#all my friends are busy and/or physically distant
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I think the fact that I’m allergic to my own cat actually does a really good job at capturing how I feel about my entire life as a whole but for now I’m gonna eat some pasta and maybe the sense of accomplishment from cooking something for myself for the first time in months will help delay me inevitably feeling worse about everything until a later time
#everyone loves me but no one can help me#everyone likes me but I am always alone#everyone thinks I’m great and yet I’m still completely unequipped to handle the real world#all my friends are busy and/or physically distant#my family is physically distant but when they’re here to take care of me they’re awful#every time I find something I could pursue I’m horrifically lacking in some aspect#I know exercise would help but there’s always some Problem in the way#I’m constantly lacking energy and when I have it I lack motivation#my education is the only thing I have going for me and that has been failing me horribly#I’ve never been sure about anything in my life except in regards to my reproductive system#I’ve got no emotional permanence and regret every single decision I’ve ever made#I’m kind of able to talk to people but mostly I really really suck at it#literally all I can do is lay in bed feeling guilty for feeling lonely and helpless#no one ever handheld me through life and I was fine without it#but now all I need is to be handheld#shit ass existence#wish I had the courage to just quit whining and grit my teeth and do SOMETHING#but I know the part of me that would just rather make excuses and feel bad about myself is always gonna win#I wouldn’t normally want to post something like this but I’ve never crashed this bad and like idk#part of me thinks it would help if someone could relate which I’m sure plenty do#but in a way that’s just even sadder#if everyone feels this way then what the fuck is wrong with society#but then again… I’m probably just seeking external blame for something entirely my own fault
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lovelorn and nobody knows
Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.
As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.
There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.
And to Claire.
You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.
She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.
You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.
Every part of your being wished that were you.
You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.
You felt like a lovesick fool.
Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.
The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.
As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.
There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.
When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.
So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.
He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”
“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.
“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.
You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.
“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.
“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.
“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.
Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.
You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”
Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”
Shit.
You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.
“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.
“What’s going on?” He questioned.
“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”
He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.
“I don’t believe you.” He stated.
“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”
Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.
“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”
Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”
He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”
“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.
She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”
You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”
“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.
Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#the bear x reader#the bear imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto
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Grovel - Lewis Hamilton
Part of 1K Jukebox Event
song: Grovel - April Jai - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
genre: angst bc i wanted to feel something
wordcount: +1k
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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Y/n watched from the mirror as Lewis paced across the room. He’d been like this for weeks now—tense, irritable, and locked in his own head.
She’d tried to be patient, she really had, but there was only so much silence she could take, especially when he was taking his frustration out on her with those sharp, thoughtless remarks.
Two nights prior though, they had reached a breaking point.
Dinner had been quiet until she’d asked how his day went, and his response was sharp, cutting like glass.
“Why do we always have to talk about my day?” he snapped, his tone brittle. He pushed back from the table, scraping his chair loudly against the floor, and stormed out of the room without another word.
Y/n sat frozen, her grip tightening around her fork. She took a deep breath, willing herself not to follow him, not to demand an explanation like she usually did.
Instead, she decided to give him the space he apparently needed so badly. Maybe he’d realize that space wasn’t what he wanted after all. And if he did, it would be on him to come back to her this time.
She cleared the dinner plates herself, the clattering of cutlery against porcelain echoing in the empty kitchen. The silence in the house had a weight to it, pressing down on her shoulders, wrapping around her like a blanket she couldn’t shake off. Even the hum of the fridge felt louder in the quiet.
This time though, she refused to be the one to chase after him, to coax out what he wouldn’t willingly share.
And for the next few days, their home was a quiet battlefield.
Lewis had retreated further into himself, throwing himself into training, music, meetings, and avoiding anything beyond the most surface-level conversations. Y/n kept herself busy, focusing on work and spending time with friends, leaving him to his own devices.
They shared a bed, but even that felt distant, like he was miles away despite lying right next to her.
Every time he tried to casually engage her, she gave him curt, polite responses, maintaining her distance—emotionally and physically.
It was like there was an invisible line between them, one she refused to cross. And he seemed to notice, too. She caught the way his eyes lingered on her, as if he were trying to figure out what had changed. But he didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer.
She’d asked herself a hundred times over the last few days if she was being too hard on him, if she should just reach out first. But every time, she thought back to the way his words had cut into her, sharp and careless, and reminded herself that he needed to understand what that silence felt like.
It was his turn to come to her.
On the third night of silence, their last one before he flew for a triple header, he finally broke. They were getting ready for bed, the quiet between them thick enough to choke on, when he turned to her, confusion and frustration etched across his face. “Y/n, what’s going on with you?”
She paused in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her, tired and worn from the days of carrying this tension. She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I could ask you the same thing, Lewis.” Her tone biting.
This wasn’t the first time they’d had a fight like this, but each time it happened, it chipped away at her patience a little more. It was like he thought he could just bury his feelings, shove them into a corner of his mind until they disappeared.
But they never did; they festered until he couldn’t hold them in anymore, and she’d end up bearing the brunt of it. And she was done being his emotional punching bag.
He needed to understand that his silence had consequences, that she couldn’t be the only one trying to bridge the gap between them. She’d tried to be understanding of the pressure he was under, but enough was enough.
“You just gonna ignore me, then?” His voice was defensive, but she caught the flicker of uncertainty beneath it.
She looked up, keeping her focus on his gaze, almost daring him to repeat himself. “You’re the one who walked out.”
His jaw clenched, and she could see him fighting with himself, like he wanted to argue but couldn’t quite find the right words. “I needed space,” he said finally, the frustration still evident in his voice.
Y/n let out a short, humorless laugh. “Right. Because clearly, that’s what’s been helping you so much lately.”
His frown deepened, confusion mingling with irritation in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shifted on her balance, and for the first time, she let her anger spill out. “It means that you’ve been shutting me out for weeks, Lewis. You snap at me, you avoid talking, and then you think you can just come back like nothing happened and expect me to be okay with it. But I’m not. I’m tired of you treating me like I’m some stranger who doesn’t get to know what’s going on in your head.”
He blinked, taken aback by the sudden force of her words. “It’s not like that. I’m just dealing with a lot right now—”
“Oh, I know you’re dealing with a lot,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “But I’m your partner, not some sounding board for when you decide you’re ready to explode. Do you have any idea how it feels to watch you struggle and not be able to do anything because you won’t let me in? To have you snap at me over the smallest things when I know they’re not the real problem?”
He shifted on his feet, running a hand over his face as he let out a sigh. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—everything’s so messed up right now. The car, the pressure… I can’t even think straight.”
“And you think I don’t get that?” she shot back, the hurt in her voice cutting through the air. “I’ve been here, right next to you, watching you try to handle it all alone. But you act like talking to me is some kind of burden, like I wouldn’t understand. You keep everything to yourself until you can’t anymore, and then you take it out on me. It’s not fair on us. It’s not fair on me.”
His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, she saw a crack in the armor he always wore. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said quietly, his voice sounding almost defeated. “I’ve always been the one to just deal with things on my own. I’m not good at… at letting people in.”
Y/n took a deep breath, trying to rein in the wave of emotions washing over her. “I’m not asking you to be perfect, or to have all the answers. I’m asking you to trust me enough to try. To stop treating me like I’m on the outside looking in.”
He moved closer to the mirror, sitting down on the edge of the bed end bench, though he kept his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’m not used to this—to having someone who actually wants to know.”
She softened a fraction, but the hurt was still too fresh to let go of completely. “Well, get used to it, because that’s what being in a relationship means. You don’t get to just disappear into your own head whenever things get tough.”
He reached out, tentatively touching her hips, and she felt the roughness of his fingers against hers. For a moment, she almost pulled away, but she forced herself to hold still, to let him make the move. “I know I messed up,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to push you away. I just… I don’t want you to see how messed up I feel sometimes.”
Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. “You think I don’t know that already? I see it, Lewis. I see how you’re struggling. And I don’t care if you’re ‘messed up’ or not—I just want to be there for you. But I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out.”
He exhaled slowly, and she could hear the vulnerability in the way his breath hitched. “I’m scared of letting you see all the parts of me that aren’t so put together. And I can’t lose you because of that.”
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’m scared too. I’m scared that one day you’ll get so used to being alone in your head that you’ll forget I’m even here. And that I’ll keep waiting for you to open up until there’s nothing left to wait for.”
He swallowed hard, and she could see the emotion flashing in his eyes, the way he fought to hold it back.
She sighed, her anger ebbing away, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. “Just... trust me, Lewis. Even if it’s messy, even if it doesn’t come out right. I’d rather know the ugly truth than be kept in the dark.”
He nodded, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Okay” he said softly.
She stepped forward, allowing him to hold her by the waist, his head resting on her stomach as she ran her a hand on his shoulders “I love you, Lewis, but I won’t be the person you turn to only when you’re ready to talk. You and I deserve better than this.”
She could feel the steady beat of his heart on her lower stomach, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she wasn’t fighting alone.
“Thank you” he whispered against her shirt, the words barely audible, but she heard them, and they brought a small, tentative smile to her lips.
“Just don’t make me fight you on this again” she murmured, a trace of her earlier fire returning to her voice. “Or I’ll be the one who walks out.”
He chuckled softly unwrapping from her and reaching for her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “I’m sorry, for everything.” She pulled back enough to look at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all she saw was the man she loved—imperfect, stubborn, but trying. “I know” she said, her voice softening. “I’m here, okay? But you have to let me stay.”
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i love you, i’m sorry art donaldson x reader
⚠️ Not proofread, enjoy.
You walk through the hallway of Art's dorm building, your heart pounding with determination and anxiety. The last few weeks have been a blur of confusion and frustration. Everything seemed perfect, until Tashi got injured during a match. Since then, Art’s been increasingly distant, spending more time with Tashi and less with you.
You knock on Art’s door, trying to steady your breathing. “Art, it’s me. I need to talk you.”
The door swings open, and Art looks at you with a hint of surprise. “Hey. Sure, come in.”
You step inside, glancing around the room. It’s the same as always, but the atmosphere feels different, colder somehow. Art sits on his bed, motioning for you to take a seat.
“So,” you start, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ve been feeling like we need to talk. Lately, you’ve been so distant. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Art looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize I was being distant. I’ve just been really busy, you know, helping Tashi with her recovery and all.”
You nod, but your heart sinks. “I understand that Tashi’s hurt and needs support. But what about us? I haven’t seen you in weeks. You barely text me anymore, and when we do talk, it feels like you’re somewhere else.”
Art shifts uncomfortably. “It’s not like that. I’ve just been trying to be there for her. She’s been having a tough time, and I want to help.”
You feel a surge of frustration. “I get that you want to help her, but you’re my boyfriend. I thought we were in this together. You can’t just drop everything for someone else.”
Art’s eyes narrow slightly. “I haven’t dropped everything. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“You’re here physically,” you say, your voice cracking with emotion, “but you’re not really present. I feel like I’m fighting for your attention, and I shouldn’t have to.”
Art stands up, walking over to his desk. “Look, I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. I’m not cheating on you or anything. I’m just trying to help a friend.”
“Help a friend?” You stand up, unable to keep the tears from falling. “Art, be honest. Are you falling in love with her?”
Art freezes, his face a mix of shock and guilt. “What? No, that’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me, Art!” You shout, your voice echoing off the walls. “I see the way you look at her. I see how much time you spend with her. You’re leaving me in the dark, and it hurts. I loved you first. I put everything into this relationship, and now it feels like I’m fighting alone.”
Art runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “I didn’t realize this was such a big deal. I didn’t think—”
“Didn’t think what?” you interrupt, your voice rising with desperation. “Didn’t think I’d notice? Didn’t think I’d care that you’re neglecting me for someone else?”
He sighs heavily. “I guess I didn’t. I thought it was just a phase. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
You shake your head, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s not just a phase for me. I thought we had something real, something worth fighting for. But now I’m not sure if you ever felt the same way.”
Art looks pained, but there’s an underlying resignation in his eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I never meant to lead you on or make you feel this way.”
“You didn’t just make me feel this way,” you say, your voice breaking. “You made me believe in something that wasn’t real. I need to know if there’s still a chance for us, or if I should just let go.”
Art doesn’t say anything for a long moment, his silence heavy with unspoken words. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “Maybe we need some time apart. To figure things out.”
The pain in your chest feels like a vice. “Time apart? You mean, you want me to wait around while you sort out your feelings for Tashi?”
Art’s expression softens, but there’s a finality in his voice. “I didn’t want it to end like this. I’m sorry, but maybe we’re just not on the same page.”
You nod slowly, tears streaming down your face. “I guess I’ve been fighting for a relationship that was never as strong as I thought.”
The next day, you return to your dorm after class, exhausted from the emotional confrontation with Art last night. As you approach your door, you spot a small bouquet of flowers resting on the floor. Your heart skips a beat, hope and skepticism washing over you.
You kneel down and pick up the bouquet, noticing the card partially sticking out. With trembling fingers, you pull it free and read the scrawled message:
I never meant to hurt you. I love you, I’m sorry.
Your breath catches in your throat. The words seem so out of place after the intensity of last night’s argument. You stare at the bouquet, the flowers bright and cheery in contrast to the storm of emotion you feel inside. The card is simple, and yet, it stirs something deep within you.
A part of you wants to believe that Art’s apology is genuine, that he’s realized what he’s lost and wants to make things right. Another part of you, however, is wary, remembering the hurt and confusion that led to this point.
You sit down on the floor, holding the bouquet close. You feel a pang of longing for the relationship you once cherished and the man who seemed to be everything you wanted. But the ache from the confrontation still lingers.
Just then, your phone buzzes with a message. It’s Art.
“I know it’s a stupid gesture, but I hope it shows how much I regret everything. Can we talk? I really want to fix things.”
You read the message over and over, the words echoing in your mind. You want to respond, to let him know how much his apology means, but you also need to protect yourself from more heartache.
You rise slowly, clutching the bouquet. After a moment of deliberation, you type out a reply:
“Thank you for the flowers and the apology. I need some time to think about everything.”
You hit send, with relief and sadness filling your chest as you walk into your room and place the bouquet on your desk. The flowers are a beautiful gesture, but they don’t erase the hurt or the distance that has grown between you.
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INTOXICATE ME NOW ?!
⌗synopsis ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚 ── when your ex bf suguru refuses to let you forget him — twt link drabble !
⌗cw ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚 ── DARK CONTENT. toxic relationship. , killing mentions , insane ex! boyfriend suguru , slapping , hate sex , pervert , spitting , degrading , spanking , choking , dacryphilia , daddy kink and physical violence. — not proofread !
─── ⋆⋅ 𝜗𝜚 DESTRUCTIVE is a word that could describe the relationship you and suguru shared. geto suguru was a man you still struggled to figure out; you thought you had, but he made sure to remind you that he was still an enigma in your pretty little head. the first few months were the best of your life. he was attentive and caring, always spoiling you with gifts and sweet seductive words that would send you straight into his bed, legs spread ready to receive the best dick of your life.
however, he got “bored”. that boredom led to him being distant, cold. it led him to other girl’s houses. led him to being annoyed with everything you did. when you both had sex, he wasn’t there. using you to get himself off, not caring wether you enjoyed it or not. he wouldn’t respond to your texts, leaving you on delivered for weeks. the final straw that broke the camels back was when he stood you up at a restaurant he agreed to take you on a date at. getting all dolled up for him. only for him to not show.
eventually you had to take matters into your own hands. if he couldn’t care about you, then you’d make him think that he was in the very back of your mind. so you did exactly that, moving from man to man. business associates of his, old friends, fellow rich men like himself. you didn’t care. it was all for something. a purpose. his attention, it’s all you craved. it all set off a web of insanity to unravel around you. it started off with small things. being watched, stalked..then it was your used panties going missing, or finding random..semen laying on your clothes. then the sick..sick, death threats. he wasn’t well, you already knew that, however even you didn’t expect him to go so far as to killing off every man you had slept with.
you had his attention now, what were you going to do with it? you couldn’t run. he was always watching. you couldn’t tell the police, not when he worked so closely with them, connections everywhere. perhaps your plan worked far too well. that was all made clear today. your door wide open, roses trickling from the doorstep, leading you into your living area, the large window panels leering over the city, the sky dark, the lights of the hustle and bustle down below bright and blinding.
“suguru,”
you whisper, spotting the long awaited man standing by the window, staring at the city, the trail of roses ending at him. he slowly turned around, a wry smile on his lips, sharp purple eyes gleaming at you.
“my love.”
your feet whisked you away, standing right in front of the dangerous man you so badly longed for, his cologne filling your senses, the same one that made your blood run hot with pleasure, the same one that left you in a frenzy when he’d take you on the bed. the same cologne that your body had been craving, a divine drug that left you with paralysing withdrawals. maybe that’s why you couldn’t help yourself. lips smashing against each other, hands desperately gripping where they could, bodied pressing against each other in a rush of passion. one which quickly ended as you punched him square in the jaw.
“you..you don’t get to leave me ‘n come back like shit’s sweet!..”
his hand grabbed the back of your head, slamming it into the glass, pressing up against you from behind, lips grazing your shoulder.
“stupid bitch.”
he muttered lowly, rubbing his jaw, flipping you around and slamming your body back into the window just to make you hurt, our lips crashing back against each other, quickly removing each others clothes.
“you’re insane..”
“if i’m insane then you’re maniacal”
before you could create a witty retort, his hand was wrapped around your throat, gripping it tightly, clearly pissed as he gritted his teeth, face inches from yours.
“fucking whore.”
he spat, the gloopy wad settling on your cheek before you recieved a harsh slap, only proving to rub the spit into your skin further, red hot pain searing through your cheek, the sting only going straight to your cunt, leaking down your legs, moaning as he threw you around like a ragdoll, face pressed against the cool of the window, his belt buckle being undone from behind you.
“wanted my attention baby? miss me?”
you bobbed your head, tears rolling down your cheeks, staining the supple flesh with salty black streaks, eagerly licked up by your deranged ex, his hand slapping your cheek lightly, mouth opening off instinct, moaning as he landed the salty spit on your tongue, groaning as he watched you swallow it.
“daddy makin’ you cry sweet girl?”
he was enjoying it. grinning as he pulled you back into his erection, rubbing his cock against your ass, pre-cum dripping onto your back. his hand landed on your ass roughly, yanking your head back, scowling at you.
“i asked you a fucking question bitch.”
your eyes were glazed over with lust, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you nodded slowly, more tears flowing from your eyes, happy that you finally had his affections, his attention.
“yes daddy”
you practically moaned out as he flipped you around, holding you up against the window panel, cock hard and ready at your leaking entrance. he scoffed, shaking his head in disgust at how wet you were, chubby folds glistening with your sweet slick, drooling pussy begging to be filled with some cock.
“you’re a disgusting slut. who knows how many men have been here.”
he landed another slap to your teary face, slamming into you at the same time, hand intertwining with yours, foreheads pressed against each other as he wrecked your pussy. cock ramming into your inviting cunt with a sick depravity that only the two of you could muster.
“i love you daddy”
your cries of disgusting obsession and his groans of sick toxicity filled the room, lips moving against each other, as if catching up for missed time. your legs still wrapped around his waist tightly, even though his fat tip was currently bullying your cervix, the pain and pleasure of it threatening to send you overboard, eyes rolling back, drool seeping past your parted lips, hair a complete mess, all thanks to him. body littered in bruises and bites, his way of marking his teritory, stopping others from even looking at what was his.
“missed my pussy.”
he grunted, teeth entrapping your ear, biting it hard, drawing blood from the puncture, a sharp cry being drawn out from your plump lips, his tongue lapping at the crimson liquid, your gummy walls quivering around his thick cock, desperate for release, all his sweet torture only making you crave for more.
“d-daddy mmhg! p-please- fuck!”
his hand landed on your ass, making sure he left a red hand print on the soft flesh, roughly pulling out and flipping you around again, lifting your hips, pressing your body into the window, fucking into you with renewed vigour.
“i said to fuckin’ hold it bitch”
he groaned, fingers now on your sweet bud, torturing you further as his cock ruined your poor pussy, stretching her out to the point you felt like you’d be split in half. hands desperately clawing at the windows, your body banging against them, whiny sobs filling the room, sure to be heard by anyone nearby.
“i love you dollface”
he cooed in your ear, kissing you softly, a harsh contrast to the way he was abusing your swollen, sticky pussy. your hand wrapped around his neck from behind, tongues rubbing against each other.
“cum f’me, daddy wants it pretty”
he whispered, smiling as you nodded, using his kisses to muffle your screams, juices flooding out of you, squirting all over his throbbing dick, hearing it drip onto the ground, some running down his thighs and yours, but he didn’t stop thrusting. chasing his impending orgasm, soon intertwining his fingers with yours, burying his head in the crook of your neck, biting it as he moaned lowly, pumping out a hot sticky load into your awaiting cunt, letting him fill where he belonged. in you, with you, you and only you. he was yours and you was his, till death did you part.
“i love you too daddy”
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⠀⠀ 💤 GOOD LOOKING! scaramouche x gn!reader
synopsis: kunikuzushi is confused as to why his 'heart' craves something besides you, his lover. when he comes to realize he abandoned you just like his creator and friends did to him, he returns only to be greeted by nothing. ୨ sfw, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort ୧
⠀⠀📋 this is a short nd silly little filler post while i'm working on heaps of reqs atm😵💫 this is based off of suki waterhouse's song good looking!!
kunikuzushi seeks something greater in the comforting and quiet life he has with you. after three betrayals, he's finally found someone to love and care for without having to worry about them leaving. but why is it that his heartless chest yearns for something else? is it possible you're not what he needs?
he awakes in a cold sweat when he finds out. a heart. the puppet longs for a heart of his own. being able to love and be loved wasn't enough, or so he thought. one day when you leave to get groceries, kunikuzushi asks if he can join you, to your surprise. and of course, you could never turn down your lover.
you smile and allow him to go to inazuma city with you. you tell him it's good for him, that he has a chance of meeting new people and improving his communication skills. and kunikuzushi may have met people, but definitely not the ones you would've wanted him to.
tides thrash inside, baby, i'm high octane
you find your lover's presence to be something rare nowadays, as you're spending nights alone with an empty bed and a blank mind. it's not as lively without kunikuzushi, you would think. you turn to face the window and the moon is high and proud among the pitch black sky filled with stars.
the familiar sound of the door opening alarms you and you get out of bed with a hopeful smile on your lips. "kunikuzushi!" you greet the puppet with a warm welcome as you help him take off his materials. lately, he seems to be indulging in oddly different clothes rather than the ones you sewed just for him.
his gaze is so cold and distant. you notice this while waiting for him to speak up, but he never does. scaramouche brushes past you and slides the shoji doors shut to his room. your heart twinges for a moment. you were hoping to finally talk to him after what seemed like forever, but he must be busy again. surely, he doesn't need his lover as a thorn in his side.
fever in a shock wave, my core vibrates in an opium haze
scaramouche barely remembers he even had a lover to begin with. he supposes being occupied with fatui business has taken a toll on his memory as well, besides his physical and mental state. he allowed the doctor to perform strange tests on him after studying scaramouche as a specimen. he'll admit; the "harmless" experiments performed on him were rougher than he expected, but all's fine.
if he can't take on all of this pain on his own, how can he continue his path to stealing the gnosis and becoming a God? through these experiences, scaramouche has come to hate mirrors. when he looks at himself, he finds the same vulnerable boy inside him despite changing so much within time. the split ends of his hair remind him of how he ruthlessly cut it himself after his mother abandoned him.
he merely scoffs at the thought. only weaklings dwell upon the past. scaramouche is the present and future; he believes that the past is a waste of time and it will always be that way. yet through all of this time, he didn't even realize he left someone else in the past.
yet you think we're the same
scaramouche doesn't notice your disappearance until it turns into months, maybe even more than that. well, it doesn't matter, if anything, this should help. he'll deal with the pain all by himself like he always does and it'll strengthen himself as he journeys to the birth of his becoming of a God. but why does it hurt moreso than usual?
scaramouche doesn't understand why he holds too many emotions. he doesn't want to have emotions and he never needed them in the first place. he believes it's a flaw, along with the other mistakes his creator made when making him. he doesn't understand why tears cascade down his face in an uncontrollable state as he curls up on the bed, void of anyone's warmth.
starting at that point, he began to change into the pleasant yukata you sewed for him rather than his uncomfortable fatui attire. the scent of you still lingered in the cotton as he buries his nose into the material. scaramouche solemnly pulls away and looks around as if he just awoke from a bad dream.
"where are you... (y/n)?" kunikuzushi queries.
the skyline falls as i try to make sense of it all
kunikuzushi can hardly pay any attention to his fatui duties when he finally realizes your sudden disappearance from his life. you promised to stay by his side, and that you did, but where were you now? maybe you went down to the city and he simply didn't notice. although, your trips don't usually take this long.
kunikuzushi is aware he doesn't have a heart, so why, why is there an inexplicable pain in his chest where it's supposed to be? it hurts, he cries to himself at night as he recalls all of the innocent lives he took, their blood in his hands as he kept it to himself. a poor excuse for a God in the making...
he felt so useless and lost. how much time has past? for how long were you already gone? did you leave of your own accord? did someone else take you away? questions plagued his mind as he could hardly rest with such thoughts.
i thought i'd uncovered your secrets but, turns out, there's more
as time passes, he grows a temper that would make anyone turn the other way the moment they saw him. scaramouche is filled with nothing but loathe for this wretched teyvat he roams and the heavenly celestia that watches upon him. why did they take you of all people? what made you leave?
these are the type of things that he's thinking the second he sees you after lesser lord kusanali takes the gnosis away from him. he can't tell whether it's real, and in this case, it probably isn't. but he hasn't seen you in so long, he doesn't care if it's short lived. scaramouche allows himself to sink into your embrace, unknowing of the fact that he's falling to the ground after the wires of the machine detached from him.
"it hurts, (y/n). i don't want to be here anymore," he cries into the crook of your neck as you hush him, your fingers brushing through his hair. "you're the strongest i've come to known, my kunikuzushi. continue what you began for me. i'll be waiting for you."
a kiss is planted against his forehead and he awakes from his slumber.
you adored me before, oh my good looking boy.
in a frightened state, the wanderer looks left and right, searching for your whereabouts. it doesn't take him very long to find you, for you're sound asleep next to him. he slowly gulps and his hand hovers over your face in hesitation. dear teyvat and celestia above, can something go right for once? just this once, as he's suffered for so many years and he doesn't wish for it to continue.
your eyelids flutter open and he quickly retracts his hand. you look at him and your lips form a smile. the smile he came to love and missed for the longest time. then, you part your beautiful lips to speak, and your voice is as soft and gentle as ever. "what are you doing up so late, dear? you and the traveler have a busy day tomorrow, don't you?"
you ask as you gather all of your strength to sit up, still half-asleep. he struggles to release a sentence from his mouth, even a word would do good, but he just couldn't. his lips are agape as he marvels at your presence. you sleepily giggle, "oh, love. you can't keep slacking off, you know that, right? the traveler's little fairy... thing, paimon, is constantly talking about how you seem so lost in your thoughts all of the time."
"i..." a word. he finally speaks. "can i..." all of a sudden, tears begin to stream down his face and you're taken aback. "k-kunikuzushi, are you alright?" you question him in a panicking state as you're fully awake, sitting on your knees to examine his face. he takes it upon himself to hide his face in the crook of your neck, his arms slithering around your torso as he clings to you for dear life. his hands are clutching at you as if you were to disappear at any given moment, but it never happens.
the one and only time, can he feel relieved. his muscles aren't as strained anymore as he allows his frail body to make your embrace its home. you pause, your movements at a stop as your body is tense, but you rest your hand in his hair. "can i stay here? i don't feel like helping the traveler with whatever tomorrow..." he mumbles, hoping you'd say yes, at the very least. a chuckle escapes your lips.
"of course, love. we need more time alone, don't we? but for now, let's rest together." you pull away as he does and you slot your lips into his. he eagerly indulges in the kiss and his chest, though heartless, comes to be filled with a happy warmth that can cause a grin to break out onto his features. "rest with you... i need that, more than ever."
© scaralvr.
#(⌒▽⌒)☆ : myst's library !!#gender neutral reader#genshin impact#genshin#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x reader#genshin imagines#genshin imagine#genshin fanfic#genshin fanfics#genshin fanfiction#genshin fanfictions#scaramouche#genshin fluff#scaramouche fluff#scaramouche angst#genshin angst#scaramouche fanfiction#scaramouche fanfic
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Casual
Kabru x reader (gender neutral)
It’s hard being casual when you always find ways to litter little parts of you in my life
Warning: explicit
Unison gasp exhaled from both your lungs, it felt like your chest could be crushed by the tension alone. You could get off with the way he held your you by the back of your neck, it felt as if your body could burn away by his touch and he of course was well aware of this. You only wished Kabru’s piercing eyes wasn’t so fixated on you the whole damn time you’re trying to undress him.
You hate to admit that it made you a little nervous. You knew that he was taking your every little reaction into account. It made you feel somehow vulnerable.
“I told you not to psychoanalize me while im trying to fuck you, Kabru”
You were expecting a heavy teasing coming your way, he knew you were into his dirty talk, so he tends to be vocal during your intercourse, it was more weird to not hear him say anything.
“My bad” he quickly said, caressing your cheek ever so softly, before slowly dragging your hand to the button of his pants “continue”
He hides away using your crave for physical affection to his advantage. You would’ve probably skimmed through it if it wasn’t from how distant he seemed. He was trying to hide something. It wasn’t evident whatsoever.. but you could tell like he does with you that he wasn’t really into it this time.
Despite Kabru’s efforts, you retracted your hand before placing a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“Maybe not tonight Kabru, i don’t want to soil your clean sheets just yet”
the disappointment was evident in his eyes, but it wasn’t out of a want for intimacy on his part. It was for the fact that he failed to deceive you, he failed to control the situation, he miscalculated on the outcomes of your behavior. But most of all, he failed to please you.
You saw right through him. And it scares him.
“I’ll make us dinner, i was thinking steak tonight.” You finally broke the silence, distracting Kabru from his thoughts
“Feeling fancy are we?” He rested his head in the palm of his hand as he watched you get dressed. You hummed in respons giving him a wink.
As soon as you buttoned up your blouse, you waltz your way to his kitchen, which wasn’t far away considering he was staying in a cramp inn.
“You’re getting skinny, i need to feed you well” you had said as the sound of you preparing food filled his ears.
He layed there, still shirtless, the scent of his freshly washed sheets filled his nose while the contact of the fabric ignited multiple indecent memories of you and him. He gets addicted to the feeling of your skin pressing on his but he wouldn’t say it was all physical…. At least on his part.
He reminisced upon your words just a few weeks ago in the tavern as he watched you cooked. He wondered if the weight of this relationship was equally heavy to you as it was to him, knowing well the scales were imbalanced.
“It’s casual” you had said to your friend, a pen pal that he had never met, who previously asked you about ‘that guy you were seeing’.
Your words felt like a pang to his head. Casual? Well of course it was.. It’s not like you two outright agreed to a commitment filled relationship.. but it’s natural to think you’ve begone to care for him by the amount of time you spent together. Was he really getting the wrong idea?..
“It’s not like this is going anywhere anyways” you said before continuing to drink your beer as your friend laughs
At that moment he could vividly imagine the scales were tipping down on him and lifting you up.
It bothered him that you think so little of him. But it bothered him more that HE was bothered. Just why the hell was he so mad? He internally screamed thinking of the implications, burying his face to his pillow. You didn’t pay any mind to his frustration, too busy simmering down the two steaks on his stove.
“Dinner’s ready!” you voiced plating two steaks across each other on his dinner table, even lighting up a candle for him.
As he sat himself watching the steam off the freshly cooked steak, and practically homemade fancy date was that he wondered…. Was this casual?
The thought to strangle you cross his mind. Why would you even go to this lengths just to fuck him on the weekends? Was he really just some guy you seek just for a quick sex? His curiosity burned him like an unending itch that he couldn’t scratch.
“Easy there”
You wiped off a smudge of sauce from the corner of his lips. If he wasn’t chewing so menacingly maybe he wouldn’t be so messy
“Thanks” he said shortly. He wasn’t even hiding his irritation, purposely clanking his cutlery.
“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I can tell you’ve been mad at me”
Kabru’s blue eyes looked at you piercing through your soul. That was probably the first time you ever said something direct to him, it felt breathtaking and frustrating at the same time because he could tell that your words were completely empty.
He wanted to say that you tidying his room for him every chance you get was far from casual. Bathing him that one night because he puked all over himself after being intoxicated wasn’t casual. The way you would cook for him every time you come over wasn’t something casual. Your stuff littering his closet wasn’t casual.
But he couldn’t. Because if he were to yell all those things to you and finally hammering some sense into you would mean he had to say that he wanted to be more than casual. He would have to admit that he genuinely enjoy your company. He had to be honest. And he might actually have to kill you if he ever does that
“Haha! You’re overthinking.. Maybe you’re tired. What about staying the night?”
“I was planning to anyways” you said, talking to Kabru always felt like you were planning a war strategy in your every move. Walking on eggshells would be an understatement knowing his analyzing skills. So it’s better not to press him.
The rest of dinner wasn’t quiet, though maybe you would’ve preferred that hearing his subtle questions to get you to spill your whole backstory once again. Your head hurts from dodging all his questions from shifting the conversations and giving lame excuses. You were more than relieved to go to bed.
“How’s your party? Those guys doing okay?” you asked, a lousy attempt on small talk on your part, recalling a hazy memory of you socializing with Kabru’s party at the tavern
It’s hard being casual when he had introduced you to all his friends
You snuggled close to him, his arms carefully embracing you. It felt natural. Like you and him were meant to be. He could imagine holding you in his arms every night in the future and he hates himself for it. He never knew meeting someone exactly like him would be both a bliss and hell at the same time. It was truly tiring to be at war in every conversation with you, but usually he doesn’t have to think much of it from how busy he was fucking your brains out
“Everyone’s doing alright.. we might go back to explore the dungeon in 2 days” Answered Kabru, you could feel his fingers playing with your hair absentmindedly
“Don’t forget to eat yeah? You always get so skinny after your adventures” he hates how you worry over him. And he hates how he liked it.
He asked to himself looking down to your now sleeping form. Your legs tangled beneath the his sheets, the one that you washed for him, he held you closer as he could feel your breathing fanning down his neck. Does this truly mean nothing to you?
Despite his inner turmoils, he held his tongue. He couldn’t let go.. just not yet.
Because only in these moments was where Kabru could pretend that you two were lovers holding each other throughout the night. At least he could have you in another way other than sexual in these moments.
The night went by faster than he initially thought and by morning, you were gone… as always.
Kabru looked around at the washed dishes, the clean floors of his inn, his neatly folded clothes, his organized closet… his place had never looked cleaner. Yet he was never more a mess. It was as if you had came to his life just to fuck with him both physically and mentally. May the gods gave him strength cause he might not have the self respect to not indulge you in your next visit.
But Kabru sucked it up and dragged himself to the market for supplies of the next dungeon raid. Rin and holm had been waiting not so patiently for him, scolding Kabru for sleeping in again.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been with that merchant again, you look a mess.” Rin says, her gaze scanned Kabru’s disheveled appearance up and down.
Despite his residence always being a mess, Kabru usually upheld a kept appearance. It helps him with gaining trust and connection from other people thus making it easy for him to gain information. Though this wouldn’t be the case after a night with a certain travelling merchant, you.
“You don’t need to worry about that, Rin” said Kabru as he smiled charmingly “i just accidentally slept in a little”
Before Rin could scold Kabru more, Holm stood between the two of them.
“It’s best if we start the shopping” he quickly intervenes . As Rin walks away Holm gave Kabru a comforting look
“It’s okay, just don’t be late next time” said the gnome, as he pats Kabru’s back gently.
And with that Holm catched up to Rin discussing what perservatives would be best to bring tomorrow. Kabru tailed right behind them as they talked. Least to say he was out of it.. occasionally giving feed backs here and there about the length of the trip or expenses, but other than that he was a little quiet. Not as quiet for them to notice at least.
It’s not like Kabru wasn’t a genuine person. He has good intentions and he truly is kind. But he was always great at masking. To hide his true emotions wasn’t something that he hadn’t mastered. But it all seems to get thrown out the window once he’s with you. It’s like you could see right through him as much as he could you and he could tell it terrifies you as much as it did him.
Two sides of the same coin was what you are. He never thought he wanted to be understood until he met you.
“Hey, isn’t that the person Kabru was seeing?” Holm voiced, despite Rin’s protest in trying to hide your whereabouts.
Kabru’s eyes suddenly drift to a small alleyway. You were talking to someone, that pen pal again that you were talking to a few weeks ago.
“You’re actually crazy” your friend laughed as if you had just told him something funny. And Kabru couldn’t help but eavesdrop your conversation.
“You know i can’t miss this opportunity.. this is a once in a lifetime!!”
Kabru pretended as if he were browsing the fruits nearby as he hears you talk, your excitement and fear basically pouring out of your words.
“How long before you leave?”
Kabru froze hearing your friend’s words, almost tipping over the basket in his hand. You’re…leaving?? For how long?
“Maybe in 2 days, i bet you’re going to miss me to bits.” You teased.
“Whatever, you’re the one who’s leaving everything behind anyways”
You weren’t coming back anytime soon. It was evident in your friend’s sudden serious tone. This whole conversation was a whole farewell. Kabru only wished that he could be half as accepting as your friend.
He stood there, ignoring Rin’s harsh stare knowing he was wasting their precious time idling by the fruit stall.
Because before your friend had continue to go on a rant on how you owe them a trip to the tavern you had said something so downright lonely he couldn’t shake his mind on the words you had let out.
“There’s barely anything for me here anyways”
What about him? He wanted to ask.
He was mad at himself for thinking such things.. it’s not like he alone was enough to make you stay. But mostly he was mad at you.
“Kabru!?” Your eyes widen upon seeing him, it doesn’t seem like he wasn’t standing there the whole time. You noticed him at the corner of your eyes as soon as your friend left. Holm and Rin thankfully reading the situation and continued their shopping, not wanting to get in on their party leader’s personal affairs.
Kabru walked calmly approaching you, honestly scaring you.
“So.. you heard everything..” you sheepishly asked.
“I’ve heard enough”
And of course you were off to a great start.
“I see..” you trailed off. Again, it was as if you were walking on eggshells around him. “maybe it’s for the best. I wouldn’t know how to tell you anyways”
“Just… tell me why are you doing all this..” Kabru’s voice sounded more desperate than he initially intended, it made you wonder what’s inside his mind.
It’s not like he ever escapes your mind anyways.
“A commissioner from the east asked me formally to be part of their trading association, it doesn’t get better than that now does it?”
“What about your job, you’re just going to throw that away?” Kabru’s words was starting to annoy you, and even he could tell that he has passed the thin line between being worried and nagging.
“Well my friend from earlier was happy to take over”
Kabru notices how you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, he needed to calm down.
“Then what about your friends… your family??”
His more careful words just tick you off even more. You hate how he always hides his intention as talks to you. He dances between wanting to please you and dissect you. It’s especially frustrating now that you’re leaving and you can’t figure out what he was trying to say.
“Can you get off my ass? I know what i’m doing. And my friends and family couldn’t be more happy for me so why can’t you??” You spat, turning away from him, frustrated beyond all else.
“Because i want you to stay goddamnit!”
You turned back faster than you turned around. His eyes were widen, mirroring yours as his hand find its way to cover his mouth, in disbelief of what he just said. It was basically a confession and he couldn’t deny it now.
His mouth open to correct himself, but the growing smile out of the corner of your lips made him swallow his words. Every trials that he thought to try and save himself was lost to the sound fastening beat of his heart.
“Kabru… do you really think that way of m- OW-“
He didn’t know what to do, so he just blanked and punched you in the face
“What the fuck was that for?!?”
You whined as you held him by the wrist, ignoring the growing bruise on your cheek, afraid he might just land you another blow to the face. Though what he said before was probably more shocking than any punch he could land you.
You let go after a few minutes of Kabru begrudgingly saying how he won’t punch you in the face again, you didn’t trust him but it’s better than the other threats he gave you if you don’t let go.
Despite that he had bought you an enchanted ice that was supposed to last longer, said the merchant. He did so that he could apply it on your bruise feeling A LITTLE apologetic for what he did. You find his scowl and how he tries to avoid your gaze quiet adorable despite the situation.
You try calm him down dragging his hand to the beach as a last effort ditch to try and lighten the situation. Perhaps a scenic location would cheer him up?
He sat next to you as he silently held the ice to your bruise for you. You still can’t quite piece together why he punched you in the face but you’ve had more violent sexual intercourse with him that makes it seem tame.
“About earlier..” you hesitantly started, finally breaking the silence. “did you… really mean it?”
You asked, he can’t believe how incredibly fragile your tone of voice was. It was as if you could break any second.
Though Kabru would gladly pick up your pieces and put you back together.
“Yes” he coughed, trying to brush his embarrassment off.
You could only laugh seeing his reaction. You didn’t know what else to do but laugh really…
Everything just seems unreal. The sun setting to a beautiful orange hue, the calm waves of the sea, the soft blow of the wind… but mostly.. it was him. everything felt too perfect that you were afraid you might ruin it. But despite that you couldn’t help but want to connect with him than ever. After denying everything for so long.. is it so bad for you to speak your heart?
“It’s funny how out of everyone in my life, i only waited to hear that from you” you confessed.
Is it casual now? Kabru asked to himself. When you only wanted to stay if he asks you to. He doesn’t want to wonder what it means anymore. He’s done playing guessing games, even if it cost him, to spill his guts out.
“Just please tell me what you’re trying to say..” he asked more desperately he ever had before. you could basically see hope all over his face.
You choked feeling the warmth collecting on your cheeks on the possibility of Kabru actually returning your feelings, it baffles you really that someone as breathtaking as him him could ever want you, let alone harbor feelings for you, making you deny any accusations or any of your friends’ remarks. It was never going to happen.. there was just no way.
Yet the way he held your hand now could prove you a thousand times wrong. Maybe you were always wrong..
“I’m saying that i love you, Kabru”
(A/N: maybe it would’ve made more sense if i split this into a two part but like i spent too much time on this already so might as well 😂😂😂 anyways i listened to casual more times than i needed when i wrote this. Love Chappell roan fr)
#Spotify#gender neutral reader#kabru of utaya#kabru#dungeon meshi x reader#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#kabru dungeon meshi#kabru x reader#rin dungeon meshi#holm dungeon meshi#chappell roan#kabru dunmeshi#kabru delicious in dungeon
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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | What was supposed to be a summer vacation to your boyfriend's hometown, turned into God's greatest test of morality against you. In other words, you basically fuck your boyfriend's best friend, Eddie Munson.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, mention of alcohol, drug use, jealousy, possessiveness, small violence, a threat of murder (little yandere, but not really-ish, I don't know, to be honest), slightly dark (I think, right? Maybe?) cheating, and explicit sexual content: fondling, spitting, dom/sub dynamic, name calling, degradation/praise kink, finger sucking, nipple play, face slapping, pussy slapping, masturbation (male), fingering, handjob, cum eating, squirting, and unprotected vaginal sex.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I... don't know what this is. Just take, goddamn it, there, take me for all I'm worth! Do I condone cheating? No. But did this idea make me really horny? Yes. And he's a little mean, so be warned.
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
Sometimes… you wished he’d never spoken those words.
When two weeks into his summer vacation in Hawkins, Indiana was enough time spent away from the debilitating semesters of university to have his newfound room—proffered by the closest of a distant family member, because two months with the folks would just be too much—smelling of the fresh cologne of clean air and washed linen; the smell that warmed you with the loving memories of ten months of sweet kisses and heavenly whispers.
When his navy blue comforter wrinkled under the weight of tussling bodies, because in those mere two weeks—his half in Hawkins, yours in Indianapolis—both hearts ached for the touch of one another, and he refused to deprive himself from the physical contact of his love, you. Crushing kisses, trailing hands, and connecting bodies to commemorate the rising sun, because a town miles away from the bustling city of beeping traffic and screaming pedestrians left room for the morning songs of the Northern Cardinal.
When the exhaustion of a two hour journey through cornfields and even smaller towns guided you to the place where he relished you in the memories of his boyhood; swing sets on the playground, the arcade after homework, Tuesday performances at the Hideout. Such memories came to life for you when the aluminum stock sign welcomed you into Hawkins. Sore from stiffness, your limbs crashed into the embrace of your lover, where your first night in the cursed town consisted of fucking the Friday night darkness away, until bodies glowed under the welcoming sun of the Saturday morning, where dewy grass freshened the air in contrast to the concrete slabs of cracked busy sidewalks you grew up on.
But then… he spoke those words.
When a stroking thumb against the hairs of your brow elicited the tired whine from your mouth, as you nuzzled your face into his naked chest to shield you from the burning sunshine pouring from the basement window. Your eyes woke to his dozy lips, chapped with pinched corners to show off the crookedness of his teeth that brought such beautiful character to his soul. Puffs of morning breath warmed your somnolent face with his morning greeting.
“I know I’ve told you this like a million times,” he croaked, “but I really am so happy that you’re here. With me.” His heavy hand landed on the apple of cheek to encourage your growing smile. “Can’t wait to show you around, can’t wait for you to meet my friends- the guys.”
Now, a new cologne of ashy darkwood and burning spices tarnished the content bubble of ten months of sweet kisses and heavenly whispers with groping handfuls and filthy intimacy. An anxious pit of guilty dread now eats you alive when the musk of his igniting cigarettes invades your being, but how can you think of such worrisome, when it’s the same scent that has your face torching with flames of desire and heart fluttering with anticipation for a new love- a different kind of love?
Other times… you are happy that he spoke those words.
Because it led you to Eddie Munson.
-
Her diamond scintillated, shoved in your face by her persistent eagerness to show off the glowing ring that beamed under strobe lights of greens and reds that twirled from the tiny disco ball. Eric Marcher, who couldn’t give you anything more than a nod of acknowledgement when introduced—despite his intimate hand clasp and hug combo with your boyfriend, had been detailed to you as the man needed when small town goers were itching for party favors. Now, in the cul-de-sac of Mirkwood, a lively get-together of strangers, like Cheryl “soon-to-be-Levison” Daniels, bombarded you with the overwhelming hospitality of detailing their personal life to the woman who snagged Braun Peterson.
A large smile matched that of her ring, beaming with a boastfulness of pride for fulfilling that suburban wife “dream” role, but you couldn’t blame her. A fat rock rested upon her finger to symbolize her everlasting love with her partner? Hell, you’d shove it in other people’s faces, as well. “It belonged to Nana Leslie before Oliver got it with her blessing. See, my daddy was never able to give it to my momma, because well, Nana never liked her,” you met her seven minutes ago, “but, anyways, it’s been in the family for two generations, and now it’s mine!”
“Oh, wow.” You liked her and her family drama. Your hands maneuvered to twist her finger, watching how beautifully the jewelry captured the light.
“I mean, it was kinda rash, ya’know, with the war and whatnot.” Her Midwestern accent sang. “Oliver wanted to tie the knot before his deployment, but I was not about to do it in City Hall. Though, he did promise me a big wedding when he comes back from Iraq.” She longingly sighed, as you nodded along. “Ya’know, something that doesn’t involve a smelly courthouse. “What about you?”
You chuckled. “What about me?”
“Have you and Braun discussed when you’d be getting married?”
You nearly choked on your drink despite not even having one. “Oh.” Quite the response to offer. “We’re, um, not exactly there yet. I mean, we haven’t even been dating for a year.” You awkwardly laughed.
“Well, you don’t wanna wait too long!” Cheryl huffed out an airy laugh. “It’s like, when ya’know you know, ya’know?” Her attempt to philosophize the concept of love left your head nodding along to move the conversation, but Cheryl “soon-to-be-Levison” Daniels surely had to knack to keep talking. “And don’t you know?”
Do you know? “Um-”
“Would you quit harassing my girlfriend?” A familiar hand squeezed your shoulder, before the presence of Braun Peterson came from behind the couch, where he bent down to smile at you.
“I am not harassing your girlfriend.” Cheryl scoffed. “And come on, I’ve been your best friend since we were babies! I know you! And I know you always talked about getting married!” She sternly punctuated. “I mean, it’s literally what made you cuter than the rest of the boys on the playground.”
Braun derided. “Okay, first of all, we were never best friends, I just had to endure being in the same grade as you.” You both chuckled, as Cheryl dramatically gasped. “And secondly, in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m not a seven-year-old that’s desperate to propose to any girl who was willing to push me on the swingset.”
“Oh!” You piqued his interest. “I happen to be a great companion on the swingset, I’d love to join you.” You sweetly beamed, an endearing feature that had him devastatingly blushing with love.
“Yeah?” He whispered in your face, where you met his question with a nod, reeling him in for a kiss.
“Ugh, see!” Cheryl’s voice had you separating with a hot face. “Marriage material! At least a proposal by the first year mark.” Her brows teased, forcing him to laugh in disbelief.
But Braun Peterson smiled, nonetheless, and your throat had constricted. While the idea of marrying your first serious boyfriend wasn’t the most unsettling notion, the reality of it coming faster than anticipated from the opinions of those closest to him, who unfortunately were raised in the small town mindset of a white picket fence before the age of twenty-five, had your tummy swirling with queasiness. Freshly out of university, the last thing you needed was a ring waying you down by a man whose loud chewing you were still trying to adjust to. A proposal in two months was not in schedule.
Because dinner was on Saturday. Meeting the parents was next Wednesday. Niece’s birthday party in two weeks. At least three years of dating before moving in. The fourth year, an engagement. The fifth, a wedding. Children? Somewhere long after.
Strict? Maybe. But perfect in your mind of precision? Absolutely.
“Um, could you get me something to drink?” You interrupted the possibility of any more talks of the future. “I just have to, uh, run to the bathroom real quick.”
His hand rubbed down your back so perfectly, calming the nerves that festered in your stomach. “Absolutely.” He assured you, as always. “I’ll find us something to eat, too, baby.”
So perfect, so perfect.
Your legs had guided you away from the living room before you could muster a brief goodbye. Maneuvering around shifting bodies, you found yourself counting the steps of the staircase, feeling the utter disappointment when the last steps came out in odd numbers, but the bathroom was two doors down, and the last thing you needed was to obtain tunnel vision from the minor details that didn’t fit your standards of life.
A knock to the wooden door with a silent response lifted the weight off your shoulders, permitting you to open the door and finally receive some peace. But the breath that nested in your throat lost its chance to be of relief, when a presence carried over from behind you, shoving you into the bathroom, with a determined slam to the door.
A rough hand muffled any of your attempts to yell out, but your stiffened body had luckily learned to vaguely relax when the man behind you turned you against the bathroom counter, and you came face-to-face with someone who familiarly made your body shudder under his stare.
His hands moved to grip the porcelain of the sink on either sides of you. “Eddie…” You gulped, as your chest heaved. “God, y-you scared, um, I- is s-something wrong?”
“You’re making quite the impression out there, aren’t ya?” His lip barely curled into a smile, as he stared down at you. “Everyone just fucking loves you, don’t they?”
You refused to meet his eye, trying to move from the caging of his arms, but his persistence left you trapped. “Um,” you sighed, “y-yeah, all your friends are nice-”
“Oh, no, sweetheart, they aren’t my friends.” He spoke so dauntingly. “They’re your boyfriend’s friends, remember? Your boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “um, I should go, Eddie. I need to leave.”
“No, you fucking don’t.” He deeply chuckled, finding amusement in the panicked look of your face. “You just got here.”
“Look, Eddie, I don’t know what you’re trying to do-”
“Me?” He scoffed. “I’m not tryna do anything, you’re the one that fucking started it.” His forehead forcefully pressed against yours, shoving your head back so you’d finally look him in the eye. “Remember?” He tauntingly cooed at you, getting in your face. “Remember you being a slut, and startin’ it? Because I sure fucking do.” He spat. “So don’t ask me what the fuck I’m doing, when you started it.”
Your breath heavied, as his nose ran against yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut to wield the strength to compose your anger, a hatred solely targeted to yourself. You were certain Eddie was feeding off of the visceral pounding of your heartbeat, getting off on the sheer panic of your being.
And you hated yourself for loving it.
“N-Not here.” You thickly swallowed. “Please.” Such a desperate plea, and it had him laughing in your face.
“‘Not here?’” He mocked. “I think I can have you wherever I want, no? It’s sure as hell not like you’re gonna stop me, pretty girl.” A soft kiss planted on your cheek had your eyes opening. “God, you really are so pretty, y’know that, baby? Do you know just how pretty you are?”
“Eddie…” His eyes bored into yours, piercing your desire with a burning itch that had you intoxicated on his strong scent. You watched a smirk etch onto his face, as he watched you follow the outline of his plump lips. Do it. Do it. Do it. You were screaming at yourself to just give in. Thighs clenching, heart racing, mouth salivating for the man that enticed you like no other. Your breath shuddered, as your shaky fingers delicately placed themselves against his shaven face.
Just a taste. Just a little.
You reached onto your tippy toes to feel the soft skin of his lips gently brush against yours. You were dictating this. He was letting you dictate this. Because when it all crashed, you started it, you’d be to blame. All it took was the shy kiss fueled by your hesitancy for Eddie Munson to consume what he wanted, and his tongue shoved past your teeth to ravage your taste. He had you gasping against his lips, nothing touching you but his mouth, but it felt like he was pinning you against your will.
Eddie’s knuckles blurred white from the tightening grip you had him enduring, because frustration coursed through his body, as he fought the restraints keeping him from just giving in and fucking you against the bathroom sink. A guttural growl lurched from his chest, “What are you doin’?” He smashed his lips against you. “I didn’t ask you to kiss me.” He sneered.
His comment forced a lump to be caught in your throat, urging you to push away from his chasing lips. “N-No…” Another breathless kiss smeared against you. “Stop, Eddie, we can’t-”
“Shut your fucking mouth.” He interrupted with his tongue injected into your mouth. “Remember you wanted this.”
You were awful. “No!” You whined, unwilling to face the reality of your cruelness.
“Oh, but, yes, baby.” He humiliated you with his mocking tone. “Yes, remember?” He whispered into your make out. “It was you, you fucking looked at me.” Eddie scorned. “How fucking stupid are you to think I wouldn’t do somethin’ about you lookin’ at me, huh? You remember lookin’ at me?” His kisses were becoming more aggressive. “You fucking looked at me, sweetheart!” You felt the air in your lungs burn from his resistance to letting you breathe. “What the fuck do you expect me to do when you were fucking lookin’ at me like that, huh?!”
And you had been looking at him…
-
Three days ago, the Hideout had been an unfamiliar experience to you on the night of May 30th. It became evident as such when Mary Jane platform pumps rather distastefully met the abhorrent crunch of breaking asphalt from the gravel parking lot, where beat up cars and pick-up trucks haphazardly parked themselves with no formation, clearly lacking the etiquette for what was promised to you as a “nice” establishment. A wave of regret had drowned you in despair as you walked out of your car, immediately being met with the obscene noises coming from a drunken man nearly hacking a lung out, only to shoot his spit and mucus onto the dead bushes that once decorated the place wonderfully in the 60s. You begrudgingly passed the neglected entrance; its doors open for the sleazy, middle-aged men of Hawkins, Indiana to make themselves right at home, as they littered themselves amongst the breadth of the property, sparsely filling up tables and stools with cold beers to accompany them. A gasp of disgust had petered out of your lips, when each step you took sticky film residing on the weathered wood of the floor clung to the outsoles of your beloved heels, coating them with decades of syrupy beer that had found solace within the bar from the happy accidents that tailored the feng shui of the Hideout.
You were appalled.
It was beyond the definitions of obvious that you had overly dressed yourself for the occasion. It was at this moment, you were mentally curing Braun Peterson for providing the wrong impression, completely overselling the bar he once played in, and disregarding the lack of formality that came with the building and its loyal customers.
“Babe, it’s got a decked out bar, you can order whatever you like, trust me, my boy Johnny will whip it up, and it’s got plenty of tables for you to sit your pretty self down and enjoy the show. Not to mention, the nicest stage where you can watch me perform. It’s gonna be great, I promise!”
With a rush of worriment devouring you, you insecurely hugged your bare arms over yourself in an attempt to shield yourself from the preying eyes of unabashed stares coming from bulky men, old enough to be your father, who proclaimed themselves as regulars and patently peering to you as new meat.
Endeavoring the will to appear not so lost and clueless, you walked with your head held high, a fabricated facade of confidence, and you took refuge onto the high top table that accommodated two uncomfortable stools that shared the same layer of dust as the plastic faux wood of the table.
Yeah, you were definitely going to have it out with Braun Peterson.
Your body felt rigid, guarding yourself from potentially coming in contact with anything biohazardous, while also feeling so small from the persistent scary stares that you felt so strongly were examining your body as if you had no autonomy. And maybe you were being a bit pretentious at this moment, but given the overflow of staggering malaise that was consuming your being and clearly placing you into an uncomfortable environment, there was an absolute negative chance of actually enjoying the night, especially after you were going to dish one out to Braun.
Speaking of which, you caught sight of the slick-back, blond hair that was pursuing your way from a slim hallway that catered to the southend of the building, which presumably led backstage. “Hey, you made it!” Incompetent to your unease, Braun had merely stepped up and shoved you into a tight hug, a kiss swiftly placed onto your lips with a smacking mwah.
While he spoke so highly, clearly excited for his performance, you couldn’t fathom reciprocating his energy, immediately stating your concerns with a whine into his embrace. “What is literally wrong with you?”
Judging by your tone, anyone could have discerned the genuine disturbance from being in such situation, but ever the comedian, Braun merely chuckled. “That could be an hour long discussion, babe.” Your eyes flashed with disbelief at his choice to dismiss your evident worries.
You sighed, resisting the urge to not scream in public to cater to his comfort. “No, Braun, I’m serious. Why didn’t you tell me what kind of bar this was?” You pleaded, hoping he’d acknowledge your troubles rather than brushing them off. That was one thing you had quickly discovered from the months of making it official with Braun Peterson; he had quite the sense of humor, which wasn’t at all particularly harmful, but this “sense of humor” had a funny way of not knowing when to draw the line. The line always seemingly crossing your boundaries. But god forbid you spoke out. Last time you did, his roommate Josh asked you to quit being uptight on Braun’s behalf. “I look like I’m dining at a Michelin Star restaurant, not grabbing drinks at some middle-of-nowhere bar. Why didn’t you specify?”
You really didn’t want to cause such a confrontation on his first night back performing at the place in which he claimed was “the start of everything” for him but, my god, you were seething with irritation.
“Shit,” he huffed, understanding your worries once he took a glimpse of the perverted looks the attendees were more than glad to show off. “Look, babe, I seriously didn’t mean for this to happen-”
“You said this place was nice, Braun.”
“I know, I- I just knew you wouldn’t be into these kinda bars, but I really wanted you to come see me tonight.” He sighed. “I swear, baby,” he secured your shoulders into his hand, “I just wanted you to be here with me, b-but I screwed up. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
You heaved in defeat, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. He hadn’t been far off with his assumption; twenty-three years of a city setting in the upper east side, where renovated brownstones of contemporary decor were more of your liking rather than the casualness of a lonesome bar.
Your lips jutted with a mumbled “it’s okay” to pass the tension. But Braun’s hands had worked their way to the fullness of your cheeks, where his thumbs delicately swept under your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.” He poured his eyes into yours. “I know it’s not your scene, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, baby.” Braun leaned in to press his lips to yours, and that loving comfort was enough to ease your body into relaxation against his hold. His hands released for the brief seconds it took to take off his leather jacket and hang it over your shoulders. “Keep this on, and if anyone bothers you or-or does something, please just tell me.” He implored. “I’ll be right on stage, only a couple feet away, I’ll see you, okay?”
Huffing a sigh, you simply nodded, choosing to come to a consensus of trying to enjoy the night. It had been close to reaching a year that you agreed to be Braun’s girlfriend, and from then, he’d been dying to show you everything about himself. Following the end of the school year from university, Braun had made plans to spend the summer back in his hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, where he had adamantly informed you about the band, the one in which he partook throughout his high school career, Corroded Coffin. And there was no denying it, the bubbling feelings of a blossoming relationship, one where your boyfriend had an actual desire to share the intimate parts of his life with, like seeing where he grew up, made you burst with excitement.
Because even with his flaws, Braun Peterson had a gentle touch that filled your heart with a promising future of blissful contentment.
“I won’t leave you out here,” his hand found its way to your thigh, “afterwards, I’ll have drinks brought backstage, where me, you, and the guys can just relax in peace. Away from these creeps.” He gripped with loving reassurance. “And- and, I promise you some of the most incredible food, okay?”
You snickered through your nose with a bit of suspicion. “From here?”
Braun laughed at your wariness. “From Benny’s Burger, got the best diner food for your pretty belly.” You arched your brow, pushing it until he gave in. “Okay, okay, Enzo’s. Seconds, thirds, all on me, baby, whatever you want.”
“Deal.” He sealed your agreement with a playful handshake.
He smiled at you, bringing a comforting hand to your neck. “Thank you, again, pretty.” His thumb caressed. “Just wanna share this experience with you. Wanna let you know how cool I was back in high school.” He teased, as you giggled. “Here, gimme kiss.”
Braun pulled you in for a sweet kiss, letting your worries wash away with his reassurement, because he always had you. “You’re gonna do great, I’m sure of it.” You smiled against him.
“Only ‘cause I have you here cheering me on.” Braun finished you off with one more kiss. “Remember, I’m only a couple feet away, I’ll come grab you once we’re done.”
With that, Braun Peterson left you to your own accord, securing the warm leather of his jacket around you, as you watched him disappear into the back. Disagreements and solutions. Compromises and sacrifices. This is what it meant for the man who cherished your time, and publicly showed it like no other. Everything was okay. Until the minutes passed of tugging on your lip with anticipation, and the staged lights dimmed.
Everything was okay.
But the center spotlight had rained against a figure, and you hadn’t even internalized the fact that a stranger physically made your body react with a gasp, as you merely took in the sight of him.
Him, who caressed his warlock, fingers teasing the strings, and lips kissing the mic with heavy pants of excitement. “Nice to see some familiar faces!” He grinned, scanning the all too familiar bar that let his amateur band of misfits play every Tuesday night; the regular bar goers seemingly flooding him with memories of his youth years. But then, his eyes landed on you. Front and center. “Even better to see some… new faces.” His lips curled into a menacing smirk, drinking up your stunning face.
Your heartbeat pummeled out of your chest, heat chewing at your cheeks, as his daunting figure had you shying away with a flush state, like you were a school girl receiving her first valentine, forcing you to wrap Braun’s jacket tighter around you.
Shit, Braun!
Quickly, your eyes diverted to the man you should have been gawking at, tuning his guitar before peering up with a smile that held all the good in the world, one he solely dedicated to you on a daily basis. You mustered a shy smile back, attempting to swallow the guilt. And this is where it should have ended. It’d be quite ignorant to dismiss the reality that attractive people come and go everyday during relationships, so this is all it was. You saw something pretty, you admired it, you left it. That’s what you promised. That’s what you committed. So you blinked yourself straight, and gave small claps of encouragement to your boyfriend.
But the eerie feedback from the mic had your head snapping to the front man, and as expected, his gaze hadn’t left your body once; a smirk devouring his face when your eyes caught his. That night, an alluring spark ignited within Eddie Munson, and he was determined to indulge in it.
“We’re gonna perform a couple songs for old times’ sake, bring some life back into you old fucks.” He jabbed comments eliciting some laughter from the crowd that watched these antsy boys torment their ears years before. “So just like back then, as always, I’m Eddie and we’re fucking Corroded Coffin!”
The thrash to his guitar introduced the blaring cords of a song, reminiscent to one Braun typically played for the background noise of when your naked bodies dreamily slapped together. The frontman’s stage performance flooded your senses as you became mesmerized by the fluid movement of his fingers abusing the delicate strings, and his husky voice yelling the lyrics to the abrasive song. He was encapsulating the beauty of metal with such ease and grace, playing his heart out for a dingy bar filled with good-for-nothing men. It felt so utterly undeserving. He was meant for a real stage.
Eddie.
That’s what it was. That’s all it fucking was. It had to be. You weren’t a bad person. You couldn’t be. The familiar tunes matching that of how Braun Peterson would rut his hips into yours was the sole reason for the tantalizing heat that was creeping within your body, not because of the man with the long hair who punctured his hungry glare against you, as he belted the grotesque lyrics of whatever song it was that you never cared to officially learn the title to. But how could you have ever found the will to learn, when Braun would consume your thoughts with the drilling of his cock to the beat of the song? Why couldn’t that be enough? Why had your hips subconsciously rolled to find some needed friction against your seat to the thought of Eddie burying his face between the warmth of your body?
Why did it feel like he was burning you alive?
The disgusting reality of your endeavor to get off on a dirty stool to another man had hit you like a ton of bricks, rightfully slapping you in the face with utter shame for who you were, and you didn’t dare to spare Eddie another glance; eyes fluttering around embarrassingly to look at anything other than Eddie.
Braun. Braun. Braun.
He was right there. He always had been.
The night dragged on for an unbearable hour, filled with the ongoing cycle of desiring something that wasn’t yours and the self-loathing hatred to follow. The burn of Eddie gaze had your body crippling with anxiety, and you engaged yourself to only peer at the man who’d brought you pure happiness for the last ten months of your life. But he was there; torturing you with his eyes that felt laser-cutting from a mile away, despite how adamant you forced yourself to refuse his attention.
You hadn’t even verbalized a word to him yet. And it was devastatingly pathetic how submissive he had you.
The last cord of the night strung out with the fellow patrons commemorating their boys for the nice trip down memory lane. You adjusted yourself to gently cheer along, feeling awful when Braun’s brightful smile had never once dropped because of your presence in the crowd. Just focus on him. It was all you had to do. As the men walked off with their equipment, Braun’s sweaty figure jumped from the stage, heading straight for you.
You immediately jumped from your seat, forgoing the complaints of him being sweaty to hold him in your arms with such fervency. “You did so great!” His hands held your back, delicate kisses pressing into the crook of your neck.
“Yeah?” He searched for your validation, only ever caring for your words, as he mumbled into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell that comforted the adrenaline high he was experiencing. “You, uh, you liked the first song I picked out?” His brows teased.
“Of course!” You cupped his face to bring him into a smearing kiss that he gladly reciprocated. You pulled away, staring into his soft eyes that held all innocence, and you cursed yourself for ever thinking of another man when such beauty was held in the palm of your hand. Your thumbs gently swept on the underside of his eyes, as he smiled down at you. “You were amazing, Braun.” You sincerely spoke. Overcompensating? Completely. But you needed him to be okay, and his happiness was worth it. “You always are so amazing, Braun.”
He brought you in for another embrace, and sealed it with a loving kiss that had you melting in his arms. “You’re pretty fucking amazing, too, Y/N.” He spoke. “C’mon, baby, let's go on back.”
“W-wait!” You steadied yourself within your position, holding his hand tightly. “Um, w-we can just stay out here, I’m sorry for getting mad earlier.”
His head dropped, lips jutting at you before he landed a quick kiss to your forehead. “Don’t apologize where you don’t need to apologize, baby.” He urged. “Don’t gotta make yourself uncomfortable for me- in fact, I won’t allow it. Not after dragging you here in the first place.”
“No, really it’s fine-”
“It’s not, baby, I don’t want you out here.” Braun persisted. “Plus, I’ve been talkin’ the guys’ ears off about you, I’m sure they’d love to put your pretty face to your name. Promise they’re not as scary as you think.”
What a fucking lie.
A journey to the back hallway led you to the chipped door, where Braun relinquished a double courtesy knock before entering the room, where a waft of sweat and cologne welcomed you to the small dressing room that held the members of Corroded Coffin. Shifting behind your boyfriend, your eyes landed around the burgundy painted walls, littered with posters of the previous self-made artist who first established themselves at the Hideout. Where they were now? More than likely not Hollywood, given the cheesy names teenagers thought were cool at the time.
“Hey, uh, guys, gained a new fan today, Y/N, this is Gareth, Jeff, and…” A polite smile to both identified men waving back to greet you was easy enough. “Where’s Ed?” Thank god.
Braun directed you to the couch, leather and torn, with its yellow foam of cushion peering from the tears after years of being broken in by body weight. “Talkin’ to Nicky out back by the stage.” Gareth had answered, as a hand towel harshly rubbed against his head to ease the dripping sweat from his frizzy curls.
“Nicky’s the bar owner.” Braun intimately informed you, graciously bringing you into the loop.
“You enjoy the show?” Jeff, with a genuine attempt at conversation, had gestured for you to engage in. Perhaps it was the blatant stiffness of your body from the wariness of sitting on the couch that surely soaked copious amounts of bodily fluids than you’d like to imagine, that got him to ask for your honest opinion. Or, the other obvious, that you clearly dress far from the usual scene that was typical for a Corroded Coffin performance at the Hideout.
Trying to atone your ignorance to the metal scene, and whatever the hell tension that was between you and the frontman, your head awkwardly nodded in response. “Yeah, um, yeah, I did.” Braun’s reassuring hand landed on your knee. “I’m still getting used to our difference in music taste,” luckily that was receptive to a couple chuckles, “but it was great seeing him, a-and you guys out there, as well.”
Heavy footsteps from the stage announced themselves as they entered the dressing room, and your body hardened at the mere sight of his shining chest, coated in his perspiration, drenching the line of hairs of his abdomen to seep into the low hanging waistline of his pants. Your eyes snapped to the wooden floors, as Braun jumped to give a brief greeting to his friend who ultimately settled against the water dispenser right in front of you.
“Ah, now that you’re all here, babe, this is Eddie; Ed, this is girlfriend, Y/N.” Already accustomed to your presence, Gareth and Jeff felt no need to weigh in another hello, which resulted in an unfortunate silence, after Eddie, himself, decided staring at you was the only formal approach.
But it wasn’t until his intentionally loud, “huh,” that pierced the silent, did your stomach drop with fear. “This is your girlfriend?” Your eyes stung at the inevitable occurrence of your boyfriend’s friend outing you in front of everyone as the girl who just couldn’t keep her eyes to herself.
Braun’s brows cinched at his question, huffing in confusion. “Why’re you sayin’ it like that?”
Eddie had quickly dismissed him with a nonchalant shake to his head. “I dunno, what’ve pictured you with a girl like Mindy, ‘s all.” What an asshole.
You knew it’d be hypocritical to suddenly interrogate your boyfriend on whoever it was Eddie was referring to, especially when it showed Eddie’s intentions were not the purest of them all with the mention of a certain ex. “The fuck, dude, no, that was nearly two years ago.” Braun quickly shut down, evidently not amused with whatever game his buddy was trying to pull.
“Relax.” He chuckled, plucking a small toothpick from the table of plattered junk food into his mouth. “Only teasin’, man, y’know me. Plus, it’s good, shows good progress on your part; movin’ from small town pretty to big city pretty.” Eddie pointed a ringed finger at you.
Braun merely rolled his eyes at the arrogant attitude he’d learned to adjust to throughout his years in high school, but when he turned to you, and saw the tight-lipped smile you gave, he leaned in to comfort you. “Don’t give him a second thought.” He whispered against your hair. “Eddie’s just… out there.”
Patting your thigh, Braun walked to join his friend at the water dispenser, leaving you to heave the tightening breaths of your chest from the sudden suffocation you felt from guilt and anxiety. “C’mon, man, lay off the comments, alright?” Braun quietly spoke to Eddie. “I don’t need you chasin’ her away when I actually love her.”
“‘Love?’” Eddie playfully whistled. “Hm, you must actually care for this girl, huh?”
Braun confirmed with his lovesick smile that made Eddie want to hurl. Soon, Braun was leaning in close to bump his friend in the chest. “So what d'ya think?”
Eddie’s daunting eyes looked past Braun’s shoulder, connecting with your fretful ones, and a sickeningly smile creased his face. He tsked, watching your ostentatious manner refusing to touch the furniture he and his buddies called home. “Seems a little… anal-retentive.” He smirked at Braun. “But, hey, she’s cute, and y’know what, if you like, I like her.” If only Braun Peterson knew of the extent of the underlying meaning his closest friend was alluding to. “You good to her? Treat her well?” Eddie questioned.
“Of course.” Your boyfriend was quick to answer.
“That’s good, that’s good.” Eddie casually nodded along, chewing on the wooden stick between his teeth. “Aye, because y’know pretty girls like her will be quick to look for another man to satisfy her. Gotta treat ‘em well, so they keep their fucking legs closed.” The toothpick snapped at the sudden clenching of his teeth, before Eddie sighed a heavy breath to calm himself. “But I think you gotta good girl on your hands, Brauny, nothin’ to worry about.” Eddie dragged out, before calling to you. “Hey, that seat comfortable for you sweetheart? Need a stool or somethin’?”
A wave of nausea slapped you, as you watched his sinister smile.
Eddie Munson totally saw trying to get off at the sight of him.
-
His minacious laugh puffed in your face, as he loved watching your eyes crumble in self-reproach from your actions. “Yeah, you fuckin’ remember, baby?” He cooed, as your head dropped with guilt as to what you had just done. But his abrasive hand was quick to forcefully grab your face, cheeks squishing under his tight grip. “Don’t feel bad, princess, it’s okay to share a little.” Eddie smiled, as your eyes frantically looked into his. “Quit the fucking innocent act.” He advised you. “You and I both know how much of a slut you are.”
“I-I,” your thoughts had been racing with the screams of wanting him off of you, but your body was falling limp in his arms, ready to let him take what you so desperately wanted him to take. The words died on your tongue, when suddenly harshing pounding came from the door.
“Yo, anyone in there?!” A drunken voice called out.
“I’ll be out a second!” You managed to rip through your shaky voice, while Eddie breathily chuckled, his hand refusing to let go of your face.
Hearing the partygoer’s footsteps decline in the distance, your heart eased for the slightest moment, and suddenly your nervous system was wailing for you to leave while you could. But before you knew it, unexpectedly, the softest kiss was placed upon your scrunched lips from the man who nearly devoured your mouth so aggressively two seconds ago; you had no choice but to be receptive. “So sweet.” He gently moved his lips against you, it had your tummy erupting with the sensations of a new touch. “So fucking perfect, y’know that? Just how perfect you are?”
Every time he briefly left your lips, you whined for more attention, quickly bringing your lips back to him with a sigh of his name, “Eddie.”
“Mm,” he moaned against your mouth. “I can see why Brauny never shuts the fuck up about you.” The mention of his name had you stiffening. “Tell me, baby, do you suck his cock as good as you kiss him?”
Stunned and repulsed by the jerk you let kiss you, you shoved Eddie’s chest back, finally getting him off of you, and before you mind could process, your hand connected to his cheek with a stinging slap. Your burning hand had trembled, as it slowly clasped it over your mouth in disbelief. Eddie slowly turned to you with a sly grin, but before he could make any movements, your feet finally found the courage to sweep you out of the bathroom with a harsh slam to the door.
On autopilot, you quickly descended down the stairs into the lively living room that did little to ease the bloodcurdling thud of your beating heart that felt as if it was going to rip out of you. It wasn’t until a hand latched itself to the bicep of your arm, reeling you back against a body.
“Hey, hey, you okay, hon?” Braun’s voice echoed into your ear.
“U-Um-”
“Baby, look, if this is about what Cheryl said, please don’t pay any mind to it.” He stroked your arm with concern. “She- everybody here just has a traditional way of thinking, but it’s not what I think. I promise, I’m not looking to shove a proposal down your throat when you’re not ready.” Braun had a fascinating way of calming your worries that drastically differed from the rush Eddie had just forced you through. “Hell, I’m not even ready.” He chuckled, which was able to elicit a small smile from you, at least. “I wanna take my time with you, cherish my moments with you, baby.”
God, you were an awful human being.
Peering behind his shoulder, you watched Eddie saunter his way down the stairs with a lingering stare that quickly found yours. “C-Can we go?” You hastily rushed out. “I’m just a little overwhelmed m-meeting all these new people.”
“Okay, yeah, yeah.” He’s quick to drop off the beers to the living room side tables that were supposed to be your drinks. “C’mon, baby, let’s just take a breather.”
If you knew the guilt Braun Peterson felt for the sole reason of throwing you into a crowd of overwhelming people when you’d literally just kissed his closest friend, you would have pathetically begged on your knees for his forgiveness in front of everyone, and detailed the million ways he was so incredible. But this would stay quiet; suppurating within you, because the peace on his face was more important than wrecking his life. As he guided you to the front door, you looked back to meet the eyes of the man who sparked a match inside you, his arm hanging around a blonde, when you wanted to be the one held under it. Eddie Munson winked at you, cruelly changing the course of your life.
-
For the days to come, Braun saw an immense amount of affection coming from your part. But who was he to complain, when someone as pretty and sweet as you willingly showed the world how much you loved him? Welcoming the morning sun with your tongue prodded at the slit of his tip, before ferociously waking him with the ride of his life, as your ass pummeled against his thighs, only for the cherry on top to come when breakfast was served like you suddenly became a housewife to your boyfriend. But you’d do whatever if it meant getting the image of his best friend out of your head, despite it leading to the best orgasm you’ve ever had when you pictured it was his cock you were riding, only to realize your lip had been sputtering with blood, because you refused your mouth the need to call out his name, Eddie!
But Friday night came, and it seemed your thoughts satiated under the cuddle of your boyfriend, who agreed to a movie night that entailed buying an obscene amount of candy from the Family Video store, where Labyrinth was purchased alongside the sweets. Wrapped under his embrace, a thick woven blanket swallowed you against the rugged couch of the basement, where you felt yourself sinking deeper and deeper.
For once, peace had come, tranquilizing the tumultuous feelings that consumed you alive. That was until the basement door impetuously flung open before echoing with a slam, that had yours and Braun’s head snapping to the stairs that creaked under the incoming weight. “Mason?” He called out for his cousin.
But it wasn’t the familiar face of his family member who lent you both the basement of his house, and your stomach twisted with fear. “Nope.” He popped the enunciation, as his hair bounced with every step until he reached the bottom step. “But he let me in.”
Braun sat up with a curious look, too occupied with the arrival of his friend to notice the rash way you curled into his side. “Hey, you alright? What’s up?” His eyes followed, as Eddie dramatically plopped himself on the singular recliner next to the couch.
“Ah, nothing.” He made himself at home, clearly lacking the regard of his intrusion to your night. “Just hangin’ around, thought I’d stop by.” His eyes glued to the television screen.
“Not that we don’t appreciate you, man,” Braun began, “but, uh, this is kinda just a movie night… for us.”
Eddie watched the oddity of the movie for a split second, before his head twisted to the both of you, eyeing the closeness with a piqued brow. “Which one of you freaks picked this movie? Was it you, sweetheart?” He smiled, as he watched you shift uncomfortably.
“Alright, c’mon, Ed, seriously.” Braun interjected.
“I’m kidding.” Eddie scoffed. “C’mon, Brauny, it’s been months since I’ve seen you, the least you two could do is spare the couple minutes of whatever touching is going on under that blanket, and let me relax here for a minute.” He argued, sinking into his chair. You watched Braun sigh, for whatever reason suddenly becoming a lap dog to the friend he long admired throughout high school, merely bringing you closer as means to make up for it.
“By the way, driving all the way here seems to be the last resort to relaxing.” Braun poked.
“Aw, c’mon did you actually think I was thinkin’ of you, Brauny?” He wooed, his eyes briefly connecting with you, as Braun rolled his. “Was seein’ Cynthia down the street.” Eddie answered.
“Dude, Ed, doesn’t she have a kid?” Braun grimaced, recalling the moments in which his cousin’s neighbor—three doors down with a minivan and white shutters—threw him an occasional hello with a stroller evident on her walk around the neighborhood.
“So fuckin’ what?” He laughed, causing your stomach to churn with disgust. “That kid made her have massive tits, it’s not like I’m looking to be the stepfather.” Eddie smiled looking back at you, your eyes refusing to meet his. “Just a simple exchange of goods for services.” He proudly announced. “Speakin’ of which, I happen to give Cynthia my last couple’a joints, you got any to smoke here?”
“No.” Braun sighed, scruffing his hair with his hand. “Haven’t gotten the chance to speak to Rick to get some, miss it, though.”
“Then go get some.”
Fuck, you knew what he was doing.
“Me? This is my place you barged into, you go.” Braun retaliated to his friend’s taunting.
“Can’t,” Eddie tsked, “kinda fucked around with the blonde Rick had his eye on a couple nights ago at Eric’s.” He laughed. “But in my defense, she never clarified, and was fairly easy, so, I mean…”
“Can you ever learn to just keep it in your pants?” Braun jabbed, forcing his friend to chuckle at the joke.
“Priorities, Brauny, Priorities.” Eddie winked, before reaching into his back pocket, retrieving the loose dollar bills from his tattered wallet to slap against the center coffee table. “Look, it’s on me, we can wait for you here, right, sweetheart?”
No, no, no. Your knees clutched to your chest, as you tried to steady the breaths that were already becoming uneasy from his presence alone. Braun peered down at you. “You can come if you want. Just gotta wait in the car, don’t want you meetin’ someone like him.”
Your eyes flickered to the man who was sickeningly grinning, somehow having the power to pull a pulsating sensation from your pussy that had you swallowing thickly. “I-It’s okay.” It wasn’t. “I can just wait here.” You spoke so meekly, as though you’d been the victim in this situation, when Braun’s pure smile beamed down at you.
“Thirty minutes top, baby.” A quick kiss landed against you, before he stood from the couch. “Don’t let him burn the house down, please.” Braun joked, slamming his hand against the table to pocket the money Eddie provided.
“Gotta good girl’s influence hanging over me,” Eddie smiled, “nothing to worry about, Brauny.”
Your boyfriend chuckled, running a soft hand against the top of your head to wish you goodbye. “Love you, baby, be right back.”
“I love you.” You shared the sentiment, watching him jog upstairs, where the basement door closed behind him with a deafening silence that shot through you. You watched the door for far longer than needed, a pressuring sting coming from your nail digging into your cuticle to get rid of the apprehension that festered in your belly.
Eddie laughed. “What a fucking liar.” Your head snapped, ready to scream at him that your words held truth; the deep admiration for the man who did nothing wro- “That I am.” Eddie added, pulling out a zippo lighter from his pocket followed by a joint. He lavished in the twitching of your eyes, flashing from anger to anxiousness under the action of him shedding his jacket to light what was brought to his lips.
A puff of cloud escaped his mouth before he spoke. “Take a hit, baby, you’re so goddamn tense I can practically feel the stick up your ass.” He stood from his place to sit next to you, immediately rolling his eyes as he found you shifting away from him, until your back hit the far end of arm rest, feet digging into the cushion as your knees stayed glued to your chest. “Relax, alright-”
“Eddie, we can’t-”
“I’m only tryin’ to get you to relax, shut up for two seconds and take a fucking hit.” He scolded, and your eyes widened under his intimidation. His body scooted until your painted toes were trapped beneath the heavy weight of his denim-clad thick thighs, allowing him to bring the joint to your face. “Don’t wanna have to get mean, just put it in your mouth.” You wondered where the anger from your assault to his face was lingering, surely the hit had to have pissed him off to some degree. His fingertips pressed against your lips, as your mouth enveloped the end of the joint, welcoming the burn to your throat. “Look so cute with that shit in your mouth, so good, princess.”
You pushed his hand away when it became too much, trying to control your coughing from the large intake. “T-Too much.”
“Mhm, I know, baby.” He whispered, watching your lips pout, as his hand caressed your leg. Bringing the joint to his lips and hearing it sizzle, Eddie moaned against it. “Fuck, I can taste your mouth on it.”
You pushed your knee away to get his hand to fall back into his lap, where his fingers only moved to hover over the bulge of his pants, as he took more hits. Soon, his sole hand was undoing the buckle of his belt, and your brows arched against his movement, yet your mouth stayed quiet from any protest.
Your lips parted in awe watching his cock spring against his belly, pants coming to hang around his thighs. His finger came to gently tease the head, before his hand wrapped to smear the precum that oozed from the tip. So casually, Eddie Munson began fucking his hand so casually, as if you weren’t sitting next to him. He acted as though he was in the comfort of his own bedroom, and you wondered whether the bit of anger that mixed in with the arousal that pressed against your belly was from the fact that he could get off without even sparing a glance at you.
He smoked and jerked his cock, letting you bask in the glory of his heavy member, where his hand tugged the loose skin of his big balls to smack against his hairy thighs. As casual as he was, Eddie was itching to turn his head and watch your legs clench with need, something his peripheral could only get a glance at, but Eddie Munson wasn’t giving in. He felt your toes curl under his thigh, your body speaking for itself to be touched.
“Fuck, that’s so good.” He twisted his palm against the slick head of his cock, before he squeezed down to his base for more tugs that had him wondering if your pussy felt anywhere near as good as his hand. You watched his fingers pull up his shirt, until his teeth bit down to hold the fabric up, and his toned toros was cramping from the sensation he was bringing himself. “Mmm!” He moaned, wetting his shirt with his mouth, as his hand became relentless against the thumping veins of his cock.
No longer a thought of need, his fingers abandoned the lit joint to the ashtray that stayed stationed on the table with a few cigarettes, and his free fingers traveled to toy with his nipples, pulling the pebbled nubs to spark up his impending orgasm. “Ugh, mm!” His hips were gyrating upward, chasing the fleshlight that was his hand, as his speed increased, and your hands grasped onto the old couch for the needed restraint to not throw yourself onto him.
With an aggressive jerk to his cock, and a stinging pinch to his nipple, the angry red head of his dick sputtered out his creamy cum, dribbling against his belly before the pool collected against his unruly pubic hair.
His shirt slowly slipped from his teeth, as Eddie caught his breath with heavy grunts. “Fuck me, shit.” Taking his fingers, he dragged it around the breadth of his belly to gather the seeping cum, where he finally turned to you with dark eyes, and used his cum tainted fingers to motion you closer.
You body mindlessly complied until those same fingers were pressing into your mouth, letting his salty spent invade your taste buds, before your throat began getting fucked. “Wanna fucking slap me and walk away, huh?” His free hand wrapped behind your neck to keep you gagging at his mercy. “Wanna get mad at me for you being a filthy slut? ‘N drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy?” You whined, holding his wrist in an attempt to ease the thrashing of his fingers down your throat. “God, so fucking pretty.”
His fingers ripped from your tongue, but before your lungs could get a breath of fresh air, his mouth was on you, replacing his fingers with his tongue, as he kissed you with such ferocity, it nearly felt like a punishment. Teeth clashing and biting, you mewled in protest. “Eddie!” You gasped pushing away, but his hands kept your face close.
“What, you don’t want me to?” He mocked, before laughing. “Y’know I don’t give a fuck.” Pushing you back against the couch, Eddie climbed over you where his mouth continued his assault against your lips, and your hands wavered into his sweaty curls.
In the briefest moment your lips disconnected, “W-We need to-” You moaned, feeling his plump lip suction against yours. “Stop, Eddie, we should- ugh!” Eddie pulled away and watched your body crave more, but your eyes stung with its glassy coating of tears that were threatening to spill. “Braun…”
“Aw, he’s gonna come back soon, ‘n you don’t wanna get caught.” He whispered, as his forehead fell against yours.
“He’s your friend.” Your voice cracked with guilt.
Eddie huffed. “You better listen clearly.” His hand wrapped around your jaw to force your eyes to his. “Brauny’s a big boy. Yeah, he may be my friend, but Brauny’s got this pretty, little thing that I need to play with, so being frank with you, baby, I don’t care.” His nose flared with anger, as his words stung. “And I’m gonna need you to cut this bullshit sorry act, because it’s really pissin’ me off, and I don’t wanna have to get angry with you.” He hissed. “Okay, baby?”
You stared into his dark eyes, mouth gulping to reply. “Okay.” And once again, your lips grazed his, letting him groan into your mouth.
“Mm, you really are so pretty, angel, such a good girl listenin’ to me.” He murmured. “Looking like this, how could your boyfriend ever expect me to keep my hands off of you?” He kissed. “You gonna let me touch you- touch that needy fuckin’ clit. I’ve never touched one before, you gonna let me touch yours?” He tormented with the brushing of his fingers against your pajama shorts.
You pouted your lips at him, brows cinching at his words. “I feel like you’re lying to me.”
And Eddie Munson snuck that signature laugh in your laugh that you didn’t appreciate, but your pussy surely did. “What does it matter if I’m lyin’ to you, you’re gonna let me touch you, anyway.” His fingers curled around the scrunchy waistband, before pulling them from your legs to expose your sopping cunt to the cold air of the basement. “Fuck, look at that.”
You didn’t know what came over you, but with a hand over his where he parted your legs, you chin tucked in to delicately ask him a question. “Did you really have sex with those girls?”
Eddie smiled, tongue lapping at his lip as he looked at you. “Does it hurt your feelings if I did?” You shrugged, not really sure why you asked, though clearly agitated by the knowing answer. “Do I gotta tell you pretty things, so you don’t get hurt?”
His hand combed through your patch of pubes, tickling your abdomen in a way that had your body seeking for more. “Please, Eddie.”
“Mm, what is it, baby?” His nails raked down the side of your pussy lips, deliberately avoiding your slit to tease the nerves of your mound. “Need your little pussy touched? It’s so fucking gorgeous.” You nodded, scratching his forearm down to his wrist to urge his movements further. “Gimme another kiss first, princess.”
You pulled him in, letting your kiss spark up the butterflies that loved to erupt in your tummy whenever you saw him. Not so harshly as before, your kiss passionately swallowed you both, with the sweet connection of saliva that strung between your moving lips. But you had an appetite for more, grossly moving the kiss into a heated direction that had him moaning on your teeth. Denying yourself from him was punishment enough, the care no longer festered, you were getting what you deserved.
“Uh, calm yourself, baby.” He spoke between kisses with a teasing chuckle. “Look at you so desperate, shh, calm down. Be slow with me for a second, sweetheart.” You obeyed, slowing your movements into a languid interaction, before your lips latched onto his tongue, pulling it out from his mouth to suck on, as if it was his cock, because you never got the chance to fully taste his musk.
Eddie mewled, cock twitching against your thigh, as your action had him melting with a burning desire. Finally, the squelching noise of your dripping arousal echoed into the room, as his fingers dove into the folds of your pussy. “Is that your fucking clit, baby? Listen to how wet your pussy is for me.”
“Mm, Eddie.” You sucked in a breath, as your fat bud was being toyed with.
“Moaning for me, princess, you’re moaning.” He whispered into your ear. “‘Cause you're mine right now, I’m making you moan, not him, hm. Not your little Brauny. You only moan for me, at least for right now, because you have a boyfriend.” You absentmindedly nodded along to whatever words he was feeding you, too caught up with your pussy being played with to care. “We’ll see about that.” He laughed, before nipping at your earlobe.
“Wanna touch you, too, baby.” You whined, reaching for his hung cock, letting your hands twirl around the heated length that was circulating with enough blood to fuck you for multiple rounds.
Eddie hissed. “Sss, what are you doin’? Grabbin’ my fucking cock?” He smiled, as you stroked him, allowing him to plunge his fingers into your tightening cunt, as both your movements fell in sync with one another. “Grab it, yes, baby, fuckin’ grab that cock!”
“Fuck, that feels so good, Eddie!” His fingers pulled out to rub your clit, before suddenly your pelvis jolted with the burning sensation of his hand coming down to your pussy. “Eddie!”
“Lemme slap that clit, lemme slap that fucking clit, baby.” Your wetness splashed against your inner thighs with each spanking of his hand. “God, you don’t know what you do to me, sweetheart. Such a pretty girl, I’m fucking losin’ my control over you. Got you strokin’ my cock, while my fingers fuck your pussy, and I love it, baby, I love it so fucking much.” He babbled, teeth biting down to keep the worse words in. Your brows furrowed, as his fingers blasted within you, hooking inside to scratch that throbbing g-spot that had you wailing with want. “Smile for me, baby, smile ‘cause I’m making my baby feel so good.”
And you did, letting your head crash back with your mouth hanging open with an inebriated smile tugging at your lips, as you played with each other. His lips crashed down for another smearing kiss that had your tongues desperately pirouetting around each other.
Your thighs began shaking under his control, pistoling his fingers in a way that was bringing you closer to your release. While looking down at your thrusting hips, he simultaneously pulled away from your kiss, leaving you to whine for his return. “No! More!”
He looked back up into those pathetic round eyes and scrunched brows with your bitten lips that nearly had him collapsing with another orgasm, as your hands pulled at the head of his cock and squeezed his balls. “Don’t you fuckin’ look at me like that.” He warned, not ready to release his load if it wasn’t going to be inside of you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of his sweaty face, beads of perspiration invading his hairline, as his face flushed with a blushing rose that surely made him feel embarrassed with how vulnerable he looked. “Don’t fuckin’- don’t you- ugh- no, no, no, no!”
His large hand slapped your cheek, forcing your face away, leaving you gasping in disbelief. “I’ll fuckin’ slap you.” He spat, watching you merely turn your head back with a sparking revelation in your eyes that made you look even more beautiful. “I’ll slap your stupid fucking face-” Another stinging crash to you cheek that had you crying in pain, but you kept looking for more. “You like that shit?”
You hurriedly nodded, letting your tears pool from the growing pain that tightened your pussy around his fingers. “Yes, more!”
A harsh smack landed on your cheek once more, agitating your poor skin. “Mhm, like that, me fucking slapping that stupid, little fucking face.” His hand felt the wetness of your tears drenching your cheeks with every slap. “Bruisin’ that pretty fucking face, fuck! C’mere, c’mere!”
His tongue lavished against your burning skin, bringing tingles to your body when his spit-covered tongue ran against your hot cheek to lick up your salty tears. “Get your fuckin’ hands off my cock, I’m shovin’ it inside your desperate cunt.” Eddie declared, slapping his tip to your pussy, to let your wetness pour on his dick.
A harsh stab to your pussy lunged his thick cock into your pulsating walls, urging a screaming moan from your lungs. “Fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” His hands clamped around the front of your thighs to fold you in half.
“Ugh, fuck! Slow, p-please, baby, slow!” You wailed.
“Yeah?” He cooed, driving his thrust down to one punctuated one every second. “You want this cock slowly, can’t fucking handle this tight, little pussy getting fucked hard?”
Your trembling hands cupped his face, letting you bring him down for a consuming kiss. “J-Just wanna feel all of you.”
“You are, baby, you are.” Eddie pierced himself into your g-spot. “Feel it deep inside, baby, feel my fucking cock all the way inside! Just for you! You- you fucking dirty, filthy whore!” The muscles of his ass tightly clenched to pound you thoroughly with each stroke. “Gonna let me do it faster? Huh? Fuck you into this fucking couch until your some braindead slut? Look at you taking my cock!” His hips began slapping faster. “Gonna be fucking good for me?”
“Uh-huh! Always, fuck!”
“You will?” He taunted. “You fucking will? You’ll take this cock whenever I want you to? Whenever I want this pussy of mine? In front of your boyfriend? Tie him to a fuckin’ chair, and force him to watch me fuck his pretty girlfriend’s little cunt!”
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me better than him!” Your hips moved to meet his slapping thighs, as you clenched around his cock to milk him with the cum you wanted in your cunt. “Want him to watch me take your fat cock!”
An animalistic growl forced its way out of chest, as the image of his best friend crying over the despair of betrayal elicited him to rut his hips into you fervently. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” His head dropped against your chest, reveling in the commotion of your bouncing tits that were urging to be freed. His hands pulled at your shirt, exposing your boobs that were quickly squished together under his hands, as his tongue lapped around your nipple.
“Ugh, yes, you’re gonna make me cum!” You heaved, finding your hand had landed on his thigh at a weak attempt to slow his crashing movements into your pussy.
“Beautiful fucking tits!” He nibbled on your pointy nipples, forcing those whines that drove him crazy to come out. “So fuckin’ delicious! And just for me!”
“Just for you! Only you!”
“Yeah?” He pouted at you. “Fuck, fucking lick my hand, lick my fucking hand, you bitch.” His palm landed on your mouth, where you dumbly stuck your tongue out to taste the sweatiness of his hand, before that same hand came crashing down on your cheek for the umpteenth time. “Stick that filthy fuckin’ tongue out when I slap you in the fuckin’ face!”
You obliged, letting the wet muscle hang out as another slap landed on your face, forcing your head to the side. But turning your face back with the expectation of one more slap fell short, when instead, a glob of warm spit hit your tongue, one after another.
“Fuckin’ clean that asshole from you fucking holes!” More spit. “‘Cause you’re mine! Not his! With my spit in your mouth and my cum in your pussy, you’ll be fuckin mine, right?!”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as the rope in your belly was hanging on by a mere thread ready to snap. “Yes! Yes! Just yours!” You cried out. “Cleanse me! Cleanse me with your cum and make me yours!”
Eddie’s hand pressed down against your pelvis harshly, prompting a gushing stream of your hot squirt to wet yourself and his thighs, as you screamed from the highs of orgasmic ecstasy. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I’m cumming! I’m- FUCK!”
Nothing but heavy breaths could be heard in the basement that reeked of sex and bodily fluids. Your hands fell limp around his neck, whereas he sagged the entirety of his dead weight against your chest. His teeth grinded from the continuation of your pussy clenching around him, as your body tried to settle at the unfamiliar size that inculcated itself brutality into your cunt.
It was quiet. It was peace.
Until the ringing in your ears subsided, and slowly began picking up on the maniacal laugh that was coming from the man who slowly picked up his head from your chest to greet your un-whitening vision with a sinister smile, and suddenly you felt the pit in your stomach sink.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve just made a big fuckin’ mistake.” He chuckled, harshly pressing his forehead into yours, causing the seat cushion to dent beneath you. “Y’know why?” He tantalized, watching your eyes grow big with fear. “Because if your little boyfriend touches you after you just said you were mine,” he placed a delicate kiss to your lips that you couldn’t muster to reciprocate, too scared to do so, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” He laughed.
-
A minute and eight seconds.
Braun Peterson had leaned the weight of his body against the counter, letting the low hum of the buzzing microwave lull his mind to ease, as the fingers of his hand shoved against his eye to wake from the tiredness of the morning day. It hadn’t been until the slap of a heavy hand against his bare shoulder jolted his eyes open to see his cousin slugging his socked feet against the linoleum tiles, before scratching the floor with the chair legs to have a seat at the kitchen table.
Mason had yawned, stretching his jaw from the bitter soreness of having to deal with a restless night of grinding his teeth. “Where’s the missus?” His nails scratched over his stubble. “Sleepin’ in?” Given your gratitude for a place to stay, Mason had spent the few days of your presence waking up to a full breakfast of all the fixins, differing greatly to the two-minute microwave food the young welder had to succumb to for his poor skills behind the stove.
The morning had changed with the sight of Braun in front of the buzzing appliance. “Out, actually.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, couple days ago,” Braun cleared his dry throat, “she met Cheryl- you remember Cheryl?” Not exactly someone from Mason's graduating class, but given Hawkins’ small breadth of streets, a distant young face of hormonal acne and blue eyeshadow was all that could be pulled from his string of memories, as Cheryl Daniels still sported that purity ring that had long gone been switched out for an engagement ring to her military fiance, whom she could relish his fat benefits with. So, Mason simply nodded to get the story along. “Anyway, yeah, Y/N met her, and, well, you know how women are; one giddy introduction, next thing y’know they’re doing 9:00 a.m pilates and leavin’ me behind to eat some shit food for breakfast.”
Mason peered at the counter to see the empty box of his frozen food. “You asshole, ‘s that my last Hot Pocket?” His mundane voice spoke, too tired to hold any real malice behind it.
“I’ll head to the store and buy you a whole new pack, relax.”
Braun Peterson steadily watched the last couple of seconds tick down. “If anything, man, I deserve that one after you and Y/N kept me up last night.” Mason breathily chuckled.
“Ah, sorry,” Braun stretched his arms, “Y’know Eddie came over, we watched a movie, didn’t realize it was so loud- which if you want any advice, don’t watch Labyrinth high, unless you wanna have a total freak out.”
“Not talking about that.” Mason shook his head with a laugh. “But, aye, next time you bring Munson around and make my basement reek of weed, the least you could do is save me some.”
But Braun’s eyebrows had stayed scrunched with concern to ever consider his cousin’s future word of advice. “The hell are you talking about then?” He curiously poked.
“You and Y/N.” Mason emphasized with a sly smirk to tease. “I mean, you guys are usually pretty considerate, but I guess the weed really got to y’all or somthing, man, you two were fucking loud last night- and I mean that literally.” He laughed. “Would’ve taken her as a quiet girl.”
Braun Peterson blinked. You had went straight to bed last night after the movie. In fact, you heavily implored him to do the same, after swifty prompting Eddie out of the door when the credit scenes rolled. “Y/N and I- we didn’t… no, we didn’t-”
The microwave beeped.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#mean!eddie munson#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic
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Okie so I was thinking about requesting for a while but never stuck with an idea. Maybe something with a reader who has been neighbors with the graves since they lived in the apartments. Like they’re a tad younger than Ashley (about two years) and looks up to the both of them like they’re older siblings and follows them around like a lost puppy. Like reader’s parents would want them to make friends with other kids but they refuse because “I want Leyley and Andy:(“ . They’re a little too touchy during childhood to both siblings, and it might bother Andrew and Ashley (Ashley a little more than Andrew lol) but eventually the neighbor mellows out. They’re still sweet and kind to those around them but they’re not as physically touchy and trying to talk to other people. Like, reader explains they can’t make it to a hangout cause they made plans with other people and the Graves siblings are like “Wait, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go-“ And now they unconsciously try to do anything to get reader to stay with them and isolate them from others. Like taking any opportunity to get what they want. Andrew’s sick? How about you skip your date to help him out? Their parents are gone for a while? Sleepover time! Just like we used to do when we were little! Oh you can’t find you’re sleeping bag and it’s conveniently colder than Antarctica? Cuddle time! You’re now stuck between two attractive goth siblings. And you’re not gonna ever leave. Ever.
notes from coff-in: i feel it in my heart (and in my delusional head) that ashley would constantly sneak over to [reader]'s place to hang out with them. and if ashley's going then andrew has to follow her to make sure she doesn't cause any trouble.
[gender neutral] reader-insert
[reader] following around leyley and andy put put her very on edge. why the fuck are you following them around?! are you trying to steal andy's gaze, you fucking floozy? go away! back off! andy's is hers!! it would take befriending leyley first before you can actually hang out with them both, and befriending leyley can take a lot. she's whiny, and clingy, and pushes and pulls [reader] away and close all the time. like an ocean of insecurity... but they're finally able to safely traverse her waves.
andy appreciates [reader]'s patience. he's also happy that ashley was able to make a genuine friend. they both found [reader]'s fixation on them weird, like go hang out with someone else already! but eventually [reader]'s unstoppable force clashed with them, the unmovable objects, and they were able to be friends. best friends, even! with friendship bracelets, sleepovers, going out to parks or streets together; honestly three peas in a pod.
other people think you're weird for hanging out with the graves siblings as much as you do. some girls talk [reader] being so brave to touch andrew so brazenly with ashley around. it's not too much of a big deal- i mean, you can't touch him for too long without giving ashley some attention too :3
and then [reader] gets older, they notice how distant they get. sure, school can be pretty hectic and busy but surely you would still have time for them, right? why aren't you coming over as much? sure, their mom isn't the most welcoming... but they can still come over to your place! oh... you're busy studying... and tomorrow you'll be out with other friends... well, they can join you! problem solved :)
ashley throws a fucking tantrum over [reader] having other friends. what do you mean you have other friends?! are you leaving them?! you can't do that! you chose them! they chose you! ashley's spreading rumors and fighting harlots in the parking lot in order for you to stay close to them. andrew is less... obvious about it? he offers to do your work (he's done it before for ashley) in exchange for you to hang out with them. simple, right? he's not asking much and you get guaranteed passing grades in return. just snuggle up next to them while you watch a movie together... simple.
they really don't know why you'd throw this away for other people.
-----
coff-in
#cobweb in the coffin#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal#andrew graves#ashley graves#tcoaal x reader#the coffin of andy and leyley x reader#andrew graves x reader#ashley graves x reader
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Another Love II - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
Summary: Being late doesn’t always mean you lost your chance. Wanda might not be yours now, but if there’s something an Eternal can do is wait. | Chapter Summary: Finally, the wait is over.
Warnings: (+16) unrequired love, hints of mutual (?) pining; mild angst with happy ending, friends/team partners, canon divergence, fluff, some tension, language. | Words: 5.051k
Part One || General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |
-&-
Wanda has only been to London on business before, both for the Avengers and the Coven. It's refreshing in a way, just being a tourist, even if only for the short train ride to the National History Museum.
It was Sersei who revealed to her where you were working. For some reason, and to annoy Wanda's nerves, you were much more distant lately both physically and emotionally than she would have liked.
The place was crowded and perhaps Wanda used a little magic to avoid being recognized by any of the Avengers' fanbase, making her way unhurriedly to the reception desk.
She could trace your aura easily but was cordial in introducing herself and following the instructions of where your class was taking place.
Through glass windows, she saw you for the first time in months, and couldn't help a soft sigh escape her lips. With her hands held in her coat pockets in an attempt to have some sort of ground, she approached through the open door at the back of the room.
Your monologue about Mesopotamian constructions was lost in mid-sentence as soon as your eyes met hers. Wanda smiles shyly, and you stand there, adorably surprised.
The teenagers present in the class soon assumed curious expressions at the interruption of your speech, and it was one of the boys in the back who looked between you and Wanda before loudly teasing, "Damn, Professor just got tongue-tied because of the Scarlet Witch!"
The room exploded into giggles, and you blushed awkwardly, eventually chuckling too as you waved for them to calm down. Wanda smiles coyly at the scene, waiting for you to approach her.
"Thank you for this, Mr.Matthews." You say to the student, nodding to the board. "Finish reviewing the chapter, please. I'll be back in five minutes, no fuss, don't you all forget you're in a Museum."
You walked over to Wanda, and she tried not to show how she trembled at the gentle touch on her elbow to guide her to the coffee table area, but she didn't do such a good job when you were finally alone outside and you hugged her in greeting.
"It's good to see you, darling." You said, pulling away to hold her shoulders for a moment. Your gentle and tender smile and eyes made her feel warm. "I didn't know you were coming to see me. Nothing wrong happened, I hope?" You asked frowning in concern, but Wanda quickly denied it, offering you a reassuring smile.
"No, I just... I wanted to talk to you. And see you." She confesses with a weak laugh. "Can we go out for coffee after your class?"
"Of course, Wanda. It will be over in a few minutes, you can enjoy the exhibition in the meantime." You say, biting your lip when it looks like you're going to say something else. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding, and you take a chance. "You look breathtaking, sweetheart."
She can feel her face heat up, but she handles smiling in appreciation. "You don't look bad yourself, Professor." She teases with a wink, managing to make you chuckle awkwardly.
You touch her again, squeezing her arm in farewell before heading back to the classroom, and Wanda thinks she replays the feeling in her head the whole way back to the exhibit.
She is facing an exhibit of Ancient Greece when she senses your presence behind her.
"How many of these artists have you met in person?" She asks interested, and you let out a small laugh.
"Not as many as I would like I'm afraid." You reply with a slight nostalgic sigh. "But I did meet Σαπφώ (Sapphō). She was a rather passionate lover."
Wanda snorts incredulously, patting you on the shoulder in indignation. "Oh my god, you slept with her?"
You shrug, laughing softly and raising a finger in front of your lips in a sign of secrecy. "Kérkolas, her husband, must be cursing me from the afterlife right now." You joke managing a chuckle from Wanda.
There is a moment of tender silence between the two of you, the long-time complicity of a long-missed friendship where you just stare at some of the displays around, walking side to side with each other.
It is amidst one of the statues of Ancient Greece that your gazes meet again and no longer waver away. Wanda sighs and you nod towards the exit, she doesn't even need to think for her feet to start moving on instinct, following you wherever you want.
It is to a closed office that you take her, closing the door as soon as she enters.
Wanda swallows dryly at the gesture of helping her remove her coat, placing it on the support as she moves further into the room.
"Can I get you something to drink?" You ask working on the buttons of the sleeves of the social shirt you are wearing so Wanda understands that you are indeed going to prepare something for her.
"Hm, sure, you can surprise me." She murmurs, and you offer her a mischievous little smile before walking toward the small bar at the corner of the office.
"Not that I'm not happy about your visit, darling, but I'm getting curious as to why." You comment and Wanda sighs deeply in the center of the room, trying to build up the courage. She keeps her gaze on the tall windows that illuminate the room and doesn't face you when she finally speaks.
"I'm getting a divorce."
You stop the motion of cutting a lemon and raise your eyes to her, your frown frowning in surprise. "Oh. I... I'm sorry to hear that."
She chuckles softly, staring at you. "No, you don't."
"Yeah, I don't." You respond without hesitation, turning your attention back to the lemon. "Not for him, of course. Even though it bothers me that you're unhappy."
Wanda sighs, watching you prepare two drinks that honestly look delightful. "I'm not unhappy, Y/N." She retorts and you hum in a sign that you are listening. "I guess it was only inevitable."
"You're being a little hard on yourself." You comment with a tiny smile, finally holding two cups in hand, of which one you bring to her. "Tell me what happened."
She nods in thanks for the drink, and you raise an eyebrow as she turns the glass over in one gulp, chuckling dryly at the scene. Wanda grunts softly.
"Shit, that was good." She compliments the drink, and you smile as you see her staring at your cup as well. Without saying anything, you also hand her yours and take the empty one away. At least the second, Wanda tries to enjoy it more. After a sip, she sighs and begins to explain: "Vision took your advice. A little after the honeymoon, he went to visit Shuri. I think Makkari was with them. They talked about the safety of the stone and he decided to do the splitting in Wakanda." She counters breaking into a forced laugh. "And apparently without the stone, he runs out of love for me too."
You swallow dryly at the hurt expression on her face and raise your hand to take the cup away, slowly so as not to startle her. Wanda sniffles and you sigh.
"I'm sorry about the end of your marriage."
She huffs. "No, you don't."
"I never wanted you unhappy, you know that." You insist firmly on her watery eyes. "And if his love lingered to a magic stone, you know it was good to find out about this early. It's less painful this way."
Wanda huffs angrily, taking a step forward. "How dare you, honestly?" She demands bitterly, but you don't flinch in your attitude. "You have ruined my marriage. I should... I..."
You raised a brow, waiting, but Wanda grunted and walked away, hiding her face in her hands.
Hearing her cry finally breaks your posture, but you dare not touch her yet.
"I really thought I could be happy with him." She confesses low and vulnerable and you sigh. "How could I be so stupid?"
You move closer, circling her until Wanda can see you again. Your hands find her cheeks and she wants to hate the way her skin warms over your touch, but she can't even be angry about it.
"You haven't done anything wrong, my love." You whisper tenderly, wiping her cheeks with your thumbs. "You are so majestic, Wanda Maximoff. You deserve someone better, you've always deserved more than a machine. I could-"
Wanda pushes you by the shoulders, and you shut up at the fury in her red irises.
"I'll never forgive you for interfering, you had no right!" That's the last thing she says to you before turning her back and leaving.
The drinking cup ends up on the wall with a throw, and half the items off your table as well. Wanda's coat is forgotten in your office for weeks until you leave this job too.
She won't answer your calls anymore.
-&-
There is a cold breeze passing through Massachusetts that makes Wanda shiver in her armchair. She gets up to close the windows and curtains, and her office is less bright than before with the action.
Candles are lit by themselves as she makes her way to her armchair again. On her desk are several documents to be reviewed: some are magical contracts on parchment because witches have quirks they refuse to lose, and others are printouts as one would expect to exist in the 21st century, some contain the symbol of the Avengers, others of the Kamar Taj.
A knock on the door followed by its opening makes Wanda raise her eyes.
"There's mail for you, Maximoff." Agatha announces with a sneer, tossing the items she holds into the air - which float toward Wanda's desk. "They might be late, no one checks the mailbox in this place."
It's Wanda's turn to grimace. "Thanks, Agatha." She retorts wryly, picking up the cards as soon as they reach them. Her stomach does a complete turn when she reads the name, and it doesn't get any better when she reads the date. "What the...? Agatha, by god, some of these are months old!"
The older witch shrugs her shoulders, approaching Wanda's table unceremoniously. As the younger one opens the older letter, Agatha wastes no time in checking the newer ones, ignoring Wanda's slap of protest about this.
"Hmm, love letters, how sweet." Ironizes the witch as soon as she opens one, and laughs when Wanda grabs the item from her hand with a tug, the warning does not look very effective on account of her pink cheeks. "It's from Miss Immortal, I imagine."
"That's none of your business." Wanda retorts, turning her attention to one of the old correspondences from one of the Coven contacts that everyone thought had given up on making a deal, but apparently had just been ignored by the witch mail.
Agatha chuckles lightly. "You know you can't ignore your girlfriend forever."
Wanda huffs impatiently. "She's not my girlfriend! She's nothing really. Just go mind your own business, will you? I'm working."
But Agatha ignores the request, leaning on the table to steal the letter back and fleeing from Wanda's hands before the woman can reach her.
"Please, Wanda, please forgive me. I never had any intent to hurt you in any way or cause you any pain-" The reading is interrupted when Wanda's magic does the work of snatching the letter from the other witch's hand, who falls into laughter. "Wow, you’re pissed off enough to rip an apology letter. What did she do, cheat on you?"
Wanda huffs impatiently. "For the last time, she's not my girlfriend!" But Agatha only giggles at the outburst, which makes Wanda sigh impatiently. "We were friends, and she...is the reason for my divorce."
"Hmm, spill the tea." Agatha makes mention of sitting down in one of the armchairs but Wanda rolls her eyes.
"Stop it, I'm busy." Grumbles the witch. "Thanks to you I just earned months of late work."
"No way, it's not my fault that most supernatural creatures don't trust the internet." Agatha retorts as she throws herself on one of the couches. "Every Winter Solstice is a real hell, with so many wolves on the loose and the council bothering us with the safety of mortals..."
Wanda sighs. "Agatha, I'm busy." She repeats, receiving a roll of her eyes in return as the other begrudgingly stands up.
"You know what, Maximoff? You need to get laid." Declares the other causing Wanda to choke in indignation, her ears burning. " Yes, you heard me! You've been a nervous wreck since you took over the leadership of the coven! You don't leave this office for anything and stay working all day, not even joining our festivities! And all this time you have a hot immortal sending you sex letters? It's truly absurd that you're still here." In complete shock, Wanda stares at her. Agatha grins at her expression. "My mortal years were the most fun, you should enjoy them as well. You are the Scarlet Witch, Wanda. One of the most powerful cosmic entities in the multiverse, you are going to have many centuries to focus on work, but your mortal life is only one. You should pay her a visit."
Wanda sighs in defeat, nodding in concordance after a moment. Agatha smiles in victory, and while the other searches for her cell phone, she risks spying on other letters.
"I have to admit that she sounds a lot less terrifying in these passages." Agatha comments as she reads again, ignoring Wanda's protest and continuing to talk. "She scared the girls off when she was here last year, and I heard stories about her strength. But reading this, I think she's just a simp." Jokes the brunette but Wanda doesn't laugh, looking at her with a frown of curiosity.
"She was here last year?"
Agatha snorts through her nose. "Of course, she was, silly." Replies the witch as if it's obvious. "She came as a diplomatic action between her people and ours, full of questions and agreements. It started out well, but you know how witches are. And in general, we don't trust strangers. It ended with her intimidating anyone who threatened to harm you, I believe."
Wanda felt her face warm and stared at Agatha in disbelief. "She... was here for me?"
The other chuckled again. "By all the holy ones, Maximoff, you are impossible! Where do you think I got the impression you two were a couple from?
Wanda opens her mouth but doesn't know exactly what to say. She babbles something about being married at the time and Agatha laughs in disbelief. "Please, as if a piece of paper means anything to someone like her." Ironizes the older witch. "Especially the union with a microwave." She mutters the last part, but Wanda listens, grimacing.
"Don't talk about him like that. I loved Vision truly." Wanda says but that only brings a glint to Agatha's eyes.
"Hm, ‘past tense’? I think the Immortal one has a chance..." The witch fell into laughter as Wanda tried to hit her with an energy ball, ducking just in time. "Listen to someone who has lived as long as I have. You need to get laid."
"Agatha I swear to god I will use violence-"
But the older witch raises her hands in surrender and finally leaves the room, laughing all the way out and down the hall.
Wanda sighs at the empty room, the cell phone that has been turned off for weeks in her hand.
She can do this, she repeats to herself. It doesn't have to be weird. She can call you and ask you for a drink and it doesn't have to be anything more than that. You have been friends before.
“This number is offline or out of range, please try again later or leave a message after the tone-”
With a frustrated grunt at the fourth attempt to make contact, Wanda returned the cell phone to her pocket and marched determinedly out of the room. She wouldn't be stopped by technology from finding you, not a chance. If Agatha didn't know how to help, two speedsters probably would.
-&-
The loud music almost made her turn around. It was a generic but addictive electronica, and it was so blasting from the speakers that even before she stepped through the portal she opened to get there, Wanda could already hear the noise that the vast majority of the neighbors in the area of that Spanish nightclub could as well.
Makkari was courteous enough to tell her where you were last seen, going so far as to joke that if Wanda couldn't find you at this party, she should try the next bars down the street. Wanda couldn't laugh at the joke, her stomach suddenly wracked with strange guilt as she heard stories about how your last few months had been spent on intense partying that wasn't at all typical of your behavior, and that had a lot to do with a fight you haven't told any of your friends about, but which Wanda remembered every detail of as if it were yesterday. Makkari tried to comfort her, saying that every Eternal has their period of dissatisfaction with immortality and that parties are a good distraction, but it didn't help to know that not even her best friends were sure of your current location or state of health.
Wanda tried to be positive about the reunion, but as soon as she entered the crowded nightclub, and with the help of some basic telekinesis, she reached a VIP area with clearly magical people, she didn't feel much at ease. And there were you too, in all your melancholy glory sitting on a leather couch watching a gambling game with two beautiful girls practically sitting on your lap.
A security guard made mention of stopping her entrance, but red irises stared at him for half a second and it was enough for him to make room for her to pass instead.
She noticed your lazy eyes, dilated pupils, and easy smile, and hated the hand on the thigh of the girl on the right as if she were suffering the greatest of betrayals. Wanda knew she had no right to feel this way, having been the one to fight with you, to blame you for the end of her marriage, and to have ignored all your attempts to apologize, but this is exactly the way she does feel.
You lean in, whispering something dirty enough in the girl's ear to make her blush and close her legs, and Wanda loses patience.
"Makkari was right. You truly hit rock bottom." She mocks in a tone loud enough to be heard throughout the entire backstage, the music slightly muffled by the walls in the rest of the club. All eyes turn curiously to her, but yours are the ones she's looking for, and they take almost a full moment to focus. Your relaxed posture doesn't change, but your smile fades.
"Look who decided to show up." You returned with a certain coolness that made Wanda swallow dryly. "Greetings to the legendary Scarlet Witch."
Each individual in the room turns their face and greets her at the same second, the hypnotized chorus of 'Hello, Wanda' makes an eerie shiver run through her entire body. She doesn't have time to create any theories about the whole scene, because out of a curtain in the background comes a figure she doesn't know as well as the other Eternals.
Druig's presence is a complete surprise to her. Wanda remembers well all the disagreements you two have had and the stories she has heard about the past. So finding that Eternal in a fancy, expensive suit, controlling an entire nightclub by your side is not exactly a predictable situation.
"Wanda Maximoff, what an honor to meet you again." He comments as he moves closer to kiss her hand, taking on old customs with natural ease. His hand remained holding her for a full moment, and Wanda understood it to be a warning. The attitude made her blood boil. But when Druig turned his attention back to you, he was smiling. "You didn't tell me old friends would be visiting you, sister."
You locked your jaw. "Don't call me that, Druig." Was your warning, detaching yourself from the grip of the girls beside you without any trouble to get up. "And stop trying to scare Wanda. You wouldn't stand a chance with her. Nor with me, brother."
A wicked smile played on the man's lips, but he remained with his hands behind his back and nodded in understanding to your statement. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda and it was enough for her to follow you to what looked like a balcony of the chamber, which provided a view of the magnificent capital of Barcelona.
As soon as Wanda was beside you at the edge, you gestured back, creating a transparent wall in the doorway to prevent snooping. She recognized the privacy spell and kept to herself the realization of how cold and twitchy your magic felt, very different from the last time she felt your presence at the university in London.
"Why are you here, Wanda?" You asked her immediately, with no patience for small talk.
"I called." She returned without caring about the aggressiveness, her hands clasped tightly inside her pockets, seeking some warmth in her own jacket to protect herself from the cold night. Not so long ago, you would have wasted no time in offering her a scarf, or taking any action to warm her, and the lack of friendliness and nurturance made her shiver more than the cold. "Makkari said-"
"I can deduce exactly what she said, thank you." You cut her off with a certain impatience. You didn't keep your gaze, rummaging through your pockets for something until you pulled out of your jacket a silver bottle marked with the Asgard symbol. Thor had one of those, and Wanda knew immediately that it was a traditional drink. The way your fingers were trembling made her understand that this would not be the first sip of either Asgardian liquor or an earthly drink.
"I wish you were sober for this conversation."
You chuckled, short and ironic still with your gaze on the bottle you were opening. Your laughter lingered during the big gulp you took, and when you looked at her again, you commented, "You were always funny, Maximoff. Truly enjoyable company." Your gaze faded to the landscape, nostalgic and hurt, and Wanda sighed.
"I didn't come here to fight with you, Y/N." She tried again, though dissatisfied with your distant posture, still determined to set things straight. "But I was surprised to find you so..."
"Miserable?" You complete for her with a weak laugh, still looking out over the city. Wanda swallows dryly, and you sigh. "Don't martyr yourself. No matter how devastating the broken heart feels, it always heals."
"I'm sorry." She declares softly. "I never meant to hurt you."
You clear your throat, pulling away a little to look at her, and with the posture you assume, Wanda almost feels physical walls between you.
"You didn't come to Barcelona for an apology, Maximoff. What happened? Is it something with work?" Your frown is gently worried, but the insinuation irritates her.
"Do you really think I wouldn't talk to you for so long just to show up asking for work favors?" She retorts but you don't flinch.
"I don't think anything, Wanda." You retort indifferently. "I've stopped having expectations of you, or anyone else. That way I avoid being disappointed."
"Is this you or Druig talking?" She challenges, and instead of hitting a nerve, you smile.
You bring the flask closer to your lips, and whisper, "Always too quick for me, clever girl." before drinking and accomplishing a small smile from her.
"I mean it, Y/N." Wanda insists, though softer than before. "I want to apologize for the last time we saw each other. I shouldn't have blamed you for the end of my marriage, nor put down your attempts to fix things between us."
You study her face for a moment, finding only sincerity in her eyes. Then you sigh, and finish all the liquid in the bottle in one gulp. Wanda opens her mouth to say something, but you interrupt her.
"When was the last time you had fun, Scarlet Witch?"
She frowns, hesitantly. "I'm really not in the mood-"
But you grabbed her hand, grinning. "Don't be boring, Maximoff. We were friends before any of the drama. Come, I'll show you how the Spanish celebrate life."
Since becoming the Scarlet Witch, Wanda had gotten better with crowds because of her job. Still, it was a little hard to be inserted into a fair of bodies squeezed inside a lounge with vibrant colors and loud music. And your hand pulling her close, spinning her around as your body moved against hers to the synchronized beat wasn't helping her nerves at all.
But eventually, Wanda felt all the tension dissipate within the songs - only to be replaced by an equally suffocating feeling. Your hands roamed over her body as your hips slammed together and Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else but you.
She spun again, one last time before you grew tired of ignoring your own will, and grabbed her face, your mouth against hers.
Wanda choked on her own breath, and the world stopped for a whole moment. All the sounds, and all the people around just disappeared. You kissed her and that was all that mattered in that second.
But you let go before she could respond the way she wanted to, and the look on your face made her swallow dry.
"What's wrong?" She whispered half breathlessly against your lips.
Your hand was warm against her cheek, and when you moved it away, Wanda almost let out an audible protest at the lack, her body practically tumbling towards you, begging for your touch.
You shook your head in the negative, turning and moving further into the crowd and Wanda almost lost sight of you.
The people around seemed to hinder her path to you, but a glimpse of the red glows and the hall cleared a path for the witch. If Wanda began to use her powers with more confidence now, Agatha Harkness had a strong influence on it.
You went outside the nightclub, and Wanda realized you must have spent some time dancing because the street was much emptier than before.
With a hand on your chest, your breathing labored and your shoulders tense, Wanda realized you looked like you were on the verge of a panic attack.
"Hey, darling, talk to me-" She reached up trying to touch your wrist but you pulled away. Your back was turned so far but when you turned around, Wanda saw that your eyes were filled with tears.
"Don't you dare." You raise a finger towards her, gasping and emotional. Then she falls silent immediately, gulping dryly at the fury in your gaze. "You don't... have the right, okay? You just can't."
She sighs, taking a step forward. "You're the one who kissed me."
You chuckle in disbelief, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Fuck you, Wanda."
"How classy." She sneers to which you only shake your head.
"You did this to me." You retort determinedly, gesturing to yourself. "Look at me, Wanda! I'm a mess! I'm sick! You've carved your way into my heart, and I can't live without you! Do you even realize what you've done? Do you even care?"
Heart racing, Wanda opens her mouth but the intensity of the confessions has left her speechless. She has no chance to speak, however, because you continue.
"Seven thousand years I've been on this earth, and I've never felt like this. Who gave you the right? I'm not made for it, I don't know how to... deal with it. This pain, this lack. The longing... I can't do it, Wanda." You gasp. "I was fine without you! I was working, sticking to my mission. And then you came along and ruined me for good!" Your hand pulled her close again, your forehead resting against hers. Wanda waited and waited for a kiss that never came. Instead, you held her hands against your chest. "Take your love away, Wanda. I don't know where to put it if I can't dedicate it to you."
She smiled tearfully, brushing their noses together. "I haven't lived that long, but I will, my darling. And I want it spent with you." She whispered, holding on tighter as you look at her doubtfully. "I will only take your love with me if I can leave mine with you."
"Wanda-"
"Stop babbling and kiss me for once, you drunken fool." She cuts you off, and you don't waste another second.
You think all those centuries were worth it for this moment. Wanda kisses and kisses you, and can't believe she resisted this for so long. That she dared to marry another when she could have had this.
You let out an audible moan as she sucked your tongue and she was grateful for your hands around her waist, for she would have slipped to the floor.
When you broke apart, panting and flushed, you stood with your faces very close together.
"You should have married me." It is the first thing you say, and it draws a hearty, husky laugh from the other.
"There's still time, I suppose." She retorts, shy about the look of adoration she catches the next moment. She swallows dryly. " I'm sorry I hurt you before."
You shake your head quickly. "I hurt you first, I know. I should have told all the others to go to hell and run away with you when I had the chance."
She giggles, pleased that you recognize the past. Your mistakes too, not just hers. But none of that mattered anymore now, and she told you so.
You decided that enough had been said and that words could be left for tomorrow.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#wanda maximoff oneshots#wanda maximoff
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LOVE IS OLD, LOVE IS NEW
One Shot Part 1 ~ Daniel Wagner / Female Reader 𓅪
AN: This is a comfort fic! Danny is not the cheater! This fic changed a lot from when I started writing it to when it ended, so I hope you enjoy wherever my mind went while I wrote this…
Word Count: + 10.6k
Content Warnings: Hurt/comfort heartbreak, crying, cheating, insecurity, nudity, deprecating thoughts, intense sadness, self-isolation, boner, mentions of sexual situations, lots of skin touching including breasts (but in a non-sexual way), love confessions, mentions of sex, considerate Danny.
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“You alright?” Danny asked, pausing the movement of his fingers and ripping his intense attention from the melodic chords he had been working on, letting his acoustic guitar falter in his hands.
You looked up from your phone, “What? Oh, yeah, fine.”
You weren’t really fine. It was your boyfriend, Otis’s birthday, and you hadn’t been able to get a hold of him all day. You swiped through your text chain, seeing that your message at 7am wishing him a happy birthday was followed by an embarrassing amount of messages almost once an hour asking what he was doing, how he was doing, and if he was okay.
You had grown unbelievably restless, your anxiety bordering between genuine concern for his well being, and fear that he was shutting you out for some reason.
Though, this wasn’t completely unusual for Otis. He had always been distant, emotionally elusive in a way that left you second guessing your every move. Sometimes, he would go an entire day without a word, shutting down for reasons you could never quite figure out. You attributed it to the way he must’ve been raised, but often, and without warning, he would go into a mood. You had tried to understand, tried to make excuses for it. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe you were overreacting.
It was terribly confusing, but you’d grown used to it, trying your hardest to take note of anything that may be a consistent trigger in his moods.
Danny, who was by far your closest friend, did not approve of his behaviour at all. In fact, he didn’t approve of Otis full stop. You had grown up together, graduated together, and were now splitting the rent of some small, shitty apartment in Nashville together, and it was hard for you to conceal the faults in your relationship when Danny seemed to always be there.
“You sure? You’ve been staring at that phone all afternoon,” he argued pointedly.
You huffed and ran a hand down the side of your face, “It’s just Otis…it’s his birthday but he hasn’t texted me back all day.” You paused, and Danny set his guitar down, its neck leaning against the arm of the couch you were both seated on. “I’m getting kinda worried,” you added.
Danny’s jaw tightened at the mention of Otis, a familiar tension brewing in his stance. You knew what he thought of your boyfriend, he had never been shy about it. As your best friend since childhood, Danny had always been protective of you, and he couldn’t stand how Otis treated you. To Danny, Otis was an undeserving ghost, always there, but never really present.
But it wasn’t as if Otis treated you poorly. No, you wouldn’t be dating him if he was. He just was a bit flaky sometimes- physically and emotionally.
Danny’s brows furrowed, “That is weird. Maybe he’s just busy with friends or something?” he suggested.
You shook your head, “No, he told me he was celebrating with them on the weekend. Told me he would see me today too,” you said anxiously, biting at the corners of your nails.
“Stop that,” Danny warned, pulling your hands away from your mouth.
It was a habit you seemed to have only picked up only recently, and Danny was always quick to stop it as soon as he saw you begin to nibble at the uneven edges of the nail.
“You’re right, ‘s a bit worrying. I would be pretty worried as well. Did he go out last night?” Danny asked.
“No.” You were beginning to feel more and more nervous, anxiety flooding through your body as you wondered what was going on.
You suddenly stood, “I think I’m gonna go over to his place. Maybe he’s just been sleeping all day.”
Danny glanced at his watch and grimaced when he saw that it was 5pm. He refrained from telling you he highly doubted it, not wanting to worry you any further.
“Shit,” you cursed as you looked out the window and saw that it was absolutely pouring with rain. You hurried to your bedroom to find a raincoat.
“Let me drive you,” Danny suggested, his voice now coming from his own room as he grabbed himself a sweater. You both emerged from your rooms and met in the hallway, and before you could protest he added, “Please. I don’t feel good knowing you’re driving in this weather.”
You scoffed, “Underestimating my driving skills, Wagner?” You carried the gifts you had bought Otis, including the bouquet of flowers into the living room with you and placed them on the table next to your handbag.
“Maybe,” Danny teased and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.
It took less than five minutes to gather your things. The bouquet of flowers, a few small wrapped gifts, and your handbag. Once you had hastily gotten your things in order, Danny grabbed his car keys off the table and opened the front door for you.
“Need me to hold anything?” he asked, watching in amusement as you fumbled with the flowers, presents, your bag and your phone.
You laughed, “Yes please.”
He took the flowers and a few gifts from your arms and you both descended the long, winding stairs wordlessly until you were in the shared car park.
“I’m sure it’s all fine,” Danny assured he held the door open for you to get into the car.
“Yeah me too. Just really wanna see him, you know?” You immediately regretted saying it once the words left your mouth.
You usually tried to keep the Otis conversation minimal with Danny, knowing that he didn’t really like him. Danny hummed anyway, despite his disagreement, and started the car before reversing out of the garage. He handed you your favourite Beatles CD for you to put into the stereo while he drove, and you felt overwhelmingly appreciative of his attentiveness.
You wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, and that Otis just hadn't had a chance to look at his phone yet. But with each mile closer to Otis’s apartment, the pit in your stomach grew heavier, and the knot in your chest tighter. Each time you checked your phone, there was no new message. No missed calls. Nothing.
Throughout the drive, it was clear to you that Danny was trying his hardest to keep you from overthinking. You felt like he didn’t stop talking for the majority of the ride, telling you about the latest disagreement between Josh and Jake and how he, like usual, had to save the day with his mediation skills. He managed to make you laugh too, always knowing just what you needed when you weren’t feeling your absolute best.
You had to direct Danny the way there, which was quite difficult thanks to the bucketing rain that restricted visibility of anything twenty metres in front of you.
Eventually you made it to his apartment, and Danny pulled over on the side of the road to drop you off, seeing as there was no carpark for him to stop in.
“Alright, be safe please. Text if you need anything,” Danny recited, the words he told you each time you parted. It had been that way since you could remember.
“I will! Thanks for the lift!”
Balancing your things in your arms, you quickly jumped out of the car to not hold up and more traffic.
Danny drove off when one of the impatient cars behind him gave him a beep for taking so long. You rushed up to Otis’s apartment building front door, bullets of rain almost soaking you completely as you covered the short distance.
Your shoes splashed heavily on the street which had become one big puddle. You sighed when you finally reached the building, protected from the rain by the large overhang that wrapped around the large building.
As you made your way into the apartment and climbed the levels to his, you glanced at your phone once more to check if he had messaged you, and frowned when there was nothing. A little puffed, you finally reached his unit. Before you knocked, you peeked a glance at the crack at the bottom of the door where a light was being through. So he was home.
You bit back a shiver as you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell. You always liked the tune Otis’s doorbell made. It was quite unconventional, not the normal tune they made and not a jarring ring either, but a nice melody all the same.
You hugged yourself tightly in the cold as you awaited a response, and when you didn’t get one, you rang the doorbell again. Finally, the front door swung open, and you were met with Otis, his slim figure on full display as only a pair of white and blue striped boxers hung low on his hips.
You smiled brightly, despite his state of sundress and the fact that he had neglected speaking to you all day. “Happy birthday!” you exclaimed.
He shot you a quick, tight smile, before his face turned serious, eyes scanning the scene behind you. “Thank you Baby, but uh… what are you doing here?” he asked.
You faltered, “What do you mean?”
He looked at you as if you had done something ridiculous, “Well we didn’t plan anything. I hadn’t exactly said you could come over.”
You took a step back into the hallway, “Oh, I just thought that…”
You were mortified. But you were also incredibly upset. It was his birthday, but you had still felt some kind of obligation that he at least see you on the special day. He was your boyfriend after all.
“I got worried. You weren’t responding,” you explained, feeling a deep set frown fall to your face.
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and you suddenly became very aware of his positioning. He was standing in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame and letting the door hang almost closed behind him while he stepped marginally closer in each moment and effectively backed you further away from the entrance.
“Yeah well, I just got caught up in something.”
Just as you were about to ask what, a slender hand, adorning deep red acrylic nails raked across his bare abdomen.
“Baby, what’s taking you so long?” a sultry voice asked, and you could see longer dark hair peeking behind his body.
Unable to beleive your eyes, your mouth parted in silent shock, face dropping in realisation, and you peered over his shoulder to see the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, clad in only her underwear behind him.
Blinking, you watched as his face morphed into course red embarrassment, and his eyes widened in fear.
“Oh,” you stated.
“No Baby, it’s not what it-” he started, moving towards you to take your arm.
“Stop it. Don’t,” you shook his hands off you, “Don’t touch me.”
Tears instantly welled in your eyes and the lump in your throat felt like it was going to choke you.
“Wha- why?” you managed to choke out. He looked at you sympathetically, but before he could open his mouth, the woman behind him appeared at his side.
If you thought her face was gorgeous, her body was bound to make you pass out. Her breasts were full and round, and her slim, toned waist was a beautiful compliment. Her hips widened at just the right spot, and were void of dips or stretch marks, and it suddenly became glaringly obvious to you where everything had gone wrong.
She gave you a harsh look up and down, assessing your clothing and you could only assume your body. Your arms crossed over your front in insecurity, now regretting the old coat, faded jeans and casual shoes you had thrown on in your state of worry and anticipation.
You hiccuped a sob back when she placed a hand on his chest and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. Otis, to his credit, looked wildly uncomfortable by her actions and tried to shrug her off, looking at you pleadingly.
You couldn’t see any more. You couldn’t stand there for another second longer or you were going to explode.
You wished you were more angry. You should have been furious, yelling at him and ripping your keys out to key his car. But instead, you felt a deep pit of sadness in your belly. The type of pit that drags everything down with it. The type of pit that consumes all it can from its host just to continue its relentless torment.
You needed to get the fuck out of there.
Breathing turned shakey, you turned and walked so quickly down the hallway that you thought you were going to pull a hamstring.
Otis called your name from behind you, and you thanked the Gods that he was too naked to follow you. You descended the stairs in a daze, hot tears running down your cheeks, but you were too focused on getting out that you knew you needed to hold them back.
Once you made it to the building's exit, you realised that you were still cradling the birthday presents you had bought him. In an act of anger, you stormed out of the complex and threw them in a heap onto the grass beside the door, letting all the money you had wasted on him get destroyed under the unforgiving downpour of rain.
Then you realised you were also in the rain. And you were getting soaked. You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up Danny’s contact to call him.
Restricted sobs began to shake your body, and you were having an incredibly hard time maintaining your composure, if you could even call it that anymore.
The phone only rang twice before Danny’s voice spoke through the speakers.
“Hey, what’s up,” he answered casually. You could hear his car keys hitting the little key bowl you had by the front door, indicating he had quite literally just gotten home, making you feel even worse about asking him to come and pick you up.
He called your name in question when you didn’t respond.
“Did you- did you just get home?” you asked, trying feebly to conceal the emotion in your voice, but the sobs and sharp inhales did close to nothing in helping.
“Fuck, are you okay? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, and you could hear the keys jingle again, accompanied by the front door slamming shut.
“I’m,” you tried to say through broken sobs, “I’m okay. I just need- can you come and pick me up? Ple- please?”
“I’m already on my way.” True to his word, you could hear the engine vibrating in the background of the call. “Please tell me what happened. Are you safe?” he asked frantically.
You nodded, before realising that he couldn’t actually see you, “I’m- I’m okay. Just cold,” you began scanning the area, looking for a spot you could stand that was concealed from the rain.
There was no way you were going back inside the complex building, and you quickly realised that your best bet was a tree nearby. You hastily made your way over, sneakers getting ruined in the dirt, each step accompanied by a squelch. The rain wasn’t as relentless under the cover in the tree, but thick drops still fell and coated your skin, hair and clothes. You were shivering violently now, wondering why on earth you hadn’t brought an umbrella.
"Where are you?" Danny's voice was soft but laced with concern.
"Same place you dropped me off," you muttered, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. It wasn't hard to guess that Danny probably knew something had gone wrong with Otis. But you could bet he'd never imagine the full extent of it.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could sense Danny was biting his tongue, holding back from asking the questions swirling in his mind. He knew better than to press you when you were like this, though. Whatever had happened, it wasn't good. That much was obvious.
"Okay, honey, I’m nearly there. Can you try taking some deep breaths while you wait for me, please?" His voice was steady, trying to ground you through the phone. It was only then that you became aware of the sound of your own ragged, gasping sobs.
"Ye-yes... okay." You forced yourself to breathe deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, but each inhale felt heavy, the weight of your chest pressing down harder with every beat of your racing heart. You tried to follow Danny's request, but every time your pulse began to slow, your mind betrayed you. You couldn't stop the image from flashing in your head, those sharp red acrylic nails raking across his chest.
Your stomach churned, nausea rising as you cursed your vivid imagination. What would those hands look like wrapped around his neck, or worse, holding his hand? What would those nails look like tracing against his skin, trailing down his back in the heat of the moment as she whispered his name in his ear? The thought made your blood run cold, and tears welled up in your eyes once again.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thoughts to vanish. But they clung to you, persistent and cruel, reminding you of everything you were afraid to face. It wasn’t just the physical imagery, either. It was the emotional betrayal of the way his eyes might soften when he looked at her, the way he might laugh at her jokes. She probably made him feel something you couldn’t. And he had probably been slipping away for quite some time.
A broken sob escaped your lips, and you clenched your fists at your sides, wishing you could stop thinking about it, wishing you could stop hurting. You knew Danny was close, but the minutes felt like hours. You hated how powerless you felt, sitting there, cold and waiting, suffocated by your own thoughts.
“It’s okay. Whatever it is it’s okay it’ll be okay. I’m nearly there, just hang on a little longer for me, okay?” Danny repeated, hearing your breathing pick up again.
You crouched on the dirt to hug some warmth into you, humming in response to his question. “Danny, can you- can you put the heat on in the car… please. I’m really cold,” you asked and you immediately heard him shuffle with the knobs on the dashboard.
“Are you- are you in the rain?” he asked with urgency.
“I was… I’m standing under a tree now.”
He sighed, “Okay I’m rounding the corner now, can you see me?” he asked and you looked up at the road. True to his word, you could see his black car nearing you as it sped down the road.
“Yes.” You got up and quickly walked to the edge of the street. The rain soaked you again, and you abandoned even attempting to cover your head from its assault.
He pulled up to you at record breaking speed, and breaked harshly beside you on the road. You swung the door open and practically fell into the passenger seat, being immediately engulfed by the warmth of the car.
You slammed the door shut, and muttered a small ‘sorry’ through your shudders as you did up your seat belt.
Being a busy street, Danny had to take off as soon as you were buckled up, and you looked down at the water dripping off your shoes into the car.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he commented, as you tried to take off your top jacket to avoid completely soaking his seats.
“I’m sorry,” you apologised, trying to keep your back from the seat to not soak the interior of his car. He had already given you a lift to and from Otis’s house, and the least you could do was not ruin his car in the process. You were trying your hardest to withhold the sobs, but hot tears mixed with the wetness of your face as the lump in your throat began to burn.
“Honey…” Danny comforted when he saw your emotional state. He found the closest quiet street and pulled over on the side of the road.
As soon as the handbrake was on and the car was in neutral, Danny turned to you, clipping off his seatbelt to reach you better. He reached to unclip your seatbelt too, and without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms.
Though it had been steadily trickling since you left Otis’s house, the dam completely broke when you felt the familiar and comforting embrace of Danny. He rubbed soothing strokes up and down your soaked back with a soft flat palm, his hand shuddering against each shaky breath you took.
“Are you hurt? I need to know you’re okay, physically,” he asked, still keeping you tight in his arms.
“I’m not hurt. I’m okay,” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt behind his back.
“Shhh,” he cooed as your sobs continued, “What’s going on? What happened?”
You pulled away from him, slipping back into your seat and wiping furiously at your red and wet eyes. “There was,” you shuddered, “There was a woman,” you explained, eyes now trained on the window wipers that feebly tried to push away the waves of water that fell from the sky, “They were both naked.”
“What?” The volume of his voice was jarring in the otherwise silence of the car. You dared not speak, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Danny had warned you that Otis wasn’t a good person, but you had ignored him, and you were now putting the weighted burden of your mistake on his shoulders.
Danny ran a frustrated hand through his hair and you kept your eyes before you, silent tears now running down your cheeks.
“She’s really pretty,” you added, and Danny eyed you carefully. He stared at you for a long time, as if trying to see through your skin and into your brain to read every thought that was running through your mind. When he couldn't find anything other than self-loathing and depreciation, he ran a hand through his hair.
“I- fuck I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
You shook in the cold as you stared out the window, unspeaking as silent tears rolled down your cheeks. When he realised you weren’t going to respond, he turned in his seat again and popped the car back into gear before he continued the drive home. He was watching your body shake violently from the cold and knew that as much as he wanted to hold you until you were better, you needed to get out of your wet clothes and into something warm and dry.
“Don't do that,” Danny said, pulling your thumb away from your mouth as you attacked the skin around it.
“‘M sorry,” you muttered with a sniffle, pulling your hands to your lap and fiddling with your fingers instead.
“Don’t apologise.”
You were quiet for the rest of the ride. You replayed the moment over and over in your mind, looking back on how he had blatantly told you that he didn't want you there, that you weren’t invited. All because there was another woman. Had she always been there? Was she just a one night stand or had he been cheating on you for longer?
Danny bit his cheek each time he heard you sniffle, every small sound cutting through him like a knife. He glanced over at you, watching as you hastily wiped your eyes, your fingers trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. The sight of you in pain made his chest ache, and every time your hand darted up to your face, he wished he could reach out, pull you close, and wipe your tears away for you. But he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to smother you when you were clearly teetering on the edge.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he navigated the darkening streets, the quiet hum of the car engine doing nothing to soothe the thick tension in the air. You sat next to him, staring out the window, barely moving, but he could see the steady stream of tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. They glistened in the streetlights as you passed them, and he wanted to say something, anything, but he knew no words could fix what you were feeling.
The ride home felt agonisingly long, each second dragging on as Danny tried to focus on the road and not the heart-wrenching sight of you unravelling beside him. He kept biting his cheek, hard enough to taste blood now, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at you every few seconds, praying you’d somehow find a little bit of peace before they made it home.
When Danny finally rolled into the parking spot, the familiarity of your apartment complex looming ahead causerd the tears that had slowed for a brief moment on the drive started to pour again, the sight of home making everything worse. The thought of being so close to your bed, to the space where you could collapse and let yourself fully break was overwhelming.
Your breath hitched, and you hugged your arms around yourself, trying to stop the shivering that had taken over your body. The cold had seeped into your bones, making you shake uncontrollably, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the freezing rain that had soaked through your clothes or the sadness that seemed to settle deep in your chest.
Danny killed the engine and turned to you, eyes soft and full of worry. “Let’s get you inside, okay?” His voice was gentle, but the concern was clear. He didn’t wait for you to respond, opening his door quickly and jogging around to your side, pulling open the passenger door.
“Come on, I’ve got you,” he murmured, offering his hand to help you out of the car. You hesitated for just a second, but the exhaustion in your body won out, and you took his hand, letting him guide you. As you stepped out, your legs wobbled beneath you, and without a second thought, Danny wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.
You leaned against him, your sobs becoming louder now that you were out of the confined space of the car. His warmth was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tidal wave of emotion that had hit you. As he helped you up the steps to the apartment, you clung to his sweater, your cold fingers digging into the fabric as if you could hold onto him and stop yourself from spiralling.
Each step felt heavy, the weight of your sadness pressing down on you like a physical force, and you stumbled a little as you climbed. Danny tightened his grip on you, steadying you with every step, whispering quiet reassurances even though he wasn’t sure you could hear them over the sound of your own sobbing.
You weren’t crying for any reason now, yet it felt like your emotional capacity was a heavy ball that had been pushed off a hill. Once it started rolling, you couldn't stop.
Once inside, the warmth of the apartment hit you, but it did nothing to thaw the ice in your bones. You barely registered Danny closing the door behind you, his arm still around your shoulders as he led you deeper into the space. Despite his support, your mind had already begun its familiar descent into destructive thoughts. If Otis didn’t want you, then who would? The rejection felt like a punch to the gut, and the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.
Without a word, you pulled away from Danny, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately but ignoring it as you left him standing in the middle of the living room alone. You made a beeline for your bedroom, your body moving on autopilot. The door clicked shut behind you, and even though there wasn’t a lock, you knew Danny wouldn’t come in. He respected your space, your boundaries, but that knowledge only made the ache in your chest deepen. The loneliness pressed in harder, suffocating.
Inside the sanctuary of your room, you didn’t care that you were drenched to the bone, or that your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably. The cold had long since numbed your skin, and now it was creeping into your muscles, making your limbs ache with a dull, persistent throb. You shivered violently, your teeth chattering so hard they ached, but it was a distant sensation compared to the emotional storm raging inside you.
You toed off your soaked shoes, not even bothering to untie them properly. Normally, the thought of tracking dirt or water onto your bed would have horrified you as your bed was your sacred space, always spotless, always prepared for sleep in clean pyjamas after a long shower. But tonight, none of that mattered. Your mind was too far gone, too consumed by the thoughts that swirled around relentlessly.
You crawled onto the bed without a second thought, the damp sheets immediately sticking to your wet clothes. The fabric clung to your skin, cold and uncomfortable, but it didn’t register. All you could think about was curling into the tightest ball possible, as if making yourself small enough would somehow make the pain disappear.
The sobs wracked your body violently, each one more painful than the last. You pressed your face into the pillow, muffling the sound, but it didn’t stop the flood of tears from soaking the fabric. Your whole body trembled, not just from the cold, but from the anguish that had taken over.
And still, despite the physical discomfort, despite the relentless sobbing, your mind couldn’t stop fixating on Otis. You kept replaying every word he’d said, every look, every action that made you feel like you weren’t enough. You kept thinking about how he didn’t want you, how he didn’t choose you. That gut wrenching feeling of rejection echoed through you like a broken record, and no matter how much you tried to push it away, it lingered.
But it wasn't the loss of Otis that hurt you so much as the feeling of being left behind for someone better. Your self esteem had plummeted, all feelings of security and trust torn apart with no remorse.
Minutes passed, maybe longer, until you were dimly aware of the soft knock on your door, Danny’s voice coming through gently.
"Hey… I'm just gonna leave some dry clothes outside the door, okay?" he said, his voice calm but clearly worried. You didn’t respond, too lost in the flood of emotions, but you heard him shuffle around outside before retreating.
A little while later, Danny returned, seeing the pile of clothes left outside untouched. He called your name gently with a brush of his knuckles against the wood, “Can I come in?” he asked cautiously.
“No,” you called out, muffled in the pillows your face was buried in.
He hesitated in the silence. “I don’t- I think you need to get out of your wet clothes,” he commented, voice still quiet behind the door. “You might get sick.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult, I’ll do what I want,” you snapped.
You had no idea where that outburst had come from. You immediately felt guilty as you imagined how Danny would have recoiled at your words and tone of voice. It was glaringly obvious to both you and Danny that you were only acting hostile as a way to protect yourself. Protect the fragile feeling of trust you had so carefully maintained throughout your life.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that… you can come in,” you said so quietly, that Danny may not have even heard you.
Though with heavy caution, Danny reached down to twist the handle. He knew you didn't mean what you were saying. You were hurt, and had been betrayed in arguably the worst way someone could be. He knew you just needed someone to be in your corner.
You didn't dare look behind you at Danny as he entered your room, and instead kept your head buried in your pillows.
“Hey,” he whispered, and you felt the edge of your bed dip as he sat down. He reached out hesitantly, and put his warm palm on your bare arm. He flinched the feeling of your skin, chilled from your still soaked clothes. “Shit, you’re freezing,” he commented.
With your back still turned, you stared blankly into the plush pillows in front of you, your eyes fixated on the growing wet stain spreading across the fabric. You couldn’t distinguish if it was from your soaked hair or the relentless flow of tears that you had cried. Your pillowcase, usually soft and comforting, now felt cold and uninviting, just another reminder of the misery that clung to you like the dampness in your clothes.
Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, each one laboured as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to rise again. The wet patch in front of you seemed to expand with every tear, but you couldn’t muster the energy to wipe your face or even shift positions.
Everything felt heavy. Your body, your heart, your thoughts. It was as though the weight of everything Otis had said, everything you felt, was sinking into that single spot on the pillow, and no matter how long you stared, it wouldn’t disappear.
“Hey,” he carefully pulled you away from your thoughts. Sniffling, you rolled over to face him, and his heart ached at the sight of you. Eyes and lips swollen, red and raw from your crying, and incessant rubbing.
“Will you please change into something warmer?” he asked, eyes soft and genuine as he stared at you, his thumb stroking against the cold skin of your arm, “I can help you if you need,” he added. You sighed, hard and long before pushing yourself up from your bed into a sitting position.
“Fuckkk,” you groaned, letting your head fall into your hands as you groaned, “This is such a mess.”
You looked back up again, assessing the damage you had done to your bed, which carried the consequences of you collapsing in it while still wet. Danny got up quickly, taking the clothes he had left for you outside of your bedroom door and bringing them to you at the bed.
“I think a warm shower would do you good,” he suggested, “It’ll help you warm up quicker.” The thought of the warm water pouring over your tired and cold muscles seemed like heaven, but now that he was here, you didn't want Danny to leave.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, moving to get up from your bed. Danny rushed out of your bedroom and searched through your shared hallway cupboard for the softest towel he could find.
He watched as you slowly emerged from your bedroom, posture slumped and insecure, arms wrapped securely around your body. Your jeans and top clung to your body tightly from the slick, and your hair left a wet residue on your neck.
“I can put the towel in the dryer for you while you shower. That way when you get out it’ll be nice and warm,” he suggested. His attention to detail made you smile.
Though his offer was kind, you knew what you wanted more than a warm towel. The thought that came into your mind was absurd, and could very possibly make Danny uncomfortable by crossing the boundaries of your friendship that you had both treaded in all those years. But you didn’t want- you couldn’t be left alone, or you feared you would curl up onto the cold tile floors and cry until you died.
“What's up?” he asked, hand raising to the side of your face to thumb away the remaining tears left on your cheeks. You glanced up at him shyly, trying to reign the confidence to ask him the question.
He frowned at the look of conflict on your face as you debated with yourself, “Hey. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that,” he offered with a kind smile. That same smile that had dried your tears too many times over the years, “‘S only me.”
You took a deep breath, “I just… I don’t know how to say this. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I want- I’m scared of being left alone again,” you admitted though still skirting around the truth of your sudden discomfort.
“I won't ever leave you alone, you know that. I’m always here for you,” he comforted, stroking your wet hair away from your face in a way that felt so intimate, so domestic, that you nearly began to cry again.
“Will- um, will you come with me?” you added in a mumble, cheeks heating at your question.
He cocked his head in confusion, “Come with you where?”
You swallowed thickly in embarrassment, physically unable to say the words. You were ready to dismiss it, and tell him it didn't matter when realisation struck his face.
“You mean… come with you to shower?” he asked, surprise reigning his features at your admittance.
You were a fool. You had just ruined the relationship you had with your boyfriend, and you were already on track to do the same with your best friend.
“I- I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I suggested that, seriously, just forget it, I-”
“No, no, stop. I… I’m happy to… if uh, if that’s what you need,” Danny answered, his heart thumping in his chest at your suggestion. This was a boundary that neither of you had ever crossed. Sure you had seen each other close to nakedness before, but only by pure accident or in the form of skimpy swimwear.
Both of you knew that doing this was different. Even suggesting it had changed something between the two of you, and it had brought to life the truth that you had both been hiding beneath platonic smiles for your whole lives.
You couldn't look at him, and instead looked at the towel he held tightly in his hands, “Are you sure?” you asked quietly.
Jaw tight and eyes cautious, he nodded silently. “You go and get started, and I’ll uh, join you in a minute, okay?” he suggested and you tucked a tuft of hair behind your ear.
“Okay,” you whispered. As you turned to walk away, nerves swelling in your stomach at your decision, Danny cleared his throat again.
"Are you... do you want me to keep my... um, boxers on?" Danny’s voice was as gentle as ever, like slow dripping honey that coated each word with the tenderness you had come to depend on. It was just Danny, always so considerate, always thinking of how to make you feel comfortable, especially in moments as vulnerable as this.
The question, though spoken with the utmost care, still startled you. Your heart skipped, and you felt a small flutter of uncertainty rise in your chest. You feared that whatever answer you gave might lead to discomfort, but there was a deep, aching need inside you to be close to him. Closer than you had ever been before. Something unspoken tugged at you, a silent yearning to connect with him in a way that transcended the physical.
"If you want. But I don't mind if you don't," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended, as if afraid the wrong words might break the fragile atmosphere.
Before he could respond, you turned and made your way down the hallway to the bathroom, the soft patter of your footsteps against the floor the only sound echoing in the quiet apartment. You gently swung the bathroom door shut, leaving it ajar just enough to let him know that he was welcome. You twisted the shower tap, letting the heavy stream of hot water fill the shower, the sound of it pounding against the tile, a soothing background hum that drowned out the noise in your mind.
Your clothes clung stubbornly to your body as you peeled them off, each article of fabric a reminder of the evening's cold and the emotions that had seeped into your bones. The chill in the air bit at your exposed skin, and a violent shiver racked your body, leaving you trembling as you stood naked in the dim bathroom. You barely spared a glance in the mirror, catching only a fleeting, distorted reflection of yourself, a body that tonight, felt uglier than it ever had. The blotchy redness from your sobs clashed with the paleness of your cold skin, and you looked away quickly, unable to face the image.
Stepping into the shower, you sighed deeply as the hot water cascaded over your head, the sensation washing away the lingering chill. It was a simple pleasure, the heat sinking into your scalp, down your neck, and through your entire body. You tipped your head back, allowing the water to flow over your face, burning just enough to be distracting, before it slid down your shoulders and over the curve of your breasts. For a brief, blissful moment, you forgot about Otis, the heartbreak, the insecurity, everything.
Danny's soft footsteps padding into the bathroom snapped you back to reality, and your heart gave a nervous flutter as you saw his silhouette through the thin shower curtain. You turned your back to him, yet could still feel his presence as he shuffled with his things by the countertop, your senses heightened by the silence in the room. As he approached, the shower curtain shifted slightly, letting in a sliver of cool air that made you shiver again, but this time not entirely from the cold.
Wordlessly, you stepped forward, making room for him under the stream of water, and you heard his deep, contented exhale as the warmth enveloped him. You felt a shy smile tug at your lips, though you didn’t dare turn around. The thought of exposing yourself fully to him was daunting, even though you had never felt safer with anyone else.
Reaching up, you grabbed the bottle of vanilla shampoo, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggled to maintain your composure. But before you could open the bottle, you felt Danny’s warmth behind you, not close enough to touch, but enough for you to feel his steady, comforting force and hot, heavy breath by your ear. He reached over your shoulder, his hand brushing yours as he gently took the bottle from you. The touch was brief, but electric, sending a ripple of warmth through your chest.
"Let me," he offered, his breath tickling the skin beside your ear. The shampoo bottle clicked open, the scent of vanilla filling the air as Danny lathered up the shampoo by rubbing it between his large hands.
You stood still, your heart pounding in your chest as his hands moved to your head, slowly threading into your locks and pressing to your scalp. His fingers were strong but somehow gentle as ever, working the shampoo into your scalp in slow, deliberate motions, in a way that made your knees weak. You let out a whispered groan, the sound escaping before you could stop it as your body relaxed under his touch.
This was no longer just about getting clean; this was something else entirely. The both of you, stood there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, and yet there was no awkwardness and no sense of pressure or expectation. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t entirely platonic either. It was something deeper, something built on years of quiet affection, of love that had been waiting patiently for the right moment to reveal itself.
You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as he continued to wash your hair. His fingers traced soothing patterns against your scalp, moving with such care that you felt your chest ache with emotion. This wasn’t just an act of kindness. It was love. Pure, unspoken, and unconditional.
He soon rinsed his hands under the water, and touched your shoulder gently as he pulled you back under the stream. He aided with washing the shampoo out of your hair with his hands, running through your scalp and squeezing at your hair as the soapy suds travelled down your hair and down to his feet.
You had completely forgotten about Otis, you realised, as Danny reached up to grab the bottle of conditioner, doing the same as before but only raking the product through the ends of your hair.
Your breathing was heavy, and you suddenly felt the urge to cry again, but not out of sadness this time. You turned around to face him, feeling no insecurity over the exposure of your bare body when his burning gaze remained on your face.
“Danny…” you started, frowning at the overwhelming feeling of your new realisation. Your face told him everything he needed to know, eyebrows pinched in desperation, and tears brimming at your eyes. He had always felt a way for you that he couldn’t act upon, and only now did he see that you could finally feel it too.
He reached up and cupped your cheek, “I know, sweet girl.” He nodded, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek lovingly, and you leaned into his touch. When he let go, you dropped your head, hanging it low between your bodies, your eyes closed in exhaustion.
Danny stepped forward slowly, his feet splashing against the pool of water at your feet, and he engulfed you in the embrace of his long arms. Your head fell into the spot between his arm and chest, and that same arm came up to cradle your head. You could feel his other bare arm on your back, your breasts pressed against his chest and you flushed at the proximity.
You desperately tried to hold him too, arms wrapped around his abdomen and folded up to hook your hands over his shoulders. You didn't notice the tears that flowed from your eyes, as they became one with the water that flowed between you both.
“Danny,” you whispered. He nuzzled into your hair, a comforting gesture that made your heart race.
“Hmm?” he replied softly, encouraging you to continue. The moment hung heavy in the air, filled with unspoken feelings.
The feeling was so overwhelming, that you realised you could no longer pretend to be just friends, as the desire to love him loudly completely consumed you.
Finally, you spoke, your confession bursting forth like a long held secret, “I think I love you.” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, a rush of emotion that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
You felt his stomach tighten at your words, and he pulled back slightly to gaze down at you. You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes to see them pleading in wonder. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For so long, he had admired the beauty of your soul in silence, waited in suppressed agony, fearing that revealing his feelings would push you away. Your company was always enough for him to keep his feelings hidden, as just being near you to hear your laughter, your mind and your soul, had been more than enough.
But now, you were uttering the words he had dreamt of telling you for what felt like his whole life.
“Always,” he whispered, his sincerity washing over you like a warm embrace. He tucked your wet hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I always have.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his for confirmation. “What?” you managed to ask, your voice breaking. Instead of answering, Danny leaned down, closing the distance between you, and held his face close to yours. He lingered for a moment, as if giving you time to pull away, before he brought his lips to yours in a gentle caress.
His lips were soft and slow against yours, hesitant and testing at the new sensation. Neither of you could believe what was happening, and you marvelled at the intimacy of the moment, the tenderness. Never would you have thought this would be how you ended up, and now that it was happening, there was no going back.
Danny's hands rested hesitantly beside you, ghosting your skin as he resisted the urge to touch you, as he was painfully aware of your state of undress and didn't want to cross any boundaries. You took them into your own hands, and pulled them to rest on the sides of your waist. He gripped the skin softly at the sensation.
You mouths explored each other, and you reached your hands up to tangle in his hair as you revelled in the new feeling. It felt as if you had searched every corner of Danny, as your years of friendship had taught you things about him even his family didn't know, yet this was unexplored territory.
Danny pulled away with a deep inhale, and he took in the sight of your flushed face, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. A small smile crept onto his face at his realisation of what had just happened.
“You’re so beautiful, d’ you know that?” he whispered, hand gliding up and down the curve of your waist. You looked down shyly, at both the complement and your own understanding of what had just happened.
“You are too,” you mumbled quietly, a blush tinting your cheeks. You could no longer look at Danny without your heart exploding, and when he smiled a bit wider at your words, you turned back around, reaching for the body wash and fiddling with the cap.
Danny was more hesitant to offer helping you clean your body than he was your hair, ever considerate of your boundaries. You had both taken huge steps in mere minutes, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel rushed.
You of course knew this, and decided that your bold streak hadn’t ended yet. “Would you… help me with this one too?” you asked quietly, turning to look up at Danny through your lashes.
“Anything,” he answered with a nod, taking the bottle from your hands gently and pouring the soapy substance over his hands. You could tell he was still hesitant, the act of touching you was clearly daunting for him, and you tried your best to show him you were okay. You nodded at him to go ahead, and he gingerly reached his hands to your shoulders, massaging the product over them, pulling your arms out horizontally so that he could lather it across them too.
Avoiding the obvious, his hands dragged back up your arms and to your back. You turned for him, letting his strong fingers knead into your muscles, making you hum in approval, head dropping forward at the feeling. He tucked your hair over your right shoulder to move it out of his way. His hands travelled over the expanse of your back, fingers dipping into your dimples of venus, but not treading any further before he pulled them back up, running long stripes either side of your spine.
His hands travelled around your waist then, and you turned again for him as the warmth of his hands spread over your stomach, sides and ribs, hesitating just below your breasts.
Your stomach flipped as you became aware now that his gaze was not holding its respectful attachment to your face, and was now all over your chest, trying to touch you anywhere but there.
You bit your cheek, and slowly reached up to take his hand that was settled on your ribs into yours. His eyes flicked to yours as you dragged his hand up your body and rested it on your breast.
“It’s okay,” you told him. To say that these moments were not entirely sexual anymore would be untrue. And you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t caught glimpses of his situation down below, despite your efforts to keep your gaze above his waist.
Breath heavy, and feeling like he would pass out any moment, Danny tenderly ran his hands over your breasts, rounding at the swell and dipping in the valley as he lathered them in the soap. He wasn't hasty to move on, but he didn’t linger for too long, letting you know that he did not expect anything sexual from you. As he washed your upper half, you scrubbed at your bottom, running the soap in your hands over your legs and behind, to speed up the process.
Danny pulled you back under the stream, and quickly rejected your offer to wash him the same.
“You’re exhausted, and I’m worried if you spend another minute in the steam you’ll pass out,” he said with a teasing smile, half joking. You frowned at his words.
“I’m not exhausted, I can do it.”
“Honey…” he started, lifting your arm and showcasing your hands which were trembling without support.
You huffed at his consideration. “Okay, fine… if you’re sure.”
He smiled at you, his hand on your hip squeezing gently, “I am.” He dipped down and gave you a quick peck on the lips, the act startling you, as you had almost forgotten the events that just occurred between the two of you. As if you weren't just guiding his hand to your breasts. As if he weren’t standing before you in those moments, with an obviously painful erection.
You gave him one last smile before you pulled the shower curtain open and stepped out. The cold slapped you in the face and you were quick to shut the curtain behind you to keep Danny warm. Picking up your towel and wrapping it around your body was a beautiful reprieve from the biting cold, and when you looked out of the fogged glass of the bathroom window, you could tell that the rain outside was just as relentless as it was before.
You listened to foamy soap hit the floor as Danny washed through his own hair while you collected your hairbrush and other essentials, before you silently slipped out of the bathroom door, not bothering to close it all the way behind you.
Your mood now soaring at heights unimaginable, you padded to your bedroom, a small smile on your face as you thought back on the intimacy of the moments you had just shared. When you stepped into your bedroom though, you were reminded of the mess that was your life.
Your bed was soaked, sheets and pillows bore big wet patches and you were sure the moisture had soaked through to your mattress too. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, before deciding what to do. You shuffled through your pyjama drawers and picked out some long plaid pants along with a white singlet and a hoodie. You changed quickly, not wanting the warmth of your body to succumb to the cold again, and once you were changed, you walked back out of your room and into the living room, where you set up camp on the couch.
Meanwhile, Danny was running his hands through his wet locks, the water cascading down his face as he replayed those moments over and over again in his mind. He had waited for you for so long. Loved you in silence for so long. And it was all worth it.
Once he left the shower he wrapped the last towel around his waist, squeezing the wetness out of his hair and leaving it otherwise to air dry.
As he left the bathroom, he could hear you humming softly in the living room, and he passed his room to see you again. Danny watched in admiration at you, dressed comfortably while you typed and scrolled on your phone, cross legged on the couch, Your wet hair hung down your back, but your sweater protected you from the cold this time.
He frowned when he saw the couch, set up in a way he could only assume was your attempt to sleep on it.
The sound of his arrival got your attention, “Hey, I’m ordering Thai delivery,” you said, eyes still trained on your phone as you typed in your card details.
Danny smiled warmly at you, “Great, thanks… um, what’s all this?” he asked, hands gesturing to the makeshift bed you had set up on the couch. Although just seeing him completely naked, and having that naked body pressed against your own, you stifled at the sight of him with only a towel around his waist.
You cleared your throat and averted your gaze, “Oh, my bed is really wet from… you know, lying on it earlier.”
He shook his head, “No, you aren’t sleeping on the couch. I have a double, you can sleep with me.” He immediately blushed at the alternate innuendo his words held, “Not like sleep together, just you know, go to sleep,” he tripped over his words anxiously, making you force back a smile.
“Are you sure? I’m fine to-”
“Yes I’m sure. One hundred percent,” he assured quickly before he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, “I mean, we did just shower together.”
Now it was your turn to blush, and you looked back to your phone to hide your face, agreeing quietly.
Danny retreated to his room to get into his pyjamas, and quickly tidied the space up, feeling self conscious at the state his room was in, shoving his clothes into his drawers haphazardly, and others he took to the laundry basket. Once he was satisfied, he returned to the living room.
He sat down beside you, his thigh brushing yours and you suddenly became insecure of where you both stood. Usually, it would be normal to sit so close together, laughing and chatting through movies, but now, things were different. You didn't want to come across as pushy and rushed, but similarly didn't want to do the opposite, act cold or distant after the moments you had shared.
If Danny was having the same fears, he didn’t let it show, as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer to him while he leaned over to reach for the TV remote with a grunt.
“Watcha wanna watch?”
You and Danny settled on the first movie you could, only pausing to get your takeout delivery from the door, before you returned to your position, which seemed to be steadily moving closer to Danny with each reposition or shuffle.
By the time the film was over and your bellies were full, you were exhausted. You had been emotionally wrecked throughout the day, ranging from betrayal and heartbreak, to renewal and love.
Danny steadied you by your elbow as you stood, helping you gather your things to take to his room. You were too sleepy to feel nervous.
“Which side do you sleep on?” you asked as you stood by the doorway.
Danny scratched the back of his head, “Usually the right, but I don't mind. I move around a lot when I sleep anyway.” Truth be told, Danny rathered that you slept on his side, as he knew that his pillow would smell like you by morning.
It apparently didn't matter though, as when you slipped under the covers of the left side of the bed beside him, his senses were overwhelmed with you. Your smell, your energy and your heat. It also wasn’t long before the two of you closed the distance between you, arms and legs tangled in your attempts to be impossibly closer to one another, your fronts pressed together just like the moments you shared in the shower.
It all felt so normal. You attributed it to being friends for your whole lives, giving you the ability to close emotional distance without second thought, but it was still startling nonetheless.
“Thanks again for letting me sleep here, it’s definitely more comfortable than the couch,” you whispered, and he reached behind him to turn off the bedside lamp.
Now cloaked in darkness, you relied only on your hearing to navigate Danny beside you. The rain was still pouring outside the window, and in a way, it felt fitting as a reminder of your day. While a disastrous storm brewed outside, you were safe and warm with Danny at home.
“Maybe… maybe we could make it a regular thing?” Danny asked nervously. “You know, since you love me and all that,” he teased, trying to ease the tension of his suggestion. You groaned in embarrassment and buried your head into his chest, hearing his chuckles vibrate in his chest.
“I would like that very much, thank you.”
“Don't thank me. You have no idea how happy I am to have you with me like this right now.”
You sighed deeply, and decided it was your turn to tease. “And just how long have you felt this way for me, hm?”
Danny chuckled dryly but swallowed, hesitating to tell you in case it made things weird. He didn’t want you to feel that his friendship had ever been false, or as a ruse to gain your attention in that way.
His nose brushed against your forehead, “I’ve known for sure since eighth grade.” His statement was heavy, and it hung in the air wearily as he waited for you to respond.
You pulled your head away from him, “Eighth grade?! Danny… what- why didn’t you say anything?”
He sighed, “I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”
You understood, but wished he had told you sooner, as though you hadn’t ever realised it was quite love, you knew that you never would have turned away the idea of being with Danny like that.
“We wasted so much time,” you sighed.
“What? You mean you felt the same?” he asked, shock lacing his words as his hand tightened around your frame.
You nodded, “You’ve always treated me better than any boy I ever went out with. I just didn't think that- I didn't think that this was a possibility. I thought you were too good for that. Too-”
“Too good for what?”
“You know, like with your band and stuff. I don't know, I guess I thought you had more important people to see than me. I didn’t ever think you would- could actually see me like that,” you tried to explain.
Danny groaned, “Oh God. I’m never gonna live this down.”
Your brow creased in confusion, “What do you mean?”
“Sammy knew I liked you before I even did, used to tease me about it all the time. The three of them have watched me act like an idiot around you for years. I can't believe you thought that I was ‘too cool’ for you.” He chuckled, though regret laced the dry laugh.
You felt mild embarrassment at the thought that the boys, who you’d become close with the years that you knew Danny, were keeping the secret from you that would ultimately change your life indefinitely.
He whispered your name, pulling you from your thoughts, “I have always loved you. Nothing will ever change that.”
“I love you too,” you whispered, clutching his shirt in your hands as you shuffled incredibly closer to him. He smelt like Danny, the comfort you had grown to turn to after many years of safekeeping your heart.
“Goodnight, sweet girl.” You felt him kiss the top of your head, followed by the feeling of his nose nuzzling into your hair and sighing deeply.
“Goodnight Danny.”
As you welcomed the blankets of exhaustion over your spent body, Danny began to hum a familiar tune, his voice sounding distant in your haze of sleep. Soon, the song became unmistakably recognisable.
Because, by The Beatles. Your favourite song.
𓅪
Part 2
#gvf#danny wagner gvf#daniel robert wagner#danny gvf#danny wagner#daniel gvf#daniel wagner#danny wagner fic#greta van fleet one shot#danny greta van fleet#gretavanfleet#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet fic#greta van fic#greta van fluff#greta van angst#greta van fleet#gvf fic#gvf fanfiction#gvf fanfic#gvf fluff#gvf x reader
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Request -
Werewolf Taehyung × Human Reader
Reader who was on a forest trek with her friends , Taehyung attacks their camp only to find out reader as his mate and then he abducts her . Everybody thinks that she is dead but noone has the idea that she is actually in a cabin with her big wolf mate and call it Stockholm syndrome or maybe that mate string pull even reader falls for him after sometime . Please add a nswf part in this too maybe their marking , consummation of mate bond.
● Or alternate request-
Lycan Taehyung × omega reader
Taehyung was abandoned by his pack for being a Lycan ( they feared that he might overtake their alpha someday ) .
Taehyung who finds his mate oneday as they both fall in love but the pack of her mate doesn't agrees with their relationship as he is an abandoned wolf infact they even imprison his mate to prevent their mating and prevent further production of undesirable Lycan offsprings and hence they all face the wrath of a ferocious Lycan who finally puts and end to his and his mate's sufferings . They produce a happily ever lived after little Lycan family 🥺
You can choose any of them and sprinkle your own creativity to produce a masterpiece for us .
Title: dear mate!
pairing: werewolf taehyung x human!female reader
Genre: fantasy!AU, dark romance, paranormal romance, forced proximity, mate bond
Word count: 3.2k
Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of non-consensual situations, manipulation, intense power dynamics, physical dominance, and possessive behavior, which may be distressing or triggering for some readers. It also includes explicit sexual content, references to forced bonding, and emotional/psychological manipulation. Reader discretion is advised.
a/n: Hey, Lovely anon! First of all thanks for the ask and I’m really sorry for taking so long to get back to you. I just saw your ask, and your ideas are seriously amazing! I ended up wanting to work on both of them, but I know it took me a while and you might be upset with me. I tried to keep it under 1k words, but I ended up around 3k because the plot you gave me was so thick! I've been super busy with my studies, which is why it took longer than I thought. I apologize in advance if you don’t like what I wrote. I’d love to work on the other idea too if you’re still interested, but I totally understand if you’re not after reading this. I hope you can forgive me if I made your reading experience worse.Thanks for your patience! I really appreciate it! :)
You ran.
As fast as you could.
As fast as your feet would carry you.
But no matter how fast you ran, he was faster. The massive figure of the wolf, who had just killed your friends before your eyes, pounced on you from behind, knocking the breath from your lungs as you both hit the forest floor. You screamed and thrashed, swinging your fists, scrambling to get up, get away, trying to free yourself, but a heavy weight pressed down on you, pinning you to the ground.
You felt warm breath, along with thick, slick saliva coating your neck. A guttural growl followed, low and menacing. You froze, heart pounding in your chest, waiting for the death blow that never came.
Then you felt it—the faint shift of something, followed by the low whisper of mine. The words were a low growl, more human than animal. The presence behind you was as human as it was inhuman, but the hint of humanity did nothing to soothe you. Instead, it only heightened the bubbling anxiety in your stomach. You twisted beneath him, trying to see your attacker, but all you caught in the darkness was the glimpse of piercing yellow eyes—so ethereal, so beautiful, so intense. They set your soul ablaze.
"Dear mate," he whispered with a chuckle, and just like that, everything went black.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
You woke up. The world felt distant, like you were living in a dream, as if this wasn’t real, like you would blink and it would all fade away. Somewhere deep down, you wanted that, but you were smarter than to believe the tricks your mind was playing.
The soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window was as comforting as the oppressive air surrounding you. You were in a small, modest, rustic cabin—a single room with a fireplace, a rough-hewn table, and a door that seemed far too thick for a place this remote. Your eyes caught sight of the chains near the bed, discarded as if they had been used not long ago. The scent of pine and earth filled your senses, making it all feel more real.
You shot up straight, wincing at the stiffness in your limbs. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, but you held yourself together before you could hit the ground. You turned around.
And then you saw him. Standing there, ready to pounce.
Your body ached, but the panic was slow, slithering to the surface. He stood at the far end of the cabin, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze pinning you to the spot. No words, no explanations—just the raw connection crackling between you both. His presence filled the space, dominating it, leaving no room for doubt about who—or what—he was.
You would have recognized those eyes anywhere—those same eyes that attacked you, killed all your friends right before your eyes, and almost killed you too. You always thought the villagers’ tales of werewolves were nothing but lies, but now, with one standing before you, you didn’t know what to do. The biggest question was why you were still alive and why his presence seemed to soothe your senses. Why didn’t his gaze make you want to run? Why did it set your soul ablaze instead?
You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. “What... what do you want from me?”
Taehyung’s lips curled into a smile, a predator’s smile. “You already know.”
You did. Deep down, a part of you had known from the moment his eyes met yours in the forest. It wasn’t just an attack. It was something else—something primal, something you couldn’t fully understand yet.
“Where... where am I?” your voice trembled, fear and anger bubbling beneath the surface.
“You’re safe,” Taehyung’s voice was deep and commanding, yet there was something soothing about it. “In my pack. My home.”
Pack? You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “What are you talking about? Will you kill me too?”
“No.” He seemed hurt by your accusation. “I would never. Not even in my wildest dreams could I think of hurting you.”
As soft and sweet as his words were, they did nothing to soothe your mind; instead, they left you more puzzled. “Why am I here? Let me go.”
Taehyung took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t do that.”
Your fists clenched the blanket tighter. “Why not?”
“Because,” he growled softly, his tone more serious now, “you’re mine.”
“I don’t belong to anyone, not to you. You’re insane.”
His gaze softened, though the intensity in his eyes never wavered. “I... I know this is confusing. But you’re my mate, and it’s not something I can control.”
You stared at him, the word echoing in your mind. Mate. It sounded absurd, like some kind of fantasy, but there was something inside you, something primal, that tugged at you, pulling you toward him. Like your body knew something your mind couldn’t accept.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your breath coming in shallow gasps. There was a heat in your chest, a pull that felt like it was coming from your very soul. “You’re insane.”
He stepped closer, cautiously, as if sensing your fear. “I didn’t want to do this to you. But the bond… it’s stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. I can’t let you go.”
Your pulse raced. It should have been fear, and yet… there was an unfamiliar warmth blooming within you, a need that terrified you because it wasn’t your own. Or maybe it was, but you just couldn’t understand it.
He was closer now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. You knew you should scream, run, fight—anything to escape. But you didn’t. There was an inexplicable connection, like your souls were intertwined, something deeper than logic or reason.
“You’ll feel it too,” he said, his voice gentler now, as if he understood the chaos inside you. “It’s only a matter of time.”
You wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong. But a part of you knew he was right. A part of you knew you couldn’t run away; he wouldn’t let you.
You didn’t move as he drew closer. You wanted to, but your body was denying all the commands your mind was screaming at you. You should have been terrified, and a part of you was, but it was so small it almost felt insignificant. Almost. The fear was tangled with something more—a warmth, a pull. Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand brushed against your wrist, the contact sending a jolt through your body.
“What are you doing to me?” you whispered, your voice shaking, though it wasn’t only fear you felt.
“I’m not doing anything,” he replied softly, his thumb grazing over your pulse, which raced beneath his touch. “This is the bond, the connection between us. I can feel it too. It’s like… gravity. Stronger than anything we could ever resist.”
You yanked your hand away, your pulse pounding in your ears. “You’re talking about me like I’m some... possession. I’m a person, not something you can just claim.”
His jaw tightened, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of pain in his eyes. “I know that. I’m not trying to control you. But this bond—it’s beyond either of us. I’ve waited my whole life for this, for you. I didn’t choose this any more than you did.”
“Waited for me? You don’t even know me!” you screamed at him. He moved closer, but you backed away quickly, this time listening to the voice in your head.
“Please, don’t. I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice smooth but laced with hurt. The words should have been comforting, but they only tightened the knot of dread in your chest.
You stared at him, searching his face for some trace of the monster you'd seen in the woods. The one who had torn through everything you knew, shattered your life in moments. His features softened, but the intensity remained, that raw connection tethering you to him, holding you in place even when every instinct screamed at you to run.
“Don’t be scared,” he repeated, this time softer, as if he were trying to soothe a frightened animal. And maybe, in some twisted way, that’s exactly how he saw you. His prey. His prize.
You shook your head, the conflict inside you threatening to tear you apart. “How can I not be? You... you killed them. You killed my friends!” The memory surged forward, vivid and cold, the blood, the screams, the unbearable helplessness. “Why should I trust you? Why should I believe anything you say?”
His eyes darkened, a shadow crossing over his face. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way.”
“Then what was supposed to happen?!” you snapped, your voice breaking. “Am I supposed to believe that this—this bond—justifies everything? That it makes it okay?”
Taehyung inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep control. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never wanted any of this, but fate—” His voice faltered, and something shifted in his expression. “It’s cruel. It bound us together, and I can’t fight it. I can’t let you go.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating. But there was something else too, something darker—his frustration, his struggle to contain the primal urge inside him.
Then, his demeanor changed, his control slipping as the storm within him broke through. “Yes, you should be scared,” he snarled, more to himself than to you, as though he was warning you of what he truly was, what he could become. His voice grew rougher, harder, a sharp contrast to the tenderness he had tried to show.
The words came out harsher than he intended, tearing through the fragile calm he’d tried to maintain. He pushed himself away from the bed, storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the walls.
He didn’t lock the door behind him, but you were too scared to try and run—or maybe you didn’t want to. There was a need within you tugging at you to run after him, but you stayed put.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Days turned into nights, though you lost track of time easily. The cabin felt like a prison, yet it was the pull toward him—your mate—that you couldn't escape. You told yourself it was the isolation, the lack of freedom that was twisting your thoughts, but deep down, you knew better. He watched you constantly, his sharp gaze never leaving your form, his presence like a shadow that never relented. It should have terrified you. It should have kept you on edge, waiting for the moment he'd finally snap.
But it didn’t. And that terrified you more.
You found yourself drawn to him. The way he moved, the way his eyes followed your every step—it stirred something deep inside, something primal that you couldn’t shake. Every time he came close, your heart pounded in your chest, but it wasn’t fear that caused the rapid thrum. It was something else, something far more unsettling. The way your body responded to him betrayed everything your mind fought against. How can this be happening?
You told yourself you hated him. You repeated it over and over, like a mantra: He killed them. He’s dangerous. He’s a monster. But the words began to lose their power, weakening with each passing day. There was no escaping the truth that settled into your bones: He is your mate.
The bond between you both was undeniable, a constant, low hum beneath your skin that never stopped. It pulsed with each glance, each accidental brush of his hand against yours. Your breath would hitch, your muscles would tighten, but not in fear. This isn’t real. It can’t be. But it was.
The bond tugged at you with every breath, every moment. His proximity was suffocating and yet, it was the only thing that felt real. The scent of him—earth, pine, something wild—would wrap itself around you, clinging to your senses long after he’d left the room. You could feel the tension between you both, the way his eyes lingered on you as if he was waiting for something, for you to break or give in.
But the worst part? You didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not really. What’s happening to me? you wondered, night after night, as your thoughts spiraled into the same dangerous loop. You were losing yourself. You were losing the version of you who had fought, the one who had screamed for her life as her friends were slaughtered. That girl was fading away, replaced by someone who couldn’t stop thinking about him. About what it would feel like if you stopped resisting.
And that terrified you. But it also made your pulse quicken with anticipation.
The truth settled like a weight in your chest: He is your mate. It wasn’t a choice. It wasn’t something you could deny. The bond tethered you both, winding tighter with each glance, each step he took closer to you. You hated it. You hated him. But you couldn’t stop the feeling that swelled inside you, the feeling that scared you more than anything else—maybe you didn’t want to stop it anymore.
Is this who you are now? Is this what you have become?
It consumed you, filled every moment, until it became harder and harder to remember who you were before him. Before the bond. Your fear began to melt into something far more dangerous, something darker, something you couldn’t ignore any longer. The part of you that wanted to run was growing quieter, drowned out by the part of you that wanted to stay.
What have you become?
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Tonight, something between you changed, the air was filled with tension you were unable to ignore. He stood by the fire, his back to you, his shirt discarded and his bare skin illuminated by the flickering light. You watched him, your eyes tracing the defined muscles of his back, the way his breath rose and fell in even, controlled measures. Something inside you stirred.
You didn’t even realize you had moved closer until you were standing just a few feet behind him. He turned, catching you in his gaze, and you froze.
"I see it now," Taehyung said softly, his voice a rumble that resonated deep in your chest. "You're starting to understand."
You shook your head, your throat tight. "Understand what?"
His eyes darkened, and he stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His hand lifted, fingers brushing your cheek with surprising gentleness, but there was a raw, dangerous energy behind it. "That you belong to me. That you've always belonged to me."
Your breath hitched as his fingers slid down to your throat, resting there with a possessive weight that sent your pulse skittering beneath his touch. You should have pushed him away. You should have fought.
But instead, you tilted your head, baring your neck in silent submission.
He smirked, but there was something deeper in his eyes, something that mirrored the fire burning within you. "Good girl."
"You're mine?" he asked. It felt more like a question than a statement, though he'd said it before, many times—more than you could count on your fingers.
Yet your heart still raced at his words, and instinctively, you found yourself saying, "I am." Every fiber of your being responded to him—his touch, his presence. Your very essence was a captive to him now.
He picked you up, cradling you lovingly in his arms as he moved toward the bedroom, his steps slow but purposeful. In no time, he was standing near the edge of the bed. He eased you back onto it, his touch gentle but firm. The mattress shifted beneath you as he moved on top, his weight settling carefully. His breath, warm and shallow, ghosted over your face, drawing a soft giggle from your lips. Your laughter softened his gaze.
"This will be different. I'm not human, and you realize this won't be anything you're used to. I intend to claim you," he said, his eyes searching your face as his hands rested on your hips. "I don't want to force it on you. Do you want this?"
His question felt ironic to you, as the wise voice in your head reminded you that the mate bond was forced on you, and now, with both of you playing a part in it, his asking if you wanted it seemed paradoxically comical. But there was another voice in your head, one whose origin you didn’t know, that only whispered his name over and over. You had ignored it for so long, but you no longer had the will or intention to do so. For once, your intention was clear. You nodded, your voice steady as you said the words aloud. "Yes, I want this. I want you, Taehyung."
With a fierce growl, he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss, as if marking your soul. You melted against him, heat radiating off his body. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard and drawing a low growl from him between the kiss. You pulled him closer, and he froze, momentarily shocked by your boldness.
His gaze met yours, and you swore you were breathless, but this time, it wasn’t because of fear or the intensity of the bond you'd always tried to fight. It was because of the sight before you. He looked heavenly. His swollen lips, those glossy eyes that seemed to flicker between black and yellow, his messy hair—he looked ethereal. You weren't sure if it was the mate bond's effect, or if you'd just been too blinded by fear to ever notice it before.
He leaned in again, kissing the corner of your lips before whispering slowly, "Do you even understand what it means for us to mate?"
You didn’t respond, just stared at him.
"It means you’ll be mine in every way possible, and so will I," he said, his nose brushing against your cheek. "I won’t let anyone else touch you."
"I understand," you said, your heart pounding inside your chest. "I want you."
Satisfied, he smiled, his gaze trailing to your neck as a primal instinct ignited within him. His eyes turned yellow once again, the color you'd once loved. "I’m going to mark you," he said, his voice filled with authority. "Everyone will know who you belong to."
His words sent a shiver down your spine. "Do it," you found yourself saying. You didn't even know where this boldness was coming from.
His eyes darkened at your words, filled with lust and determination. You felt a shift in the air around you—it grew oppressive, as if something intangible was pressing down on you. He kissed a trail down your neck, his lips warm against your skin, sending shivers of anticipation through your core.
When he finally reached the spot, he sank his teeth gently into your skin. The initial pain was soon replaced by a wave of arousal that washed over you. The bond surged to life. He licked the wound to help it heal, a moan slipping from your lips, met with a soft chuckle from his.
You felt warmth pool between your legs as your body reacted to his touch. You had never been able to resist his touch before, but now it felt like you'd become even more sensitive to it.
Taehyung's hands roamed your body, tracing every curve, every inch of your skin with possessive hunger. "You're beautiful," he murmured against your skin. "And I'm going to take you—right here, right now."
"Please." It was all you could manage to say. His hands moved with perfect precision, and in no time, your clothes were discarded, lying on the floor.
He positioned himself between your legs. "I won't hold back," he said as he entered you, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation. The anticipation was electric, a moment that felt like it could stretch into eternity, and then he was there, claiming you.
A gasp escaped your lips, a mix of pain and pleasure, but it quickly transformed into a wave of bliss. Taehyung's eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort, and when he found none, he pressed deeper.
"More. Please," you begged, feeling the heat build within you. His pace started slow but soon quickened, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure surging through you.
With each thrust, he took you higher, and you felt yourself unraveling. "You're mine, and I will never let you go," he whispered fiercely, pulling you closer to the edge.
With a final thrust, you shattered, waves of pleasure crashing over you. "Ta-Taehyung," you cried out his name, the sound echoing in the small wooden cabin. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he reached his peak. He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing hard, exhausted.
As the night fell silent, the air heavy with the scent of the bond between you, everything felt different. You were no longer the person who had been dragged into this cabin by force, but you were no longer afraid. The way he held you—possessive, yet protective—spoke of a bond that ran deeper than you could have imagined.
The bond wasn’t just physical. You could feel it in your soul, the invisible thread tying you to him, as inescapable as the moon is to the night sky.
Taehyung’s arms tightened around you, as if sensing your thoughts, and he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine, and no one else will ever have you.”
A chill ran down your spine, but this time it wasn’t from fear. It was acceptance. You belonged to him now. And perhaps, in a way you never thought possible, he belonged to you too.
#bts ff#bts ffs#bts fanfic#bts taehyung#taehyung#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung fanfic#taehyung kim#taehyung smut#bts smut#anon ask#anonymous
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soda staying positive and happy to the point that it's not even the way he feels or wants to feel that way but both of his brothers are growing so distant and ponys so sad and darrys so cold that this is the way that he can help them. How are Darry/ Pony checking in Soda? Are they at all?
If this is a safe space for the truth then Darry and Pony are absolutely NOT checking in on Soda 🙅♀️ Like, canonically, to the point where Soda has a breakdown over his brothers and his own built-up frustrations.
Pony is dealing with the hardship that is being fourteen and an orphan and also getting jumped every twenty minutes because yeah he’s a runner he’s a track star but also his reflexes are dog. Like in the movie there’s a whole car speeding toward him from behind and he doesn’t even look up until there’s about one human wingspan of space between him and the bumper i’m sitting there w my head in my hands wondering how nature hasn’t run its course w him yet.
Meanwhile Darry’s entire existence is a psychological horror thriller saw trap where he has to choose every month if he wants to not starve or have running water and also his ex-friend+lover+its complicated is running around making his little brother and little brother’s bff bite the curb. So he’s a little busy atm.
Alr I’m being serious now bc Soda’s my guy and I need to lock in for him. He’s is the mediator but also the one who checks in on his brothers after their arguments. He’s the one icing wounds and getting smiles out of them after a long day with that Hollywood charm turned up to the max. Sure, Darry’s the one keeping them physically together under a shared roof, but Soda is the one making sure their emotional bond doesn’t fray. I’d bet every cent to my name that Soda has laughed through the pain whenever he can, and even laughs for his brothers when they can’t. I doubt it’s something he really expects them to check in on him for, so maybe he’d honestly be surprised (but grateful) if they did that.
After the book they’re absolutely checking in on him tho are u kidding. They’re a unit by then who understand that if one of them isn’t doing okay, it’ll bring down the rest of them. They love each other too much to allow one of them to go through it alone
#the outsiders#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders sodapop#sodapop curtis#the outsiders ponyboy#ponyboy curtis#the outsiders darry#darry curtis#the outsiders 1983
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Ari nooo I can feel childhood friend Oliver burrowing into my brain like a physical ailment.😭 Thinking Abt finally getting to the point where u can answer the question "do you like football?" With "a little, I had a friend who was really into it once." Without feeling like there's a knife in ur ribs.
U being the one who's worked past it and managed to land at a distant 'proud of my old friend' stage, genuinely happy for him, and him seeing you again and loosing his footing bc he has done NO introspection WHATSOEVER.
childhood friends to lovers is my literal kryptonite and this is so…… God…
oliver leaves ur entire relationship so fucking unresolved 😭 like once he’s recruited professionally, he just… packs up all of his shit and leaves. you try for a few months but it quickly becomes clear that this permanent distance and all of your complicated, messy, teenage emotions are no longer something you can deal with. it hurts for the first few years, to see him on TV and in interviews and various dating scandals. u have to let go, and in that - u choose to just think of him as all of good things he was to u and not the bad
but oliver… oliver just put it aside. he was extremely busy. and you know, girls were throwing themselves at him so he just did whatever he felt like. being a fuckboy felt good, felt natural. it was good to be shallow and easier to detach. he never thought about anything between you at all, not even in passing. his womanizing and playboy reputation and taking romance lightly. it was fine. he stopped caring about everything except soccer. bleeds his heart into the sport and leaves everything else behind. his egoism in a way. it made him well and truly untouchable.
but eventually things slow down. it has to have been years. like really, truly years.
you message him when he’s back honey, asking if he wants to catch up. your mom really wants to see him, and oliver feels this cognitive dissonance. it unsettles him
and he sees you. you’re starting to look… womanly maybe. but you’re mostly the same, if not more comfortable. maybe happier. and you seem so genuinely happy to see him. and its been years and oliver is a different person now (is he?), but you look at him the same. he comes over to say hi to your mom and crams himself against the wall of your bedroom like he did when he was 16 and his chest is tight from the pain.
he feels so hollow all of a sudden. it just all suddenly feels meaningless and he just. sits in it. slips. into what or who he doesn’t know. you laugh the same but you wear perfume now. its hard to describe. its like grief and somehow anger. he’s almost angry that all of this is still here, that youre still here, that things can be so different and unchanged. its blinding. its disgusting. you’re the same. naive and difficult to let go of
it makes his skin crawl how much he still feels for you. he resents you in a stupid way and can’t help but express it through sarcasm. how else can he vent still being this fucking tormented by you years later?
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Maybe childhood hc of the boxers (idk if this a weird req )??
It's not weird at all! Childhood hc's coming up + you can find more about their origins in my AU :>
Glass Joe 🇫🇷🥐
- Lived with his mom, dad, and his uncle, Gabriel (aka Gabby Jay). All his guardians all worked for very long hours (since living in Paris is pricey)
- His mom (Celine) and dad (Dion) were barely in his life because of it; Gabby was his primary caretaker
- Gabby was basically his best friend since he didn't have a lot as a child
- Has had asthma his whole life and was never ever good at sports or PE. (Bro does not smoke in this AU lmao)
- He's actually very smart! Loved writing and math, and is one of the few boxers that was able to go to college
- Some of his best childhood memories are with Gabby, whether it be going to see a play with him, or learning how to bake with him... they were insanely close.
- Went through a small emo phase when he was 13. He's still very embarrassed about it to this day.
Von Kaiser🇩🇪🔩
- Grew up in two different homes... for least part, he grew up with his ultra caring, ultra sweet single mom (named Emilia)... or for the most part, he grew up with his ultra strict, bigoted, and cruel grandparents (Agnes and Leopold)
- His grandparents are where his adulthood trauma stems from. They were horrible... as early as 6 years old, Kaiser was forced to cook, clean, have his bed made at 5 in the morning before school... that sorta thing.
- They punished hard, too. Name any outdated or cruel punishment towards a child, and they've probably done it. Screaming at him, breaking toys, locking him in the attic... and, of course, physical violence. Belt or hand, take your pick.
- Kaiser actually has a small premenant burn on his bottom left hip. It was when Agnes burned him with a hot pan as a kid... if anyone asks about it, he'll lie and quickly tell you it's a birthmark.
- Growing up with them, especially with his grandfather, he was taught to always bottle his feelings. This led him to being very social distant, both in school and when he eventually enrolled in technician school.
- His mom was pretty cool, though. She was an engineer (later an amputee, long after Kaiser moved out of Germany) and did her best to provide for her and her son. Because she had no other relatives and she didn't want Kaiser staying home alone every day (her job is very time demanding), she had to send him to live with his grandparents often.
- If his grandparents were alive today, they'd def be tweaking tf about Kaiser getting with not only a man but a French man.
Disco Kid 🇺🇲🕺
- Omg a childhood that isn't completely sad???
- Lived a comfortable, upper middle class with his mom (Zuri), his radio host dad (Kenneth), and his little sister, April.
- Naturally a very active child! He's been in and out of multiple sports, but dancing was by far his favorite.
- Also very close to his mom and adopted her love for disco and the 80s in general. They boxercise regularly together, and sometimes April will join them
- Certified prom king expert! The dude has completely owned every single school dance he's been to. This made him a popular kid with plenty of friends growing up.
King Hippo 🏝🦛
- Not much to say! Hippo was born an adult. He was a full-blown adult hippo before getting mutated into a human-hippo being. (See my AU for details)
- Has very few memories of his time on Hippo island... he just knows he was the leader of them, though.
Piston Hondo: 🇯🇵🥊
- Lived with his mom (Michi), his dad (Ryu), and his twin sisters, Aki and Aiko.
- Always busy. If he's not at school, he's most likely working at the family restaurant, called "Heart of the Hondo's, as a cook.
- Parents were strict but not outwardly abusive. They raised him right! Taught him responsibility, respect, discipline... everything that he is today.
- Aki and Aiko are little Aran Ryan level menace's... Hondo had to take care of them and make sure they never got into any trouble most days.
- Childhood friends with Heike Kagero ever since grade school.
- Very quiet, non-social kid, and mainly hung out with Heike. If he's not working or at school, he'd spend his time watching anime (mainly Sailor Moon) or reading manga. His sisters loooved teasing him about his love for Sailor Moon...
Overall, pretty good childhood! He has a lot of nostalgia for his childhood, too.
Bear Hugger 🇨🇦🐻
- Didn't have a very great relationship with his folks... at least not until his teen years, that is.
- His father (Caleb) was a big name hunter, and his mother (Elanor) specialized in taxidermy.
- They lived in a rural community in Salmon Arm, Canada.
- They weren't really mean or horrible people, but they didn't know Bear didn't agree with their actions... mainly because Bear never confronted them. At all.
- Got very rebellious as a teen and ran away from his folks one night with his squirrel, Spruce. To this day, his parents seriously think he got kidnapped or something, and nowadays, they actually have no idea Bear is a boxer now.
- Spent his whole childhood with Spruce and other animals. Ever since he was 4 years old, animals just had a natural gravitation towards him.
- Never saw his grieving parents again.
Great Tiger 🇮🇳🐯
- Legit doesn't remember his childhood well.
- He imagines it was pretty mundane and routinely.
- Thinks he had a childhood pet...? He could be wrong, though.
Don Flamenco 🇪🇸🥀
- Lived in a middle class home with his mom (Lucia) and his dad (Juan)
- His mom was VERY dotting and protective... girl would throw a shoe at you if you accidentally looked at her son the wrong way. She bragged about him a lot too. Girl definitely wore the pants in her relationship.
- Ofc, even if Don's mother was clingy and protective of her "sweet baby angel" son, it didn't stop a certain blonde tourists parents from convincing her to let Don leave Spain...
- In terms of childhood, Don was a very popular kid for how social he was. He wasn't a particularly behaved student though.
- Definitely became a jock in his team years, sporting a large male friend group.
- Loved by his community, especially after his dad introduced him to the matador business at a young age.
- Smaller hc here, but was definitely on a swim team. Idk, I feel like that'd be a thing.
- Even smaller hc; Lucia is actually Latina (from Columbia), and his dad is a native Spaniard. This makes Don mixed race, technically :3
Aran Ryan 🇮🇪😈
- Lived in the outskirts of Dublin with his father (Oscar), his 6 younger siblings, including the one was closest to the most, a year younger sister named Brooke.
- Grew up on a small sheep farm, with lots of responsibilities, similar to Hondo. He looked after his siblings, his siblings did farm work, and his father fed them that night. That's how it worked.
- Was homeschooled
- Fought with Brooke a lot, except he was always the instigator. Brooke was a sharp contrast to his personality, being an intellectual and a stickler for rules and safety.
- On again off again relationship with his dad. Some days and nights were awesome, but some nights and days were awful...
- His dad was a hard punisher, and he wasn't afraid to spank or use the belt. He also definitely played favorites with all of the siblings.
- Rowdy sibling, and got into trouble the most. Either that or his dad couldn't handle his adhd.
- Runs away during hard fights, either to a local pub or into a sheep pen
- Had this small childhood toy, a stuffed lamb he named "lucky," that he sleeps with every night... and to this day!
Soda Popinski 🇷🇺🍾
- Grew up in a small, low-income community with his mom (Petra), his hard working dad (Grigory), and his short older sister named Svetlana.
- Absolutely adored child. Basically friends with all his neighbors, and was known as this gentle, soft-spoken giant.
- Naturally very tall kid
- Him and Svetlana were nearly always on the same wavelength, it was almost scary at times. They were basically besties
- Worked as a box carrier alongside school
- Parents are humoursly short compared to him. Funnier because they're very sweet and supportive of him, but not to an overbearing extent
Bald Bull 🇹🇷🐂
- Social shut in + anger issues
- His autism made it hard to understand other kids, so he didn't have a lot of friends
- Can't remember his parents well
- Nothing too notable here
Super Macho Man 🇺🇸🌊
- Very rich actors' parents (Sophia and Lucas) that weren't really parents. They were more like acting agents for young Macho Man.
- Didn't do well at school, and was often taken out so he could focus on his inevitable acting career
- Looks SO different from how he did as a kid... as a kid, he was a tiny blonde boy with a cute smile and rosey dimples. A far cry from how Macho Man looks now...
- Loved the beach, but his parents never brought him there much. He'd sneak off with friends often to be at the beach. Loved swimming, surfing and the ocean.
- His parents dropped all contact with him once reports of him being a spoiled, terrible actor to work with made public. They didn't wanna take credit for the kid they raised lol
- Loved action movies as a kid, had a ton of merchandise
Mr. Sandman 🟢🥊
- First of all, dude will never spill the beans about his childhood if you ask.
- Had absolutely incredible parents that he loved a lot. He lived with his kindhearted, if shy mother (Destiny) and his strong, wise father (Miles).
- Loved boxing ever since he was a boy... his childhood room was adorable, adorned with posters, action figures, and even trading cards.
- Strong, sporty kid who participated in multiple little leagues. He laughed and smiled way more during fights as a kid...
- Moved to NY when he was a teen to get recognized... Mr. Dream picked him up for training and stardom.
- Saw his parents less and less the more he worked with Mr. Dream... but Mr. Dream needed full control over him for true greatness.
- His childhood officially ended when his parents never came home from work one day because Mr. Dream had them murdered...
If anyone wants childhood hc for any particular boxer not mentioned, please comment them!~
#punch out wii#piston hondo#doc louis#soda popinski#aran ryan#bald bull#bear hugger#disco kid#don flamenco#glass joe#great tiger#king hippo#von kaiser#heike kagero#headcanon#au#request#gabby jay#my ocs#ocs#super macho man#super punch out#mr sandman#the sandman
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I Love You, Just Like This
Guy/Honey (Redacted Audio)
Loving has never come easy for Honey. Physical affection nor words of affirmation has never been their forte, yet they desperately wanted Guy to know that they love him more than they could express.
Tags : Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Honey works at Vesta and Kayla is Honey's Coworker, Struggles with Affection/PDA, Swearing
also on ao3
notes : SDHBSHDB this is my first fanfic ever;; and I don't really know what I'm doing
Sheets of torrential rain poured down on Dahlia. Honey looked down upon their now-ruined shoes as puddles started to form under the side of the office building that they’d taken refuge in. They shifted from one foot to the other. It’d been a long, tiring day of work and they’d do anything to crawl under the covers and sleep, yet the late-August weather didn’t seem to be on their side. Sighing, they pulled their work blazer against their cold, miserable body.
A voice came from beside them. “Damn, it still hasn’t stopped raining?”
“Yeah. Been thirty minutes and no signs of slowing.”
Kayla, fellow Vesta Distribution Co. employee, started typing on her phone, the light of the monitor glowed against her face. “Are you also taking an Uber, or-? We could share the ride if we happen to live in the same direction.”
“Uh, no. Thanks for the offer, though. My boyfriend is coming. Although there’s no telling when he’ll be here. Traffic and all.”
“Huh,” Their co-worker looked up from their phone. “Is he also from work, or?”
Honey gave a dry laugh. “No, but, you’ve met him, remember. It’s Guy, my plus one at your engagement party?”
“...Right. I don’t know, I just assumed that you were friends or something. No offense, but the two of you seemed distant, is all. And I never really pegged you to be the type for relationships.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not sure, it’s your whole…vibe. I guess. You can come across as intimidating. Like, those new-hires you trained? Completely terrified of you. It’s like they’re trying not to shit their pants every time you give them feedback. Same thing with your boyfriend. It’s like you’re tense. You guys didn’t even hold each other’s hand or anything. That’s why I assumed you’re just friends. ”
Honey tightened their grip on their work bag. “Really,” they said in disbelief, trying to not sound hurt. “I don’t do it on purpose. And my criticisms were all constructive.”
They ignored the second comment.
“I know,” Kayla reached out and patted them on the shoulder. “I mean, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re all that…imposing. Much. Anyway, my ride’s here. See you on Monday.” She took out an umbrella and walked away to the awaiting car.
Honey was alone again, and it gave them all the time in the work to mull over their co-worker’s words. The bright, fluorescent lights of the skyscrapers of Dahlia’s Business District made Honey feel small. As cars zoomed past, Kayla’s words echoed in their head.
I just assumed that you were friends or something. The two of you seemed distant.
It hit them like a pile of bricks. A dull, painful feeling wormed its way in their chest. The sound of rain against the pavement rang in their ears.
“Honey!”
They turned around to see him, and oh, how they ached. Guy fixed them with a toothy smile, and looked at them with more love than they deserved as he held the umbrella over their head. He giggled, “Aw, is my honey-baby cold? Tired, perhaps? Never fear, as your noble cavalier is here to rescue you.“
“Hey.” In the quiet of their car, his voice quieted to a whisper. “Long day at work?”
“Yeah, it’s been a shitty day. I’m ready to pass out.” They cleared their throat and mumbled. “Thanks, by the way. For picking me up.”
“Of course. I’d never leave my amazing, beautiful, partner stuck in the rain. Alone, in the cold, craving the warm embrace of their sexy and handsome boyfriend.”
“You shouldn’t have to. It’s late, and I know the shift at Max’s tired you out already.”
Guy did look exhausted. Honey was well aware of how packed his schedule was, with the pitch meeting that ran all morning and his sixteen-hour shift at the pizza place. There were bags under his eyes, yet when he wasn’t looking at the road, his eyes still gazed at them so warmly.
“You know that it’s nothing. You underestimate me, Honey! I’m very familiar with being tired, just like how you tired me out last night, eh-”
“Guy!” They said, exasperated, yet a laugh escaped their lips. “You’re so stupid.”
“Oh, you love me for it,” he sang as his right hand rested against Honey’s thigh, searching for theirs. Guy’s hand was warm as his fingers interlocked with theirs and gave a reassuring squeeze.
Silence soon fell over the two of them like a blanket, and all Honey could think was the way the light from passing cars outside the window illuminated Guy’s soft features. His brows furrowed in concentration, yet his eyes were unbearably kind. His mouth curved into a relaxed smile like this was easy. Like loving them was second nature.
It was always like this, with Guy. They knew that he’d do anything for them, things beyond being stuck in bad-weather and traffic when he could’ve been resting after working all day.
A heavy feeling washed over them. Did Guy know that they’d do anything for him, too?
Honey loved Guy. More than anything. Yet this much love for someone was uncharted territory for them, the vulnerable feeling wormed under their skin uncomfortably. A familiar line of thought came, one that they have visited and revisited multiple times whenever they thought about their boyfriend.
Guy deserved someone who could love him properly.
They knew this about Guy: when he loved someone, he’d love them with his whole being. It’s the boundless, unrestrained sort of love, with nothing held back. Everyone in his life would attest to that, even if they did so with an eyeroll and sigh.
A memory came to mind. Back in college, when they weren’t dating yet, Honey had a horrible fever. It’d been their second night at Dahlia, and they were stuck in bed. Guy, the college-assigned roommate they barely knew at the time, stayed by their side with a bowl of chicken noodle soup when all of his friends were out on freshman-year parties.
Caring for someone never came naturally for Honey. They were used to being there for themselves, and they just drifted. They came and went from people’s lives without saying a word, only making their presence known when necessary.
It finally dawned on them; they should try harder, for Guy’s sake.
Acting so indifferent towards him to the point that their coworker never knew that they were in a relationship with him was a clear sign that they haven’t been putting enough effort to love him. The pangs of guilt clawed at their insides, and they desperately wished that they didn’t have so many hard edges.
“We’re hooome. Now it’s time for a shower and later we can be snug as a bug in a rug-,” Guy turned to look at them and paused.
“...Honey? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
They swallowed the lump in their throat. They felt so useless, here they were, being a burden to him again. Guy looked at them with a concerned expression.
”We don’t have to talk about it right now, if you don’t want to. It’s just that- There’s something’s on your mind, isn’t there?
Honey averted their gaze. Please don’t look at me like that.
“Guy,” they started, trying to force the words out of their mouth.“Do you want me to…do more PDA?”
Honey was horrified. It definitely was not how they wanted to sound. It’s embarrassing, almost juvenile.
Guy didn’t laugh. His thumb ran soothing circles in the back of their palm.
“Honey, no.” he frowned. “Where’d that come from?”
“Well, a coworker said that she assumed that we were friends. Presumably because we seemed… distant. And she’s right, you know, it is a little weird that we don’t really do that when other people’s around. All because I’m afraid of people staring and I just- can't.” Honey felt warm tears started rolling down their face.
“And fuck, Guy,” Honey choked back a sob. “I want people to know that I love you. I want you to know that I love you so damn much.”
“Honey,” his voice sounded hurt. “Can I hold you?”
As they nodded, he reached for them over the centre console and wrapped his arms around them.
“I know, Honey. I know. You love me in ways that I can’t even describe. And you don’t have to do anything you feel uncomfortable with to prove that to others. ”
His honey buried their face in his chest, staining his shirt, yet he paid little mind. “You gave me more love than I deserve. I know you love me because you stayed with me when I struggled to finish my manuscripts. Because you told me to rest when I was sick and refused to stay still.”
“You were such a little shit back then,” they sniffed.
“I know!” he laughed.” And you laid down with me until I fell asleep, even when you had a lot of work to do.”
“I have no doubt that you love me, Honey,” Guy tightened his hold on them. “And I love you, just like this. Just as you are.”
The rain outside the car slowed into a light drizzle, and in the stillness of the night, there were no witnesses to how Honey cupped the side of Guy’s face and kissed him.
#redacted guy#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted honey#redacted fanfic#slushiewrites
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