this isn’t easy, but it’s what’s best for her and her recovery right now.”

“But she doesn’t—.” Joel couldn’t get the words out. 

He crumpled to the ground with his head in his hands—two years' worth of memories together gone in a matter of seconds. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t know Joel loved you; you didn’t remember that you loved him. 

“Joel, sweetie,” your mom cautioned, crouching beside Joel. “You said she was with Bennett before the crash, right?”

Joel lifted his head and glared at your mom through teary eyes. He didn’t want to be reminded that Bennett had returned; he didn’t want to fathom the idea of him being in your life again.

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously thinkin’ about tellin’ him all this,” Joel said. “Y’know what he’s like with her. I can’t let her go and watch her be with him.”

“We need to contact him at least and tell him. If she thinks they’re still together…we must maintain that memory. We have to try. If it’s something Bennett wants and is willing to do, then we have to. I know you want to tell her everything, but her brain is so fragile right now. It’ll scare her, and I can’t risk losing my daughter entirely. Joel, I need you to understand what's best for her.”

“And y’all seriously think Bennett is what’s best for her?” Joel laughed bitterly.

“Of course we don’t, honey. The thought of Bennett comin’ back around kills me, but what if there’s a chance her memory will return sooner than we think? She won’t have to keep him in her life forever, but only until everything comes back to her.”

“And what if it doesn’t? Y’expect me to watch the woman of my dreams love another man? What if one day they get married? Or have kids? I’m supposed to pretend like none of this ever happened?” 

Christ, the thought of that made Joel sick. He didn’t want to see you continue the rest of your life with a man who didn’t treat you right. He couldn’t do this… He couldn’t stomach this plan. 

“Joel, listen to me,” your mom hissed, grabbing him by the collar. “We need to play the long game, okay? I’m not giving up hope on my daughter, and I know you won’t either. You love her, don’t you?”

Joel nodded helplessly, mouthing the word ‘yes.’

“Then wait for her. It won’t be easy for any of us, but we all need to want this. I’ll talk to my husband and the girls about this, and we’ll work through all the details. Lying isn’t easy, but it might be what ends up saving her memory.”

That night, Bennett showed up at the hospital. 

Joel wasn’t in his right mind when Bennett walked into the waiting room. The moment he saw his smug grin and floppy blonde hair, Joel lost it. 

“Motherfucker!” Joel yelled, sending his fist straight into Bennett’s jaw. 

Bennett reeled over, staggering back into a waiting room chair, while your dad pulled Joel away. A murmur of voices among the other bystanders dragged Joel from his vengeful haze, and he stared at Bennett unamused. He wanted to see him suffer the way he had been suffering. 

Bennett worked his jaw back and forth, glaring at Joel as he sat beside your mom. 

“This is the thanks I get for agreeing to meet with you guys?” Bennett huffed. 

“It’s your fault she’s in that fuckin’ bed,” Joel snapped. 

His body still thrummed with unbridled rage, his hands shaking at his sides. Stella, Beth, and your parents were all gathered around the waiting room, taking their respective spots in one of the chairs. Joel couldn’t sit. He didn’t want to be any part of this. 

“Joel,” your dad snapped. “Cool it.”

Joel folded his arms over his chest, staring daggers at Bennett as he made himself comfortable in his chair. Your mom leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. 

“Bennett, we need to know what happened before the accident,” she pleaded. “Joel said she was with you, so what happened?”

Bennett shrugged, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms. 

“I asked her to come back,” he said plainly, as if it were that simple. Joel seethed, his body twitching as he tried not to hit Bennett again. 

“Why?” Beth interjected. “You don’t even fucking like my sister. Why would you do that?”

“I do like your sister,” Bennett argued. “I told her I had made a mistake and that I wanted to try to make things work.”

Beth rolled her eyes, a scowl forming on her face. 

“You waited almost two years to make that discovery?” She cackled. “What actually happened?”

Bennett lifted a hand to his jaw, massaging the reddening skin as he quirked a brow at Joel. He was playing with fire; Joel just needed one more reason, and he’d kill Bennett on the spot.

“I told her to meet me for dinner to talk,” Bennett explained. “I still had a few of her stupid books she left behind, so I figured it was a good opportunity to meet with her. I tried to explain my side of things and why I wanted to give us another shot. She just laughed at me. She took her little books and left the restaurant without hearing any more of what I had to say.”

Joel felt a strange sense of pride knowing you had laughed in Bennett’s face, but given the circumstances, it quickly faded. A bitterness flooded his tongue at the thought of you returning to the life you had with Bennett, especially when he spoke of you with such disdain. 

“Why does any of that even matter?” Bennett questioned, looking between your parents.

Your mom cleared her throat and spoke up.

“The accident she was in caused some damage to her brain,” she began. “The doctors determined she has a form of amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything from the last two years.”

Bennett’s eyes grew wide, and he slid Joel a knowing look. 

“She thinks she’s still with me,” Bennett concluded. 

Your mom gave a solemn nod, running a hand through her hair. Joel could see the stress written all over her face, and he could see the pain in her eyes as she realized what was about to happen. 

“The doctors think it’s best not to overwhelm her with the memories she’s lost. We don’t want to do this, but it may be best if she resumes the life she thinks is still intact, which means introducing you back into her life. Is that something you’re open to, Bennett?”

Bennett didn’t say a word for several minutes. All he did was stare at his hands in silent contemplation. Beth and Stella sat unmoving, and Joel caught Stella sneaking glances ever so often. Finally, Bennett turned to Joel and studied him before speaking.

“And you’re in agreement with this?” He asked.

Joel gave a single nod, though he was reluctant to do so.

“I’m willin’ to wait for her. She needs time to regain those memories, and I don’t wanna cause any stress on her if she thinks she’s still with you. Trust me, I ain’t happy ‘bout it, but I love her.”

“And if she doesn’t get those memories back?” Bennett pressed.

“Then you better make her the happiest girl in the world and never fuck things up again,” Joel frowned. “I swear I’ll hunt you down if y’ever hurt her. I love her with my whole fuckin’ heart, and I’d do anythin’ to make sure she’s happy.”

“I love her, too, you know.”

Joel had a hard time believing Bennett, but there was a seriousness in Bennett’s eyes that made Joel’s heart ache. He was giving up the one good thing in his life to someone who didn’t deserve your love. Joel was a patient man, but that didn’t stop his heart from breaking. Who knew if you’d ever remember him again? He would have to live his life knowing you may never come back and that he’d have to carry that pain with him every single day. Hope was a fickle thing, one he would rather forego if he could just tell you the truth, but this was his only option. Joel would have to give you up. And he would do it because he loved you beyond all measure. 

Your parents took Bennett to meet with the doctors to discuss your current condition and the future it would entail. Joel stayed behind with Beth and Stella, the three of them blanketed by an insurmountable pain that couldn’t be healed. 

“What if we never see you again?” Stella asked, her eyes full of tears. 

Joel sat beside her, pulling her into his arms and letting her head rest on his shoulder. She was only fifteen, but Joel knew she was aware of the gravity of the situation. Even though she was older than Sarah, he always viewed Stella like another daughter; he had watched her grow up the last two years, and Joel adored her just as much as he did for his daughter. 

“Y’gotta stay strong for me, Stell,” Joel sighed, squeezing her shoulder. “She's gonna get those memories back one day, and I’ll be right there when she does. None of y’all will ever lose me. I swear that to you.”

Stella sniffled back tears, curling into Joel’s embrace. He glanced at Beth beside him, giving her a sad smile.

“I’m trustin’ you to look out for her, okay?” He said. “She needs you more than anyone. I know you ain’t happy ‘bout all of this, and I sure as hell ain’t either, but it’s gonna be okay.”

“I don’t agree with any of this,” she grumbled. “I hate him, Joel. I hate all of this.”

“I hate it, too, Beth,” Joel said. “But I love her more, and I’m willin’ to wait for her.”

Beth exhaled, slumping back into the chair. Joel could tell she wanted to say more, but she held her tongue. Joel knew Beth’s anger ran deep for Bennett, and he hoped she’d learn to give you grace through all this. It wasn’t your fault this decision was being made. It was what they all thought was best. 

Your mom returned an hour later to gather the girls and usher them home for the rest of the night. Joel’s head was throbbing from all of the stress, and he was on edge, knowing his time with you was running out. 

“Is she asleep?” Joel asked.

“The doctors gave her a heavy sedative to help her get through the night,” your mom explained. “In the morning, they’ll run a few more tests and figure out when it’ll be okay to discharge her.”

“Can I see her?” He pleaded. “Just so I can say goodbye?” 

The words tasted like ash on his tongue. Goodbye was a word he never wanted to associate with you. He wanted the good nights and good mornings but never a goodbye.

“Of course, sweetie,” your mom said, tears slipping down her face. 

Joel realized he wasn’t just saying goodbye to you but to your family as well. A family that had welcomed him in so quickly, a family he had spent holidays with and visited in the summer, he was losing an entire group of people he loved so dearly. 

Joel thought he was strong enough to see you, but as he opened the hospital door, he realized how wrong he was. Your face was littered with cuts and bruises, your right eye swollen shut, and your hair matted down with dried blood. It took every ounce of his energy not to collapse at the sight of you lying there, and he moved on unsteady legs to your bedside. 

He barely managed to say your name as the syllables broke out in a choked sob. He took your hand, his thumb smoothing lines over your balmy skin. Tears fell onto your fingers as he lifted your hand to his mouth, crying softly as he pressed a kiss against it.

“Oh, baby,” he cried. “I love you so fuckin’ much. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so—.”

Joel wept over your body for what felt like an eternity. He let his head hit the bed, your hand pressed against his wet cheek, inhaling the lingering scent of your perfume. Every memory with you flooded his mind: mornings spent together drinking coffee, lazy afternoons laying on the couch while you read your favorite books, weekends at the soccer fields with Sarah. 

Joel’s life had flipped upside down in the span of just a few hours, and you’d never know the decision he had to make for the sake of your health. He wasn’t the praying type, but if there were a God up there, he’d spend every night on his knees begging for you to come home to him. 

“I love you, baby,” Joel whispered. “Even if you never remember it, I’ll carry you with me forever.”

Joel leaned up to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering a second too long. He never wanted to leave this room because everything would be gone once he did. All he’d have left were the memories and an undying hope you’d wake up one day remembering his face. 

Joel spent the next two days gathering your things from his house. He piled your books into a box, along with the miscellaneous items you had littered his home with. He clung to your shirts and held them to his chest, wishing it was you in his arms. Scattered on the fridge were Polaroid pictures you had taken of Joel throughout the two years, and he slipped them away for when he was ready to relive the memories—not yet, but one day. 

Sarah came home from school and saw the boxes next to the front door, giving Joel a weary look.

“What’s happening?” She asked.

Joel crouched in front of her, taking her head in his hands. He managed to say your name without faltering and explained everything to his daughter in the simplest way he could.

“She doesn’t remember me?” Sarah murmured, her eyes welling with tears. 

Joel hadn’t realized the heartbreak Sarah would be facing, too.

“No, sweetheart,” Joel shook his head. “But one day she will, I promise. You’ll be my tough girl and help Daddy through this, alright? We’re gonna wait for her ‘cause she’s gonna come back. I promise she’ll be back one day, and she’ll be right there on the sidelines again cheerin’ you on.”

“I’m gonna miss her,” Sarah cried, crashing into Joel’s chest and wrapping him into a hug.

“I’m gonna miss her too, sweetheart.”

~ Two years ago ~

Joel’s phone rang well past midnight. Through tired eyes, he searched for it on his nightstand and prayed it was you, but an unknown number lit up the screen, and Joel’s heart stopped.

“Hello?” He answered, his voice roughened from sleep.

“I can’t do it.”

It was Bennett’s voice, frantic and shaky. Joel shot up in bed, his heart pounding out of his chest.

“What do y’mean you ‘can’t do it’?” Joel questioned.

“I—I can’t do it, man. We’re supposed to get married tomorrow, and I can’t fucking do it. She’s making me crazy. You know she says your name in her sleep? She still can’t remember shit, yet all she does is say your name when she’s sleeping. I’m losing my mind.” He was rambling through words so quickly Joel could barely keep up.

“Y’can’t just leave her like this,” Joel said. “Do y’know how much you’re gonna hurt her? You waited ‘til now to decide you didn’t wanna go through with the weddin’? Y’know how fuckin’ stupid you are?”

Bennett exhaled loudly through the receiver, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“I’m never going to make her happy, and she won’t make me happy. I’m not doing this.”

Joel scrubbed a hand over his face and stared up at the ceiling fan, turning above the bed.

“Alright, listen,” Joel started. “You get your shit together, and you leave. Find some job in another state and never come back. She doesn’t deserve this, and she definitely doesn’t deserve the heartbreak you’re ‘bout to give her. So, you take your ass and get the fuck out of town. And I swear, if you ever come back or even try to contact her again, I will kill you. Do y’understand me? I will fuckin’ kill you.”

“You’re threatening a future lawyer?” Bennett laughed. 

“I don’t give a damn what you are, Bennett. I’ll take a gun to your head the next time I see you and not even think twice ‘bout pullin’ the trigger,” Joel threatened, speaking through clenched teeth.

“She’ll never forgive you for it,” Bennett countered. “And don’t even think about coming back into her life, either. She’s better off without either one of us. God help the next guy who tries to get with her. She’s a fucking wreck.”

Joel seethed, the room going red. How dare Bennett talk about you like this? Joel should have never left you. He should have fought harder. He should have killed Bennett before he could have ever had the chance to come back. 

“I suggest you pack your shit quick, or I’ll find you ‘fore the night is over,” Joel growled. “Get the fuck out of town, you fuckin’ piece of shit.”

Joel slammed his phone shut and slumped against the headboard. Bennett would be out of your life, but at what cost? He knew this would destroy you. God, he couldn’t even fathom the heartbreak you’d face in the morning when you arrived for the wedding. Joel didn’t even let himself imagine what you’d look like, dressed in a beautiful white wedding gown. Bennett didn’t deserve you; he never did. But Joel didn’t deserve you either. You were too good for either of them. 

~ Three months ago ~ 

“Dad, I need to tell you something,” Sarah announced, walking through the front door.

She had just finished her first day of school, and Joel had gotten off work early to be home in time to hear all about it. 

The last two years had been a blur of endless work days and long nights spent drinking in the dark. He was drowning himself away in bottles of whiskey, trying to forget you and the pain that still lingered. He had considered going to you so many times to spill the truth and beg you to come back into his life. But he knew better than that. He knew you deserved a normal life without the reminder of the past. 

Joel looked up from the stove where he was cooking dinner. Sarah's face was etched with concern, and her lips trembled as she tried to speak.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” Joel panicked. 

He dropped the spatula on the counter and rushed to Sarah’s side, holding her firm by the shoulders.

“My—my teacher,” she muttered. “It’s her.”

Joel felt the world tilt on its axle, his body swaying at Sarah’s words. 

“Tell me y’didn’t say anythin’ to her,” Joel begged. 

“No, I—I didn’t. I swear. I don’t even know what I would say,” Sarah rambled. 

“Okay, alright. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Joel exhaled. He needed to sit down. 

Pulling out one of the dining chairs, Joel collapsed entirely, burying his head in his hands. Sarah rubbed a hand over his back, gently attempting to soothe him.

“Maybe this is your chance, Dad,” Sarah suggested. “It’s been enough time now. Maybe she’ll be able to handle the truth about everything.”

Joel loved Sarah’s optimism and her bright outlook on everything. Whenever Joel was ready to give up hope, Sarah was right there to guide him back. She was right, it was an opportunity to start over again, but he didn’t want to fuck it up. He wouldn’t lose you twice. 

“I’ll think ‘bout it, okay?” Joel sighed. “Let me finish cookin’ dinner, and y’can tell me all ‘bout your day.”

Joel sat across from Sarah, his food untouched the entire time she talked. He had no appetite. All he wanted to do was ask her about you: what you looked like, what your voice sounded like, what books you would teach the class. He knew poetry was your favorite. You would stay up late reading together in bed. You would always chime in with little factoids or comments about the book, and Joel would always sit there listening to every word. Shakespeare was your favorite, and Joel loved watching your face scrunch with concentration as you tried to explain the meaning behind each play. When he packed up your things three and a half years ago, he secretly kept your copy of Romeo and Juliet. Sometimes, when he was drunk enough, Joel would flip through the pages just to trace over your scribbled words and annotations, just to relive a moment kept in secret between the two of you. 

Now, his daughter would experience your passion for teaching firsthand. He was a proud son of a bitch, knowing you were following your dreams. 

“Dad,” Sarah’s voice cut through Joel’s wandering thoughts.

He glanced up from his full plate and shook his head.

“Sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?”

“I was saying there’s a father-daughter dance in a couple of weeks,” she repeated. “Maybe she’ll be there. You could see her again.”

“Yeah, maybe. I gotta see if I can get ‘round work to be there.”

Joel was all too familiar with Sarah's look of disappointment; he had seen it far too often these last couple of years. His role as a father had been lacking for a while now; he was lost in the haze of losing you, so much so that he was losing himself. Unfortunately, Sarah had been the one suffering the most because of it. 

“I’ll make it work, sweetheart,” Joel decided. “I promise.”

After Sarah went to bed, Joel sat on the couch, nursing a short glass of whiskey. He stared at the liquid as he swirled it around, the amber color shimmering under the dim light of the lamp beside him. His phone lay open on his thigh, Beth’s number sitting there waiting to be dialed. Joel had barely spoken to your sister since he last saw her at the hospital, but he knew she would be his first call. 

Dialing her number, Joel took a long sip of his drink and waited.

“Joel?” Beth exhaled, her voice groggy from sleep.

“Hey, yeah.” Joel cleared his throat. “It’s me. I, um, I have some news.”

“Did she…” Beth’s voice trailed off.

“No, no. Not yet, at least. Um, Sarah’s first day of school was today, and I found out she’s her teacher. Funny how that happens, right?” 

“Wait, my sister? Actually?” Beth sounded shocked.

“Yup,” Joel sighed. “Sarah thinks I should try and talk to her, Whatdaya think?”

Beth remained silent, and Joel cleared the contents of his glass as he waited.

“I don’t know if telling her everything right away is smart,” she said. “I mean, I haven’t talked to her a lot in the past couple of years, so maybe I’m wrong.”

“Y’all haven’t talked?” Joel questioned.

“She and I haven’t spoken since the whole wedding ordeal,” she confessed. 

“Wait, why?”

Joel sat up, one hand clutching the phone, the other smoothing over the curls sticking up on the crown of his head. He never thought you and Beth would ever be on bad terms.

“I warned her about Bennett. I tried to talk her into leaving so many times, but she was so stubborn. I don’t know what he said or did to her to make her stay, but she was always at his defense. I hated seeing her with him, Joel. It should have always been you.”

“I know, Beth. I know.”

“Have you considered maybe completely starting over?” Beth asked.

“Like in what way? Datin’?”

“Yeah. Maybe introduce yourself and see where things go. She might not regain her memory, but you’d have new memories together. She deserves to be loved the right way, and you’re the one who can give her that. Take things slow and test the water. You never know.”

Joel considered the idea for a moment. It could work, but what if it didn’t? What if he completely fucked up his second chance with you? He would have to live the rest of his life knowing he lost you twice.

“You’re suggestin’ I lie to her?” Joel scoffed.

“No,” Beth argued, her voice stern. “I’m suggesting you work your charm like you did the first time and see where it goes. She loved you once before, Joel. I think she could love you again.”

Beth’s words were enough of a push for Joel actually to consider that this might work. He knew you. He knew what you liked and didn’t like; he knew every tiny piece of you so that it wouldn’t be hard to sweep you off your feet again. The only problem he had with the plan was lying. If you ever found out the truth, it would crush you. And that terrified him. He didn’t want to break your heart; Bennett had done a good enough job of it, and Joel would never be like him. He would be better. He would prove himself. 

“Do y’think your family would agree to this?” Joel asked.

“None of us ever gave up hope, Joel,” Beth sighed. “This could be a chance for all of us to get her back—to get the old version of her back. We miss her a lot.”

“I miss her, too.”

“Go get your girl, Joel. She’s waiting for you.”

Joel spent that night wide awake in bed. The idea he could have you back in his life again set his body alight with a mixture of anxiety and fear. Beth could be right; you could love him again. There was that hope that maybe he could rewrite the past and start anew, but there was also that terrible fear you could slip away from him…permanently. You never regained your memories, and there was a good chance you never would, but not taking this risk would condemn Joel to a life full of grief. He knew grief well; he had walked side by side with it for the last three and a half years. If he could just hold you for one moment and hear you say his name one more time, that would be enough.

When Joel awoke the following day, he had made up his mind; he would keep fighting for you. 

He called Maria before school began and explained it all to her. Joel knew Maria had taken the news of your accident the hardest; you and her had always been close. She was like a mother to you here in Austin. Learning how to navigate around your memory loss had been tricky for her, but Joel knew she had done right by you. 

It was no surprise when Maria squealed with excitement over the phone, meticulously creating a master plan to bring you both together again. She promised to talk you into chaperoning the father-daughter dance and vowed to continue pushing you his way. Joel had to remind Maria that he was the one in control here; he needed to be the one to make everything work. Knowing everyone was on his side and willing to help ease his mind. 

He was going to get you back. 

~ Two Months Ago ~

Joel was running late. He had forgotten entirely about the father-daughter dance, and now he was speeding through yellow lights to make it home. He promised Sarah he’d go, but if he was being honest, the thought of seeing you again made him overwhelmingly nervous. What would he say to you? What would you think of him? What if he ruined his second chance?

Bolting through the garage, Joel called out for Sarah in a rush. She came barreling down the stairs in a blur of lavender and Joel had to stop his racing thoughts to admire his daughter.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiled. “Y’look beautiful.”

“You’re late,” she frowned. “We need to go now.”

She tugged his hand back toward the garage and into the truck. While Joel grappled with the reality that he was going to see you again, Sarah was buzzing with excitement. She saw you every day at school, but this was different. She wasn’t just seeing you… she was going to see you and Joel together in the same room since before the accident. Sarah never got to say a proper goodbye when everything happened, and Joel knew it was hard for Sarah to maintain a semblance of composure every time she sat at her school desk. The memories of you two together were embedded so deep it was hard for Sarah to ignore. Before the school year, Sarah would try to talk about you with Joel from time to time, trying to cling to the nostalgia of the past. Joel knew the suffering wasn’t just his alone; Sarah lost you that day, too. 

Joel’s hands were shaking as he put the truck in park, his eyes unsteady as he tried to focus on the school's entrance. You were somewhere inside that gymnasium; he could feel it. It was like a silent call, a tug on an invisible string, an asteroid coming into orbit. You were the pull on his gravity, just beckoning him closer. 

“Dad, c’mon!” Sarah begged, unlocking the door.

She was already skipping down the parking lot before Joel could put his keys in his back pocket. He urged her to return so they could walk inside together—maybe because he needed the moral support. He had everyone on his side for this plan, but if he fucked it up, it wouldn’t just be his loss. It would be everyone’s. 

The gymnasium was covered in twinkling lights, and the basketball court transformed into a dance floor for the evening. Joel’s eyes bounced around the room, searching for you within the crowd. Through the crowd of moving bodies, he couldn’t find you. Maybe you weren’t here; maybe it was too late. 

Joel refused to be defeated this quickly and decided to remain focused on Sarah. At the end of the day, this dance was for her. He watched as she mingled with her friends, fawning over each other's dresses and gossiping about the latest drama. Joel remained on the outer edge of the dance floor, his palms damp from sweat and his pulse racing. 

The music shifted to a slow song, and Sarah quickly found Joel and pulled him onto the dancefloor. Seeing her excitement alleviated the bundle of anxiety pulsating inside his chest. He watched as her dress floated around her with every turn, the dimples on her face appearing as he continued twirling her around. The music was slowly drifting to a close, and Joel ushered Sarah in for one last spin. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he watched her happiness radiate into the space around him. He maneuvered himself around her twirling body and glanced up toward the side of the gym.

Everything around him ceased to exist at that moment. Amidst the blurring bodies and the chaos of voices, the world stood still. There you were, standing quietly in the shadows, your body bathed in flickering lights, like a lighthouse in the distance of a stormy sea. Joel silently pleaded for you to look at him, even for a second.

As if you heard his thoughts, your eyes met his for a fleeting moment, and it’s as if you saw him. The room melted away, and it was just you and him for the briefest moment in time. Joel swore you looked at him as if you remembered…as if you had searched the room just to find him. The erratic beating of his heart slowed, his body recognizing the strange comfort of your presence even at a distance. Every cell, every atom, every piece of himself cried out to you. 

You saw him.

And he smiled.